“I think this qualifies as a test in humiliation,” Rastaban said.
Dakshana stood in the wings of the stage, arms crossed over her chest. “This will prove your ultimate dedication to the cause, won’t it?”
“And what, exactly, did you have to do to prove yourself?” Rastaban asked.
Dakshana’s eyes were opaque, although the corners of her mouth were curved up in the faintest traces of amusement. “It might have involved kissing you.”
Rastaban, who’d been frowning down at the ridiculousness of his performance costume, lifted his head sharply. “What? I couldn’t have been that horrible a kisser -”
Dakshana reached up and straightened his headdress. “Do you know who I was before I dealt with you?” She leaned in and whispered, her breath against his ear sending shivers down his spine. “I was a queen and a goddess, a mother and a daughter, a wife and a sister, a priestess and a whore. I was everything a woman could be and had been, and it was all my choice. And then you came along - this bumbling, blustering, arrogant strip of a boy who fancied himself man enough to lead an army. And I had to pretend you were worth kissing.”
Icy shock shot down Rastaban’s spine. He sucked in a deep breath. “Dakshana -”
“Or maybe what I had to do is none of your business and you’ll never know and given how easy it is to yank your chain, maybe you don’t deserve to earn field command.” Dakshana shoved him toward the makeshift curtain. “Now get out there and dance.”
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Friday, December 18, 2009
Just a Bit Pathetic
“Are you scared?” James asked.
Tobias lifted his head, straightened his crown of oak leaves absently. “Why would I be scared?”
“Our entire semester rides on this one performance.” James tugged impatiently at his sword-belt. “I still look like an idiot with a sword at my side. How did anyone back then get around without banging into everything?”
Tobias reached out and used the loose end of James’s belt to hitch the sword up to a neater angle. “There. Now you won’t accidentally kneecap your lovely Hermia.”
James blinked. He tugged at the sword hilt experimentally, then grinned at his roommate. “You’re full of random useful skills. Thanks.”
“Yes, well, even though I’m not afraid, I don’t want to fail this class either.” He straightened his green tunic. “It’d be pathetic if I failed my Shakespeare course at a British drama academy, wouldn’t it?”
“Just a bit pathetic,” James agreed. “Is your family coming to watch?”
“No,” Tobias said. “Uncle Angel is on business, DJ’s on the runways in Paris or something stupid. Everyone else has jobs and things - I’m the only idiot who’s still in school.”
James slung an arm around his shoulders. “Well, my parents are here, and I’m sure my mum would love to coo over how pale and underfed you look.”
Tobias laughed but, for the first time, didn’t shrug him off. “I’m only underfed because you keep stealing my food.”
One of the directors came over and hissed at them, “Curtain in three. Take your marks.”
“Good luck, Puck,” James said, and started for the wings.
Tobias grinned. “Break a leg, Lysander.”
Beyond the curtain, the audience went quiet.
(275 words)
Tobias lifted his head, straightened his crown of oak leaves absently. “Why would I be scared?”
“Our entire semester rides on this one performance.” James tugged impatiently at his sword-belt. “I still look like an idiot with a sword at my side. How did anyone back then get around without banging into everything?”
Tobias reached out and used the loose end of James’s belt to hitch the sword up to a neater angle. “There. Now you won’t accidentally kneecap your lovely Hermia.”
James blinked. He tugged at the sword hilt experimentally, then grinned at his roommate. “You’re full of random useful skills. Thanks.”
“Yes, well, even though I’m not afraid, I don’t want to fail this class either.” He straightened his green tunic. “It’d be pathetic if I failed my Shakespeare course at a British drama academy, wouldn’t it?”
“Just a bit pathetic,” James agreed. “Is your family coming to watch?”
“No,” Tobias said. “Uncle Angel is on business, DJ’s on the runways in Paris or something stupid. Everyone else has jobs and things - I’m the only idiot who’s still in school.”
James slung an arm around his shoulders. “Well, my parents are here, and I’m sure my mum would love to coo over how pale and underfed you look.”
Tobias laughed but, for the first time, didn’t shrug him off. “I’m only underfed because you keep stealing my food.”
One of the directors came over and hissed at them, “Curtain in three. Take your marks.”
“Good luck, Puck,” James said, and started for the wings.
Tobias grinned. “Break a leg, Lysander.”
Beyond the curtain, the audience went quiet.
(275 words)
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Successful Replacement
“This is it, your big test. If you make it through tonight, you’re ready,” Chase said.
Jade nodded, wiped his clammy hands on his palms. “Okay. But I think Chris is getting a little...suspicious. He keeps looking at me funny, and I think I’ve been missing out on some of his inside jokes.”
“Look, just nail the performance tonight. Chris gets on edge because he’s Chris. And...he feels guilty. For making Justin fall down the stairs.” Chase smiled gently, smoothed a hand over Jade’s curls.
Jade scowled and knocked his hand aside. “I’m not a poodle. Don’t pet me.”
Something unreadable flickered in Chase’s eyes, but he let his hand fall to his side. “Oui. Je suis desolé.”
“Sorry,” Jade said. He knew it was bad when Chase kicked back into French. “I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just - nervous.”
Joe chose that moment to poke his head into the dressing room. “C’mon, Mouseketeers, we gotta show Germany how we rock it.”
Jade bounced to his feet and gave Joe a high-five. “All right. Let’s rock this joint!”
And rock the joint they did. Jade knew he hit every mark like clockwork, that every smile and every wink for the girls in the front row was perfect, because after the last encore the curtain fell and Chris swooped him into a hug and gave him a noogie.
The affection in Chris’s eyes was genuine for the first time in the three weeks Jade had been living with them, and the jubilation of success was tainted with the guilt of dishonesty. Jade had finally replaced Justin, and no one would ever be the wiser.
(276 words)
Jade nodded, wiped his clammy hands on his palms. “Okay. But I think Chris is getting a little...suspicious. He keeps looking at me funny, and I think I’ve been missing out on some of his inside jokes.”
“Look, just nail the performance tonight. Chris gets on edge because he’s Chris. And...he feels guilty. For making Justin fall down the stairs.” Chase smiled gently, smoothed a hand over Jade’s curls.
Jade scowled and knocked his hand aside. “I’m not a poodle. Don’t pet me.”
Something unreadable flickered in Chase’s eyes, but he let his hand fall to his side. “Oui. Je suis desolé.”
“Sorry,” Jade said. He knew it was bad when Chase kicked back into French. “I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just - nervous.”
Joe chose that moment to poke his head into the dressing room. “C’mon, Mouseketeers, we gotta show Germany how we rock it.”
Jade bounced to his feet and gave Joe a high-five. “All right. Let’s rock this joint!”
And rock the joint they did. Jade knew he hit every mark like clockwork, that every smile and every wink for the girls in the front row was perfect, because after the last encore the curtain fell and Chris swooped him into a hug and gave him a noogie.
The affection in Chris’s eyes was genuine for the first time in the three weeks Jade had been living with them, and the jubilation of success was tainted with the guilt of dishonesty. Jade had finally replaced Justin, and no one would ever be the wiser.
(276 words)
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
His Last Test
“You think you have what it takes to be a field handler?” The Colonel asked.
John inclined his head deferentially. “Yes sir.”
The Colonel shoved a manila folder at him. “Then prove it. Go get yourself a field agent.”
John opened the file and scanned the specs - an orphanage in Iran. No one would notice a girl go missing; girls were second-class commodities there. He closed the file and nodded, saluted once, then waited till he was dismissed.
John was never one to procrastinate, so he booked a flight as soon as he got back to his bunk in the barracks. He spent the entire flight over finagling out the details - forging passports and birth certificates, drafting an entire history for a non-existent child. As soon as John had made it out of basic and been shuttled into officer training, he’d learned about what was keeping the brass on its toes, the mysterious conundrum of The Carrier. He hadn’t wanted anything to do with it.
Apparently, his last test to prove his fitness as a field officer, was to throw himself in the middle of it.
The orphanage was on the poorer side of town. He’d considered trying to blend in as a local, but the sad truth was that no one would think twice of a foreign man purchasing a local child.
John spent seventy-two hours observing the children who shuffled in and out of the ramshackle building before he found a suitable one. The orphanage matrons called her Kalila. She couldn’t have been more than three years old, but John saw fierce intelligence in her bright green eyes. None of the matrons thought it at all significant that little Kalila could read.
John took another two hours to finish forging out his documents for his new daughter - Carolyn - and then he made his move.
Two days later he was a ranked field officer, and he was a father.
(323 words)
John inclined his head deferentially. “Yes sir.”
The Colonel shoved a manila folder at him. “Then prove it. Go get yourself a field agent.”
John opened the file and scanned the specs - an orphanage in Iran. No one would notice a girl go missing; girls were second-class commodities there. He closed the file and nodded, saluted once, then waited till he was dismissed.
John was never one to procrastinate, so he booked a flight as soon as he got back to his bunk in the barracks. He spent the entire flight over finagling out the details - forging passports and birth certificates, drafting an entire history for a non-existent child. As soon as John had made it out of basic and been shuttled into officer training, he’d learned about what was keeping the brass on its toes, the mysterious conundrum of The Carrier. He hadn’t wanted anything to do with it.
Apparently, his last test to prove his fitness as a field officer, was to throw himself in the middle of it.
The orphanage was on the poorer side of town. He’d considered trying to blend in as a local, but the sad truth was that no one would think twice of a foreign man purchasing a local child.
John spent seventy-two hours observing the children who shuffled in and out of the ramshackle building before he found a suitable one. The orphanage matrons called her Kalila. She couldn’t have been more than three years old, but John saw fierce intelligence in her bright green eyes. None of the matrons thought it at all significant that little Kalila could read.
John took another two hours to finish forging out his documents for his new daughter - Carolyn - and then he made his move.
Two days later he was a ranked field officer, and he was a father.
(323 words)
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Exactly the Same
I don't know how the two of you did it!" Mrs. Marsh said in exasperation. "Both of you got the exact same score, and the exact questions wrong, but you were both sitting on opposite ends of the room. How did you do it?"
Mark and Bryan looked at each other and then back at their calculus teacher, "well, we are twins," Bryan said, but swallowed the rest of his statement when she shot his a glare.
"Mrs. Marsh," Mark spoke up softly, "the most simple answer is that we study together, so what one of us know, the other also knows. We drill and drill, if we didn't get it right it's because we didn't study that hard enough. Simple as that," Mark finished just as softly as he had started.
Mrs. Marsh looked from Bryan's smiling face to Mark's quietly composed face, shrugged and shooed them out the door.
Mark and Bryan looked at each other and then back at their calculus teacher, "well, we are twins," Bryan said, but swallowed the rest of his statement when she shot his a glare.
"Mrs. Marsh," Mark spoke up softly, "the most simple answer is that we study together, so what one of us know, the other also knows. We drill and drill, if we didn't get it right it's because we didn't study that hard enough. Simple as that," Mark finished just as softly as he had started.
Mrs. Marsh looked from Bryan's smiling face to Mark's quietly composed face, shrugged and shooed them out the door.
Under Pressure
“You ready for these?” Kyle asked.
Bob blinked and looked up from his notes. “Pardon?”
Kyle twirled his pen; it was a nervous gesture, one Bob had seen him perform many times before, usually when he was talking to that girl Mary. “The exams. You know? I’m kinda scared. All the pressure.”
“Oh.” The exams. Pressure. College. Bob supposed he should have been frightened, but he wasn’t really planning on going to college. He didn’t think it would be socially appropriate, as Carolyn always put it, to inform Kyle that he had the money to go to college three times over without going into even a smidgeon of debt. “I guess the pressure is, er, bad.” For him, pressure was not screwing up a gig at an award show on national television.
Kyle arched one eyebrow. “You don’t seem that nervous.” He craned his neck to peer at Bob’s notes. “You must have studied pretty hard, then, huh?”
“I studied as hard as I could,” Bob said.
Mary paused by Bob’s desk. “Ready for this, rock star?”
Bob hated it when people called him that. “As ready as I can be.”
A sour expression marred Kyle’s nervous grin. “Right. I forgot who you are. After performing in front of thousands of screaming fans, a little test is probably nothing for you.”
“Depends on the type of test,” Bob said. He remembered sitting in the doctor’s office, waiting for the test results after his last round of chemotherapy.
The teacher burst into the room. “Take your seats. Test begins in ten minutes.”
Bob didn’t have the heart to tell his classmates that he could do music theory in his sleep. After all, he’d been writing songs since he was five.
(289 words)
Bob blinked and looked up from his notes. “Pardon?”
Kyle twirled his pen; it was a nervous gesture, one Bob had seen him perform many times before, usually when he was talking to that girl Mary. “The exams. You know? I’m kinda scared. All the pressure.”
“Oh.” The exams. Pressure. College. Bob supposed he should have been frightened, but he wasn’t really planning on going to college. He didn’t think it would be socially appropriate, as Carolyn always put it, to inform Kyle that he had the money to go to college three times over without going into even a smidgeon of debt. “I guess the pressure is, er, bad.” For him, pressure was not screwing up a gig at an award show on national television.
Kyle arched one eyebrow. “You don’t seem that nervous.” He craned his neck to peer at Bob’s notes. “You must have studied pretty hard, then, huh?”
“I studied as hard as I could,” Bob said.
Mary paused by Bob’s desk. “Ready for this, rock star?”
Bob hated it when people called him that. “As ready as I can be.”
A sour expression marred Kyle’s nervous grin. “Right. I forgot who you are. After performing in front of thousands of screaming fans, a little test is probably nothing for you.”
“Depends on the type of test,” Bob said. He remembered sitting in the doctor’s office, waiting for the test results after his last round of chemotherapy.
The teacher burst into the room. “Take your seats. Test begins in ten minutes.”
Bob didn’t have the heart to tell his classmates that he could do music theory in his sleep. After all, he’d been writing songs since he was five.
(289 words)
Twice the Test
Dan didn’t like this one bit. Being crammed into one of these tiny desks for three hours straight, a test administrator hovering the entire time. She’d sent the three of them to the farthest corners of the room from each other, casting them suspicious glances as if somehow being triplets gave them some shared psychic edge over the other students. Dan hadn’t appreciated being stared at while he stood in the doorway anyway, and even now, as he stared anxiously at a quadratic equation, he could feel the weight of multiple gazes on him, wondering.
Kevin had thought it would be a good idea to make sure all four of them were back in Calgary in time to take their final exams with the other high school students. A good learning experience, he’d said when he announced it on the bus that last night in Switzerland. Dan didn’t think that being left in a room with at least half a dozen potentially psychotic fangirls was a learning experience as much as it was a test of the triplets’ survival skills.
Scott was in a separate room with other kids in his grade. Dan missed the days when it was just the four of them scattered throughout the bus, trying to figure out how to write comfortably while their mother hovered in the background, her kitchen timer ticking ominously as it marked the time down toward the boys’ mutual doom.
The test administrator called a half hour warning.
Dan sighed and skipped to the next question; hopefully he’d have time to come back to a few at the end.
For the first time in a long time, Dan wished he’d always been like one of the other students, anonymous and faceless in a crowd. Until then, every exam would be twice the test - first the math, then the fitting in.
Dan wondered how he’d ever thought that listening to thousands of girls screaming his name every night was normal.
(328 words)
Kevin had thought it would be a good idea to make sure all four of them were back in Calgary in time to take their final exams with the other high school students. A good learning experience, he’d said when he announced it on the bus that last night in Switzerland. Dan didn’t think that being left in a room with at least half a dozen potentially psychotic fangirls was a learning experience as much as it was a test of the triplets’ survival skills.
Scott was in a separate room with other kids in his grade. Dan missed the days when it was just the four of them scattered throughout the bus, trying to figure out how to write comfortably while their mother hovered in the background, her kitchen timer ticking ominously as it marked the time down toward the boys’ mutual doom.
The test administrator called a half hour warning.
Dan sighed and skipped to the next question; hopefully he’d have time to come back to a few at the end.
For the first time in a long time, Dan wished he’d always been like one of the other students, anonymous and faceless in a crowd. Until then, every exam would be twice the test - first the math, then the fitting in.
Dan wondered how he’d ever thought that listening to thousands of girls screaming his name every night was normal.
(328 words)
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Project Assignment #52 - Finals
In honor of finals week, let it be finals. Finals for school, mission, life. OR nothing at all if life gets in the way.
Max 500
Max 500
Overview #51: Gifts
This assignment was actually pretty hard for me. I figured with Bob and Carolyn, the obvious gift from Bob would be music. I was tempted to make an entire mixtape playlist so people knew what songs Bob had included for Carolyn, but otherwise I was not that motivated, what with finals and all. As for the others - my original intention was to show what every single Sector Five boy got for his incarnation of Asia in his life, but then I ended up showing what Asia might give some of them in return. Honestly, once the team becomes a team and they've all been awakened, things like birthdays sort of disappear and rarely happen, and then Christmas isn't much of a celebration either, so I'd honestly never really thought too hard about what gifts they might give each other, and it was interesting to see how they thought of each other. It was a lot of fun, though, so good times were had all around!
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