Post by Kris11 on Aug 10, 2012 0:38:36 GMT 10
Title: Misplaced Bets
Rating: G
Team: Emelan
Prompt: breaking records
Word count: 333
Summary: When Tris walked into Crane's greenhouse to act as his assistant, the vast majority of the bets had her out on her ear within the day.
Most of the bets were set for the same day. He was in a foul mood, as far as Crane’s moodiness went and no one expected the young red-head scribe to last longer than it took him to give her one scathing look.
Then she walked in, adjusted her spectacles, and sat down to work. The few willing to give her a chance, either because they had heard of her or through some lucky guess, collected their money outside the greenhouse that day.
When Niklaren tried to take her out, Crane fought for her, leaving those who heard that particular story either dumb-founded or utterly disbelieving. Even those who had already won money hadn’t given her more than a week before Crane tired of her, but she stayed until the very end of the plague.
Afterward, she was a regular installation in the greenhouse. She stood apart from the others, dedicates and novices both, who worked there – as much through her own temper as through theirs. Crane’s students lasted longer than his plague-time assistants, but not by much. One mistake in his domain was enough to get oneself thrown out. Everybody walked on eggshells... everyone but her. The longest he had put up with an assistant had, previously, been two months. She shattered the record, and it meant the others held her in a sort of awe. It was enough to set her apart. She honestly didn’t seem to notice.
Years passed, and the chubby ten year old grew into herself, and she still came to work with Crane. There was no camaraderie between them (that would have been too much for Crane’s people to understand), but when interrupted, they gave the offending party the exact same look, which was enough to scare anyone away. Their silences were efficient; his lectures understood immediately; her questions welcome.
The bets had given Trisana Chandler less than a day before Crane threw her out of his life. Four years later, she walked out of Winding Circle with Goldeye to travel the world.
Her desk sat, untouched in Crane’s corner of his greenhouse, waiting for her return.
Rating: G
Team: Emelan
Prompt: breaking records
Word count: 333
Summary: When Tris walked into Crane's greenhouse to act as his assistant, the vast majority of the bets had her out on her ear within the day.
Most of the bets were set for the same day. He was in a foul mood, as far as Crane’s moodiness went and no one expected the young red-head scribe to last longer than it took him to give her one scathing look.
Then she walked in, adjusted her spectacles, and sat down to work. The few willing to give her a chance, either because they had heard of her or through some lucky guess, collected their money outside the greenhouse that day.
When Niklaren tried to take her out, Crane fought for her, leaving those who heard that particular story either dumb-founded or utterly disbelieving. Even those who had already won money hadn’t given her more than a week before Crane tired of her, but she stayed until the very end of the plague.
Afterward, she was a regular installation in the greenhouse. She stood apart from the others, dedicates and novices both, who worked there – as much through her own temper as through theirs. Crane’s students lasted longer than his plague-time assistants, but not by much. One mistake in his domain was enough to get oneself thrown out. Everybody walked on eggshells... everyone but her. The longest he had put up with an assistant had, previously, been two months. She shattered the record, and it meant the others held her in a sort of awe. It was enough to set her apart. She honestly didn’t seem to notice.
Years passed, and the chubby ten year old grew into herself, and she still came to work with Crane. There was no camaraderie between them (that would have been too much for Crane’s people to understand), but when interrupted, they gave the offending party the exact same look, which was enough to scare anyone away. Their silences were efficient; his lectures understood immediately; her questions welcome.
The bets had given Trisana Chandler less than a day before Crane threw her out of his life. Four years later, she walked out of Winding Circle with Goldeye to travel the world.
Her desk sat, untouched in Crane’s corner of his greenhouse, waiting for her return.