Post by Rachy on Apr 24, 2010 21:20:27 GMT 10
Title: Halfway House
Rating: PG
Length: 1308 words.
Summary: Modern. Briar, Tris, Sandry and Daja's lives intertwine.
Author's Notes: In my head, they've each got a bit of a criminal background, as in the events in Circle Opens happens before this.
--
“I don’t understand for all the little bugs in Emelan why you brought me here.” He mutters sulkily, and his captor raises an eyebrow.
“A little thing called for your own good.”
“My own good was doing perfectly fine without your interference.” He scowls, flicking his long hair away from his eyes.
“Your own good was a ‘spit’, as you like, from landing you in juvenile detention.” He keeps an eyebrow raised, and looks solemnly at him, his black eyes windows of impeding doom, his own hair pulled tightly back in a horsetail.
“Shacking me up in reform school didn’t help.” He says quietly, just as serious, remembering the phantom feel of bruises and the sickeningly sinister glitter of a knife.
“Which is why we’re heading to Discipline.”
“Glorified halfway house. What next?”
“I’m hoping that you’ll find your place there, Briar.” His captor sighs, and looks wearied. “I’m hoping you all will, because there isn’t another option after this.”
---
Her fingers twitch to fix the seam in his frayed seam, and she wonders how a man so impudent and renowned would walk out of his hotel with his shirt like that.
“Do I have to go? I can stay here, and support myself with dressmaking. You know I’d be good at it, and Uncle Vedris won’t care so long as I’m doing something. I was managing.” She asks, pleadingly.
“It’s hardly proper.”
“Nothing I do ever is proper. Come on, Niko, please? I hate all the prestige at Berenene’s court, and Uncle’s is so surely to be the same.”
“It’s the best place for you. You’ll have a familial environment, your Uncle is close, and you know very well how high in his esteem prestige isn’t. You’re making it seem like you don’t adore him at all, and you know it will do him good to know that you aren’t by yourself.”
“I’m really going to develop a familial environment with strangers, Niko. I was in a familial environment with Berenene, and you can see how that turned out.” He looks down at her, highlighted blonde hair framing her face, her cornflower blue eyes rimmed in black, her face looking away from him, and sighs.
“It’ll work out. I’ve seen it. It won’t be like last time.”
---
“Is this really the place for me?” She moves her head, her braids clinking, and sighs.
“Do you feel that any place is right for you, now, Daja?” He looks down at her with an amused smile, and she looks away. Her right place was on the ocean, on one of her family’s trading ships.
“It’s punishment.”
“Only if you feel like you need to be punished. It’s more about”
“Reconciling me with the ideas of life? I read the pamphlet. There’s not anything for me there.”
“There’s plenty that will interest you. Plenty suited to your sort of thinking.” He smiles encouragingly, and she doesn’t respond.
“My sort of thinking was leading me to manslaughter charges, Niko.” She says quietly, hints of shame seeping through her words.
“That was in common interests with the law, though.”
“You’re a detective, or some Interpol/FBI agent. You’re supposed to condone wrongdoing, and causing a car to blow up is wrongdoing.”
“You did what you thought was right. And at the moment, that is what Discipline is turning out to be. People who did the wrong things for the right reasons.” He says firmly, and Daja returns to looking gloomily out of the window.
---
“Can I at least look at the library before we go to wherever this place is? Winding Circle is supposed to have one of the biggest libraries on this side of the Endless Sea, and I’d prefer to see that than to see the halfway house you’re dragging me too.” She looks up at him, walking quickly to keep up with his longer legs.
“You should be grateful that I’ve refused to listen to the reports that claim that you’re perfectly capable of stopping me from dragging you away with a twitch of your fingers, Trisana.”
“I can’t explain it, alright? You know I can’t, and it is hardly my fault.” Her grey eyes focus on the carpet, and he sighs.
“Though it is uncanny.” He states, a scholarly tone evident in his words.
“And so is this library. I haven’t been to a library in months, Niko. The last boarding school wouldn’t let me near one, and before that I was having all of the checks, and listening to all of the debates from all of those medical professionals.”
“You’re free to go to the library once we’ve reached Discipline. No complaints, Tris.”
“I’m not going to fit in, Niko, anywhere.” She mutters, staring out of the train window.
“And what would you define as anywhere, hmm?”
“Anywhere where people define themselves as accepted into social graces and class, and base their actions accordingly.”
“You’ll fit in perfectly at Discipline then.” He smiles, watching her as she scowls, and pushes her glasses up on her nose, gazing huffily away.
----
“This is the part where you say we’re going to be great friends, and not cause any trouble and stay out of Rosethorn’s way, and only to bother Lark if you’re desperate to the point of life or death.” The other woman raised an eyebrow, and she sighed. “Bother Lark with any trivial problem you may have and she’ll be happy to help you.”
“Thankyou, Rosie.” Lark smiles, and her golden-skinned face lights up. The other woman, Rosethorn, turns and leaves Niko chuckling at the table, and they share a glance. For a brief moment, they are united in a shared thought, of what the hell are we doing here, before the judgement begins. One is judged by her long, highlighted blonde hair, stubborn chin, and lace dress, expensively flattering her slimmer frame, the other is judged by the braids pulled away from her face, the jewellery she wears and the style of her clothes. Another is judged by her thick red curls, her loose flannel shirt and her glasses. The boy is judged differently, initially from the engraved smirk on his face, to the tattoos on his hands, and the long dark hair he shakes from his eyes.
“This is, as Rosethorn said, the part where you introduce yourselves.” Niko prompts with a wry smile.
“’M not planning on sticking around, so why should I bother ‘ducing myself to a Posh, trader and bookworm?” The boy asks, leaning further against the wall.
“It’s common courtesy, for a start.” The blonde replies, a stubborn lilt to her voice. “And I’m not Posh. I’m Sandry.” She holds out her hand with a beguiling, almost sarcastic, smile.
“I didn’t say you were Posh, I said you were a Posh. I know who you are, anyway, Lady Sandrilene.” He ignores her hand, an expression of distaste on his face. The girl with the braids takes it instead, rolling her eyes.
“I’m Daja. Daja Kisubo. I’m a trader. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Tris. And it’s better to be a bookworm than to be ignorant. Can I go now, Niko?”
“Wait until Briar introduces himself.”
“You just did it for me. Briar. Thief. That’s about it.”
“He’s a reformed thief.” Niko scowls. Briar only winks, before grabbing his bags from his feet, and dropping them in the nearest room.
“So don’t go sticking your nebs into my stash.” He called, and began to close the door. Tris walked towards the main door, and a tremor suddenly caused the cottage to tremble violently, and everyone steadied themselves as ornaments toppled and smashed. Briar poked his head out of the door, pale, and Tris gripped the wall tightly as Rosethorn walked in. Lark knelt and picked up the fragments of glass carefully.
“Looks like it’s going to be an earthquake summer.”
Rating: PG
Length: 1308 words.
Summary: Modern. Briar, Tris, Sandry and Daja's lives intertwine.
Author's Notes: In my head, they've each got a bit of a criminal background, as in the events in Circle Opens happens before this.
--
“I don’t understand for all the little bugs in Emelan why you brought me here.” He mutters sulkily, and his captor raises an eyebrow.
“A little thing called for your own good.”
“My own good was doing perfectly fine without your interference.” He scowls, flicking his long hair away from his eyes.
“Your own good was a ‘spit’, as you like, from landing you in juvenile detention.” He keeps an eyebrow raised, and looks solemnly at him, his black eyes windows of impeding doom, his own hair pulled tightly back in a horsetail.
“Shacking me up in reform school didn’t help.” He says quietly, just as serious, remembering the phantom feel of bruises and the sickeningly sinister glitter of a knife.
“Which is why we’re heading to Discipline.”
“Glorified halfway house. What next?”
“I’m hoping that you’ll find your place there, Briar.” His captor sighs, and looks wearied. “I’m hoping you all will, because there isn’t another option after this.”
---
Her fingers twitch to fix the seam in his frayed seam, and she wonders how a man so impudent and renowned would walk out of his hotel with his shirt like that.
“Do I have to go? I can stay here, and support myself with dressmaking. You know I’d be good at it, and Uncle Vedris won’t care so long as I’m doing something. I was managing.” She asks, pleadingly.
“It’s hardly proper.”
“Nothing I do ever is proper. Come on, Niko, please? I hate all the prestige at Berenene’s court, and Uncle’s is so surely to be the same.”
“It’s the best place for you. You’ll have a familial environment, your Uncle is close, and you know very well how high in his esteem prestige isn’t. You’re making it seem like you don’t adore him at all, and you know it will do him good to know that you aren’t by yourself.”
“I’m really going to develop a familial environment with strangers, Niko. I was in a familial environment with Berenene, and you can see how that turned out.” He looks down at her, highlighted blonde hair framing her face, her cornflower blue eyes rimmed in black, her face looking away from him, and sighs.
“It’ll work out. I’ve seen it. It won’t be like last time.”
---
“Is this really the place for me?” She moves her head, her braids clinking, and sighs.
“Do you feel that any place is right for you, now, Daja?” He looks down at her with an amused smile, and she looks away. Her right place was on the ocean, on one of her family’s trading ships.
“It’s punishment.”
“Only if you feel like you need to be punished. It’s more about”
“Reconciling me with the ideas of life? I read the pamphlet. There’s not anything for me there.”
“There’s plenty that will interest you. Plenty suited to your sort of thinking.” He smiles encouragingly, and she doesn’t respond.
“My sort of thinking was leading me to manslaughter charges, Niko.” She says quietly, hints of shame seeping through her words.
“That was in common interests with the law, though.”
“You’re a detective, or some Interpol/FBI agent. You’re supposed to condone wrongdoing, and causing a car to blow up is wrongdoing.”
“You did what you thought was right. And at the moment, that is what Discipline is turning out to be. People who did the wrong things for the right reasons.” He says firmly, and Daja returns to looking gloomily out of the window.
---
“Can I at least look at the library before we go to wherever this place is? Winding Circle is supposed to have one of the biggest libraries on this side of the Endless Sea, and I’d prefer to see that than to see the halfway house you’re dragging me too.” She looks up at him, walking quickly to keep up with his longer legs.
“You should be grateful that I’ve refused to listen to the reports that claim that you’re perfectly capable of stopping me from dragging you away with a twitch of your fingers, Trisana.”
“I can’t explain it, alright? You know I can’t, and it is hardly my fault.” Her grey eyes focus on the carpet, and he sighs.
“Though it is uncanny.” He states, a scholarly tone evident in his words.
“And so is this library. I haven’t been to a library in months, Niko. The last boarding school wouldn’t let me near one, and before that I was having all of the checks, and listening to all of the debates from all of those medical professionals.”
“You’re free to go to the library once we’ve reached Discipline. No complaints, Tris.”
“I’m not going to fit in, Niko, anywhere.” She mutters, staring out of the train window.
“And what would you define as anywhere, hmm?”
“Anywhere where people define themselves as accepted into social graces and class, and base their actions accordingly.”
“You’ll fit in perfectly at Discipline then.” He smiles, watching her as she scowls, and pushes her glasses up on her nose, gazing huffily away.
----
“This is the part where you say we’re going to be great friends, and not cause any trouble and stay out of Rosethorn’s way, and only to bother Lark if you’re desperate to the point of life or death.” The other woman raised an eyebrow, and she sighed. “Bother Lark with any trivial problem you may have and she’ll be happy to help you.”
“Thankyou, Rosie.” Lark smiles, and her golden-skinned face lights up. The other woman, Rosethorn, turns and leaves Niko chuckling at the table, and they share a glance. For a brief moment, they are united in a shared thought, of what the hell are we doing here, before the judgement begins. One is judged by her long, highlighted blonde hair, stubborn chin, and lace dress, expensively flattering her slimmer frame, the other is judged by the braids pulled away from her face, the jewellery she wears and the style of her clothes. Another is judged by her thick red curls, her loose flannel shirt and her glasses. The boy is judged differently, initially from the engraved smirk on his face, to the tattoos on his hands, and the long dark hair he shakes from his eyes.
“This is, as Rosethorn said, the part where you introduce yourselves.” Niko prompts with a wry smile.
“’M not planning on sticking around, so why should I bother ‘ducing myself to a Posh, trader and bookworm?” The boy asks, leaning further against the wall.
“It’s common courtesy, for a start.” The blonde replies, a stubborn lilt to her voice. “And I’m not Posh. I’m Sandry.” She holds out her hand with a beguiling, almost sarcastic, smile.
“I didn’t say you were Posh, I said you were a Posh. I know who you are, anyway, Lady Sandrilene.” He ignores her hand, an expression of distaste on his face. The girl with the braids takes it instead, rolling her eyes.
“I’m Daja. Daja Kisubo. I’m a trader. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Tris. And it’s better to be a bookworm than to be ignorant. Can I go now, Niko?”
“Wait until Briar introduces himself.”
“You just did it for me. Briar. Thief. That’s about it.”
“He’s a reformed thief.” Niko scowls. Briar only winks, before grabbing his bags from his feet, and dropping them in the nearest room.
“So don’t go sticking your nebs into my stash.” He called, and began to close the door. Tris walked towards the main door, and a tremor suddenly caused the cottage to tremble violently, and everyone steadied themselves as ornaments toppled and smashed. Briar poked his head out of the door, pale, and Tris gripped the wall tightly as Rosethorn walked in. Lark knelt and picked up the fragments of glass carefully.
“Looks like it’s going to be an earthquake summer.”