350 word drabble: Rising Steam
Jan. 21st, 2011 12:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
attackfishWritten for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
avatar_500 prompt #18, Cut.
Summary: Seeing isn't believing.
Rising Steam
“Come on, come on!” he groaned at his freedom fighters. “They’ll be here soon.” She left him hanging from the tree like a lemon-plum, waiting for the Fire Nation soldiers to cut him down. He clenched his hands into fists, his fingers numb with cold from the ice all around them.
Smellerbee slammed the curved head of Jet’s sword into the ice over his chest in frustration. It bounced off, vibrating in her hand with the blow. “Calm down, Jet! We’re going as fast as we can.”
He growled and banged his head back against the tree. “Then just get out of here!” He could hear the soldiers clanking closer.
“Jet-”
“Leave!” he hissed, and the ice hissed off him, sizzling off his skin. He fell to the ground. The steam curled in the air above him. He could taste the metalic heat on his tongue, and feel the crackle of sparks as they died.
His freedom fighters backed away. Jet’s eyeballs strained against the confines of his skull. “That wasn’t- I’m not-”
He wasn’t. He never had been. This was just something that happened sometimes. It didn’t mean anything.
They kept backing away.
He watched them slip into the shadows under the trees and picked himself up.
~*~
He felt a tap on his shoulder, and he spun around, reaching for his hook swords, but he didn’t have them.
Longshot gazed at him somberly when Jet. Jet saw him and heaved a sigh. He wasn’t all alone. Longshot glanced down at Smellerbee, holding up the swords. He took them and hung them from his belt. “Thanks.”
His eyes roved over the empty tree houses. His freedom fighters weren’t there, to listen to him, or fight him. They were just... gone.
“They didn’t see what they thought they saw,” Smellerbee said sharply.
Longshot put his hand on Jet’s shoulder.
Jet nodded. “They didn’t.” He could still taste the sparks.
~*~
Jet slung a sack over his shoulder and grabbed the treehouse ladder. “Let’s go.”
Smellerbee sheathed her dagger. “Where?”
“Ba Sing Se.” Where everyone else running from the Fire Nation was going.
avatar_500 prompt #18, Cut.Summary: Seeing isn't believing.
Rising Steam
“Come on, come on!” he groaned at his freedom fighters. “They’ll be here soon.” She left him hanging from the tree like a lemon-plum, waiting for the Fire Nation soldiers to cut him down. He clenched his hands into fists, his fingers numb with cold from the ice all around them.
Smellerbee slammed the curved head of Jet’s sword into the ice over his chest in frustration. It bounced off, vibrating in her hand with the blow. “Calm down, Jet! We’re going as fast as we can.”
He growled and banged his head back against the tree. “Then just get out of here!” He could hear the soldiers clanking closer.
“Jet-”
“Leave!” he hissed, and the ice hissed off him, sizzling off his skin. He fell to the ground. The steam curled in the air above him. He could taste the metalic heat on his tongue, and feel the crackle of sparks as they died.
His freedom fighters backed away. Jet’s eyeballs strained against the confines of his skull. “That wasn’t- I’m not-”
He wasn’t. He never had been. This was just something that happened sometimes. It didn’t mean anything.
They kept backing away.
He watched them slip into the shadows under the trees and picked himself up.
~*~
He felt a tap on his shoulder, and he spun around, reaching for his hook swords, but he didn’t have them.
Longshot gazed at him somberly when Jet. Jet saw him and heaved a sigh. He wasn’t all alone. Longshot glanced down at Smellerbee, holding up the swords. He took them and hung them from his belt. “Thanks.”
His eyes roved over the empty tree houses. His freedom fighters weren’t there, to listen to him, or fight him. They were just... gone.
“They didn’t see what they thought they saw,” Smellerbee said sharply.
Longshot put his hand on Jet’s shoulder.
Jet nodded. “They didn’t.” He could still taste the sparks.
~*~
Jet slung a sack over his shoulder and grabbed the treehouse ladder. “Let’s go.”
Smellerbee sheathed her dagger. “Where?”
“Ba Sing Se.” Where everyone else running from the Fire Nation was going.
