Soujin (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
psalm_onethirtyone) wrote2005-08-13 01:40 am
psalm_onethirtyone) wrote2005-08-13 01:40 am
"What Brought You Here to Me...?"
Last post. I promise.
Manon and Nanni and I all freewrote with the LM/Westmark pairgen again. Here is my crack.
Time: half an hour
Keyword: tool. But it didn't get in.
Everything was shadowed and veiled, everything was grey, and her hands were shaking. The illness must be getting worse. She was outside. It was cold, and Torrens wasn't there.
Caroline closed her eyes tightly and realised that it wasn't merely her hands that shook, but all her body. She had not realised before how thin she'd gotten, but she could feel the bones in her wrists as she tried to steady her hands, as though that would steady everything. She had not realised how hard it had become to stand after all this time. She hoped they would let her sit.
She brushed over the hard bony parts where her fingers met her hands and the thin grey skin spread over them and slid when she moved her fingers. There was fighting going on all about her, but her fever had worsened, she thought, perhaps, because she was sweating and she thought she might fall. She wondered whether anyone would catch her. She wished they would let her sit.
Suddenly she realised that there was fighting going on all about her. She had opened her eyes. To her left, or perhaps her right--for some reason, she wasn't really able to remember--a boy had fallen on his face and a boy in uniform was stabbing a bayonet into his back over and over. She looked to the other side, to her right, or maybe it was her left--she saw the face and the burly form of a young man with an wild, joyful, vicious expression in his eyes and a curling sneer on his face. She thought for a moment she might step away from him, but she was a little afraid she would fall.
The young man suddenly made a jerking, striking movement, and she tried to steady her hands again, although it wasn't helping and she half-wondered why she was bothering to try.
"Queen Caroline!" he cried. Caroline stared at him, a little bemused. She wished he had not shouted. "Down with Cabbarus! To hell with the whole lot of them! To hell with it all! I'm loyal to my queen and no one else!" He had a huge piece of paving stone in his arms, she realised suddenly, and she thought that she really should step away, because he might hurt her. "To hell with them! Queen Caroline!" He hurled his paving stone, and it struck someone beside her. She heard a horrible catching-breath sound and felt someone fall beside her. The young man suddenly kissed her shaking thin hand, bowed his head. "I fight for any cause that's good. Last year it was for the monarchy to fall, this year it's for you--to hell with them! I'm for Queen Caroline, and nothing else!"
She tilted her head at him, cautiously, not quickly because she didn't want to overbalance herself. She thought the fever must be getting worse. He seemed to be sliding before her eyes.
"My name is Bahorel, Your Highness, I fight for anything, I've always fought. Hell! I've always thrown stones! Last year I fought with Florian, this year I'll fight for anybody who's not Cabbarus or Erzcour! Here, I'll give you my heart, but it's only tough and bloodless, like old meat from an old bull!" He kissed her hand again. "To Queen Caroline! Give me your blessing! I've killed the guard and I'd set you free, but I can't remember a damn thing about anything. That's fighting rage for you! I'll kill the next hundred men who try to touch you! To hell with Cabbarus! I'm yours!"
Suddenly he fell back, and she thought that was blood coming from his mouth, as he went on shouting, but not very loudly now.
"To Queen Caroline! To hell with Cabbarus!"
Then he stopped. She stared down at him, a little bemused. Her hands were shaking worse than they had been before. She didn't quite understand, but she wished that Torrens were there. The fever must be getting much worse... He was bleeding on the hem of her nightdress, and she began to weep, although she wasn't really sure why. Bahorel, she thought, through the greyness, and clutched her stomach, although she wasn't really sure why. He was bleeding on her feet...
That was when they let her sit. She did not stand again.
~~~
Shall I bring back birch bark or lake stones or leaves for anybody?
Manon and Nanni and I all freewrote with the LM/Westmark pairgen again. Here is my crack.
Time: half an hour
Keyword: tool. But it didn't get in.
Everything was shadowed and veiled, everything was grey, and her hands were shaking. The illness must be getting worse. She was outside. It was cold, and Torrens wasn't there.
Caroline closed her eyes tightly and realised that it wasn't merely her hands that shook, but all her body. She had not realised before how thin she'd gotten, but she could feel the bones in her wrists as she tried to steady her hands, as though that would steady everything. She had not realised how hard it had become to stand after all this time. She hoped they would let her sit.
She brushed over the hard bony parts where her fingers met her hands and the thin grey skin spread over them and slid when she moved her fingers. There was fighting going on all about her, but her fever had worsened, she thought, perhaps, because she was sweating and she thought she might fall. She wondered whether anyone would catch her. She wished they would let her sit.
Suddenly she realised that there was fighting going on all about her. She had opened her eyes. To her left, or perhaps her right--for some reason, she wasn't really able to remember--a boy had fallen on his face and a boy in uniform was stabbing a bayonet into his back over and over. She looked to the other side, to her right, or maybe it was her left--she saw the face and the burly form of a young man with an wild, joyful, vicious expression in his eyes and a curling sneer on his face. She thought for a moment she might step away from him, but she was a little afraid she would fall.
The young man suddenly made a jerking, striking movement, and she tried to steady her hands again, although it wasn't helping and she half-wondered why she was bothering to try.
"Queen Caroline!" he cried. Caroline stared at him, a little bemused. She wished he had not shouted. "Down with Cabbarus! To hell with the whole lot of them! To hell with it all! I'm loyal to my queen and no one else!" He had a huge piece of paving stone in his arms, she realised suddenly, and she thought that she really should step away, because he might hurt her. "To hell with them! Queen Caroline!" He hurled his paving stone, and it struck someone beside her. She heard a horrible catching-breath sound and felt someone fall beside her. The young man suddenly kissed her shaking thin hand, bowed his head. "I fight for any cause that's good. Last year it was for the monarchy to fall, this year it's for you--to hell with them! I'm for Queen Caroline, and nothing else!"
She tilted her head at him, cautiously, not quickly because she didn't want to overbalance herself. She thought the fever must be getting worse. He seemed to be sliding before her eyes.
"My name is Bahorel, Your Highness, I fight for anything, I've always fought. Hell! I've always thrown stones! Last year I fought with Florian, this year I'll fight for anybody who's not Cabbarus or Erzcour! Here, I'll give you my heart, but it's only tough and bloodless, like old meat from an old bull!" He kissed her hand again. "To Queen Caroline! Give me your blessing! I've killed the guard and I'd set you free, but I can't remember a damn thing about anything. That's fighting rage for you! I'll kill the next hundred men who try to touch you! To hell with Cabbarus! I'm yours!"
Suddenly he fell back, and she thought that was blood coming from his mouth, as he went on shouting, but not very loudly now.
"To Queen Caroline! To hell with Cabbarus!"
Then he stopped. She stared down at him, a little bemused. Her hands were shaking worse than they had been before. She didn't quite understand, but she wished that Torrens were there. The fever must be getting much worse... He was bleeding on the hem of her nightdress, and she began to weep, although she wasn't really sure why. Bahorel, she thought, through the greyness, and clutched her stomach, although she wasn't really sure why. He was bleeding on her feet...
That was when they let her sit. She did not stand again.
~~~
Shall I bring back birch bark or lake stones or leaves for anybody?
no subject
Oooh, lake stones! *makes pendents out of them*
no subject
We brough home quartz with mica in it!
no subject
:D *glees!*
no subject
^___^