Jenny spoke. "Of course it isn't! You are so naive. You thought I actually liked you. You were just in the way, until I realized what use you could be to me and the cause. You are a snivelling brat, not even as clever as one of these little children here! Well, you'll learn something now. You're going to stay here, and King Tannerlin is going to make major concessions to the fauns to get you back unharmed!"
Melanie stared at Jenny in shock, her eyes filling with tears. She had thought Jenny truly liked her, that Jenny was her friend.
She suddenly noticed that Esme was pulling on her arm and whispering frantically. "Run now, lady, run now, before they grab us." Melanie saw that the children had vanished, and adult fauns were advancing on them from every side of the village. She grabbed Esme's hand and ran straight for Jenny, knocking her down and surging into the doorway of the house she had come from. They were in a darkened room with a fireplace to their left and another open door directly in front of them. They ran straight across the room and through the open door. They were outside again, on the other side of the village. They ran across the house's yard, and up a little ridge and down the other side. The sounds of the yelling fauns diminished slightly.
They were in dry hills, with a creek running past them to the village. There was a tree ahead, and more ridges. They kept right on running over several of these little ridges. Finally they couldn't hear the village anymore.
They looked around. They were a little higher in the mountains now, and there were patches of snow on the ground. The creek still ran next to them, down the hill from them. Up the hill a little ways was a dark hole. They climbed up to it. It was steep and they slid a lot, but helping each other they got up to the hole. It was a cave, and it was dry and deserted. No one, not even an animal, had used the cave recently. They crawled inside.
@Morganna: does Melanie have any idea where she is now? She's gone a long way from home I think... and now she's in a deserted cave. Great scene setting!
@Marc: feel free to add to this small tale of Red and Emma you know ;-) I'm catching up on comments again now: I spent all of yesterday travelling to move back to Malta, and almost all of Saturday cleaning the old flat and packing everything up. Almost because I did pop out briefly with a Ukrainian friend for lunch and to give him my PS/4 since I wasn't trying to take that on a plane with me :) [For anyone reading this and feeling confused, I'm now on Monday even though this prompt was for Thursday.]
Something in the way Emma slipped into the bar. For a moment she remembered her grandfather telling her about when smoking was allowed indoors and wondered if clouds of smoke and standing ashtrays would have made it easier to check the pub out without being noticed herself. Then she slipped between the frosted-glass window and a group of young men shouting about killing people with shovels and was effectively invisible. The man who'd spoken to her was against a wall, guarding a table with one chair and two stools like a Rottweiler, and the woman was... oh that was interesting. The woman wasn't looking where she was going. The overfull brandy snifter jolted as the woman caught Red's elbow and somehow the liquid jumped violently from the glass, almost as though Red had been expecting this, and splashed over the woman's blouse and dark, tailored suit jacket. She gasped, and took a step back, now colliding with a tall, youngish man struggling to grow a neck-beard. He was carrying four drinks clutched together, so they also spilled and one fell to the floor, smashing. Sudsy beer splashed the woman's ankles and engulfed her pumps -- and Emma was certain they were suede or some other water-dreading fabric. Silence cascaded over the pub as people turned and stared, the last voice to hush being one of the group Emma was hiding behind. "...so I pushed him off the roof and then smacked the last one in the face with a shovel." He looked round, suddenly aware everyone had heard him. "I'm playing Far Cry 5," he said, just a little plaintively. Emma slipped out away from them and sat herself at the stranger's table, where he was staring across the room in patent dismay. "Young lady," said Red, managing to put an impressive amount of treble into his voice. "It's considered polite to wait to be offered a drink, not to attempt to steal from those around you." "Hello," said Emma. The man, who'd been starting to stand up, looked at her and visibly started. "Where the fu-? How did you--?" He looked across the pub and then back at her, slowly sinking back into his seat. "I've heard stories that you just appear in front of people like that." "It happens when you say my true-name three times," said Emma. "There's a bit of fuss over there." She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. "You can't wear that blouse now," said Red giving new meaning to the word stentorian. "You smell like an alcoholic's doxie. Take it off!" "Oh dear God," said the man, sinking further into his seat so that he didn't have to look at what was happening across the floor. "Oh sweet blessed Mother of Heaven." Emma shifted in her seat so he had to look at her. "There," she said. "If anyone asks now you can tell them honestly there was something in the way and you couldn't see what was happening. And since I'm being so nice to you, you can tell me what all this is about, can't you?" "Does anyone have a jacket for this poor, skinny wench?" bellowed Red. "She's not wearing a bra under this blouse."
Morganna - ah, a frenetic escape into unknown territory... great stuff :)
Greg - oh man, I'm loving Red in this scene. Emma too, obviously, but Red is doing a fine job of stealing the spotlight. I imagine it will return to Emma and her conversation in the next installment, but I am still smiling as I type this.
3 comments:
Jenny spoke. "Of course it isn't! You are so naive. You thought I actually liked you. You were just in the way, until I realized what use you could be to me and the cause. You are a snivelling brat, not even as clever as one of these little children here! Well, you'll learn something now. You're going to stay here, and King Tannerlin is going to make major concessions to the fauns to get you back unharmed!"
Melanie stared at Jenny in shock, her eyes filling with tears. She had thought Jenny truly liked her, that Jenny was her friend.
She suddenly noticed that Esme was pulling on her arm and whispering frantically. "Run now, lady, run now, before they grab us." Melanie saw that the children had vanished, and adult fauns were advancing on them from every side of the village. She grabbed Esme's hand and ran straight for Jenny, knocking her down and surging into the doorway of the house she had come from. They were in a darkened room with a fireplace to their left and another open door directly in front of them. They ran straight across the room and through the open door. They were outside again, on the other side of the village. They ran across the house's yard, and up a little ridge and down the other side. The sounds of the yelling fauns diminished slightly.
They were in dry hills, with a creek running past them to the village. There was a tree ahead, and more ridges. They kept right on running over several of these little ridges. Finally they couldn't hear the village anymore.
They looked around. They were a little higher in the mountains now, and there were patches of snow on the ground. The creek still ran next to them, down the hill from them. Up the hill a little ways was a dark hole. They climbed up to it. It was steep and they slid a lot, but helping each other they got up to the hole. It was a cave, and it was dry and deserted. No one, not even an animal, had used the cave recently. They crawled inside.
@Morganna: does Melanie have any idea where she is now? She's gone a long way from home I think... and now she's in a deserted cave. Great scene setting!
@Marc: feel free to add to this small tale of Red and Emma you know ;-) I'm catching up on comments again now: I spent all of yesterday travelling to move back to Malta, and almost all of Saturday cleaning the old flat and packing everything up. Almost because I did pop out briefly with a Ukrainian friend for lunch and to give him my PS/4 since I wasn't trying to take that on a plane with me :) [For anyone reading this and feeling confused, I'm now on Monday even though this prompt was for Thursday.]
Something in the way
Emma slipped into the bar. For a moment she remembered her grandfather telling her about when smoking was allowed indoors and wondered if clouds of smoke and standing ashtrays would have made it easier to check the pub out without being noticed herself. Then she slipped between the frosted-glass window and a group of young men shouting about killing people with shovels and was effectively invisible. The man who'd spoken to her was against a wall, guarding a table with one chair and two stools like a Rottweiler, and the woman was... oh that was interesting. The woman wasn't looking where she was going.
The overfull brandy snifter jolted as the woman caught Red's elbow and somehow the liquid jumped violently from the glass, almost as though Red had been expecting this, and splashed over the woman's blouse and dark, tailored suit jacket. She gasped, and took a step back, now colliding with a tall, youngish man struggling to grow a neck-beard. He was carrying four drinks clutched together, so they also spilled and one fell to the floor, smashing. Sudsy beer splashed the woman's ankles and engulfed her pumps -- and Emma was certain they were suede or some other water-dreading fabric. Silence cascaded over the pub as people turned and stared, the last voice to hush being one of the group Emma was hiding behind.
"...so I pushed him off the roof and then smacked the last one in the face with a shovel."
He looked round, suddenly aware everyone had heard him.
"I'm playing Far Cry 5," he said, just a little plaintively.
Emma slipped out away from them and sat herself at the stranger's table, where he was staring across the room in patent dismay.
"Young lady," said Red, managing to put an impressive amount of treble into his voice. "It's considered polite to wait to be offered a drink, not to attempt to steal from those around you."
"Hello," said Emma. The man, who'd been starting to stand up, looked at her and visibly started. "Where the fu-? How did you--?" He looked across the pub and then back at her, slowly sinking back into his seat. "I've heard stories that you just appear in front of people like that."
"It happens when you say my true-name three times," said Emma. "There's a bit of fuss over there." She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder.
"You can't wear that blouse now," said Red giving new meaning to the word stentorian. "You smell like an alcoholic's doxie. Take it off!"
"Oh dear God," said the man, sinking further into his seat so that he didn't have to look at what was happening across the floor. "Oh sweet blessed Mother of Heaven."
Emma shifted in her seat so he had to look at her. "There," she said. "If anyone asks now you can tell them honestly there was something in the way and you couldn't see what was happening. And since I'm being so nice to you, you can tell me what all this is about, can't you?"
"Does anyone have a jacket for this poor, skinny wench?" bellowed Red. "She's not wearing a bra under this blouse."
Morganna - ah, a frenetic escape into unknown territory... great stuff :)
Greg - oh man, I'm loving Red in this scene. Emma too, obviously, but Red is doing a fine job of stealing the spotlight. I imagine it will return to Emma and her conversation in the next installment, but I am still smiling as I type this.
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