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tamingthemuseSo, my first prompt was number 80 (The Seventh Rule), and as this is my 300th prompt, I'm calling it quits. Thank you for letting me post my stories here for so long. I've enjoyed my time here very much and am sad to go, but all things must come to an end. (Just in time to start NaNo!)
Title: From the Darkest Night
Fandom: Exalted/ the Avengers
Prompt: Samhain or Halloween
Warnings: none
Rating: PG
Summary: Iron Dust came from humble beginnings, and snuck his way back into a humble life. Well, as far as we know…
“I’d say Halloween was last week, but then you’d give me that look that means you have no clue what I’m talking about. There it is. That’s the look I’m talking about. You’re wearing it right now.”
Words spilled out of the man’s mouth like water over a waterfall, gushing forth and confusing the poor people that dared too close. Iron Dust stared at the man, letting the magic still flowing through his body translate the words at its own pace. The language the man was speaking was a heady mixture of several different languages and it was quite the effort to follow the train of his thoughts when the words had different meanings in the languages that were so similar before they had been spewed from his lips.
“Yeah, I figure that that huge rip in the sky was a portal between worlds, universes, you know, well, I assume you know, as you came out of it. Do you even understand English?”
Iron Dust tilted his head to one side, conscious of the drying blood flaking off his neck at the motion. The man’s dark eyes flicked down to his blood soaked clothes before returning to his eyes.
“Yes,” Iron Dust said carefully, “I can understand some of what you are saying, but I must confess, you are hard to follow.”
He grinned. “Don’t sweat it, even those that have known me forever find me hard to follow. So, where you from?”
There were people gathering a short distance away, gawking at them, him, a low murmur of voices filling the air in a more familiar way than Iron Dust had thus far found in this new world. “The West,” he said, knowing that that answer wasn’t going to be helpful at all.
True to his prediction, the man frowned in mirrored confusion before his expression smoothed out and he waved a hand in the air between them. “You’re clearly not from Earth. Are you Asgardian?”
“I-do not know that term.”
“So you’re not buddies with Thor. Okay. Well, at least you’re not buddies with Loki either. That’s always a plus in my books.”
When the word translated, Iron Dust’s hand went to the satchel at his side, pressing firmly to the book hidden within. The weight was heavy on his shoulder, and his heart fluttered at the thought of what the Maidens had in store for him in this strange world with the people with their stolen words.
One black brow arched as the man watched him clutch desperately at the satchel, but he didn’t say a word, thankfully, and instead scratched at his bearded chin. “Well, anyway, SHIELD will want to talk with you, no doubt. In fact, I should think they would be here already.”
“We’re here,” a woman said as she and a second man approached. They were both watching him with the eyes of hunters, warriors, masters of their domain. Iron Dust was the intruder, and he was well aware of how out of reach is own domain was.
The first man turned his back to Iron Dust completely, startling him with the obvious trust he was placing in him after such as short acquaintance. Iron Dust licked his lips and was very careful not to touch the bow still strung over his shoulder opposite to the satchel. The other two never took their eyes off him.
The man watched him with open curiosity, his eyes roaming up and down his form, lingering on the bow, his brows slightly arched in surprise. The woman was harder to read, her dark eyes steady on his face after a quick inventory of his clothes, seeking weapons, no doubt. Iron Dust had plenty on him, ranging from small daggers, to a short sword secured at his back at waist level, his bow, ofuda, throwing knives, and even a meteor hammer he had snatched from a fallen enemy in his desperate race through the forest.
For a moment the woman’s steady regard reminded him of White Song, and his heart clenched in pain as he admitted to himself that she must be dead. Ranulf- Nolyn, he corrected himself, had told him the future, and he had yet to be proven wrong. Nolyn said they were dead this day, and Iron Dust was left to only accept that his closest friend was no more.
His weapons were in plain sight, and he kept still so as not to provoke the tigers waiting for his misstep. The other man, the dark one, had no such fear. He held out his hands in a grand gesture. “Well, it’s about time. Did none of you see that thing coming through that portal? I thought we were done with portals when Thor took Mr. Chel to be grounded by Daddy. Now here’re more portals popping up with no Tesseract in sight.”
“That was a leap,” the second man murmured with a quirk to his lips.
“Really? I thought it worked.” He shrugged.
“Who is your friend,” the woman asked him, still staring at Iron Dust.
The man opened his mouth to answer before he suddenly seemed to realize that he didn’t know Iron Dust. He turned back, eyes wide with laughter, his lips curved up at the ends. “Well, who are you?”
Iron Dust preformed a bow that wouldn’t have gotten him kicked out of a Dynast’s House. “My name,” he said, enunciating carefully, picking the proper words, “is Hefiofida. Ah, in your language, Iron Dust.”
The man’s grin grew as he stepped closer, offering his hand. “My name’s Tony Stark, but they,” he said with a head tilt back at the two starting at them, “call me Iron Man.”
Title: From the Darkest Night
Fandom: Exalted/ the Avengers
Prompt: Samhain or Halloween
Warnings: none
Rating: PG
Summary: Iron Dust came from humble beginnings, and snuck his way back into a humble life. Well, as far as we know…
“I’d say Halloween was last week, but then you’d give me that look that means you have no clue what I’m talking about. There it is. That’s the look I’m talking about. You’re wearing it right now.”
Words spilled out of the man’s mouth like water over a waterfall, gushing forth and confusing the poor people that dared too close. Iron Dust stared at the man, letting the magic still flowing through his body translate the words at its own pace. The language the man was speaking was a heady mixture of several different languages and it was quite the effort to follow the train of his thoughts when the words had different meanings in the languages that were so similar before they had been spewed from his lips.
“Yeah, I figure that that huge rip in the sky was a portal between worlds, universes, you know, well, I assume you know, as you came out of it. Do you even understand English?”
Iron Dust tilted his head to one side, conscious of the drying blood flaking off his neck at the motion. The man’s dark eyes flicked down to his blood soaked clothes before returning to his eyes.
“Yes,” Iron Dust said carefully, “I can understand some of what you are saying, but I must confess, you are hard to follow.”
He grinned. “Don’t sweat it, even those that have known me forever find me hard to follow. So, where you from?”
There were people gathering a short distance away, gawking at them, him, a low murmur of voices filling the air in a more familiar way than Iron Dust had thus far found in this new world. “The West,” he said, knowing that that answer wasn’t going to be helpful at all.
True to his prediction, the man frowned in mirrored confusion before his expression smoothed out and he waved a hand in the air between them. “You’re clearly not from Earth. Are you Asgardian?”
“I-do not know that term.”
“So you’re not buddies with Thor. Okay. Well, at least you’re not buddies with Loki either. That’s always a plus in my books.”
When the word translated, Iron Dust’s hand went to the satchel at his side, pressing firmly to the book hidden within. The weight was heavy on his shoulder, and his heart fluttered at the thought of what the Maidens had in store for him in this strange world with the people with their stolen words.
One black brow arched as the man watched him clutch desperately at the satchel, but he didn’t say a word, thankfully, and instead scratched at his bearded chin. “Well, anyway, SHIELD will want to talk with you, no doubt. In fact, I should think they would be here already.”
“We’re here,” a woman said as she and a second man approached. They were both watching him with the eyes of hunters, warriors, masters of their domain. Iron Dust was the intruder, and he was well aware of how out of reach is own domain was.
The first man turned his back to Iron Dust completely, startling him with the obvious trust he was placing in him after such as short acquaintance. Iron Dust licked his lips and was very careful not to touch the bow still strung over his shoulder opposite to the satchel. The other two never took their eyes off him.
The man watched him with open curiosity, his eyes roaming up and down his form, lingering on the bow, his brows slightly arched in surprise. The woman was harder to read, her dark eyes steady on his face after a quick inventory of his clothes, seeking weapons, no doubt. Iron Dust had plenty on him, ranging from small daggers, to a short sword secured at his back at waist level, his bow, ofuda, throwing knives, and even a meteor hammer he had snatched from a fallen enemy in his desperate race through the forest.
For a moment the woman’s steady regard reminded him of White Song, and his heart clenched in pain as he admitted to himself that she must be dead. Ranulf- Nolyn, he corrected himself, had told him the future, and he had yet to be proven wrong. Nolyn said they were dead this day, and Iron Dust was left to only accept that his closest friend was no more.
His weapons were in plain sight, and he kept still so as not to provoke the tigers waiting for his misstep. The other man, the dark one, had no such fear. He held out his hands in a grand gesture. “Well, it’s about time. Did none of you see that thing coming through that portal? I thought we were done with portals when Thor took Mr. Chel to be grounded by Daddy. Now here’re more portals popping up with no Tesseract in sight.”
“That was a leap,” the second man murmured with a quirk to his lips.
“Really? I thought it worked.” He shrugged.
“Who is your friend,” the woman asked him, still staring at Iron Dust.
The man opened his mouth to answer before he suddenly seemed to realize that he didn’t know Iron Dust. He turned back, eyes wide with laughter, his lips curved up at the ends. “Well, who are you?”
Iron Dust preformed a bow that wouldn’t have gotten him kicked out of a Dynast’s House. “My name,” he said, enunciating carefully, picking the proper words, “is Hefiofida. Ah, in your language, Iron Dust.”
The man’s grin grew as he stepped closer, offering his hand. “My name’s Tony Stark, but they,” he said with a head tilt back at the two starting at them, “call me Iron Man.”
no subject
Date: 2013-11-02 02:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-11-02 08:22 pm (UTC)