snippet of story
May. 13th, 2007 06:30 pmFor those that were wondering the fate of that half-elf priest from DwtD.
I've only got the very beginning done, perhaps will try to poke at it more since what I wanted to work on today apparently hates me -_- But, what else is new, really? *sigh*
One Dark and Stormy Night
Blake looked out the kitchen window, out over the garden in the backyard.
Even the faeries had given up and retreated, the night was so awful. Usually they liked to play in the wind; he always caught snatches of their tag games when the lightning flashed. Tonight they were sleeping in the spider plant Ms. Grisham had given him as a housewarming gift.
Tonight was simply ugly. One of those storms that reminded him why some people found the things terrifying.
In fact, the only thing the night lacked to make him feel as though he’d fallen into one of the horror books on his shelf was a sharp rap at the door.
His thoughts were broken by the shrill scream of the tea kettle. Turning off the burner, he picked up the kettle and filled his favorite old mug – blue with the logo of the park his mother had taken him to nearly every day after school as a kid – nearly to the brim. The scent of lemon-ginger tea filled the kitchen.
It was very much not a horror book type smell. There, he’d broken the spell. No zombies tonight.
The thought would be funnier if he hadn’t recently heard Chris’s zombie stories. Lord in Heaven, he hoped that sort of problem never found a home in Millerton.
Tea suitably steeped, he discarded the tea bag and wandered back into the living room to resume reading. His sermon for Sunday was written, he’d called off the evening’s various classes and clubs due to the weather…
Leaving him with a rare evening free.
He would have preferred to spend a nice evening in the garden with his tea and faeries, but he’d take what he got and be grateful.
Just as he’d settled into his recliner, a comfy leather splurge he refused to guilty over, there came a series of hard bangs at his door.
Lifting his eyes to heaven, wondering which female in his parish had gotten a flat tire on their way home from getting bread and milk – never mind the grocery store was fully in the opposite direction – Blake set down his tea and book with a sigh and strode to the door.
“Blake!”
“Doran?” Blake asked, throwing the door wide open and stepping back so his half-brother could enter.
The half brother he’d only known for about two years now…who normally only passed through every few months and wasn’t due for at least two more…
Who was helping someone inside.
Blake immediately moved in to help, catching up the – figure, man he thought – with whom Doran was struggling. “The couch,” he said, and together they hauled the soaked, unmoving figure to his not-clean-for-much-longer couch.
“Thanks,” Doran said, then groaned. “I thought I was going to pass out myself lugging him here.”
“What’s going on?” Blake asked, but didn’t wait for an answer, going instead to fetch towels…they’d need dry clothes…blankets…arms full, he made his way blindly back to the living room, hoping desperately he didn’t trip over something—
And promptly stumbled, spilling everything, landing with an oof in a pile of blankets and clothes and towels.
“I’d, uh, love to help you, but I don’t think I can move,” Doran said apologetically from the chair.
Where he was drinking Blake’s tea.
Blake would be annoyed, but Doran never showed up looking less than perfectly cheerful and healthy. Right now he looked pale, exhausted, and very much as though even smiling was an effort.
Strange, to say the least.
He sorted out the mess on the floor and carried an old pair of jeans and a t-shirt with some country fair logo to his brother, along with a towel for the long, long hair – down to his rear now, Blake saw. On any other man it would look utterly ridiculous, but elves somehow managed the trick.
“Thanks,” Doran said, with a grateful if tired smile. “I think I hauled him about five miles. From that park…” he waved his hand vaguely in the air.
For a race that was by nature prone to extreme wanderlust, elves weren’t much on directions. ‘That way looks/was interesting’ was about the closest they got. Patterns, like that which now brought Doran by Blake’s place every few months, only happened when something was ‘really interesting.’
Doran stood with a long groan and began to strip out of his sodden clothes. Blake left him to it and turned his own attention to the figure on the couch.
Not a normal, but Doran would be willing to drag precious few normals five miles – and there would be no reason, when plenty of normals lived much closer to the park.
So did plenty of abnormals for that matter.
If Doran had come all this way dragging an injured man…there must be something only Blake could handle. Which mean it must be elf-related, or at least plant related – though that made no sense either. What a half-elf could do, a full elf could do better, insofar as such things went.
Shaking his head, Blake shunted his thoughts to the side and simply focused on his unexpected guest.
Definitely abnormal, but not one he recognized – though with only two years or so experience with paranormals, he still had plenty to learn, even if his tutor was a demon’s consort.
Blake stood alongside the couch and looked thoughtfully at the figure lying upon it.
Gold-brown skin, like an especially dark tan… He blinked. Green hair, the color of leaves in the summer, dark with the rain. Long, here braided, there loose, woven with tiny leaves and flowers and all manner of strange beads.
Doran came up beside him. “Know it?” he asked, carefully laying his hand on the man’s forehead. Definitely masculine, as now that he was paying attention the figure was quite naked. A delicate, pretty face, a frame so bony Blake wondered if he got enough to eat.
He shook his head in answer to Doran’s question.
“Dryad,” Doran replied. “Don’t know his name, but he belongs to a peach tree in the park – at least, that was the one struck rather nastily by lightning.”
“I see,” Blake said, finally getting it. He’d never encountered a dryad, but knew of them. He should have realized…
The poor thing. If his tree had been hit by lightning… “How badly?”
“He’s lucky to be alive,” Doran said. “Do you mind if I crash?”
“Go ahead, I’ll take care of him,” Blake said with a smile. “If I don’t see you in the morning, travel safe and god bless.”
Doran kissed his cheek. “Thanks. Good to see you. I’ll try to bring a better gift next time. Good night!”
“Night,” Blake said, then turned his full attention back to the dryad.
The poor thing did not look more that utterly exhausted…but if his tree had been badly hurt…that he was alive truly was nothing less than a miracle.
Blake pondered how to get its tree from the park to here. That would be the best thing to do; his faeries could fix the tree right up and the dryad would heal right alongside it. Now, the park was property of the city…
Giving the dryad one last look, tucking in the blankets, Blake went to find his address book and plot the phone calls he would need to make.
I've only got the very beginning done, perhaps will try to poke at it more since what I wanted to work on today apparently hates me -_- But, what else is new, really? *sigh*
One Dark and Stormy Night
Blake looked out the kitchen window, out over the garden in the backyard.
Even the faeries had given up and retreated, the night was so awful. Usually they liked to play in the wind; he always caught snatches of their tag games when the lightning flashed. Tonight they were sleeping in the spider plant Ms. Grisham had given him as a housewarming gift.
Tonight was simply ugly. One of those storms that reminded him why some people found the things terrifying.
In fact, the only thing the night lacked to make him feel as though he’d fallen into one of the horror books on his shelf was a sharp rap at the door.
His thoughts were broken by the shrill scream of the tea kettle. Turning off the burner, he picked up the kettle and filled his favorite old mug – blue with the logo of the park his mother had taken him to nearly every day after school as a kid – nearly to the brim. The scent of lemon-ginger tea filled the kitchen.
It was very much not a horror book type smell. There, he’d broken the spell. No zombies tonight.
The thought would be funnier if he hadn’t recently heard Chris’s zombie stories. Lord in Heaven, he hoped that sort of problem never found a home in Millerton.
Tea suitably steeped, he discarded the tea bag and wandered back into the living room to resume reading. His sermon for Sunday was written, he’d called off the evening’s various classes and clubs due to the weather…
Leaving him with a rare evening free.
He would have preferred to spend a nice evening in the garden with his tea and faeries, but he’d take what he got and be grateful.
Just as he’d settled into his recliner, a comfy leather splurge he refused to guilty over, there came a series of hard bangs at his door.
Lifting his eyes to heaven, wondering which female in his parish had gotten a flat tire on their way home from getting bread and milk – never mind the grocery store was fully in the opposite direction – Blake set down his tea and book with a sigh and strode to the door.
“Blake!”
“Doran?” Blake asked, throwing the door wide open and stepping back so his half-brother could enter.
The half brother he’d only known for about two years now…who normally only passed through every few months and wasn’t due for at least two more…
Who was helping someone inside.
Blake immediately moved in to help, catching up the – figure, man he thought – with whom Doran was struggling. “The couch,” he said, and together they hauled the soaked, unmoving figure to his not-clean-for-much-longer couch.
“Thanks,” Doran said, then groaned. “I thought I was going to pass out myself lugging him here.”
“What’s going on?” Blake asked, but didn’t wait for an answer, going instead to fetch towels…they’d need dry clothes…blankets…arms full, he made his way blindly back to the living room, hoping desperately he didn’t trip over something—
And promptly stumbled, spilling everything, landing with an oof in a pile of blankets and clothes and towels.
“I’d, uh, love to help you, but I don’t think I can move,” Doran said apologetically from the chair.
Where he was drinking Blake’s tea.
Blake would be annoyed, but Doran never showed up looking less than perfectly cheerful and healthy. Right now he looked pale, exhausted, and very much as though even smiling was an effort.
Strange, to say the least.
He sorted out the mess on the floor and carried an old pair of jeans and a t-shirt with some country fair logo to his brother, along with a towel for the long, long hair – down to his rear now, Blake saw. On any other man it would look utterly ridiculous, but elves somehow managed the trick.
“Thanks,” Doran said, with a grateful if tired smile. “I think I hauled him about five miles. From that park…” he waved his hand vaguely in the air.
For a race that was by nature prone to extreme wanderlust, elves weren’t much on directions. ‘That way looks/was interesting’ was about the closest they got. Patterns, like that which now brought Doran by Blake’s place every few months, only happened when something was ‘really interesting.’
Doran stood with a long groan and began to strip out of his sodden clothes. Blake left him to it and turned his own attention to the figure on the couch.
Not a normal, but Doran would be willing to drag precious few normals five miles – and there would be no reason, when plenty of normals lived much closer to the park.
So did plenty of abnormals for that matter.
If Doran had come all this way dragging an injured man…there must be something only Blake could handle. Which mean it must be elf-related, or at least plant related – though that made no sense either. What a half-elf could do, a full elf could do better, insofar as such things went.
Shaking his head, Blake shunted his thoughts to the side and simply focused on his unexpected guest.
Definitely abnormal, but not one he recognized – though with only two years or so experience with paranormals, he still had plenty to learn, even if his tutor was a demon’s consort.
Blake stood alongside the couch and looked thoughtfully at the figure lying upon it.
Gold-brown skin, like an especially dark tan… He blinked. Green hair, the color of leaves in the summer, dark with the rain. Long, here braided, there loose, woven with tiny leaves and flowers and all manner of strange beads.
Doran came up beside him. “Know it?” he asked, carefully laying his hand on the man’s forehead. Definitely masculine, as now that he was paying attention the figure was quite naked. A delicate, pretty face, a frame so bony Blake wondered if he got enough to eat.
He shook his head in answer to Doran’s question.
“Dryad,” Doran replied. “Don’t know his name, but he belongs to a peach tree in the park – at least, that was the one struck rather nastily by lightning.”
“I see,” Blake said, finally getting it. He’d never encountered a dryad, but knew of them. He should have realized…
The poor thing. If his tree had been hit by lightning… “How badly?”
“He’s lucky to be alive,” Doran said. “Do you mind if I crash?”
“Go ahead, I’ll take care of him,” Blake said with a smile. “If I don’t see you in the morning, travel safe and god bless.”
Doran kissed his cheek. “Thanks. Good to see you. I’ll try to bring a better gift next time. Good night!”
“Night,” Blake said, then turned his full attention back to the dryad.
The poor thing did not look more that utterly exhausted…but if his tree had been badly hurt…that he was alive truly was nothing less than a miracle.
Blake pondered how to get its tree from the park to here. That would be the best thing to do; his faeries could fix the tree right up and the dryad would heal right alongside it. Now, the park was property of the city…
Giving the dryad one last look, tucking in the blankets, Blake went to find his address book and plot the phone calls he would need to make.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-13 10:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-13 11:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-13 11:26 pm (UTC)Can't wait for the rest! The beginning is great! Particularly the line about the tea :D
no subject
Date: 2007-05-13 11:41 pm (UTC)--Um, I have a slight provlem though. Dryads are wizards of Nature. Kinda like a Necromancer or an elemantal Mage, they specialize in Nature, not just plants. They also don't have to be bonded, or anything to a perticilar tree or animal or plant.
Now, a Nymph on the other hand....Nymphs are a spirit that protects a tree. They usually take the form of a beautiful person with the hair colors of the leaves and flowers of their tree, and the same color skin of the bark. If their tree is hurt of anything, they mourn (sometimes to the point of death), and then find a new tree, or purpose in life.
At least, I think.....I'm lazy, I won't look it up....
*headdesk* You probebly got it right yourself, and I'm an idiot, but I feel like being a wanna-be know it all....
Er, if I'm not right, plaese say so?
no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 12:42 am (UTC)Hehehe, Doran is a sweetie too.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 12:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 12:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 12:56 am (UTC)I coulda sworn though....Oh well. Learned something new.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 01:04 am (UTC)Eh. I play loose and fast with everything. Elves traditionally aren't wanderlust stricken, demons don't take consorts for fear of being yanked back into hell, imps are large, gargoyle-esque figures, and dragons aren't overgrown puppies with shiney scales ^^;; I tend to respect very little when it comes to tradition.
Great
Date: 2007-05-14 01:32 am (UTC)As always, a truly wonderful beginning.
Re: Great
Date: 2007-05-14 01:33 am (UTC)*laugh* I'm sure he did, but I'll try to fix that ^^;; Thankee.
P.S
Date: 2007-05-14 01:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 01:39 am (UTC)Tres bon!
Date: 2007-05-14 01:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 02:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 02:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 02:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 02:57 am (UTC)On another note, I wonder what Blake's reaction to Charlie would be. He's already had Sable wreck his preconception of demons, now all he needs to do is learn about angels.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 07:09 am (UTC)Slash.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 07:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 07:52 am (UTC)Eheheheh--Peach tree eh? *headdesk* Please excuse my dirty mind.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 07:58 am (UTC)Also mmmmm, dryad! Oh, and if Blake is the one saying "god bless" I would think he'd mean "God bless", because it'd be kind of ironic if he didn't? ^^;;;;;
*loves you*
And because of it I like your dragons so much
Date: 2007-05-14 08:52 am (UTC)Rose Red
no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 10:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 10:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 10:06 am (UTC)Druid?
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Date: 2007-05-14 10:44 am (UTC)this is a great start!
Date: 2007-05-14 12:08 pm (UTC)*cheers you on*
no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 12:23 pm (UTC)I'm sopposed to be doing schoolwork....
no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 02:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 10:55 pm (UTC)I love the way you think.^_~
no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 10:57 pm (UTC)*tackle glomps* And a dryad!!! *twirls you about* You rock the world. More please? ^_^
no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 10:58 pm (UTC)I look forward to more.^^
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Date: 2007-05-14 11:18 pm (UTC)Enjoy!
no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 11:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-15 12:02 am (UTC)I counter you 'Eheheheh' with a 'HAHAHA!'
Date: 2007-05-15 06:42 am (UTC)...HAHAHA!
no subject
Date: 2007-05-15 12:33 pm (UTC)Missed a 'feel' over there ^_^ It's a nice beginning though! I'm also interested in seeing how he's going to acquire the tree, and it's interesting that he immediately decides to bring it home to his garden... hehe.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-17 11:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-18 06:59 am (UTC)Good thing Blake has connections with a certain person whose demon might be held accountable for a tree with storm damage.