(no subject)
Flavor of the Day - 3/15/2010 - Fulminate
and Pear #28. Above & Beyond with Hot Fudge and Whipped Cream
Story : knights
Rating : PG13
Timeframe : 1251
Word Count : 1293
Word of the Day : Fulminate - To issue or utter verbal attacks or censures authoritatively or menacingly.
A little note to go with this, so you're not all jumping on me for it. Kairn has known Reida all of about a year at this point and she hasn't done, well, most of the awful things she does to him...yet.
Kairn wasn’t sure what made him open the door. If anyone asked, he would have attributed it to a complete lack of sense. Clearly there was an angry Reida in the room; the string of profanities could be heard well down the hall. But there was a broken cadence to the words, a frequent interruption by violent hiccups and ragged gasps. Kairn put a hand to the wood and gave it a push. Perhaps it was curiosity, perhaps concern -- both of which constituted a lack of sense when aimed Reida’s way -- but truth be told, he opened the door because there was a crying Reida in the room.
Now that he had opened the door, he didn’t dare turn and leave. Reida was curled up on the floor in one corner of the lab, skirts hiked up around her waist, a blood soaked towel stuffed between her legs, shaking and cursing. The words died as she lifted her head and turned it his way.
With a heavy sniff, she hastily drew the back of her hand across her face, which did little to help with the tears, only adding a smear of blood and paint to mingle with them. Her eyes met his and her expression hardened. “What are you looking at?” she snapped.
Kairn edged a pace further into the room, quietly pressing the door shut behind him. “You’re…you’re hurt,” he said.
“I’ve got it under control.” There was a paint stick in her hand, the slick red grease worn down to a nub, and lines and rings laced their way up and down her legs amidst patches of blood.
“But-”
“But what?” Her voice was firm but her shoulders lurched with an involuntary sniff.
“That’s…” He bit his lip, shuffled closer still, and eyed the stains on her skirt, the dark spots on the floor. “That’s a lot of blood.”
Reida sniffed again and drew a shuddering gulp of a breath. “It took awhile to get it to stop.” She pulled the towel from between her legs, and as the rest of her skin came into sight, Kairn wasn’t sure what was wound and what was sigil.
“I-It’s stopped now though?”
“Yeah.” She tossed the towel to the floor and braced herself on her arms. “I just have to get up.”
“Let me.” Kairn offered a hand.
“Back off.” She wedged a foot under herself, gave the floor a shove, and fell back down, shaking.
Kairn backed away a step, folding his arms over his chest and quietly watching as she gathered herself again. “You know, Sethan’s not here to impress. You don‘t have to pretend you‘re alright if you‘re not.”
Reida glared for a moment. “I’m fine,” she said at last.
Kairn stooped beside her, eyeing the mess of blood and paint spread over her legs again. “You’re not fine. You can’t even get off the floor.”
“I ca-” She met his eye and quickly turned her head. She hadn’t even bothered to set her hands to the floor this time.
“You can’t keep doing this. One of these times he’s going to kill you. I thought Tarek told you to stop.” Her eyes were slowly traversing the underside of the bench she was huddled beside and her hand had found the paint tube and was awkwardly spinning it back and forth. “If there’s anyone you would listen to it’s-”
Her head snapped back to face him with a sneer. “Did you just come here to lecture me?”
“I came here to help.” He plucked the paint stick from her hand and set it to his own palm. “At least let me get you off the floor.”
Reida shook her head as he drew the circle on his hand. She craned her neck to peer up over his arm and shook it again as he filled out the form.
“You’re just everyone’s bitch, aren’t you?”
Kairn paused, the paint stick cocked above his hand, to look at her. “I’d like to think we could be friends.”
Reida laughed.
He pressed the stick back against his palm, twisting it a bit to find a usable drawing edge. “Look,” he said, keeping his eyes on his work. “I know you have this fixation on all the worst magics, and you know, the blood and the knives and all.” He frowned at the lines. Energy transfer forms were always difficult.
“Horizontal. Across the top.” She waved a shaky finger at his hands.
“Thanks.” He added the line. “And you want everyone to think you’re so tough. Especially Sethan. And I suppose that’s just because you want him to get up your skirts, which by the way, is not going to happen, so you really should get over it.”
“He too busy getting up yours?”
“That’s not what I meant!” He had to wipe off the stroke that went clear to his thumb. “You know, I’d like to think you’re not so bad. I mean, maybe no one’s ever been nice to you, so you just don’t know how-”
She laughed again, a dry bark of a laugh that bordered on a cackle.
“It’s not funny,” said Kairn. He caught her wrist, turned her hand over looking for stray traces of paint, and pressed her palm to his.
There was a pop along his spine and a hiss where their hands met, and he winced as the spell pulled the breath from his veins and forced it into hers. Reida sighed and curled her fingers between his as if she hoped he might invoke the mark again.
Kairn pulled his hand free and wiped the paint off on his leg while Reida gave him another slow shake of her head. “Noble little bitch, aren’t you?” she said, her hand still hanging in the air where he‘d left it. “Poor, misunderstood Reida. Nobody loves her enough. Of course, you could fix all that, couldn’t you?” She lifted the hand, swiped a finger up under his chin, and leaned a little closer. “Shed a little affection on my twisted soul.”
Kairn shifted nervously as a second finger and a third slid up around his chin. “Reida, I-”
Her hand dove and grabbed his collar, and she yanked his head down until their noses hovered inches apart. “Look, bitch, it’s not an act,” she said, dark eyes boring into his and her lip curling back in a snarl. “I can take care of myself.”
She let go of him with a shove, and Kairn staggered backward, rubbing at his throat. “Fine,” he said. “See if I help you next time.”
“I don’t remember asking for it this time.” She pushed herself to her feet, took one shaky step, and pitched forward. Without thinking, Kairn lunged forward, arms out, and stopped her fall. She grinned up at him. “You were saying?”
“Shut up.”
She laughed at him again, braced a hand against his chest, and pushed herself upright. “I suppose I should clean the rest of this up.” She bent, a bit less clumsily, and retrieved the towel.
Kairn thought for a moment to give her a hand as she set to wiping the blood and paint from the floor, but he shook his head and turned for the door instead.
“Not a word of your little heroics to anyone,” Reida called as he reached for the knob.
“Oh, you can be sure Tarek is going to hear about this.”
“Hmm,” said Reida. “I wonder if you’d like company in your bed then. As a reward.”
He stopped and looked back over his shoulder, mouth half open, not quite sure how to respond to the words or the tone.
“Something with pincers.” Reida was grinning.
Back in the hall, Kairn slammed the door behind him.
and Pear #28. Above & Beyond with Hot Fudge and Whipped Cream
Story : knights
Rating : PG13
Timeframe : 1251
Word Count : 1293
Word of the Day : Fulminate - To issue or utter verbal attacks or censures authoritatively or menacingly.
A little note to go with this, so you're not all jumping on me for it. Kairn has known Reida all of about a year at this point and she hasn't done, well, most of the awful things she does to him...yet.
Kairn wasn’t sure what made him open the door. If anyone asked, he would have attributed it to a complete lack of sense. Clearly there was an angry Reida in the room; the string of profanities could be heard well down the hall. But there was a broken cadence to the words, a frequent interruption by violent hiccups and ragged gasps. Kairn put a hand to the wood and gave it a push. Perhaps it was curiosity, perhaps concern -- both of which constituted a lack of sense when aimed Reida’s way -- but truth be told, he opened the door because there was a crying Reida in the room.
Now that he had opened the door, he didn’t dare turn and leave. Reida was curled up on the floor in one corner of the lab, skirts hiked up around her waist, a blood soaked towel stuffed between her legs, shaking and cursing. The words died as she lifted her head and turned it his way.
With a heavy sniff, she hastily drew the back of her hand across her face, which did little to help with the tears, only adding a smear of blood and paint to mingle with them. Her eyes met his and her expression hardened. “What are you looking at?” she snapped.
Kairn edged a pace further into the room, quietly pressing the door shut behind him. “You’re…you’re hurt,” he said.
“I’ve got it under control.” There was a paint stick in her hand, the slick red grease worn down to a nub, and lines and rings laced their way up and down her legs amidst patches of blood.
“But-”
“But what?” Her voice was firm but her shoulders lurched with an involuntary sniff.
“That’s…” He bit his lip, shuffled closer still, and eyed the stains on her skirt, the dark spots on the floor. “That’s a lot of blood.”
Reida sniffed again and drew a shuddering gulp of a breath. “It took awhile to get it to stop.” She pulled the towel from between her legs, and as the rest of her skin came into sight, Kairn wasn’t sure what was wound and what was sigil.
“I-It’s stopped now though?”
“Yeah.” She tossed the towel to the floor and braced herself on her arms. “I just have to get up.”
“Let me.” Kairn offered a hand.
“Back off.” She wedged a foot under herself, gave the floor a shove, and fell back down, shaking.
Kairn backed away a step, folding his arms over his chest and quietly watching as she gathered herself again. “You know, Sethan’s not here to impress. You don‘t have to pretend you‘re alright if you‘re not.”
Reida glared for a moment. “I’m fine,” she said at last.
Kairn stooped beside her, eyeing the mess of blood and paint spread over her legs again. “You’re not fine. You can’t even get off the floor.”
“I ca-” She met his eye and quickly turned her head. She hadn’t even bothered to set her hands to the floor this time.
“You can’t keep doing this. One of these times he’s going to kill you. I thought Tarek told you to stop.” Her eyes were slowly traversing the underside of the bench she was huddled beside and her hand had found the paint tube and was awkwardly spinning it back and forth. “If there’s anyone you would listen to it’s-”
Her head snapped back to face him with a sneer. “Did you just come here to lecture me?”
“I came here to help.” He plucked the paint stick from her hand and set it to his own palm. “At least let me get you off the floor.”
Reida shook her head as he drew the circle on his hand. She craned her neck to peer up over his arm and shook it again as he filled out the form.
“You’re just everyone’s bitch, aren’t you?”
Kairn paused, the paint stick cocked above his hand, to look at her. “I’d like to think we could be friends.”
Reida laughed.
He pressed the stick back against his palm, twisting it a bit to find a usable drawing edge. “Look,” he said, keeping his eyes on his work. “I know you have this fixation on all the worst magics, and you know, the blood and the knives and all.” He frowned at the lines. Energy transfer forms were always difficult.
“Horizontal. Across the top.” She waved a shaky finger at his hands.
“Thanks.” He added the line. “And you want everyone to think you’re so tough. Especially Sethan. And I suppose that’s just because you want him to get up your skirts, which by the way, is not going to happen, so you really should get over it.”
“He too busy getting up yours?”
“That’s not what I meant!” He had to wipe off the stroke that went clear to his thumb. “You know, I’d like to think you’re not so bad. I mean, maybe no one’s ever been nice to you, so you just don’t know how-”
She laughed again, a dry bark of a laugh that bordered on a cackle.
“It’s not funny,” said Kairn. He caught her wrist, turned her hand over looking for stray traces of paint, and pressed her palm to his.
There was a pop along his spine and a hiss where their hands met, and he winced as the spell pulled the breath from his veins and forced it into hers. Reida sighed and curled her fingers between his as if she hoped he might invoke the mark again.
Kairn pulled his hand free and wiped the paint off on his leg while Reida gave him another slow shake of her head. “Noble little bitch, aren’t you?” she said, her hand still hanging in the air where he‘d left it. “Poor, misunderstood Reida. Nobody loves her enough. Of course, you could fix all that, couldn’t you?” She lifted the hand, swiped a finger up under his chin, and leaned a little closer. “Shed a little affection on my twisted soul.”
Kairn shifted nervously as a second finger and a third slid up around his chin. “Reida, I-”
Her hand dove and grabbed his collar, and she yanked his head down until their noses hovered inches apart. “Look, bitch, it’s not an act,” she said, dark eyes boring into his and her lip curling back in a snarl. “I can take care of myself.”
She let go of him with a shove, and Kairn staggered backward, rubbing at his throat. “Fine,” he said. “See if I help you next time.”
“I don’t remember asking for it this time.” She pushed herself to her feet, took one shaky step, and pitched forward. Without thinking, Kairn lunged forward, arms out, and stopped her fall. She grinned up at him. “You were saying?”
“Shut up.”
She laughed at him again, braced a hand against his chest, and pushed herself upright. “I suppose I should clean the rest of this up.” She bent, a bit less clumsily, and retrieved the towel.
Kairn thought for a moment to give her a hand as she set to wiping the blood and paint from the floor, but he shook his head and turned for the door instead.
“Not a word of your little heroics to anyone,” Reida called as he reached for the knob.
“Oh, you can be sure Tarek is going to hear about this.”
“Hmm,” said Reida. “I wonder if you’d like company in your bed then. As a reward.”
He stopped and looked back over his shoulder, mouth half open, not quite sure how to respond to the words or the tone.
“Something with pincers.” Reida was grinning.
Back in the hall, Kairn slammed the door behind him.