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tamingthemuse2013-12-14 10:57 pm
moriwen1.livejournal.com) wrote in tamingthemuse2013-12-14 10:57 pm
Entry tags:
Prompt #386 - Nerve Gas - Balloons and Ballooners - Moriwen1 - Original
Title: Balloons and Ballooners
Fandom: Original
Prompt: Nerve Gas
Warnings: Implied character death
Rating: PG
Summary: Cassandra’s eyes were watering, but it wasn’t sympathy. It wasn’t even tears. It was just the terrible, inescapable burning gases that filled the room, choking her on every breath.
Part the First: Gas
Some people call it Heliopolis; some call it the City of a Thousand Suns. Cassandra calls it “home.”
It comes in slices like a layer cake, although without the sweet whipped cream in between. The base of the city is full of smells and sounds and ringing bells, and the local merchants hawking street-goods and hot foods steaming in the cool crisp air. Peasants come on their twice-yearly journey up the hill to the great gates, with wagons heavy with golden grain or herds of livestock with hooves that clatter and stamp on the cobblestones. The children stand and gawk upwards at buildings that seem to soar upwards forever, at the underbellies of the great balloons, distorted with the gases that lift them.
Higher in the city, merchants recently disembarked dicker over the loads of their airships, and the well-to-do come and go. There are shops here too, but of finer craftsmanship than the ones below, gem-cutters and pastry chefs and those who carve musical instruments. In place of the broad paved paths which the people throng below, here delicate bridges arch, each stone placed with a blessing to hold it, and the keystone carved with a dragon. The children of the rich and powerful hang over the railings, curious and longing for the bustle of sounds and smells which they can only glimpse below them.
At the utmost dizzying heights of Heliopolis, so high that the clouds above become mist to be touched with an outstretched hand, the airships dock. From the small one-man balloons, sewn by a maiden aunt and many times mended, to the great crafts all the way from Tyre, they cast anchor and come to buy and sell. Besides the docks themselves, only the spires of the great temple reach so high, and in its highest chamber the Sister-Queen and Brother-King sit and watch their domain prosper.
Part the Second: Nerve
Suddenly, the great thick rope gave a startled twitch, and Steel jumped back as from a snake. Cassandra looked up, and there in the distance she could just see a silhouette of a figure, too far off to guess at gender. It slid towards them rapidly, though, and the voice that hallooed as it slid was a woman’s.
She let the rope go some feet above their heads and hit the ground on all fours, bracing herself for impact with her leather-wrapped hands. The gesture was so catlike that Cassandra was almost confused when the woman stood and greeted them with a smile. “I’m Elsa. And what would a nice couple like you be doing out here in the middle of nowhere? I hope you have a license for whatever’s in those bags.”
“Just our personal effects,” Steel said, at the same time as Cassandra snapped, “You. Of course.”
“Hello to you too,” said Elsa, shifting the anchor to snag it more securely on a root.
“Sorry,” Steel broke in, “but do you two know each other, then?”
“We’ve done business,” Elsa answered mildly.
“. . . And you don’t so much, well -- get along?”
Cassandra spoke in a carefully level voice. “Her money’s good enough.”
In response to a questioning glance from Steel, Elsa shrugged. “I’m sure I don’t know. I’m a businesswoman, can’t go making enemies with good contacts like Cassie here. She never took a liking to me, somehow.”
The silence was palpable. Cassandra couldn’t quite be accused of glaring, if only because she kept breaking off her icy stare at Elsa to look at Steel.
In the end, Elsa was the one who broke it. “So, am I coming along, then?”
Part the Third: Nerve Gas
“Please, Cassie. Please help!” Elsa looked up at her, pleading, her voice still soft even as she scrambled desperately to get enough of a grip on the smooth metal to pull herself up. She was trapped, one leg buried to the thigh in the corroded hole, the other trapped under rubble and wreckage.
Cassandra’s eyes were watering, but it wasn’t sympathy. It wasn’t even tears. It was just the terrible, inescapable burning gases that filled the room, choking her on every breath.
“Please, Cassie!” Elsa’s voice was rasping now, as she tried to speak through the pain. It was annoying. The room was blurring, but Cassandra knew what she had to do.
Two strides took her across the room. One swift motion let her shove Elsa backwards, lodging her hips in the hole and plugging it -- Elsa was stronger than her, but in no position to struggle.
Cassandra nearly collapsed, having done it, but the act had bought her some time. The fumes of the sulfur were blocked now. If she could only get to Steel before--
She lost her train of thought, then, as everything went black. It could have been moments or minutes later that she found herself sprawled full-length on the floor, mere feet from a gasping Elsa. She grabbed onto the wall with all the strength she could muster and staggered towards the door, covering her burning eyes. She just had to find Steel. Find Steel and get out.
- - Some time later . . . - -
“You killed her,” said Steel, his voice almost soft enough to hide the tremble.
“I did it for you!”
“You killed her, and now she’s dead.”
Cassandra wasn’t sure if he was addressing her or not. She answered anyway. “I’d do it again. Do you blame me?”
Steel shrugged, a sharp motion as much with the neck as with the shoulders. “People like her skin people like me at the market every fall. Guess I shouldn’t.” He was silent for a while, tongue dancing over teeth in thought, then added mildly, “Could you try to avoid killing people, in future?”
“If you’ll avoid putting yourself in positions where I have to.”
Fandom: Original
Prompt: Nerve Gas
Warnings: Implied character death
Rating: PG
Summary: Cassandra’s eyes were watering, but it wasn’t sympathy. It wasn’t even tears. It was just the terrible, inescapable burning gases that filled the room, choking her on every breath.
Part the First: Gas
Some people call it Heliopolis; some call it the City of a Thousand Suns. Cassandra calls it “home.”
It comes in slices like a layer cake, although without the sweet whipped cream in between. The base of the city is full of smells and sounds and ringing bells, and the local merchants hawking street-goods and hot foods steaming in the cool crisp air. Peasants come on their twice-yearly journey up the hill to the great gates, with wagons heavy with golden grain or herds of livestock with hooves that clatter and stamp on the cobblestones. The children stand and gawk upwards at buildings that seem to soar upwards forever, at the underbellies of the great balloons, distorted with the gases that lift them.
Higher in the city, merchants recently disembarked dicker over the loads of their airships, and the well-to-do come and go. There are shops here too, but of finer craftsmanship than the ones below, gem-cutters and pastry chefs and those who carve musical instruments. In place of the broad paved paths which the people throng below, here delicate bridges arch, each stone placed with a blessing to hold it, and the keystone carved with a dragon. The children of the rich and powerful hang over the railings, curious and longing for the bustle of sounds and smells which they can only glimpse below them.
At the utmost dizzying heights of Heliopolis, so high that the clouds above become mist to be touched with an outstretched hand, the airships dock. From the small one-man balloons, sewn by a maiden aunt and many times mended, to the great crafts all the way from Tyre, they cast anchor and come to buy and sell. Besides the docks themselves, only the spires of the great temple reach so high, and in its highest chamber the Sister-Queen and Brother-King sit and watch their domain prosper.
Part the Second: Nerve
Suddenly, the great thick rope gave a startled twitch, and Steel jumped back as from a snake. Cassandra looked up, and there in the distance she could just see a silhouette of a figure, too far off to guess at gender. It slid towards them rapidly, though, and the voice that hallooed as it slid was a woman’s.
She let the rope go some feet above their heads and hit the ground on all fours, bracing herself for impact with her leather-wrapped hands. The gesture was so catlike that Cassandra was almost confused when the woman stood and greeted them with a smile. “I’m Elsa. And what would a nice couple like you be doing out here in the middle of nowhere? I hope you have a license for whatever’s in those bags.”
“Just our personal effects,” Steel said, at the same time as Cassandra snapped, “You. Of course.”
“Hello to you too,” said Elsa, shifting the anchor to snag it more securely on a root.
“Sorry,” Steel broke in, “but do you two know each other, then?”
“We’ve done business,” Elsa answered mildly.
“. . . And you don’t so much, well -- get along?”
Cassandra spoke in a carefully level voice. “Her money’s good enough.”
In response to a questioning glance from Steel, Elsa shrugged. “I’m sure I don’t know. I’m a businesswoman, can’t go making enemies with good contacts like Cassie here. She never took a liking to me, somehow.”
The silence was palpable. Cassandra couldn’t quite be accused of glaring, if only because she kept breaking off her icy stare at Elsa to look at Steel.
In the end, Elsa was the one who broke it. “So, am I coming along, then?”
Part the Third: Nerve Gas
“Please, Cassie. Please help!” Elsa looked up at her, pleading, her voice still soft even as she scrambled desperately to get enough of a grip on the smooth metal to pull herself up. She was trapped, one leg buried to the thigh in the corroded hole, the other trapped under rubble and wreckage.
Cassandra’s eyes were watering, but it wasn’t sympathy. It wasn’t even tears. It was just the terrible, inescapable burning gases that filled the room, choking her on every breath.
“Please, Cassie!” Elsa’s voice was rasping now, as she tried to speak through the pain. It was annoying. The room was blurring, but Cassandra knew what she had to do.
Two strides took her across the room. One swift motion let her shove Elsa backwards, lodging her hips in the hole and plugging it -- Elsa was stronger than her, but in no position to struggle.
Cassandra nearly collapsed, having done it, but the act had bought her some time. The fumes of the sulfur were blocked now. If she could only get to Steel before--
She lost her train of thought, then, as everything went black. It could have been moments or minutes later that she found herself sprawled full-length on the floor, mere feet from a gasping Elsa. She grabbed onto the wall with all the strength she could muster and staggered towards the door, covering her burning eyes. She just had to find Steel. Find Steel and get out.
- - Some time later . . . - -
“You killed her,” said Steel, his voice almost soft enough to hide the tremble.
“I did it for you!”
“You killed her, and now she’s dead.”
Cassandra wasn’t sure if he was addressing her or not. She answered anyway. “I’d do it again. Do you blame me?”
Steel shrugged, a sharp motion as much with the neck as with the shoulders. “People like her skin people like me at the market every fall. Guess I shouldn’t.” He was silent for a while, tongue dancing over teeth in thought, then added mildly, “Could you try to avoid killing people, in future?”
“If you’ll avoid putting yourself in positions where I have to.”