Aresha

Feb. 9th, 2011 11:55 pm
clare_dragonfly: woman with green feathery wings, text: stories last longer: but only by becoming only stories (Witchy: lightning)
Title: Aresha
Word count: 563
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: Daughters of Clio: abandoned factory
Notes: none


When the bombs started to hit her neighborhood, Aresha knew where she needed to go.

Of course, it was dangerous to travel, and she had no protection. But her house would be no protection against the bombs, either. It was just as dangerous to stay as it was to go. And if she stayed in her house with all the windows and doors locked up, like they said she would, Puru would have no chance.Read more... )

Warmth

Jan. 1st, 2011 07:34 pm
clare_dragonfly: woman with green feathery wings, text: stories last longer: but only by becoming only stories (Knitting: old school)
Title: Warmth
Word count: 637
Rating: PG
Prompt: Daughters of Clio: "antique rocking chair"
Notes: none

There was a knock on Sevath’s door. She shed the top layer of blankets and moved as quickly as she could to answer it. She wasn’t sure why she was even bothering, except for a vague idea that whoever it was might have something useful. Like matches. Matches would help.

At the door were neighbors she vaguely recognized from down the street, Andri and Kelen. Their son had been killed in the same school bombing that had taken Sevath’s younger sisters. They wore heavy coats and Kelen carried a flashlight that was turned off. “Sevath,” Andri said with a warm smile that seemed to crack the sides of her face. “I’m glad you’re all right. Look, we’re gathering together in the Catholic church. It’s the only place that has enough space. If you want to come, bring whatever food you have and anything you can bring that will burn, so we can have heat.”

Sevath stared, unable to believe what she was hearing for a moment. “Everyone’s… working together?”

Kelen nodded. “It’s the only way we can make it through this winter.”

Sevath continued to stare at them, then a laugh suddenly ripped its way out of her, as though she hadn’t even decided to let it happen. “Right. I’m coming. Of course I am. The Catholic church?”

“That’s right,” Andri said. “We’re letting people know. If you have more stuff than you can carry, let them know when you get there.”

“Right. Of course. I’ll see you soon.” Sevath went back into the house, leaving the door open—it was no colder outside than in now, and anyway, she had no plans to return—and shedding her blankets. They were mostly artificial, nothing she could bring, and she couldn’t walk with them on. She pulled on her bulky winter coat; she was already wearing all the rest of her clothes that could be layered together.

She looked at the empty, dusty dining room and considered what she could bring. The table was wooden, and the chairs that went with it. She would have to send someone back to get them. They were too heavy for her. But there were a few cans in the pantry. She piled them into her pockets as best as she could. What furniture could she carry? She lifted her grandmother’s antique rocking chair. As she’d thought, that was light enough to maneuver, though it might be awkward. And she could put food on it.

There was a head of cabbage in the fridge, and a few shriveled potatoes in a paper bag. They weren’t appetizing, but they had calories, and that was the important thing. She put them on the rocking chair and picked it up carefully. Yes, she could carry this.

She was panting, and almost warm from exertion, by the time she reached the church. “Welcome,” said the priest at the door, reaching out to help with her burden. “Wonderful—and is that canned food in your pockets? I’m so glad you’ve decided to join us.” He handed the rocking chair to a tall, broad-shouldered young man, who carried it to a pile she could dimly see near the center of the nave, and a middle-aged woman took the food.

“There’s more wooden furniture in my house,” she told the priest, giving him her address. “A table and chairs in the dining room. They’re too heavy for me to carry.”

“That’s wonderful,” he said. “Make yourself at home; someone else will get the fuel.”

Sevath turned toward the open area, the church looking strange; evidently they had stripped out all the benches. Someone waved at her. Suddenly a pile in the middle flared with life. There was a fire. Sevath fought back tears as she walked toward it as fast as she could, desperate to be warm.
clare_dragonfly: woman with green feathery wings, text: stories last longer: but only by becoming only stories (Witchy: moon child)
Title: The Chapel in the Thorns
Word count: 647
Rating: G
Prompt: Daughters of Clio: the old chapel
Notes: Set probably twenty or thirty years after the apocalypse.

“Are you sure it’s worth the time?” Geran asked doubtfully.

Thelir shoved him lightly. “Taia says there’s something here. So, there’s something here. We just have to find out what it is and if we can use it.”Read more... )
clare_dragonfly: woman with green feathery wings, text: stories last longer: but only by becoming only stories (NCIS: Abby and Ziva: smarter than you)
Title: Evanha
Word count: 577
Rating: G
Prompt: Daughters of Clio: little white horse
Notes: I knew what I was going to write almost the instant I read the prompt, based on something I'd already decided about this world. I don't think I'll continue it, but it's a fun little piece.

"I don't care!" Bheneg shouted. "We don't have room for horses, and we don't know how long we're going to be traveling!"

"But how will she survive without me?" Thezan cried.Read more... )
clare_dragonfly: A woman's legs, knees together, text: Do you think I meant country matters? (Shakespeare: country matters)
Daughters of Clio is a weekly prompt group I started with Lyn, Tara, and 'Trix. Technically this week is my prompt, so I don't have to write for it, but I felt like it anyway. The prompt is "the cave in the hill by the water."

Daro grabbed her hand. "Come on! I found it last year, it's really cool!"

Gerda allowed herself to be dragged along--Daro's hand was warm and strong, and she liked the way it nearly enveloped hers--but she wouldn't go without protest. "We're supposed to be watching the carts! We can't just leave!"Read more... )

Yeah, this was totally going to go somewhere, but... I got bored. Let me know if you're interested in more!

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