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 Posted: Wed Jun 03, 2015 6:51 pm
D E V E L O P M E N T A L x S O L O
My Fascination "Cici? Quince! I know you hear me! Where are you going?" Roseryn demanded in a hiss as he trailed after his younger brother's footsteps. The Orderite girl had departed their company hastily, and in the wake of her absence, Rose watched fascination and intrigue dance through his sibling's eyes. Seeing her off should've been the last either of them thought of her. She was not special, noteworthy, or remarkable in any discernible way, as far as the Ysali could see, but Quince had been delighted by her presence, and even more delighted by the prospect of seeing what adventures awaited for himself.
He'd set off after her without a second thought. "I'd just like to see the ship, alright," Quince hummed as they walked back through the town together. "You might not be interested, but I am. I've always wanted-" He cut off sharply, tilting his head down and coming to a stuttering stop. His shoulders sank, and for an instant, there was only quiet. Then, "Do you remember when Mother would read to us at night?"
"That doesn't seem relevant," Rose commented, catching up to his brother as Quince slowed. "But yes, I remember."
"She told us fantastic stories, of knights and dragons and great sorcerers and princes and ridiculous lands with creatures and ships and castles and no magic."
"It seemed truly dreadful to me-"
"That girl is right out of those stories. Her life isn't easy. She isn't pampered or coddled-"
Rose snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. "You can't honestly think we're being 'coddled' by anyone accept Mother. There's plenty of excitement-"
"I don't want 'excitement!' I want fun. I want to be happy. She looked happy. She wore happy like a cloak when you weren't torturing her. I want to have friends and challenges that don't decrease my family standing if I don't excel in every aspect. I can only endure so much. I need a balance- a balance of work and play, and I don't get that. So if I want-" His eyes narrowed, and he took a step back toward Roseryn, lavender eyes pinning the older lad with dark determination. "-to see her ship and hear her stories, than I will. Either shut up and follow or get out of my way."
Rose stilled, his lips thinning down to nothing and his toxic orbs finding their way to rest in the sand. His brother was impatient, stubborn, and more careless than Rose had ever given him credit for. Cici was his junior, and while capable of handling himself, it was Roseryn's familial duty to look after him, particularly when he was being a blithering idiot, as he was now. "I wasn't exactly standing in your way. You were leading-"
"I recall one of my conditions being for you to keep your mouth closed,"Cici scoffed as he turned away, sticking his hands in his pockets and starting off again.
"I don't want to spoil you by giving you everything you want," Rose grumbled out in response. The acquiescence he'd already made was plenty enough to satisfy the younger male. Or it very well should be, at any rate. This whole endeavor could already go awry at any minute. The interest he'd taken in this dirty pirate girl was already sickening enough. But if it would appease Quince even for a while, it simply had to be done. And the shifting sands unfortunately left them an easy trail to follow, much to Roseryn's chagrin.
"Man, that's so cool," Cici hummed once the two of them were hidden away in the outcropping of rocks the vessel was moored behind. The jagged stone edges likely kept many others from straying too far back, and the ship itself was far enough out that it likely wouldn't be impeded upon. Only the little wooden dingy pushed ashore nearby gave indication that someone might still be in town.
Rose rolled his eyes. "We rode a ferry to get here. It isn't as if you've never been on the sea before."
"That's just a ferry," Quince argued. "This is a ship. People live on this for weeks and months and years at a time. It's really very fascinating."
"I'm sure they don't live comfortably."
"Comfortable enough to keep doing it." Quince fidgeted from where he stood, shifting from foot to foot as he stared out over the ocean and off to where the ship swayed lightly in the dark water. "If we found and spoke to Charlotte again, maybe-"
Roseryn's head whipped to face him, body going rigid in horrified shock. "No, no. Absolutely not. You've no business seeing that girl again. Once was plenty." He grabbed Quince's arm, fingers knotting in the loose fabric there and clinging. "Enough. We're going back to the tavern. We'll spend our next few days here following around you beloved commoner professor, and then, we will go home. And forget this. Come." He turned, hauling the captured limb with him and pulling Cici away from the sight.
"Oi, lads." Rose stilled, his gaze locked on the dirtied breaches of some behemoth standing immediately before him. Some specimen that had wandered up unnoticed. To be fair, it seemed like quite an accomplishment for a beast of his size. Cici also must have noticed, because almost instantly his fingers were finding their way into the stiff fabric of his brother's coat and clinging. Roseryn tilted his head back, attention traveling up and up and up toward the bearded face of some male monstrosity. "This is no place for little tykes."
"Leaving. We were-"
"Nice ship."
Roseryn's mind went white. His eyes widened, somehow managing to see absolutely nothing until he craned his head around to stare incredulously, horrified at his brother. Quince looked surprised too. Maybe not so much concerned, but certainly surprised. A thousand things must have slipped through Rose's thoughts. 'Why?' 'You idiot!' 'What possessed you to say that?' 'Run.' 'He didn't really mean-' 'We didn't see anything, honest.' 'You will leave us in peace or you will regret it.'He doubted muscular-breeches-man would have much to fear of two very small Dovaa children.
So Rose turned back to him, opened his mouth, and only had a second to comprehend the fist coming toward him, rapidly followed by pain blossoming through his chest and abdomen and stealing every ounce of breath from him as he dropped like a stone. Another, sharper, more compact pain right at his temple sent his vision swimming. Cici was touching his hip and his shoulder and might've been speaking. Or maybe it was wind and waves, but there wasn't time to decipher it because everything was black.x
x
Results: Is captured by Char's crew...
Word Count: 1109
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Posted: Mon Jun 08, 2015 11:09 am
P R P x R E F L E C T I O NMy Journey Begins ROSE'S THOUGHTSResults: ???
Word Count: ???
JR Word Count: ???
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Posted: Thu Sep 03, 2015 6:03 pm
D E V E L O P M E N T A L x S O L O
My Expanding World Patience was quickly becoming something Roseryn struggled with. He wanted off this ship. He wanted to go home. He wanted to know, for a fact, that if he schemed, plotted, and hated hard enough, he could overcome forty some-odd people and have his way sooner than they’d like. Rose knew that this, unfortunately, was likely to not ever be the case. Regardless of how many people he subdued, there was no hope of him single-handedly navigating a ship back to any port. He hadn’t the skill or knowledge of such things. Perhaps if he struggled hard enough, he could get a bearing on their location. But knowing what to do with it was another matter entirely.
With circumstances as they were, time to himself was dragged to a minimum, leaving him even more edgy, irritable, and unapproachable than usual. Regardless of the seafarers’ openness and agreeable and friendly attitude, Rose gave them only spite. Unable to rely fully on his own abilities for escape was demoralizing, and their cheer grated on him like nails on a chalkboard. Charlotte herself was nearly constantly by their side, showing them ‘tricks’ to chores and introducing them to her burly, smelly ‘friends.’
It seemed like every instant he spent here was a waste. He grudgingly did whatever menial chore was entrusted to him. He hung forever over his brother’s shoulder, listening to Cici’s curiosities and excitement about the whole adventure. He stole, in the brief and fleeting instances in which he was left to his own devices. But only the things that seemed necessary.
Roseryn’s finger skimmed down the sharpened edge of a dagger, plucked from the belt of a man more interested in his drink than his surroundings. He sat with his back to a wall, tucked into a corner of one of the various available nooks aboard the vessel. Cici was nearby, rummaging through a box of old garments as if he genuinely believed he might find something that fit him.
When the younger male glanced over to him, Quince’s violet orbs widened, his motions stilling instantly. “Roseryn,” he murmured softly. “They didn’t want us to have weapons. You’ll give them the wrong idea if you go around with-”
“That’s exactly why we should have them,” the Ysali hissed, voice low. “I’ve no intention of being unarmed around a bunch of criminals.”
The young Dovaa moved over to him, dipping into a crouch before his brother. He settled his folded arms on his knees and neatly rested his chin atop them. “You have your magic,” he pointed out. “That’s hardly unarmed.”
Roseryn sighed, dark lashes drifting shut. He straightened himself from the wall, perching on his knees and leaning forward. Fingers skimmed across Quince’s cheek, lightly brushing hair behind his ear as Rose cupped his face. “You do not,” he retorted. “And that’s what I find bothersome.” Cici’s shoulders sank a notch as the older boy continued, “You act as if we’re among friends or even remotely good people, but we aren’t. They’re pirates, and we’re captives.”
He tugged forward, encouraging Cici to move toward him as Roseryn’s arm fell away. With a short huff, the younger male slipped into place at his brother’s side, pressing close, leaning against his shoulder, settling his cheek to the side of Rose’s head. “They aren’t bad,” he argued. “They’re just different than us. We’re not being hurt or mistreated...”
The Ysali closed his eyes, dipping his arm between them to lace their fingers together. His little brother, his only family out here. Stupid, foolish little brother… “I want to give this to you,” Rose muttered, fingering the blade with his free hand. “I just… am not sure how much I trust you to not get it taken away or be found. You’re acting so unlike yourself that I can’t say with complete certainty what to expect of you.”
Quince squeezed his hand.
“Do you even want to go home?” Rose demanded at last.
Cici inhaled, stilled, swallowed, glanced fleetingly toward his brother, then gave a single terse shake of his head.
Roseryn bristled instantly. “Why not?” He snapped, body notching an inch or so away to try and get a good look at his younger sibling. “We can’t stay here! And I don’t want to be ransomed as if I were some useless child. I can’t be sold like an object. Our family will be missing us. Your little sisters look up to you, and they need us around. Mother will worry herself to death, and Father-”
“I spoke to him,” Cici murmured, “Before we left.” His tone had softened to little more than a whisper, basically nothing over the sound of waves against the hull and creaking wood and shuffling crates around them. Less than nothing when compared to Roseryn’s outburst. “I remembered Aster being disowned because he wasn’t what Father wanted, and I- I asked him what he would do if we all turned out like Aster. If we were all disappointments.” Quince’s shoulders shook. He pressed closer to Rose. “I thought maybe he’d say, ‘That’s impossible. You each have your own strengths. Soldaster was a mistake.’ I expected something like that. I didn’t really think he’d be nice to Aster, but otherwise…” He twisted to bury his nose into Roseryn’s shoulder, the hand that wasn’t twined with his brother’s coming up to sink in the fabric at the Ysali’s chest. “Do you know what he said instead?”
As much Roseryn didn’t want to admit that he had no idea, he expected it was something that lined rather cruely with his father’s personality. He wrapped an arm around Cici’s back. “Of all people who’s opinions and concerns matter to you-”
“He said he would ‘make. More.’ If he was dissatisfied with us, if we weren’t enough, he’d just have more kids until someone was good enough for his standards. You can be replaced like an object, if not sold like one.”
It was, if not exactly what Rose was expecting, then at least along the same lines. He unfolded his legs, shifting to the side and gathering the smaller male against him. He tugged Quince into his lap, letting his younger brother curl against him like a small, wounded animal. Cici was two years his junior, but hardly less than an inch shorter and lacking nothing in terms of broadness. He was not light. “It’s alright,” Roseryn hummed, carding his fingers through the younger Dovaa’s hair, sweeping an arm around him. “You don’t need his approval. You have me-”
“You’re not any better. You do whatever he says and don’t care how it affects anyone else. You hate Aster. And you were three seconds from yelling at me for not wanting to leave.”
“That’s nonsense,” Rose grumbled, reaching with some difficulty to catch Quince’s chin and lightly encourage his brother to look at him. “You’re my favorite.”
The immediacy to which Cici’s gaze shifted to annoyance was astounding. “Do you think that’s right? To have a favorite? We all have them, of course. But you’re not supposed to admit it. You should love us all equally. I don’t need you ranking me or judging me.”
“I’m not judging you. I’m trying to make you happy,” the Ysali argued. “And I can’t… see you being happy here. Not doing this. You’re supposed to do better things with yourself.”
Cici sighed and shrugged. “That’s fine for you, maybe. I’m happy to support you in whatever choices you make. I just wish you’d offer me the same courtesy.”
They quieted for several instances. Roseryn’s fingers brushed through his sibling’s hair, absently dragging at the soft brown waves before lifting the ends for half-hearted inspection. Quince’s shaking stopped, tension ebbing from him as he relaxed against Rose’s chest. They were stuck still, but it was a less pressurized ‘stuck’ than the one at home. And they were together,if that meant anything. Rose could fret about his poor mother’s condition and wonder what would become of Aster in his absence, but as it stood, there was nothing to be done about it. Without him even noticing, Quince’s problems had grown greater than theirs.
“You never intended to return to the Celestial Plane,” the Ysali muttered.
Cici murmured unintelligibly, then shook his head. “No, I didn’t.”
“You could’ve said something. You could’ve told me what you were planning.”
“I tried. I tried to talk to you while we were on Serenia. I thought you understood then, even a little, what I was feeling, but… You can’t fix this. I’m not sure what you’re deluding yourself into thinking about our family, but you can’t fix this. It would be better for all of us, I think, if we moved on from this.”
“From home?” Rose iterated.
“From there,” Quince replied desperately. “I won’t call someplace ‘home’ if I don’t feel safe, and I’m tired of trying to accomplish the impossible. I can do something here. I can see the world, meet interesting people… They look happy when I do something for him. It’s not strange to appreciate that.”
Rose’s toxic orbs flicked sidelong, taking in as much of Cici’s face as he could. “I’m worried about Mother. And Aster. Iris and Silly still need someone responsible to look after them. They’re too young to be left to their own devices.”
“I never told you not to go back, and I’m not saying I want to stay permanently. I simply don’t see the harm in letting things run their course. It is a learning experience, if not the one you thought you were joining me for.”
Roseryn’s fingers notched at the nape of Cici’s neck. His shoulder sank, and with only a little press, they were facing each other again. Lavender on chartreuse. “And when things ‘run their course,’ you will return with me? You will be happy with this dose of freedom? We can return to the Plane and ‘fix’ what problems we may have?”
There was an awkward attempt to roll his shoulders in which Rose suspected was supposed to serve as a response. “I’ll keep the knife,” Cici murmured off-handedly. “I won’t let it be found and taken, and if something unsavory does spring up, I’ll be able to defend myself. Will that be enough for now?”
It wasn’t.
“Of course,” Rose acquiesced, the blade the farthest thing from his mind. “We have… some time to get it sorted. If, in this moment, this is what pleases you, it is enough.” He leaned forward, laid a light kiss to Quince’s temple, twined his arms around his brother’s waist, and drew him close. Neither were satisfied. Couldn’t go, couldn’t stay, couldn’t settle on anything. But on the whole, it didn’t matter what they decided to do today. If they could reach a common objective or not, they were still limited in what they could accomplish. For now, it served Roseryn no purpose to push his point. So he held his little brother. He petted his hair. He convinced himself that things would look more promising after Cici spent a few more days on the ship.x
x
Results: Rose and his brother discuss their intentions.
Word Count: 1847
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Posted: Thu Sep 03, 2015 6:04 pm
D E V E L O P M E N T A L x S O L O
Guns N’ Roses There were no further displays of a mental lapse on Quince's part. He was bubbly, curious, inquisitive of near everything, and eager, very stupidly eager to learn whatever he could from anyone that would teach him. Cici learned to work the cast-nets and the names of at least a dozen types of fish he caught in them. He could chart the stars, identify the largest, and come up with an occasionally-accurate guess as to their location. He partook in a handful of card- and coin-tricks that shouldn't have bedazzled and awed him anywhere near as much as it did, but Quince was apparently completely mesmerized by sleight of hand.
Despite what Roseryn would've classified as a gross display of enthusiasm, he stood at his brother’s side through it all, just out of arm’s reach, a looming, assessing shadow to everything Quince did. At first, the crew would try and engage Cici and Roseryn equally. If one of them was adventurous, surely the other was just as interested in what they had to say. It took them only a handful days to realize otherwise. And by that point, it seemed reasonable not to engage the elder Ysali brother at all, outside of a passive nod in greeting.
This suited Roseryn just fine. He observed, waited, followed his younger sibling everywhere, and didn’t have to work at ignoring people doing and saying things that didn’t interest him. He could focus on his brother; his very precious and fragile little brother. Hope and pray that nothing struck Quince as so interesting that it merited staying for any lengthy stretch of time. Certainly none of it appealed to Roseryn.
Until it did.
He swallowed, stood stiff and alert, arms tucked behind him, and toxic green eyes trained on his brother’s movements.
Cici shifted his weight, held both his arms before him, kept his lavender gaze steady, breathed slowly. He watched the glass target ahead with rapt attention, eyes narrowed as he fidgeted with the gun in his grip. The brothers stood on the deck of the ship, shadowed by two women likely in their thirties. One was an Orderite. The other, an Ayrala Dovaa. It was the Orderite that stood at Quince’s side, touching his shoulder, humming out instructions in his ear that Roseryn didn’t quite catch, but that he found himself straining to hear.
Because a gun seemed dangerous in his brother’s hands, and he wanted to be sure Cici was safe. Not because he was interested. No, never.
Quince squared off against a single glass bottle, propped up on a short stack of crates, with nothing but endless sky and sea behind them. No clouds, no birds. Just varying degrees of blue no matter which way the eye strayed. Wind danced around them, lightly touseling hair and flicking at the loose garments the Vayne brothers had been outfitted in. It was sunny, the temperature was mild, and while it pained Roseryn to admit anything was acceptable, it was a nice day to be outside. Nicer still, if there was appropriate resources to utilize his magic.
Unfortunately, on a ship, there was not. And so his attention was forced to hang on other things. The gun.
Rose leaned forward half a fraction. Surely an indeterminate amount. But the Dovaa woman must’ve noticed all the same, because she nudged back at his chest, warning him to ‘stay to the side.’ Roseryn might’ve shoved her away, barked at her not to touch him, stepped forward just to spite her. He didn’t, though, because an instant later there was a jarring bang! As unprepared as he was, Roseryn flinched. The women roared in laughter and an instant later, the younger Vayne boy was on the ground.
This was what sent a dark spool of fear unwinding in his gut. “Quice?” Rose demanded tightly as he moved to his brother’s side and stooped immediately into a crouch. Hesitant fingers reached out to incessantly splay across his sibling’s chest, fearful, searching, probing. No holes. No blood. Heartbeat. And the younger male groaned. Roseryn sighed softly.
“Soudana’s hell,” Cici bit out as he slowly picked himself up onto his elbows. “That was-” He rolled his shoulder, wincing a bit before glancing at and touching the pads of his fingers to the joint. "-not what I expected when you said 'kick.'” He shot the Orderite a sheepish smile, then dragged himself forward into a full sit, Roseryn’s hands still hovering just over him. Satisfied that he wasn’t injured outside of a bit of bruised pride, Quince glanced back to the gun. “It's just so small; I didn't think it could..."
“Knock ya straight t’ yer arse?” Supplied the Orderite, extending a hand for Cici to take before helping him to his feet. “Caught ya by su’prise a bit, did’nnit? Look there.” She pointed to the glass bottle still perched neatly in its place. “Did’n’ even hit it.”
The look Cici sent the glass bottle could only aptly be identified as a pout. His brows furrowed and his shoulders bunched and his bottom lip jutted out. He grunted stiffly. “I was shoved to the ground by an inanimate object and didn’t even accomplish anything for it.” Which was strange, because he’d expected to. It seemed like it should be easy. Point and shoot, like with a bow. Not that it looked like a bow or felt like a bow or handled like a bow. Irrelevant. He glanced to Roseryn, standing close at hand, and quirked him a small grin. “You don’t look very amused, brother. I thought for sure you’d get a chickle out of the whole mess.”
Roseryn immediately looked taken aback. “You can’t really believe that...” He muttered, emerald gaze twitching down toward the wooden planks of the deck. “I didn’t know what to expect, and you hit the ground so abruptly, I was… You scared me, Cici. I-”
A snort cut him off, as the Orderite woman nudged her elbow into her Dovaa companion’s ribs. “Oiya, the gun scared the little lord, aye.” There was a round of snickers that sent a wave of red splashing up the back of the Ysali boy’s neck.
“I’m not afraid of the gun,” he snapped, whipping to face the clearly amused women. “I was afraid you’d sabotaged something to hurt my overly trusting little brother. If it had been anything worse than him falling on his arse, Abronaxus help you, because I-”
“Aye, lad.” The Orderite grinned easily at him, settling her hands on her hips and cocking her waist to the side. “We’re right concerned about what ye would’ve done. And cause yer so worried about sabotage, I bet ye don’t want a go a yer own, hn?” She quirked a brow at him.
More heat made its way to Rose’s cheeks, and surely nearly every muscle even slightly connected to his shoulders stiffened as his eyes widened to green saucers. “That’s...” ’Right. I don’t want anything from you. I don’t want you meddling with my brother or even talking to him. Keep your bird weaponry to yourself.’ He swallowed.
“Yeah!” Roseryn’s attention twitched back to his younger brother. “You should give it a try! You’ll probably have more luck at it than me, and even if you don’t…” Quince sheepishly scratched the back of his head, shooting the older boy a hesitant smile. “At least I wouldn’t be the only one embarrassed.”
This was only barely a compelling argument, but then Roseryn hadn’t needed much coaxing to begin with. He moved to the Orderite’s side. She beamed cheekily as she handed over her weapon, and the Ysali took a moment to scrutinize the new object. He didn’t know anyone who used one, let alone owned a gun, and the whole mechanization was completely foreign to him. It was heavier than he expected, for something so small. And peculiarly shaped.
The woman closed in on him, lifted his arm and adjusted his grip. It was with great effort that Roseryn kept his response to this down to a grimace. “There’s yer sight. Right on top there.” She ran her finger down a thin groove in the top of the metal. “Stare down that little slit ta get yer aim.”
It pained him to ask, but at the same time, better to be knowledgeable. “Is there a proper stance I should be utilizing, or…?”
“Fer this little thing?” The woman blinked. “Nah, nah! Just get comfortable. Keep yer arm out. Watch where ya shoot. If it were bigger, might have a little more tact to it, but not with this ‘un. It’s an easy shot. Easy shot!”
He didn’t care much for her exuberance, and felt instantly like she was wrong in her declarations, but he had no grounds to base the claim on, so he sighed, straightened his posture, and took aim. It was different, but if all he had to do was hold himself still and stare down this little targeting groove it shouldn’t be hard. Still, not stiff, Rose reminded himself as he thought of his brother flopping to the ground. He sighed, relaxed, shook himself out.
“Any day now, lad.”
Roseryn went out of his way to shift about, flex his fingers, roll his shoulders before steeling himself again and focusing on his target. He pulled the trigger, willing himself not to flinch at the sound and not clench his eyelids shut at the recoil and definitely not tip over like a chair with broken legs. It shook him all the same, the impact jarring down the length of his arm and earning a too-high-pitched grunt of alarm. But outside of a backwards shift of his weight to follow through with the kick, he didn’t move. The first thing that came into his immediate focus was the thin tendril of smoke coiling from the tip of the barrel. Then his gaze riveted to the glass target.
Or the specks of it s remains that still lingered within sight. “You hit it…” Quince murmured. And he hadn’t floored himself while trying to do it, either. Tiny shards of glass tinkered against the wooden crate. Most of them had blown out to the other side, but a few remained on top, just barely large enough for Roseryn’s eyes to see.
He blinked, swallowed, and schooled his features down to indifference before cocking his head back to glower at the three of them. “Of course I did.” And it shouldn’t have felt as rewarding and exhilarating as it did. His ears were still ringing and his arm shook, but of course he hit it. “Easy target,” he repeated the bird’s words.x
x
Results: Fun with new weaponry.
Word Count: 1771
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Posted: Mon Dec 14, 2015 7:00 pm
D E V E L O P M E N T A L x S O L O
Gamble and Jape “Aren’t you a right cocky little s**t?” Tahari, the Orderite woman, grunted as she glowered at the red-headed boy before her. He ran a hand back through his mess of curls and fixed her with the smuggest, haughtiest, most damnable half-quirk of lips she’d ever had the displeasure of seeing on a teenager. She huffed. He smirked. It didn’t seem right. That this brat should be talented at anything without even trying. Roseryn Vayne didn’t even look pleased, he just looked expectant, waiting on her to tell him she’d never seen better, that he was an excellent shot, a natural.
Not gonna happen.
He held out the gun for her to take, flippantly twisting it about to a finger and dangling the weapon from its trigger guard. “I think I’ve earned the right,” he informed her briskly, a crooked, sly grin threatening to overtake his features.
She could’ve smacked him. Probably should’ve for his bold mistreatment of her equipment. Instead Tahari quirked her brow at him and clucked her tongue discouragingly as she placed her open palm against the cool metal of the gun and notched it back in his direction. “One shot don’t make ye a master, little lord. Do it again.” After a moment of hesitation, she added, “And don’t hold it such like that. Show a good weapon a little respect. Might blow yer heart clean out handlin’ it the way ye are.”
The shift in the Ysali’s mood was instantaneous, a sneer replacing the smug set of his lips and his bright chartreuse orbs flashing like lightning. “I don’t take orders from worthless, thieving, Orderite scum like you,” he growled stiffly.
But Tahari didn’t bat an eye. “I’ll give yeh a reason, aye? We’ll make a game of it.” Whatever Rose’s argument was died on his lips. He fixed her with a pointed stare, but otherwise said nothing. When the younger male didn’t immediately cut her off, she continued. “Ye make the next shot, and I’ll let you keep Anarchy. The gun,” she explained at his quizzical look. “But.” She let the word dangle in the air there for half a heartbeat, watching intrigued impatience paint Roseryn’s face. She scrubbed her nails on the collar of her shirt and glanced away from him. “If ye don’ make it, ye hafter look me in the eye and say something genuinely nice to me. A compliment, if you will. It seems a real struggle for you...”
This was clearly unpleasant. Rose’s expression tightened, a low hiss of sound seething from his teeth as his eyes narrowed in suspicion. As she stared back at him, Tahari wondered if he could call her bluff. The wheels were clearly turning, but she had no idea what he managed to piece together. Finally he grumbled out a hesitant question. “You’d bet your gun for a little of my praise?”
“I ain’t afraid of losing, lad.”
Neither was he.
“Fine,” Roseryn agreed curtly, and his eyes had taken on that sly vixen gleam again as he gestured for her to set up the next target. She had to assume he knew nothing. If the taunt (was he even aware he was doing that? It sounded so natural) in his tone was any indication, it was probably a safe assumption. “I suppose you’ll just have to trust that I won’t misuse anything I win in your little bet. Perhaps that’ll be a deterrent from such brazen words in the future.”
WIth some difficulty, Tahari willed herself not to burst into raucous laughter as she set up another glass bottle for him to shoot at. No. He was clearly as clueless as any teenaged boy should be. Instead, she very politely dipped her head and hummed out a still decidedly too-chipper, “Right, Milord,” before shifting off to stand out of his way and out of the way of the glass shards she fully expected him to send careening toward her.
Roseryn didn’t disappoint.
As with his first shot, he maintained an air of haughty confidence, which could only be bolstered by the fact that there was actually something to be gained from his participation now. And in equally similar fashion to the first time, the Ysali hit his mark. Of course. While this should’ve been off-putting to the older Orderite woman, when Rose fixed her with those cutting peridot eyes and that pompous grin, she knew, in that fleeting fraction of a second they’d made eye contact, she’d won. There was no time to offer him a chance to gloat.
“Let’s raise the stakes,” she invited immediately and only belated wondered if she sounded too eager.
Apparently not, for if she did, Roseryn ignored it. Or maybe he’d anticipated some quick, spur-of the moment attempt to get her weapon back. “My dear-” The way he drawled the word made her want to give him a jab to the face to blacken one of his pretty green eyes. She contented herself by remembering that she still had the upper hand. “You don’t have anything else I want.”
There it was again. That sensation that he was so stupidly unaware of what she actually had going on. He had no idea what she actually wanted from him. Tahari wetted her lips to tamp down the grin that threatened to give her away. “Your freedom. You and yer little bro will be let go, set back to yer pretty secluded land of rainbows and starshine and butterflies.”
It effectively silenced him, and Roseryn looked immediately taken aback by her offer. The smug had been wiped clean off his face, replaced by anxious trepidation. His voice dropped to a whisper. “You don’t have the authority to give that to me,” he accused.
“You let Miss Tahari worry about what I can and can’t get you, huh?” Tahari purred sweetly, reaching to tousle his hair. “And it’s conditional, besides. Ye do got to win against me still. I’m sure you’ve got nothin’ to lose, but-”
Roseryn’s eyes flickered in that suspicious half-narrow again. “And if I do lose?” He demanded.
The older Orderite pieced together her words carefully. She wanted the impact of this to feel like a genuine threat. Rose clearly wasn’t one to back off from a challenge, particularly when he felt his skill was questioned. “You’ll still give me my compliment,” she told him. He huffed in impatience. “But you’ll do it in a dress. Of my choosing.”
There was no word for the tumult of emotions that flashed across Roseryn’s face. Although, loathing, anger, disgust were most notable. The grin that had threatened to split her face finally made its appearance. “Unless it’s too much fer the lordling t’ handle?”
“Not a chance,” the Ysali spat. It was the sweetest thing he’d said all day. Music to her ears.
“Course, course… And ye’ll expect, I’m sure, that th’ game’s a bit.. differ’nt this time?” It was clear he did not, so she hastily assured him, “No harder, for you, Milord. More intrestin’ for me.” he still looked skeptical. She moved back towards the crates, the range of their targets, and set up five additional bottles. “Usin’ only the bullets provided, break all five of ‘em. See? Same rules, same rules! Just a lengthier display.”
It was at that moment the younger Vayne brother reminded them of his presence. His voice was high and alarmed as he spoke. “Roseryn,” Quince warned. “Don’t do this. Don’t let her-”
Unfortunately, he was a threat to her plans. Tahari waved him away with a grunt, dusting him back away from them, encouraging him to keep silent with a meaningful look and a rumble of, “Oiya, yer brother’s a big lad. He can make his own choices.” Cici only whimpered, so Tahari turned back to the older boy. “We got us a deal or not?”
There was a lingering second of hesitation when she was sure Roseryn suspected foul-play. The look he shot her was anything but kind, and bordered more closely on an annoyed wary. But he uttered, “Deal,” all the same, the sound hardly more than a hiss from his lips.
She could not have been more thrilled and gave the Vayne boy a politically incorrect bow as she stepped back to allow him his shots.
Watching him deliberately fixate on each bottle before he pulled the trigger was the sweetest suspense. Tahari grew more giddy with each shot, an impatient buzz of delighted adrenaline coursing through her with every bottle he hit. Because Roseryn did hit his targets. Consistently. And it would make the end result so much more rewarding. One target down. He still radiated that incessant smugness. As if he was so much better than her- than everyone. Roseryn Vayne might well have thought himself a god compared to the rest of them. Second target.
She almost wished she could draw this out. The closer he came to victory, the harder on him it would be. However, it was already out of her hands. Third target. She didn’t have more time to kill, and the Ysali boy was about to learn-
‘Click.’
Rose pulled the trigger on his fourth shot and was met not with the ear-piercing jar of gunfire, but with the barely-audible empty sound of the hammer meeting nothing. He stilled in that instant, arm still out, expression tense, but otherwise frozen, rooted in place. “There’s something wrong with it.” His words were a quiet rush of air past his lips. He knew it was over. Tahari would bet her life on it. But the encroaching horror was kept at bay by some smidgen of complaint that surely this was a problem that could be fixed.
The Orderite let him have that thought for several seconds before informing him, “You’re out of bullets.”
Roseryn whipped to face her then, expression barely-leashed fury. “No, I’m not,” he spat. “I hit a target with every shot I fired. I haven’t missed once. I have enough-”
“It’s a six-shot pistol. Your brother fired one. Yeh fired two before we began this competition, and ye hit three targets. There’s yer six shots. You lost.”
The entirety of his face bloomed a beautiful shade of red even darker than his hair. “I didn’t know. How could I- You cheated-”
It was everything Tahari had hoped for and more. “I explained the ruled real clear-like to ya. Yer fault you interpreted them wrong.” His eyes had gone so abysmally wide that she wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d popped out of his head. To make matters sweeter, she stalked over to him, leaned as close as she could, fixed him with the sweetest, most girlish smile she could muster, and purred, “I’ll pick out somethin’ real nice for you, pretty boy. Maybe to match those eyes of yers.”
The horror of the moment escaped him in a stuttered breath, and Tahari laughed. She laughed and raked her fingers back through his hair while he was still too stunned to stop her, then turned on her heel and strode away. “I’ll call fer ya when I’ve found something suitable, Milord.”
Rose was left standing on the deck of the ship, silent, horrified, humiliated.x
x
Results: Kind of made a fool of myself, but at least it’s my swing, rats.
Word Count: 1862
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