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rainbowfic2015-01-16 09:56 pm
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2015-01-16 09:56 pm
Alice Blue #9, Cinnabar #2, Patriarch Purple #11
Name: shadowsong26
Story: Pranks
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Alice Blue #9. everything is funny, if you can laugh at it, Cinnabar #2. Gold, Patriarch Purple #11. friend
Supplies and Materials: photography, eraser (In SPACE AU), fabric, modeling clay, pastels (my current gen + romance card O5 "innocent")
Word Count: 371
Rating: G
Characters: Nellid, Isshiri
Warnings: Children in hospitals, oblique references to Isshiri's amputation
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. Nellid is one of Sorell and Nida's children; he dies in infancy in canon but gets to live in a couple AUs.
There were times when Nellid thought he might have bit off more than he could chew, letting himself get attached to Isshiri Heidari.
Not for the politics of it, though that wasn't exactly easy, given their respective parents' prominent political rivalry. But...
Okay, so, Nellid had been volunteering at the clinic for a good two years when he met Isshiri. He'd played with all kinds of kids of all ages, and he had never met one as easily bored--or as creative--as this one seven-year-old.
Everything he did was more or less harmless, at least. The second time Nellid visited him, he'd found a mostly-amused, if mildly exasperated, staff patiently cleaning spectacular handlebar mustaches off of all the donor portraits in the lobby.
The next time, he'd somehow managed to fill the front office with helium balloons while no one was looking--naturally, he'd kept one for himself and had assembled quite an audience to listen to him squeak like a chipmunk for close to an hour.
After that, he'd somehow managed to rig a party popper full of confetti to go off when the light was turned on. In every singled public room of the facility.
Nellid was torn between amusement, pity for the staff, and being damned impressed that the kid was this creative and resourceful even here, even now. He could only imagine trying to keep up with him before his accident. And he had no earthly idea how the kid was even pulling all of this off.
Or, at least, not until today. When Isshiri's eyes went wide and pleading, because he couldn't get close enough to the clinic's director, and of course she needed to have the triumphal march from Aida playing whenever she entered a room, and all Nellid had to do was drop the sensor in her pocket, and everyone would laugh, and be happy, and...
That child, Nellid thought, as he absently flirted with one of the nurses while waiting for the director to make an appearance, is going to rule the world someday. Or possibly blow it up.
Either way, he was pretty sure he was in for a hell of a ride with this one.
A/N: The march in question.
Story: Pranks
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Alice Blue #9. everything is funny, if you can laugh at it, Cinnabar #2. Gold, Patriarch Purple #11. friend
Supplies and Materials: photography, eraser (In SPACE AU), fabric, modeling clay, pastels (my current gen + romance card O5 "innocent")
Word Count: 371
Rating: G
Characters: Nellid, Isshiri
Warnings: Children in hospitals, oblique references to Isshiri's amputation
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. Nellid is one of Sorell and Nida's children; he dies in infancy in canon but gets to live in a couple AUs.
There were times when Nellid thought he might have bit off more than he could chew, letting himself get attached to Isshiri Heidari.
Not for the politics of it, though that wasn't exactly easy, given their respective parents' prominent political rivalry. But...
Okay, so, Nellid had been volunteering at the clinic for a good two years when he met Isshiri. He'd played with all kinds of kids of all ages, and he had never met one as easily bored--or as creative--as this one seven-year-old.
Everything he did was more or less harmless, at least. The second time Nellid visited him, he'd found a mostly-amused, if mildly exasperated, staff patiently cleaning spectacular handlebar mustaches off of all the donor portraits in the lobby.
The next time, he'd somehow managed to fill the front office with helium balloons while no one was looking--naturally, he'd kept one for himself and had assembled quite an audience to listen to him squeak like a chipmunk for close to an hour.
After that, he'd somehow managed to rig a party popper full of confetti to go off when the light was turned on. In every singled public room of the facility.
Nellid was torn between amusement, pity for the staff, and being damned impressed that the kid was this creative and resourceful even here, even now. He could only imagine trying to keep up with him before his accident. And he had no earthly idea how the kid was even pulling all of this off.
Or, at least, not until today. When Isshiri's eyes went wide and pleading, because he couldn't get close enough to the clinic's director, and of course she needed to have the triumphal march from Aida playing whenever she entered a room, and all Nellid had to do was drop the sensor in her pocket, and everyone would laugh, and be happy, and...
That child, Nellid thought, as he absently flirted with one of the nurses while waiting for the director to make an appearance, is going to rule the world someday. Or possibly blow it up.
Either way, he was pretty sure he was in for a hell of a ride with this one.
A/N: The march in question.