Friday, June 24, 2005
"Ari? Margrave, you down here?" The shisper came just under teh sound of running water and who-knew-what trickling through the rusted pipes beneath Paragon City. Miranda put a hand over her mouth and tried not to gag. If the crazies running around the sewers didn't kill her, the stench probably would. She'd run out to Crey's Folly once to help Hardy in a tight spot; anything that ran water out of that toxic swamp couldn't be healthy.
To top it all, Margrave had gone missing. Miranda muttered the too-familiar incantation to make her a little less obvious and ducked under a broken pipe. 'Damn that girl,' she thought. When Hardy and Lukas had brought Ari to her, Miranda had agreed to give her a place to stay and a few meals to keep her bones from poking through her skin. She'd given the fifteen year old space, not asking toomanuy questions for the first few days. Hardy had let it slip one night ithat it had been Lukas who'd found her, a victim of a Hellion 'initiation' party who'd tried to mkae a run for it. Miranda was female, locla, and had a coucnh that was just comfy enough for a few nights' sleep. As far as the senior members of the Aegis Protectorate were concerned, Moriyaku could play den mother to the poor lost lamb.
As far as Miranda was concerned, she wasn't cut out to babysit some teenager who didn't want to be watched... or found. Her comm was hooked to her jeans, the scratched plastic box silent in the sewers. If she managed to find the surly little brat, Miranda swore that she would surgically attach a spare comm to her scrawny little arm. 'Maybe even a GPS chip,' she mused silently. 'Then I wouldn't be out here because someone's breaking curfew.'
She hadn't seen the boys for a week. Sure, they kept in touch, but they'd taken to working leads out in Founder's Falls. Old Man Proctor's business had become a cover for more research into Crey Industries, a high tech assault from an entreprenurial standpoint. If the guys weren't chasing down leads on the street, they were getting paid to engineer software and hack security protocols.
While they were holed up in some millionaire's office, she was hunting for a runaway in the sewer. Miranda turned a corner, taning the time to chalk a pink X on the wall for her journey back. The cavern widened, the tunnel sloping down into the inconstantly lit darkness. From where she stood, she could see a handful of ragtag figures sporting the punk-dumpster fashions of the Lost. Hoping to remain unseen, she crept along the sides fo the tunner, the cool slime of the walls wiped wet-slick along her arms and exposed torso.
To top it all, Margrave had gone missing. Miranda muttered the too-familiar incantation to make her a little less obvious and ducked under a broken pipe. 'Damn that girl,' she thought. When Hardy and Lukas had brought Ari to her, Miranda had agreed to give her a place to stay and a few meals to keep her bones from poking through her skin. She'd given the fifteen year old space, not asking toomanuy questions for the first few days. Hardy had let it slip one night ithat it had been Lukas who'd found her, a victim of a Hellion 'initiation' party who'd tried to mkae a run for it. Miranda was female, locla, and had a coucnh that was just comfy enough for a few nights' sleep. As far as the senior members of the Aegis Protectorate were concerned, Moriyaku could play den mother to the poor lost lamb.
As far as Miranda was concerned, she wasn't cut out to babysit some teenager who didn't want to be watched... or found. Her comm was hooked to her jeans, the scratched plastic box silent in the sewers. If she managed to find the surly little brat, Miranda swore that she would surgically attach a spare comm to her scrawny little arm. 'Maybe even a GPS chip,' she mused silently. 'Then I wouldn't be out here because someone's breaking curfew.'
She hadn't seen the boys for a week. Sure, they kept in touch, but they'd taken to working leads out in Founder's Falls. Old Man Proctor's business had become a cover for more research into Crey Industries, a high tech assault from an entreprenurial standpoint. If the guys weren't chasing down leads on the street, they were getting paid to engineer software and hack security protocols.
While they were holed up in some millionaire's office, she was hunting for a runaway in the sewer. Miranda turned a corner, taning the time to chalk a pink X on the wall for her journey back. The cavern widened, the tunnel sloping down into the inconstantly lit darkness. From where she stood, she could see a handful of ragtag figures sporting the punk-dumpster fashions of the Lost. Hoping to remain unseen, she crept along the sides fo the tunner, the cool slime of the walls wiped wet-slick along her arms and exposed torso.
Thursday, June 23, 2005
Congratulations Are In Order
For Angels Never Came Down
(Thanks to Angie for the use of Rahab)
The expression in the polished glassed belonged to someone far older than a young amanuensis two months removed from active duty. As her stomach churned and rolled for the third time that morning, Leliel turned away from the mirror and vomited gracelessly into the washbasin. This routine had persisted for ten days, from sunrise until midmorning. In the evening, a lesser form of the nausea returned, long enough to make any thought of food turn her stomach. Leli spat, wiped her mouth with a wet cloth, and set about to cleaning up.
To visit Sandalphon would be both ridiculous and redundant, considering the obviousness of the situation. Any fool acquainted with symptoms and able to keep track of one’s own physical processes could come to the appropriate conclusion. With the end of her obligatory tour had come heartfelt congratulations and impromptu celebrations. Polite well-wishers had wondered why she would prefer a desk and papers for the glory and excitement of the outdoors, with comrades and superiors promising to have a good word for her should she want to return. After all of the verbal pleasantries, Leli had managed to slip away to find familiar conversation with a friend, familiar gestures one last time before she left the soldier’s life for good.
Leli rinsed out the earthenware bowl and turned it upside down to dry on a ledge. The cloth was wrung out and laid next to it, pitcher replaced on the table under the mirror. Hands damp from washing smoothed over her face, the coolness welcome. The wave of nausea ebbed, giving her the opportunity to slip into clean clothing. Simply dressed, she set out in the day’s only errand.
Leliel walked barefoot, the ground warm between her toes. She could tell the others once the worst of the sickness had finished. Her own father couldn’t be trusted to leave her alone, not with the prospect of a grandchild. Meriarijim would crow with paternal pride and immediately smother her with an embarrassing display of attention. Others in the Keep overly obsessed with procreation couldn’t be trusted to give her adequate space or spare her the unnecessary advice and unwanted litanies about motherhood.
She paused, swallowing back another episode and leaning against a low stone wall. The prospect of motherhood was hardly unwanted or unappreciated. Leli couldn’t deny the rush of excitement that had come with the first few mornings. In a way, she had left one enlistment for another. She absently brushed her still-unrounded belly. No shame, no regret. Privacy, though. The Angel of the Night felt the need to hold such a change close for as long as possible.
Selfish, perhaps? She continued her walk, the path so familiar whether by daylight or starlight. Not so selfish that she would keep the news from the other one who’d hand a hand in the blessed deed, she reasoned. Fingers tapped at the door, her expression pleasant and cool as her ‘accomplice’ appeared.
“Congratulations,” she offered in greeting, her tone sweet but efficient. “May I come in, or are you busy?”
Rahab grinned down at her, any confusion by her choice of words well-masked. “Not too busy for you, pet. C’mon in.” He waited until she’d taken a seat, her ankles primly crossed and hands folded in her lap. “What was that congratulations for, by the way?”
“I’m pregnant.”
Rahab’s expression shifted from rakish charm to slow disbelief, the corners of his mouth turning up and down as if he couldn’t decide upon the proper position of smile that would best fit the situation. “Really,” he finally managed, playful intrigue in his voice.
“And I would think that you would feel a certain sense of accomplishment with such things,” she added.
“Me? Why?”
Leliel blinked and leaned forward, as if she felt the need to further explain things to a man at least fifteen years her senior. “As I understand, there is a certain degree of success here with the ability to bring new life into this world.” She nodded once before sitting back, an airy wave of her hand accompanying the next words. “A fulfillment of sorts.”
The other angel threw his head back and laughed, shaking his head. “Then the congrats is to you, pet. None to me.” Chuckling, he reached out and patted her knee fondly. “Although, you probably ought to know that I’m pretty sure I’ve done this new-life thing a few times. Probably,” he added after a moment’s consideration.
“Probably is not assuredly,” she noted.
He shrugged. “Raz an’ me, we don’t bother checking until tykes with our eyes show up.”
Leliel nodded sagely, as if his reasoning had made perfect sense. “Then I have merely saved you the questioning process eight months from now,” she offered. She paused, giving the soldier a critical once-over before speaking again. “Although, I think I would prefer your hair coloring.”
Rahab answered with an amused smirk. “Yeah?”
“For a girl? Yes.”
“So you’re partial to girls, eh?”
“Perhaps,” she admitted with a shy and un-Leliel dimple to her cheek. “And you?”
“Me?”
She blinked at him. Were all potential fathers this uninvolved? “Yes, you. While I would hardly expect you to break tradition and offer to raise her, I would think that you would have at least some degree of opinion.”
He shook his head, leaning back in his chair and draping a hand over the back of it. “Not really, no.” Fingers mussed his blond hair as he waxed his own flavor of philosophy. “You have what you have, that’s it. Wanting a boy or girl more don’t make a difference.”
Leliel nodded thoughtfully, standing up. “In any case, I feel that you are owed as much congratulations as I am.” Bending at the waist, she bestowed a chaste kiss on a still-unshaven cheek. Rahab allowed the innocent gesture for a few seconds before turning his head to return the favor in a decidedly more appreciative form of a kiss. She reveled in it for a long moment before pulling back. “And now, I believe I am going to go and rest. If everything that I’ve read is true, I will be spending the next ten weeks nauseous and ill-tempered.”
He patted her gently on the cheek and laughed. “That mean you’ll gut me if I don’t visit?”
“No.” She placed a hand on the back of his chair, finger-combing his hair as she spoke. “It simply means that if I fail to answer the door, it is most likely due to the occasion of my head in a bucket.”
“Adorable,” he grinned. “I’ll see if Isda has muffins or something before I come over then. Like a peace offering,” Rahab joked.
“Peace?” She deliberately tapped her knuckle against his head, hard enough to make him wince. “I take it then that you have been blamed for such things in the past?”
“Never actually,” he replied, tilting his head back to smile up at her. “But you know me, Lel,” he offered roguishly. “Everyone seems to have it in for poor me.”
“Everyone minus one,” she laughed, patting him on the cheek. Leliel opened her mouth to say something else, but her complexion paled before she could manage another word. One hand pressed to her lips, sweat on her face as she stepped back. “Excuse me, but I think I-“
He waved her off towards the basin. “Go on, pet. I won’t hold it against you.”
