Ficpost II
Feb. 6th, 2019 12:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
little_lady_dThings I wrote in January of 2019:
Three sentence fic for the Three Sentence Ficathon!
The two had nothing but time to kill, so Rosencrantz tried to entertain Guildenstern with coin tricks. "Now you see me," he said, as he walked the coin down his fingers, and Guildenstern watched but he didn't see the coin disappear, he saw a ship sink sun-like over the horizon, saw a noose unravel in a clear blue sky -- "now you --"
"Don't," Guildenstern said, and he seized Rosencrantz's hand.
—
In zailor's tales, there was always one more horizon, the Mountain of Light looming in the South, the long stretch of possibility spanning from Irem to Kingeater's in the East, and the dark beyond dark that brooded in the North, no brighter for all the candles in the Chapel.
The last horizon was the horizon that brought you home. Back to London, back to dockside crowds spilling over in life and laughter, back to the love you've kept in your locket and carried to every horizon since.
—
One day you learn it was all made-up, the Flit-runner's pilgrimage, the glim-starred shrine, the mushroom milk on the tongue and the Word you offer the Wind. One urchin tells the story to another, and another tells the next, and each time it grows in the telling -- because every urchin has something they'd wish for, if wishes were free for the taking, and every urchin knows what makes something free is if you're quick and you're clever enough to take it.
So you stand in the Flit, no one but the Wind to hear, and you understand: there's something here that feeds on stories, and it's up to you and your lot to make them up, to lie and cheat and steal a world where an urchin's wish comes true.
—
If you could, you'd make a deal with Mihir -- keep the light of the sun, you'd say, and give me to darkness, let me swap lives with shadowed strangers who bear stories and scintillack across the zee, let me be accursed, let me be apostate, let me be anything I am not, and free me from the tyranny of truth!
But Mihir doesn't see down here. So: you make another deal instead.
—
2000 words of Tous Les Chats! Which is not very many, but I posted another chapter and unlocked the first one in the archive, in case anyone's curious. If you want to access more of the archive, let me know!
Three sentence fic for the Three Sentence Ficathon!
The two had nothing but time to kill, so Rosencrantz tried to entertain Guildenstern with coin tricks. "Now you see me," he said, as he walked the coin down his fingers, and Guildenstern watched but he didn't see the coin disappear, he saw a ship sink sun-like over the horizon, saw a noose unravel in a clear blue sky -- "now you --"
"Don't," Guildenstern said, and he seized Rosencrantz's hand.
—
In zailor's tales, there was always one more horizon, the Mountain of Light looming in the South, the long stretch of possibility spanning from Irem to Kingeater's in the East, and the dark beyond dark that brooded in the North, no brighter for all the candles in the Chapel.
The last horizon was the horizon that brought you home. Back to London, back to dockside crowds spilling over in life and laughter, back to the love you've kept in your locket and carried to every horizon since.
—
One day you learn it was all made-up, the Flit-runner's pilgrimage, the glim-starred shrine, the mushroom milk on the tongue and the Word you offer the Wind. One urchin tells the story to another, and another tells the next, and each time it grows in the telling -- because every urchin has something they'd wish for, if wishes were free for the taking, and every urchin knows what makes something free is if you're quick and you're clever enough to take it.
So you stand in the Flit, no one but the Wind to hear, and you understand: there's something here that feeds on stories, and it's up to you and your lot to make them up, to lie and cheat and steal a world where an urchin's wish comes true.
—
If you could, you'd make a deal with Mihir -- keep the light of the sun, you'd say, and give me to darkness, let me swap lives with shadowed strangers who bear stories and scintillack across the zee, let me be accursed, let me be apostate, let me be anything I am not, and free me from the tyranny of truth!
But Mihir doesn't see down here. So: you make another deal instead.
—
2000 words of Tous Les Chats! Which is not very many, but I posted another chapter and unlocked the first one in the archive, in case anyone's curious. If you want to access more of the archive, let me know!
(no subject)
Date: 2019-02-07 04:21 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2019-02-08 04:10 am (UTC)i started playing sunless skies and i. want to write about my captain. (conductor? captain.)
(no subject)
Date: 2019-02-09 06:17 pm (UTC)I’ve only just acquired Sunless Skies, and it’s super slow on my crummy old laptop, but I already love it.