Post by Avice Locke on Dec 31, 2019 5:11:31 GMT -8
Assignment of Christmas: Write an event where your character either saves the holidays, or ruins it. Whatever definition that is for you. 250 word minimum. 1,000 word maximum. Tag @kek in the discord server when ready for judging. Must be done before 01/03/01
One bitter cold night many years ago a young orphan was lighting matches and dreaming within the dancing flame to the warm hugs of a family she has never known. When one match went out she trembled to strike the next everything was wet and frozen around her with the snow coming down hard it took all she had to keep the tiny flame burning. When it reached her fingers I should have burned but she could not tell with the frost bite numbing her fingers. She was growing sleepy in her dreaming of the warmth of a place she wished to be
"Oi!" A girl's voice rang out the winds. Her black hair was messy matted and frosty from the sea breeze sticking to it and the winds freezing it. Her sunken in cheeks were ever prominent odd colored eyes checking the eyes of the more frozen matchstick girl.
"Come on, Yar gonna die out 'ere." Her poor English could barely be heard by the fading girl but Avice insisted.
"Come on!" She jerked her to urge her. The girl saw Avice's feet were bare and nearly black of frost bite. But it was the fangs in her mouth that made the girls heart beat fearful of what those might be for. Avice saw her frost covered lashes widen. "Listen to me Matches... Yar gonna make me carry ya, aye?" She couldn't move even if to run away from the fanged girl. "Fukin' piss." Imagine a child cussing like a sailor. But this frail looking vampire child lifted the frozen girl like a doll. It almost hurt to move her frozen limbs and she silently cried unable to breath or make a noise.
It wasn't long Avice would push open the loose door to where they lived everyone's huddled around the only fire stacked on top of one another sleeping. That was until the blizzard came through and nearly snuffed out the whole flame. In an instant an uproar came from the children and caretakers.
"Ya wretched beast bringin' another stray an I'll give them all Yar food for the rest of Yar days!" The old bag head caretaker would yell grabbing her beating stick ready to wallop Avice good.
"Fine by me!" Avice retorted. And stomped black footed into the drafty hovel they called an orphanage. "Just feed 'er!"
The other caretaker took the girl from Avice and stoked the fire hot again to keep the cold at Bay. Puting the half froze girl up close to thaw her doing as they knew to do but once a pulse might have been felt it... was too late. The girl had died on the way there as she rode Avice's back.
The Younger caretaker looked to Avice this one was more naive than most of the children. "Oh ya tried Yar best deary, her in a better place, Santa brings 'ere gifts an' 'ere family warms 'er telling them 'ow much they missed 'er."
One of the newer orphans started crying. "I want my mum!"
You could see the panic look on the woman's face realizing what she started when more started to cry as well and Avice straight up cold as ice.
"No... Once Yar dead it's over. No families, no warm thin's, no bountiful mountains of food. What's a corpse or a ghost goin' to do with food, aye?" She shook her head. "Ya gotta work and live and live to be free once ya give up Yar forgotten and it's over." It hushed the children and saved the young caretakers some stress.
And yet Avice was still punished thrice as much than usual for her behavior and without food as it went to the other two she saved that night. It was a wonder she herself survived the cold and the frost bite in her toes healed in a day. She worked a cleaning job off by the docks where they gutted fish. She hated the smell and it only paid her a meal but she was able to eat and bring back bones and scraps for a watery broth or stew.
Did she save Christmas? Well they didn't know the meaning of the holiday. As if some jolly big man came from some North Pole to give gifts to children. No... She was just doing what she wanted for the less "lucky" of people. Then again maybe she did receive a gift every year.
She not only survived, healed, and did it again and again... She felt alive while doing it. A spark that gave her the abnormal strength and tensity to keep doing so.
As she grew older and even less naive she lost that heroic spark... But never the strength. Her Qi ignited somewhere on her endeavors and that was a gift or a horrible curse depending on the day and the person. It was something I'm her younger years she took for granted but as age is coming up to her she would appreciate the situations it helped her survive.
To this day as she rocked Derik to sleep she wasn't sure of celebrating Christmas. She wasn't religious and God's were just women and men with gifted powers. Derik was too young to remember her getting him presents right now. More so he was too weak to hold his head up much less rip the paper off boxes. But the lights were on and the music played almost on non-stop repeat. It can be annoying or it could be a simple comfort. It smelled of mint and cinnamon in the air no matter where you are. This was far from what she knew of that old Port off to the edge of the Great Lands.
She simply didn't want for anything from the jolly red man... Well almost.
If she were to wish something, she would wish that he would give the luck she was given throughout the years to her child. For what ever he may do let him be able to have the freedom to keep doing as his heart desires.
One bitter cold night many years ago a young orphan was lighting matches and dreaming within the dancing flame to the warm hugs of a family she has never known. When one match went out she trembled to strike the next everything was wet and frozen around her with the snow coming down hard it took all she had to keep the tiny flame burning. When it reached her fingers I should have burned but she could not tell with the frost bite numbing her fingers. She was growing sleepy in her dreaming of the warmth of a place she wished to be
"Oi!" A girl's voice rang out the winds. Her black hair was messy matted and frosty from the sea breeze sticking to it and the winds freezing it. Her sunken in cheeks were ever prominent odd colored eyes checking the eyes of the more frozen matchstick girl.
"Come on, Yar gonna die out 'ere." Her poor English could barely be heard by the fading girl but Avice insisted.
"Come on!" She jerked her to urge her. The girl saw Avice's feet were bare and nearly black of frost bite. But it was the fangs in her mouth that made the girls heart beat fearful of what those might be for. Avice saw her frost covered lashes widen. "Listen to me Matches... Yar gonna make me carry ya, aye?" She couldn't move even if to run away from the fanged girl. "Fukin' piss." Imagine a child cussing like a sailor. But this frail looking vampire child lifted the frozen girl like a doll. It almost hurt to move her frozen limbs and she silently cried unable to breath or make a noise.
It wasn't long Avice would push open the loose door to where they lived everyone's huddled around the only fire stacked on top of one another sleeping. That was until the blizzard came through and nearly snuffed out the whole flame. In an instant an uproar came from the children and caretakers.
"Ya wretched beast bringin' another stray an I'll give them all Yar food for the rest of Yar days!" The old bag head caretaker would yell grabbing her beating stick ready to wallop Avice good.
"Fine by me!" Avice retorted. And stomped black footed into the drafty hovel they called an orphanage. "Just feed 'er!"
The other caretaker took the girl from Avice and stoked the fire hot again to keep the cold at Bay. Puting the half froze girl up close to thaw her doing as they knew to do but once a pulse might have been felt it... was too late. The girl had died on the way there as she rode Avice's back.
The Younger caretaker looked to Avice this one was more naive than most of the children. "Oh ya tried Yar best deary, her in a better place, Santa brings 'ere gifts an' 'ere family warms 'er telling them 'ow much they missed 'er."
One of the newer orphans started crying. "I want my mum!"
You could see the panic look on the woman's face realizing what she started when more started to cry as well and Avice straight up cold as ice.
"No... Once Yar dead it's over. No families, no warm thin's, no bountiful mountains of food. What's a corpse or a ghost goin' to do with food, aye?" She shook her head. "Ya gotta work and live and live to be free once ya give up Yar forgotten and it's over." It hushed the children and saved the young caretakers some stress.
And yet Avice was still punished thrice as much than usual for her behavior and without food as it went to the other two she saved that night. It was a wonder she herself survived the cold and the frost bite in her toes healed in a day. She worked a cleaning job off by the docks where they gutted fish. She hated the smell and it only paid her a meal but she was able to eat and bring back bones and scraps for a watery broth or stew.
Did she save Christmas? Well they didn't know the meaning of the holiday. As if some jolly big man came from some North Pole to give gifts to children. No... She was just doing what she wanted for the less "lucky" of people. Then again maybe she did receive a gift every year.
She not only survived, healed, and did it again and again... She felt alive while doing it. A spark that gave her the abnormal strength and tensity to keep doing so.
As she grew older and even less naive she lost that heroic spark... But never the strength. Her Qi ignited somewhere on her endeavors and that was a gift or a horrible curse depending on the day and the person. It was something I'm her younger years she took for granted but as age is coming up to her she would appreciate the situations it helped her survive.
To this day as she rocked Derik to sleep she wasn't sure of celebrating Christmas. She wasn't religious and God's were just women and men with gifted powers. Derik was too young to remember her getting him presents right now. More so he was too weak to hold his head up much less rip the paper off boxes. But the lights were on and the music played almost on non-stop repeat. It can be annoying or it could be a simple comfort. It smelled of mint and cinnamon in the air no matter where you are. This was far from what she knew of that old Port off to the edge of the Great Lands.
She simply didn't want for anything from the jolly red man... Well almost.
If she were to wish something, she would wish that he would give the luck she was given throughout the years to her child. For what ever he may do let him be able to have the freedom to keep doing as his heart desires.
