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flightworks2008-10-24 04:12 pm
feral-phoenix.livejournal.com) wrote in flightworks2008-10-24 04:12 pm
Entry tags:
[Carnival + Dill] skyline // con10porary
Fandom: Deepgate
Pairing/Characters: Carnival+Dill [claim → main party]
Table: 3
Prompt: skyline
Rating: PG13/T
Spoilers/Warnings: AU. Also profanity and table abuse.
Summary: compromise, that's nothing new to you.
“I mean, why do we even have these wings?” Carnival demanded suddenly, standing up with an irate look on her face.
Dill just looked up at her, confused by the vehemence of her outburst. “I’m… not sure what you’re getting at here.”
She threw up her hands, then shoved them into the pockets of her jeans. Her dark eyes narrowed, and she pulled her raven wings closer to her shoulders as she sat against the edge of the counter.
“There has to be more than just the Fairstraits and you Wainwrights that’re like this. My mom was normal, far’s I know. And yours was too, wasn’t she? But you and I…”
Dill turned from her down to his fries. They were probably getting cold, and would be unappetizing if he let them sit for much longer.
“What use are these damn wings in a world like ours? They draw attention to us and make us freaks. Sometimes I’m not even sure if you and I are really human.”
Dill picked up a fry, considered it, and used it to point, gesturing in a small shrug. He ran his free hand through his hair, a little nervously. “I never really thought about it that much—the reason, that is. We just are like this. That’s all.”
Carnival scoffed.
“Because Ayen and Iril decided it, huh?” She kicked at the table, shaking it. Dill’s empty cup fell over, and he set it upright with a sigh. Carnival’s voice was bitter—it was pointless trying to get her to stifle the violence she felt she had to express. “I’d be fine with there not being a reason. For there being some genetic sneeze a long while back that made us like this.”
(It was in the name she still used for herself, after all.)
“But the thought that there might be some reason is fucking pissing me off.” Carnival’s pale lips formed a tight line, and she kicked the table again. Dill held on to the cup; this time it didn’t overturn.
He wasn’t like Rachel or Alice. He couldn’t tell by listening just what it was she was afraid of. He just knew that something was scaring her.
So Dill chewed his lip and sighed and looked up at her. “Becky—”
She glared at him.
“—Carnival,” he amended. “Do you like to fly?”
She stopped glowering and crossed her arms loosely, her eyes fading from obsidian to slate. “More than just about anything,” she admitted.
Dill shrugged and let go of his cup, considering his fry. “Then isn’t that what really matters?”
A shrug. “…Yeah, I guess.”
Contented, Dill slouched back forward and nibbled the end of his fry. It was still warm.
Carnival reached forward and picked up her cup, shaking it. She sighed and made a face when the ice rattled inside it, then turned to pitch it into a tall trash can a few booths away. She wound a curl of her hair around her fingers, then scratched at the thick scar around her throat.
Finally, she leaned over and took a fistful of Dill’s fries. “Dammit, if you don’t feel like eating those…”
Dill just laughed.
Pairing/Characters: Carnival+Dill [claim → main party]
Table: 3
Prompt: skyline
Rating: PG13/T
Spoilers/Warnings: AU. Also profanity and table abuse.
Summary: compromise, that's nothing new to you.
“I mean, why do we even have these wings?” Carnival demanded suddenly, standing up with an irate look on her face.
Dill just looked up at her, confused by the vehemence of her outburst. “I’m… not sure what you’re getting at here.”
She threw up her hands, then shoved them into the pockets of her jeans. Her dark eyes narrowed, and she pulled her raven wings closer to her shoulders as she sat against the edge of the counter.
“There has to be more than just the Fairstraits and you Wainwrights that’re like this. My mom was normal, far’s I know. And yours was too, wasn’t she? But you and I…”
Dill turned from her down to his fries. They were probably getting cold, and would be unappetizing if he let them sit for much longer.
“What use are these damn wings in a world like ours? They draw attention to us and make us freaks. Sometimes I’m not even sure if you and I are really human.”
Dill picked up a fry, considered it, and used it to point, gesturing in a small shrug. He ran his free hand through his hair, a little nervously. “I never really thought about it that much—the reason, that is. We just are like this. That’s all.”
Carnival scoffed.
“Because Ayen and Iril decided it, huh?” She kicked at the table, shaking it. Dill’s empty cup fell over, and he set it upright with a sigh. Carnival’s voice was bitter—it was pointless trying to get her to stifle the violence she felt she had to express. “I’d be fine with there not being a reason. For there being some genetic sneeze a long while back that made us like this.”
(It was in the name she still used for herself, after all.)
“But the thought that there might be some reason is fucking pissing me off.” Carnival’s pale lips formed a tight line, and she kicked the table again. Dill held on to the cup; this time it didn’t overturn.
He wasn’t like Rachel or Alice. He couldn’t tell by listening just what it was she was afraid of. He just knew that something was scaring her.
So Dill chewed his lip and sighed and looked up at her. “Becky—”
She glared at him.
“—Carnival,” he amended. “Do you like to fly?”
She stopped glowering and crossed her arms loosely, her eyes fading from obsidian to slate. “More than just about anything,” she admitted.
Dill shrugged and let go of his cup, considering his fry. “Then isn’t that what really matters?”
A shrug. “…Yeah, I guess.”
Contented, Dill slouched back forward and nibbled the end of his fry. It was still warm.
Carnival reached forward and picked up her cup, shaking it. She sighed and made a face when the ice rattled inside it, then turned to pitch it into a tall trash can a few booths away. She wound a curl of her hair around her fingers, then scratched at the thick scar around her throat.
Finally, she leaned over and took a fistful of Dill’s fries. “Dammit, if you don’t feel like eating those…”
Dill just laughed.