DotCom

Never Lose Your Hat!

She woke to blue-white sunlight behind her eyelids, and enough of a headache, she immediately assumed Mama Petra had let her sleep in.

Ivy gave a contented sigh and immediately let go of her hold on semiconsciousness. Dahlia and Logan would have gone to feed the hens, then, and Rosie would be watching Briar and Lily. She could get in a few more minutes of sleep, at least. Enough to shake the pounding in her head, and the strange, pervasive weakness, making her feel lethargic before she'd even truly woken.

She started to roll over, to duck her face beneath the sheets -- they felt scratchier than normal this morning -- and stopped.

Something was touching her hand. Something furry.

Ivy let out a groan, knowing, even before she opened her eyes, Aspen had secreted away another stray puppy who'd somehow found his adorable way into her bed, and somehow, it was going to be Ivy's fault.

"Aspen," Ivy muttered as she through and arm over her eyes. "You better not have -- "

Something was wrong. Something very, very big, was very, very wrong.

Ivy opened her eyes, heart already racing, and couldn't immediately place what it was.

Oh, there were several little things. The air reeked of iron and rust. Sunlight streamed through a hole in the ceiling, revealing a room that was nothing like the bedroom she shared with her sisters back home. She felt weak, shaky, almost cold. Her head ached. Her blanket was a blanket, but an old, unfamiliar cloak.

It wasn't until her eyes fell on the Jaeger sleeping beside her that Ivy remembered.

The ÜberOven. The fire. The townsfolk chasing her away from her home. The swamp. The toads. The queen.

Ivy was shaking now, color leeching from her skin as she began to hyperventilate.

"Oh, no," she whimpered. "Oh, no, no, no, no, no..."

Flash of last night kept streaming through, overwhelming her, and yet there was nothing she could do to stop it.

The toads had found them, and they'd fought, she and Jötz, her Jaeger, her friend and savior. He'd been upset over something silly -- a hat? -- and she'd tried to make him feel better. She'd showed him a handful of gore, and...

Ivy knew then what was wrong. She knew it was real, and not a dream, and yet she couldn't look down, because there was a crippling, horrible certainty if she did that, she might go insane, and that would be bad.

She shut her eyes and flexed her left hand.

She could feel it there, couldn't she? Could feel her fingers open and close? There was no pain, no fever, no haze of delirium? And how was that possible if what she thought had happened had actually happened?

No. No, it must have been a dream, some horrible nightmare caught in a web of dark reality. Jötz had saved her life two, three times already. Why would he hurt her? He wouldn't. He hadn't.

Ivy sat there, frozen, her heart rate slowly returning to normal as she assured herself all was well. She was a Spark, sure, hunted by family and friends, lost in the wastelands that had thrice tried to kill her. But not all was lost. She felt weak from hunger, her head ached from dehydration. Not blood loss. Not fear.

She was almost smiling when at last she opened her eyes and held up her left arm for inspection, already flexing the fingers she knew would be there.

They weren't.

Ivy screamed and bucked to her feet, dropping Jötz hand like it burned.

She backed away, her arm held out as though she didn't trust it. Her eyes were wide, focused on his face.

"What did you do?" she demanded, her voice half shriek, half whimper. "What did you do to me?!?"

She stared, as if she expected an answer, feeling dizzy again, feeling her vision close in at the edges. But she refused to pass out. Not here. She had done that once before and woken sans arm.

She glared at the Jaeger, her gaze equal parts accusatory and hurt, betrayed. "Why?" she managed, and only then realized she was crying. She shook her head, furious.

"Go away! I hate you! I hate you!"

She backed away from him until she hit a wall, then briefly peered up through the hole they'd made crashing through the ground yesterday. She could get up there, she thought. She could climb out, maybe, and run away. She didn't know where she was, or how to get home, or anywhere, but her chances were better out there, alone. Mama Petra had always told her she'd been too naive for her own good. "You'd trust anything with a smile," she'd said. "Always forgetting a shark always smiles before the kill."

Mama Petra had been right. Of course she had.

Mama Petra was always right.

Saloon City -- A Rural Noir RP

Kitty had been yawning, lazily pedaling through the thinning woods when she looked up to see John Norman. She brightened at once, straightening to wave, before remembering where she was coming from. She'd spent the night in the woods with Vi -- not that Willa knew that -- watching the mash and making sure the police didn't get too close to the still. They'd been making a few busts lately, primarily under the watch of the newly instated Chief of Police...who also happened to be Willa's twin brother. The thought made Kitty scowl, though she relaxed again after running a few numbers in her head. She'd been biking for almost fifteen minutes now, putting her just within Saloon City limits again. The old still had been located within the city before Jack had betrayed them all, before Daddy had died. The new one all but toed the city-county line -- in an effort, Willa said, to keep it hidden from both.

In any case, it was unlikely John would find anything, even if he tracked her meticulously planned bike track back through the woods. Her trail had taken her back through city territory, just in case. She'd be in trouble if she ran into Jack later, but that seemed unlikely. She didn't see him much anymore if she could help it, though she'd heard from school friends he dropped by the schoolhouse almost every day to make sure she was there. It was the one thing he and Willa still had in common, aside from their looks.

She slowed her bike as she drew closer to John, knowing he'd want to talk, and more than willing to humor him if it kept him off their trail. The Normans were bad news on either side of the law, but Kitty and John had never quite fallen into the preset paths their families had carved and walked for them. Kitty chalked it up to being the youngest -- they were always farthest from the action...though it didn't escape her that John now sported a (slightly dingy) badge even as she was on her way back from her family's still.

It seemed some things were just meant to be.

Still. She considered John a friend, as much as she could. And she couldn't deny he looked handsome in his uniform, even mud-stained as it was. Vi teased her endlessly about old schoolgirl crushes on John -- and most of his brothers -- but they'd never amounted to much, and Kitty was glad to be just friends with the youngest of the Norman boys.

Or so she thought.

Now, Kitty grinned up at John atop his mount, one hand shielding her eyes from the sun, the other stifling another yawn. She grinned at him, then smirked at his appearance. Reaching out, she drew a fingertip hard down his pant leg, tracing a straight line through the caked red mud there. She held the digit up for inspection, one brow raised imperiously.

What happened to you?

Never Lose Your Hat!

Hello! Quite enjoyed your last post, thanks for that. =) Just a brief message to see whether you've been paying attention, because I certainly dropped the ball in that department -- I estimate it's been about 36-48 hours since Jötz and Ivy met, yes? That last scene would have concluded around dawn of the following day? Of course, there's plenty of wiggle room here, so if you'd rather it'd been a week and it's high noon, just say the word.

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Short-ish post. Heroes, I'm going to send you a PM, and maybe we could do a brief collab on the next part if you have time. =)

Juxy -- enjoy your vacation!

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

She was too late.

Of. Fucking. Course she was too late, because for once, she'd decided to try and make a goddamned friend, so everything, the entire fucking universe was going to conspire against her and make sure that one person who'd been unlucky enough to say a single worthwhile thing to the teenage Reaper, ever, in whatever the hell was left of her fucked up life, would be sure to come out on the other side of things hating her.

Daisy had been too late to save Thad, too late to get him back. And now? Now she was too late to save Veti. Because try as she might, she liked Veti. A lot. And of course she couldn't win. So, Veti had to die.

Of course. Of. Fucking. Course.

If Daisy had been the type to cry, or do something equally pointless and stupid, she might have. As it were, she wasn't even sure she could cry, let alone do anything normal people were supposed to do. Blush or burn or laugh or love, that other useless bullshit everyone was always going on about. She felt another inexplicable surge of loathing toward the wight as she stood there at the far edge of the scene, maybe dripping wet, from the rain, or the Thames, or Death or something else. She couldn't look at him. She was afraid she might try and hurt him, and this was obviously not the time, but then she couldn't look at Veti, either, or to where Thad knelt over her, mourning her slow and painful death.

So, she watched the shade gate, every part of her itching to follow Veti's killer through, except Tiny Vamp had already done that.

Because of course she had. Tiny Vamp had been on time. Tiny Vamp had been right, had been fucking perfect, and still it wasn't enough to...

Behind her, Artie was growling, deep and low in his chest. She could feel him pressed up against her shoulder, still three times larger than any dog should be. She felt anger and concern rolling off of him like water, but she ignored it. She wouldn't look back at him, either. She didn't care what he was trying to tell her. She wouldn't want to hear it. Probably something stupid. Some correction, how she should have been faster, how she should have stayed away from those fucking exploding werewolves -- or maybe just all werewolves -- in the first place, and then Veti might have been okay. How she should stay here, not go through the shade gate, vengeance wouldn't solve shit, and blah blah blah, all good, useless advice, because what did it matter?

She'd hesitated, just a second. And Veti had died. She hadn't seen it, no. She couldn't watch that, not again. But she'd felt it. She'd gotten close seen Veti step up to the shade gate -- seen the other wolf, seen the silver blade, looked away...

And felt a life snuff out.

From there, Daisy didn't even think. She was exhausted from the Reaping on the Thames, so cold she might have sworn her teeth were chattering, if she were alive. But she didn't care. Fuck if Veti was dead, Daisy was already breaking all the rules, anyway.

She stepped back through into Death's chill waters just as Artie realized what she was doing and snapped at her. His teeth closed around a column of cold air.

Daisy was gone.

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

I got no such crumb, so I shall post later. I hope I'm not holding anything up. And since Siya's already gone through the gate (I did THE MOST giggling at your post, LT), I think I'll send Daisy after Aislinn, if that's alright, Heroes?

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

^Yeah, she's good at that. =)

Great post, by the way, tirgey.

Heroes, what happens if we go through the gates? I'm working on my post and thinking Daisy much prefers actions to words. She'll go through the gates after Zakhar if she can, and if she can't, she'll offer to walk Aislinn over. Or...y'know, her soul. Do you have a preference, Mr. GM?

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Oh, I didn't mean to make everyone sad, too. I'm just mopey because it's the end of my vacation. *melodramatic swoon*

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

But seriously, I cannot even tell you how difficult it is writing this post. =| Because I dropped off my little brother at the airport, and I've been watching news reports and Ms. Angelou all day today and now I'm just sad.

*lays facedown on carpet*

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

=( Feelings are the worst.

I can't even reply to this now. I NEED TO WALLOW IN CHILLED WINE and shorts, and then I'll be back.