Wild Roses fic prompt 100 "Writer's Choice - Lightning"
Title: sanity what?
'Verse/characters: Wild Roses; Sean, second Ian, Aodh
Prompt: 100 "Writer's Choice - Lightning"
Word Count: 670
Rating: all ages
Notes: follows previous fairly directly. No, I don't know who the lady is. Or what he did to the leg.
It took three tries to get Ian upright, and that with Sean draping one too-thin arm across his shoulders and gripping a hip just short of bruisingly hard. Aodh was too short to put his own shoulder under Ian's other one without forcing Sean to crouch, and he scowled thoughtfully at the two of them.
"One-man carry?"
"Not unless you want me to get sick," Ian replied. "I may not've eaten anything in a while, but something'd still come up."
"Ew," Aodh said, and Sean privately agreed. " . . Can y'pull the webs back a bit?"
" . . Maybe?"
Aodh half-barked a laugh, then reached out and tugged Sean, and Ian with him, forward a step.
Another twilight room, this one empty and windowless, just dusty enough to show footprints clearly. Aodh snapped his fingers, sparks flying up towards the ceiling, glowing brightly enough to see by. "Try."
The patterns shifted, overlaying on themselves and retreating back toward Ian, and Sean caught himself thinking of one of Phoebe's skirts, layers of multicoloured lace shifting with her footsteps to look like ice crystals or fractals.
Ian was shaking by the time the pattern was only touching him, sparks hopping around the freckles on his arms and his face, and Sean directed a long look at his nephew, who was watching with narrowed, still gold-toned eyes.
Lightning crackled when Aodh laid a hand against Ian's chest, sharp scent of ozone and burned dust hitting Sean nearly as hard as the backshock from where he had skin touching Ian's.
"Are you insane?" he demanded when he could breathe again, hitching their semi-conscious relative back up to near-standing.
"Nah." Aodh grinned at him, sharp white teeth showing briefly before he licked a canine and closed his mouth again, flexing the fingers of the hand he'd shocked. "Just a bit too much my bloodlines than's good for anyone standin' next t'me."
"Ow," Ian mumbled.
"Sorry," Aodh replied, sincerely, still flexing his fingers. "But y're not glowing now, and I can do this."
His scars disappeared, and when Sean glanced at the wrist with the cord and the tattoo--not, he wasn't quite startled to note, the hand he'd touched Ian with--the leather cuff bracelet was back in place.
"I'll lead," he said, and Sean raised an eyebrow at him.
"You know where you're going?"
"You really have to ask?" as a breeze built up hard enough to push him forward a step again.
"What in hell did you do to your hair, y'little bastard?" was the first thing out of the attendant's mouth, once she pulled her jaw back up into place.
"Thought it'd hide the blood better," Aodh shot back easily, "'s't workin?" He half-twirled in place, and Sean caught a glimpse of three-stranded braid disappearing down the back of his shirt collar.
"Too bright," the attendant replied dismissively as she rose, coming out from behind the desk she'd been sitting at when they arrived. "Try a mud-brown. How's the leg holding up?"
"'m on it, aren't I?"
She crossed her arms, looked down her nose at all three of them. "That says nothing about the leg, and everything about you. Now, what brings your friends here with you? Picked a fight?"
"Just with myself," Ian replied softly, and she blinked.
"Well. Can't have that. Let's get you settled, and you can tell me what you did without the lot of us cluttering up the room until your very nice friend drops you."
Sean didn't snicker. Barely. Ian did snicker, smiling at the attendant warmly enough that it pulled a smile out of her in reply.
"Don't pull a runner on me, either, y'little bastard," she shot over her shoulder at Aodh as she pushed open a door to let Sean and Ian through. "I want to check that leg over."
"Yeah, yeah, y'll note 'm still here," Aodh replied mock irritably as the door opened a little wider without the benefit of hands to hold it so.
'Verse/characters: Wild Roses; Sean, second Ian, Aodh
Prompt: 100 "Writer's Choice - Lightning"
Word Count: 670
Rating: all ages
Notes: follows previous fairly directly. No, I don't know who the lady is. Or what he did to the leg.
It took three tries to get Ian upright, and that with Sean draping one too-thin arm across his shoulders and gripping a hip just short of bruisingly hard. Aodh was too short to put his own shoulder under Ian's other one without forcing Sean to crouch, and he scowled thoughtfully at the two of them.
"One-man carry?"
"Not unless you want me to get sick," Ian replied. "I may not've eaten anything in a while, but something'd still come up."
"Ew," Aodh said, and Sean privately agreed. " . . Can y'pull the webs back a bit?"
" . . Maybe?"
Aodh half-barked a laugh, then reached out and tugged Sean, and Ian with him, forward a step.
Another twilight room, this one empty and windowless, just dusty enough to show footprints clearly. Aodh snapped his fingers, sparks flying up towards the ceiling, glowing brightly enough to see by. "Try."
The patterns shifted, overlaying on themselves and retreating back toward Ian, and Sean caught himself thinking of one of Phoebe's skirts, layers of multicoloured lace shifting with her footsteps to look like ice crystals or fractals.
Ian was shaking by the time the pattern was only touching him, sparks hopping around the freckles on his arms and his face, and Sean directed a long look at his nephew, who was watching with narrowed, still gold-toned eyes.
Lightning crackled when Aodh laid a hand against Ian's chest, sharp scent of ozone and burned dust hitting Sean nearly as hard as the backshock from where he had skin touching Ian's.
"Are you insane?" he demanded when he could breathe again, hitching their semi-conscious relative back up to near-standing.
"Nah." Aodh grinned at him, sharp white teeth showing briefly before he licked a canine and closed his mouth again, flexing the fingers of the hand he'd shocked. "Just a bit too much my bloodlines than's good for anyone standin' next t'me."
"Ow," Ian mumbled.
"Sorry," Aodh replied, sincerely, still flexing his fingers. "But y're not glowing now, and I can do this."
His scars disappeared, and when Sean glanced at the wrist with the cord and the tattoo--not, he wasn't quite startled to note, the hand he'd touched Ian with--the leather cuff bracelet was back in place.
"I'll lead," he said, and Sean raised an eyebrow at him.
"You know where you're going?"
"You really have to ask?" as a breeze built up hard enough to push him forward a step again.
"What in hell did you do to your hair, y'little bastard?" was the first thing out of the attendant's mouth, once she pulled her jaw back up into place.
"Thought it'd hide the blood better," Aodh shot back easily, "'s't workin?" He half-twirled in place, and Sean caught a glimpse of three-stranded braid disappearing down the back of his shirt collar.
"Too bright," the attendant replied dismissively as she rose, coming out from behind the desk she'd been sitting at when they arrived. "Try a mud-brown. How's the leg holding up?"
"'m on it, aren't I?"
She crossed her arms, looked down her nose at all three of them. "That says nothing about the leg, and everything about you. Now, what brings your friends here with you? Picked a fight?"
"Just with myself," Ian replied softly, and she blinked.
"Well. Can't have that. Let's get you settled, and you can tell me what you did without the lot of us cluttering up the room until your very nice friend drops you."
Sean didn't snicker. Barely. Ian did snicker, smiling at the attendant warmly enough that it pulled a smile out of her in reply.
"Don't pull a runner on me, either, y'little bastard," she shot over her shoulder at Aodh as she pushed open a door to let Sean and Ian through. "I want to check that leg over."
"Yeah, yeah, y'll note 'm still here," Aodh replied mock irritably as the door opened a little wider without the benefit of hands to hold it so.