Your prompts are getting harder to decipher, it has to be said. Is 'A breath of fresh air' because... you've installed an oxgyen system for the house, so there's a constant positive pressure inside that keeps all the smoke outside? If so, it's a good job none of you smoke :)
A breath of fresh air Elizabeth frowned. She and Alexander were stood in the tenement building in Shoreditch, looking at the dead body of a middle-aged woman. She had been stabbed in the chest, a little to the right of her heart, and it looked as though the single blow had been fatal. Blood had spread out a little from either side of her body and flies were flitting around the room, landing and drinking whenever they felt bold enough. There was little smell of putrefaction. "Recently dead," said Elizabeth. She looked around. "Someone else was here, they've cleaned up." "Strong traces of the power," said Alexander. He took a shimmering square of fabric, something like a handkerchief square, and shook it open. Thousands of hair-thin filaments drifted out like a jellyfish swimming in the ocean and it seemed to hang in the air defying gravity. After several seconds it twisted and clumped in places, thinning out in others, until it was a topographic map of the residues of power in the room. To anyone other than Elizabeth and Alexander it would have looked like art, but had no more meaning beyond that. "That could be a demon conjuration," said Elizabeth. "I don't think I've seen these peaks here before though." "Characteristic of the East German school," said Alexander. "They're not necessary for the spell, but they provide very convenient hooks for additional spells. Labdaris was Grandmaster there for nearly fifteen years and he was very fond of chaining spells. He wrote the second and third volumes of Libro di pensieri incatenati." "I hope he recovered from that," said Elizabeth, her thoughts elsewhere. Alexander snorted, but waited for her attention to return. "This is odd. This is really odd, Alex. This... this isn't a... a... mathematical demon. This is a summoning like the tal-gremshul. There's a physical component to this." Alexander walked over to the tenement's window and looked out while he thought. The street below was still thronged with people, though they were quiet for East London; their cries and conversations only just reached this high as a dull mutter. To the east he could see the steeple of Bow Church, and in the west the sun was turning orange as it sank to the horizon. "A physical demon," he said at last. "Well, you're the demonology expert, Lizzie. What does that mean?"
"You must be Dignity's daughter," said Lord Derby. He bowed slightly, his shoulders dropping enough to be polite when he was unsure of the exact social status of the person he was greeting. "You can call me Grace," said the woman. Her accent was heavy enough that it sounded like 'Gratz'. "It is not my name, obviously. But before we address formalities and pleasantries tell me, did you retrieve the zbornat?"
Inhale. Exhale. I could still sense the pain on my periphery; it glowed like embers against the mental wall I first erected all those years ago. The brightness waxed and waned with each movement of my legs or arms as I limped ever further from the Renterran camp. As if from far away, I could feel the shadows of broken bones and torn, tattered flesh. But now there was a new fire trying to burn my wall to the ground. Silvia. If my fingers hadn’t been broken, I would have clenched them at my sides. My muscles tensed with anger. I was mad at the Renterrans for capturing and torturing me. I was angry at the tall blond Renterran for accepting Silvia’s trade. I was livid at Silvia for suggesting the trade in the first place. Her for me? What in Fate’s Good Plan kind of trade was that? She had to have known that the Renterrans would do the most unspeakable things to her. They would torture her a lot worse than they did me, then kill her in the slowest, most agonizing way possible. I was merely her brother. She had her whole life ahead of her. And she chose to throw it away for me? In the dark woods surrounding the long road back to home, a trek I doubted I would even survive, I had a sudden moment of clarity. I knew why Silvia made the decision to give up her life to try and save mine. Silvia wanted to die.
Greg - I'm just going to assume this was inspired by the retreating smoke levels, because I can't think of another reason I wanted to use this prompt.
Took me a second to realize the intro scene was part of the Derby tale. I like how you manage to do that to me. Also: so good. Just, so good.
Am - really great atmosphere and emotion in this one. The realization at the end leaves me wondering if he'll allow Silvia her choice. I hope you let us know at some point :)
3 comments:
Your prompts are getting harder to decipher, it has to be said. Is 'A breath of fresh air' because... you've installed an oxgyen system for the house, so there's a constant positive pressure inside that keeps all the smoke outside? If so, it's a good job none of you smoke :)
A breath of fresh air
Elizabeth frowned. She and Alexander were stood in the tenement building in Shoreditch, looking at the dead body of a middle-aged woman. She had been stabbed in the chest, a little to the right of her heart, and it looked as though the single blow had been fatal. Blood had spread out a little from either side of her body and flies were flitting around the room, landing and drinking whenever they felt bold enough. There was little smell of putrefaction.
"Recently dead," said Elizabeth. She looked around. "Someone else was here, they've cleaned up."
"Strong traces of the power," said Alexander. He took a shimmering square of fabric, something like a handkerchief square, and shook it open. Thousands of hair-thin filaments drifted out like a jellyfish swimming in the ocean and it seemed to hang in the air defying gravity. After several seconds it twisted and clumped in places, thinning out in others, until it was a topographic map of the residues of power in the room. To anyone other than Elizabeth and Alexander it would have looked like art, but had no more meaning beyond that.
"That could be a demon conjuration," said Elizabeth. "I don't think I've seen these peaks here before though."
"Characteristic of the East German school," said Alexander. "They're not necessary for the spell, but they provide very convenient hooks for additional spells. Labdaris was Grandmaster there for nearly fifteen years and he was very fond of chaining spells. He wrote the second and third volumes of Libro di pensieri incatenati."
"I hope he recovered from that," said Elizabeth, her thoughts elsewhere. Alexander snorted, but waited for her attention to return.
"This is odd. This is really odd, Alex. This... this isn't a... a... mathematical demon. This is a summoning like the tal-gremshul. There's a physical component to this."
Alexander walked over to the tenement's window and looked out while he thought. The street below was still thronged with people, though they were quiet for East London; their cries and conversations only just reached this high as a dull mutter. To the east he could see the steeple of Bow Church, and in the west the sun was turning orange as it sank to the horizon.
"A physical demon," he said at last. "Well, you're the demonology expert, Lizzie. What does that mean?"
"You must be Dignity's daughter," said Lord Derby. He bowed slightly, his shoulders dropping enough to be polite when he was unsure of the exact social status of the person he was greeting.
"You can call me Grace," said the woman. Her accent was heavy enough that it sounded like 'Gratz'. "It is not my name, obviously. But before we address formalities and pleasantries tell me, did you retrieve the zbornat?"
Inhale. Exhale.
I could still sense the pain on my periphery; it glowed like embers against the mental wall I first erected all those years ago. The brightness waxed and waned with each movement of my legs or arms as I limped ever further from the Renterran camp. As if from far away, I could feel the shadows of broken bones and torn, tattered flesh. But now there was a new fire trying to burn my wall to the ground.
Silvia.
If my fingers hadn’t been broken, I would have clenched them at my sides. My muscles tensed with anger. I was mad at the Renterrans for capturing and torturing me. I was angry at the tall blond Renterran for accepting Silvia’s trade. I was livid at Silvia for suggesting the trade in the first place.
Her for me? What in Fate’s Good Plan kind of trade was that?
She had to have known that the Renterrans would do the most unspeakable things to her. They would torture her a lot worse than they did me, then kill her in the slowest, most agonizing way possible.
I was merely her brother. She had her whole life ahead of her. And she chose to throw it away for me?
In the dark woods surrounding the long road back to home, a trek I doubted I would even survive, I had a sudden moment of clarity. I knew why Silvia made the decision to give up her life to try and save mine.
Silvia wanted to die.
Greg - I'm just going to assume this was inspired by the retreating smoke levels, because I can't think of another reason I wanted to use this prompt.
Took me a second to realize the intro scene was part of the Derby tale. I like how you manage to do that to me. Also: so good. Just, so good.
Am - really great atmosphere and emotion in this one. The realization at the end leaves me wondering if he'll allow Silvia her choice. I hope you let us know at some point :)
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