![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
helenas-mask.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
tamingthemuseTitle: Under the Mask
Fandom: Mirrormask
Prompt: Necrotizing fasciitis
Warnings: A bit gross, but not hard core
Rating: Dunno ratings. Harmless I guess.
Summary: During the winter, Helena muses over Valentines need for a mask.
(Hiya, I'm a N00b, so be gentle. Mirrormask is owned by Henson and Gaiman. Henson + Gaiman = best pairing ever!)
The rain smacked at the windows, drowning out the sound of Aunt Nan's soaps in the other room. Helena flopped down on the floor and stretched out, yawning loudly. She had been drawing all day, but was now bored. The winter months when they weren't on the road were always tedious, but it was even more so now that her mother and father had taken what they called a "Well deserved break", and run off to Greece for a week. Helena had agreed with minimal grumbling, she was eager to agree with anything that would help her mothers recuperation, but the long days trapped inside her Aunt Nan's apartment had quickly made her resent her descision.
She rolled over on to her stomach and let her face flop onto the carpet. Her feet waved lazily in the air, toes twitching in her socks. It was days like this that she wished she could visit the City whenever she wanted. But she had learned long ago she had no real control over her access to the City.
Helena dragged her eyes around the small portion of the room that she could see. Her eyes rested on the bookshelf in the corner of the room. It was mostly covered in ornaments; those that her parents had brought back from their annual trek around the country, several dodgy things that Helena had made from clay in her infant years. The books were a sad and sorry bunch. All Aunt Nan owned was a collection of dog-eared Mills and Boon and a dates series of Encyclopedia Britanica. Noting with some amusement just how bored she was, Helena dragged herself over to the shelf and pulled down one of the battered paperbacks.
Ten minutes into the soppiest story she had ever read and Helena let the book fall from her hands, her face screwed up in disgust. She reached blindly over her head and grasped the first book she laid her hands on; the N book of the Encyclopedia.
The book was too heavy for her to read lying down. She rolled back over onto her stomach and spread the open book in front of her, her eyes flicking over the entries for Napalm, the Napoleonic Wars... a disturbing picture made her stop. With her nose screwed up she sounded out the title of the entry, "Ne-cro-tiz-ing fasc-ii-tis... eww!" she said, leaning forward to examine the horrific image more closely. She skimmed over the details, picking up words like "Flesh Eating Disease" and "Amputation" before she flipped the book shut.
She rolled onto her back and pulled off her socks. She wiggled her toes again, and with the psychosomatic urge to tear off all her clothes and check for any signs of the disease. She imagined living her life with such a disease, or worse, living with the aftermath. Having horrific scars that she would have to cover for the rest of her life. She closed her eyes and daydreamed, seeing her performing in the ring, a hideous creature trailing bandages and rags as she lunged and grasped at the children in the audience. Hiding behind a mask...
With that thought her eyes shot open. As her thoughts so often did at random times during the day, she found them turning to her friend Valentine. He wore a mask. Despite how close they had grown, she had yet to see what lay beneath. Could it be the horribly disfigured face of a survivor of Necrotizing fasciitis?
"Helena! Tea Time!" She was broken from her disturbing vision by Aunt Nan calling her name. She rolled over and stood, scratching her head sleepily before bending down to retrieve her socks. She put the books back on the shelf and gave a small laugh at her own imagination running away from her. She gave another yawn, and wondered what was for tea, a part of her hoping it would be something light. Dry toast perhaps...
Fandom: Mirrormask
Prompt: Necrotizing fasciitis
Warnings: A bit gross, but not hard core
Rating: Dunno ratings. Harmless I guess.
Summary: During the winter, Helena muses over Valentines need for a mask.
(Hiya, I'm a N00b, so be gentle. Mirrormask is owned by Henson and Gaiman. Henson + Gaiman = best pairing ever!)
The rain smacked at the windows, drowning out the sound of Aunt Nan's soaps in the other room. Helena flopped down on the floor and stretched out, yawning loudly. She had been drawing all day, but was now bored. The winter months when they weren't on the road were always tedious, but it was even more so now that her mother and father had taken what they called a "Well deserved break", and run off to Greece for a week. Helena had agreed with minimal grumbling, she was eager to agree with anything that would help her mothers recuperation, but the long days trapped inside her Aunt Nan's apartment had quickly made her resent her descision.
She rolled over on to her stomach and let her face flop onto the carpet. Her feet waved lazily in the air, toes twitching in her socks. It was days like this that she wished she could visit the City whenever she wanted. But she had learned long ago she had no real control over her access to the City.
Helena dragged her eyes around the small portion of the room that she could see. Her eyes rested on the bookshelf in the corner of the room. It was mostly covered in ornaments; those that her parents had brought back from their annual trek around the country, several dodgy things that Helena had made from clay in her infant years. The books were a sad and sorry bunch. All Aunt Nan owned was a collection of dog-eared Mills and Boon and a dates series of Encyclopedia Britanica. Noting with some amusement just how bored she was, Helena dragged herself over to the shelf and pulled down one of the battered paperbacks.
Ten minutes into the soppiest story she had ever read and Helena let the book fall from her hands, her face screwed up in disgust. She reached blindly over her head and grasped the first book she laid her hands on; the N book of the Encyclopedia.
The book was too heavy for her to read lying down. She rolled back over onto her stomach and spread the open book in front of her, her eyes flicking over the entries for Napalm, the Napoleonic Wars... a disturbing picture made her stop. With her nose screwed up she sounded out the title of the entry, "Ne-cro-tiz-ing fasc-ii-tis... eww!" she said, leaning forward to examine the horrific image more closely. She skimmed over the details, picking up words like "Flesh Eating Disease" and "Amputation" before she flipped the book shut.
She rolled onto her back and pulled off her socks. She wiggled her toes again, and with the psychosomatic urge to tear off all her clothes and check for any signs of the disease. She imagined living her life with such a disease, or worse, living with the aftermath. Having horrific scars that she would have to cover for the rest of her life. She closed her eyes and daydreamed, seeing her performing in the ring, a hideous creature trailing bandages and rags as she lunged and grasped at the children in the audience. Hiding behind a mask...
With that thought her eyes shot open. As her thoughts so often did at random times during the day, she found them turning to her friend Valentine. He wore a mask. Despite how close they had grown, she had yet to see what lay beneath. Could it be the horribly disfigured face of a survivor of Necrotizing fasciitis?
"Helena! Tea Time!" She was broken from her disturbing vision by Aunt Nan calling her name. She rolled over and stood, scratching her head sleepily before bending down to retrieve her socks. She put the books back on the shelf and gave a small laugh at her own imagination running away from her. She gave another yawn, and wondered what was for tea, a part of her hoping it would be something light. Dry toast perhaps...
no subject
Date: 2008-08-31 09:38 am (UTC)*laughs* I love that last line. I'd be joining Helena in wanting nothing but dry toast, if I'd read that entry in the encyclopedia, too.
I love the little details you built into this picture - the way she rolled over, the way she wriggled her toes inside her socks.
Also the bigger picture of the room and her aunt - it showed clearly the limited intellectual life her aunt lived - soaps and Mills & Boon. Very nice.
I love Gaimen and Henson, but I don't think I've seen this film *goes off to order it from the rental company* Thank you for the tip.