Archive | July 8, 2011

Forcing a Memory – DailyPrompt

Jul8

From [community profile] dailyprompt: “Don’t you remember how it all began?”

Unknown ‘verse

“Don’t you remember how it all began?”

“Think, Minda. There has to be something there.”

“Nothing.” She pressed her cheek to her bare knee in frustration. There was a scar there, a pencil-thin white line. She wondered what had caused it. It had to have been something pretty intense.

Now what did that mean? She looked up at the tall girl with the golden skin, who was trying so urgently to prompt her memory. “I’m sorry,” she said, for what she was pretty sure was the nineteenth or twentieth time. “Nothing.”

The girl flopped to the floor. “Nothing at all, not even a hint? Come on, Minda, this is important.”

“Not a hint, not even a name, mine or yours. Nothing. I woke up here,” she gestured at the bed, grateful that she could come up for a word for it: bed. For sleeping. And other things. Hrrm. When she’d first opened her eyes, she hadn’t even had that. “That’s all. I woke up here next to you.” Next to you. Naked, which they still both were. It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation.

“Damnit.” The golden girl slammed a fist into her thigh. “Damn, Minda, don’t you remember how it all began? There has to be something there, something…”

“How it all began…” There was the tiniest bit of something, not at the words, but at the way the girl’s fist slammed into her thigh. “Falling,” she tried. “Not falling. Being pushed. Shoved.”

“Yes?” She nodded hopefully, staring at Minda (was that really her name?) as if she could force more memories out of her by force of will.

“Falling…” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. After the landing, I’ve got nothing.”

I’ve got nothing. They took everything. She blinked up at the naked girl. “We’ve got nothing,” she tried. “They took everything, left us here. We’ve got nothing but each other.”

The hope in the girl’s eyes was too much. She couldn’t bear to tell her that, of the flickering memories coming back, her lean form and wide black eyes featured in none of them.

—Or try this flavor:

“Think, Mik. There has to be something there.”

“Nothing.” He pressed his cheek to his bare knee in frustration. There was a scar there, a pencil-thin white line. He wondered what had caused it. It had to have been something pretty intense.

Now what did that mean? He looked up at the tall boy with the golden skin, who was trying so urgently to prompt his memory. “I’m sorry,” he said, for what he was pretty sure was the nineteenth or twentieth time. “Nothing.”

The boy flopped to the floor. “Nothing at all, not even a hint? Come on, Mik, this is important.”

“Not a hint, not even a name, mine or yours. Nothing. I woke up here,” he gestured at the bed, grateful that he could come up for a word for it: bed. For sleeping. And other things. Hrrm. When he’d first opened his eyes, he hadn’t even had that. “That’s all. I woke up here next to you.” Next to you. Naked, which they still both were. It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation.

“Damnit.” The golden boy slammed a fist into his thigh. “Damn, Mik, don’t you remember how it all began? There has to be something there, something…”

“How it all began…” There was the tiniest bit of something, not at the words, but at the way the boy’s fist slammed into his thigh. “Falling,” he tried. “Not falling. Being pushed. Shoved.”

“Yes?” He nodded hopefully, staring at Mik (was that really his name?) as if he could force more memories out of his by force of will.

“Falling…” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. After the landing, I’ve got nothing.”

I’ve got nothing. They took everything. He blinked up at the naked boy. “We’ve got nothing,” he tried. “They took everything, left us here. We’ve got nothing but each other.”

The hope in the boy’s eyes was too much. He couldn’t bear to tell his that, of the flickering memories coming back, his lean form and wide black eyes featured in none of them.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/72482.html. You can comment here or there.

30daysmeme – Moving Out (Dragons Next Door @inventrix)

Jul8

Day 30 of 30 days of Fiction: “30) Write a scene saying “good bye.”

Dragons Next Door – a prelude.

Stay tuned for the next 30 days Meme!

The ogres next door were moving out.

I should have been happy, I suppose. They were loud, smelly, and messy, and their yard trash not only stank, it attracted wyverns and other strange vermin . Their son, too, tended to throw his “toys” around randomly, and I didn’t really enjoy explaining to my children why there was a rotting leg in the yard.

To say nothing about the threat to my children.

Well, let’s be fair. There’s nothing to say. The ogres would eat human meat when it came to them, hunters and criminals and the like, but they didn’t eat the neighbors and, indeed, had been known to eat the nasty sort of human predator when they spent too much time lurking around. Messy, yes, but they liked their neighborhoods friendly.

And my kids liked them, even my oldest, who was going through one of those phases children go through, where they don’t like anyone or anything. Plus, in this neighborhood, you really, really never know what’s going to move in next to you.

Suffice it to say, their leave-taking was a mixed blessing. We threw them a little party, us and the Brownies across the street. My oldest brought them a cow. I didn’t ask where the money had come from. Cattle thieves run in our family, anyway; we have the rope great-great-grandma was hanged with displayed over our mantle (it didn’t stick, which is good for her progeny). My middle child brought them a voodoo doll; she’d been learning in school. The youngest I kept home; worried about incautious footfalls.

My husband and I made a charm for them, with hopes it would smooth things in their new home. And when they were gone, we stared across the wreckage of their front lawn, wondering who would replace them.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/72243.html. You can comment here or there.

“Because he’ll eat your soul” isn’t reason enough?

Jul8

stolen from [personal profile] recessional, who stole it from [personal profile] thatyourefuse:

Give me a character’s name and I will tell you three reasons why it would be terrible to try to date them, have sex with them, or be in a long-term relationship with them.

For an extra challenge, pick characters you know I’m fond of. Anyone can tell you reasons not to date Cthulu, after all.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/71994.html. You can comment here or there.