Tag Archives: Vignettes

Vignette: Jeep Hate Sidhe Music

A little bit of setup: This is a character — Jeep is her street name — for the tabletop roleplaying game Nightlife. At the beginning of our current game, she was sitting in a Kin-friendly bar drinking and listening to a Sidhe band play. Sidhe Bigwig enters and ends up singing along to an old-country dirge mourning all the things they’ve lost, which has quite an affect on most of the people in the room. Mostly this is me still trying to get a grasp on the character and her history, and wanting to get some internal stuff down that wouldn’t have/didn’t come out in actual role-play.

Damn the Sidhe, and damn their blasted song that brought faces from her past swinging violently to front and center. Brother and sisters at arms, the ones lost to war, and the ones left behind to pick up the pieces after; enemies who shouldn’t have been enemies; enemies who should never have been allowed to stand as long as they did; wars fought for noble causes, and wars fought for no reason. The decades slid past her mind’s eye, slowing only as they reached the beginning of her second life. They lingered there on the precipice, terrifying and taunting, then spilled over into the years she’d shoved aside longer than any others.

She saw the gentle face of a man young enough that the weathering still barely showed, but old enough that the horror and grief he held back was betrayed only by the crease of his brow and the twitch of his clenching jaw. Three children stood close to him, the oldest with her face pressed into his hip, refusing to look at whatever he was seeing; the second oldest cradling the third, a wailing infant, staring defiant and stubbornly forward, ignoring the tears that wet her ruddy cheeks. Next came the house, the one they’d built together; the farm they’d both worked until they ached and barely had the energy to make love; the family, all of them, his and hers both.

She shook herself out of the dark reverie and took a shaky swig from the beer in her hand, then swiped angrily at her wet cheeks. The tears came still. It was like she’d sprung a damned leak. She glanced at the rough man sitting at the bar next to her and realized with some surprise that he too was weeping. It almost made her laugh; almost.

It made her angry too, to have those memories unlocked unasked. She crushed down the impulse to throw her beer at the Sidhe man singing along in the booth nearby, the pretty one who’d drawn all eyes when he’d entered the room. The Wolf snarled inside her chest, and she knew that, for the first time in a long, long while, it would not allow itself to be sung into silence. Not for much longer anyway.

Conversation down the bar drew her attention away from her emotional wound-licking. Nasty creature afoot? Someone may need “taking care of”? She didn’t know these life-drinkers from Adam, but when they asked who wanted to come along, she threw her hat in. Better to cut  the Wolf loose somewhere useful than have it run rampant somewhere she’d feel guilty about later.

Character Vignette: Hollis

“Secure airlocks and prep for takeoff sequence. Authorization: Yelejna Eldorova Todorov, Second Princess of the Crown.”

The king of Somnersil scratched his chin thoughtfully as he watched his daughter on the the surveilance feed. She had boarded, and was attempting to comandeer one of the ships of his merchant fleet. He huffed a quiet laugh at the striking similarity to his own youth. Her mother had always claimed that she was more her father’s daughter than either of the other two.

Continue reading Character Vignette: Hollis

Character Vignette: Ferdie

The door chimed quietly.

Ferdinand drew deeply on the pipe of his shishe, letting smoke trail lazily from his nostrils as he called for the visitor to enter. Yelejna strode in, brisk but calm. She glanced at him and his smokey, bespectacled muzzle, and her eyes went immediately to the command panel on the far side of the room where Ferdinand had manually shut off the reactive fire safety protocols for the room.

Continue reading Character Vignette: Ferdie

Dream Journal: 10/12/04

Note: This is a cleaned up/edited “flash fiction” version of a dream. Effort has been made to stay as true to the dream itself as possible.

Just when I thought we would never be done with walking, the undergrowth cleared, and there, finally, terrifying, was the beast. It stood watching us as if it had been waiting all along for our arrival. Its red aura painted a wicked, pulsing light on the trees around it, their bark seeming to ripple and wither away in its glow.

My body quivered with the instinct to flee. Jaren, unnoticing, stood ready to fight. But still the beast waited. I reached out and shook Jaren’s arm to get his attention. I don’t remember what I meant to say, but the words that came out were, “I’m going to run.” He turned then, shock raising his eyebrows, but he didn’t say anything.

“My powers won’t work here.” I held out my hands, a combined gesture of display and helplessness. The marks on my palms were already fading. Jaren saw and nodded, his face impenetrable once again. But for the first time since I’d known him, I thought I saw fear in his eyes.

I turned to go, the flight instinct creeping back in, but hesitated. I looked back to see Jaren watching me. His armored form eclipsed the waiting beast, a bloody corona casting his features into shadow. Feeling something more needed to be said, but not sure what, instead I closed the gap between us, and took hold of his collar, hauling him down into a kiss.

I had thought about what it might be like before, though in such girlish fantasies, it had always been him coming to me, my mouth yielding under his. I’m not quite sure exactly what I expected, but found myself more than pleasantly surprised when there was no hesitation in him. As our lips met, his kiss was soft and urgent — and over much too quickly. As he broke away, I placed both palms against the cool surface of his breastplate, pouring the remnants of my power into him.

He took my hands and squeezed them gently, and I could see the fear had melted from his face. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I wished that it might be because of more than my magic, and that I might see him again to find out.

But Jaren dropped my hands and turned toward the beast again. The last thing he said was, “I will find you. Run.

I did.