Post by Vyn on Aug 29, 2009 0:51:56 GMT -5
The night after I got Liliana I was struck by a sudden muse and the first drabble was what came of it. lol So, upon realizing it was way under point-worthy, I figured it'd be fun to write a small set of drabbles for the little Lioness that totally devoured my brain with her pushy muse. XD
If they aren't of the highest quality, I apologize. I don't think I've written a single prompt prior to midnight. XD
Family Portrait
Word Count: 279
We were an odd little family in an utterly normal sort of way.
Father was a 10 of Hearts and a proud, honor-bound lion from the Mid-Range. He was easily twice Mother's size and mostly made of muscle, the product of a military upbringing but not quite honorable enough to follow in his own father's footsteps. Instead he took the less self-sacrificing route and trained tykes for the military. He achieved his bipedal form early on in life but rarely used it at home with Mother and I.
Mother was about as opposite from Father as could be.
Mother was a lovely, free-flowing Otter from the Sorgaire Range; a 6 of Hearts who never gained her bipedal form. With a bit of training, as Father often insisted, Mother could've had a dancer's body but instead she was soft and womanly, never heavy but no where near Father's fitness.
She made the most wonderful cookies.
To complete our picture-perfect normality, I should have been the perfect mix of them. I surely looked the part: a little Lioness with Mother's Sorgaire mane. However, the slate-gray base to my coat which Father had been /certain/ was MidRange turned out to be nothing more than an oddity in a pure Sorgaire's coloration. I don't think he ever took that disappointment very well, and the years of my childhood were peppered with the remnants of it.
Oh, please don't get me wrong... I was never treated poorly, and I didn't have a bad childhood. I knew my parents loved me, each in their own ways. It simply makes me laugh to think that all that had stood between 'Daughter' and 'Daddy's Little Girl' was no less than half a region.
Life's Subtle Patterns
Word Count: 288
Disappointment.
She never noticed the telltale signs right away. They came on slowly and discreetly, like cold weaseling into your marrow after a fresh snow. At first you don't notice how cold it's gotten, but with every subtle, chilly breeze you realize that you're shivering more and more often until your teeth were chattering without you ever realizing that the snow had gotten to you.
By then it's too late, you've already been chilled to the marrow and even a fresh batch of Mother's famous cookies would do nothing to chase the chill away.
Father's disappointment was a lot like that.
It came on slowly, in a look or in a subtle comment. Half the time Liliana was certain that he didn't even see the jibe he'd made, most of the time she'd simply become sensitive to the line of thought and had put up her barriers before he'd even opened his mouth.
Within the lost couple months it had gotten worse than ever.
It was Mother who noticed it first. Mother always noticed such little things, things that Liliana had once brushed off as trivial. It was Mother, wonderful and doting Mother, who had finally suggested she take the step that brought her here: to the melting pot of potential opportunities that was the Capital City.
So there she was. A little, home-town girl suddenly miles away from everything she knew and utterly lost in the heart of the City, her head whirling with thoughts of every rumor and myth she'd ever heard of the city, when out of nowhere a little piece of her past came stumbling into her in the form of a young, Mid-Range rat.
Ironic how life falls together in little convenient patterns like that.
A sudden bump in the night...
Word Count: 148
Liliana nearly jumped out of her soft, silvery skin as the trash can outside the kitchen window crashed to the floor. The feline's fur bristled as she tried to fight what could be described as nothing more than irrational paranoia.
Somehow, when you were living by yourself every bump in the night managed to seem bigger and more ominous than ever before.
Slowly the lioness managed to smooth down her fur and remind herself, yet again, that it was merely the raccoons once again. That's what it had been every other evening when she'd rushed to peek out her window at the dimly lit alley stoop and that's exactly what it'd be now.
Raccoons and nothing more.
Somehow the logic of it didn't manage to make her nerves tremble any less, but she slowly managed to fall asleep regardless.
She'd get the hang of this living alone in the big city thing... eventually.
Little Lost Prince
Word Count: 232
The first time she saw him was on a particularly rainy evening as she was leaving the cafe' across from her apartment. Some sweet talking and a few exchanged pastries awarded her with a little affection before they parted ways. Over the following days they met briefly, catching each other's eye as she passed by the cafe on her way home each night.
Everyone at the cafe claimed he was shy, but no one thought he was taken either. Which meant he was all hers, he was far too sweet to be a stray!
Three days later he was waiting outside the cafe for her. A couple cups of tea and a few pastries and his shy exterior crumbled down around him. Really, despite the regal act he put up, he was a ferocious softy on the inside. By the end of the week he'd moved in and she'd named him Prince.
Perhaps it was in part to being thankful for a home, but he was surprisingly well behaved. Nothing at all the like little monsters everyone else portrayed Bandersnatches to be. He didn't make a mess, he didn't bite or scratch... He must've been trained by someone before he'd been abandoned to her care, but if so he didn't seem to know anything than basic etiquette. Which, really, was more than enough for her.
If they aren't of the highest quality, I apologize. I don't think I've written a single prompt prior to midnight. XD
Family Portrait
Word Count: 279
We were an odd little family in an utterly normal sort of way.
Father was a 10 of Hearts and a proud, honor-bound lion from the Mid-Range. He was easily twice Mother's size and mostly made of muscle, the product of a military upbringing but not quite honorable enough to follow in his own father's footsteps. Instead he took the less self-sacrificing route and trained tykes for the military. He achieved his bipedal form early on in life but rarely used it at home with Mother and I.
Mother was about as opposite from Father as could be.
Mother was a lovely, free-flowing Otter from the Sorgaire Range; a 6 of Hearts who never gained her bipedal form. With a bit of training, as Father often insisted, Mother could've had a dancer's body but instead she was soft and womanly, never heavy but no where near Father's fitness.
She made the most wonderful cookies.
To complete our picture-perfect normality, I should have been the perfect mix of them. I surely looked the part: a little Lioness with Mother's Sorgaire mane. However, the slate-gray base to my coat which Father had been /certain/ was MidRange turned out to be nothing more than an oddity in a pure Sorgaire's coloration. I don't think he ever took that disappointment very well, and the years of my childhood were peppered with the remnants of it.
Oh, please don't get me wrong... I was never treated poorly, and I didn't have a bad childhood. I knew my parents loved me, each in their own ways. It simply makes me laugh to think that all that had stood between 'Daughter' and 'Daddy's Little Girl' was no less than half a region.
Life's Subtle Patterns
Word Count: 288
Disappointment.
She never noticed the telltale signs right away. They came on slowly and discreetly, like cold weaseling into your marrow after a fresh snow. At first you don't notice how cold it's gotten, but with every subtle, chilly breeze you realize that you're shivering more and more often until your teeth were chattering without you ever realizing that the snow had gotten to you.
By then it's too late, you've already been chilled to the marrow and even a fresh batch of Mother's famous cookies would do nothing to chase the chill away.
Father's disappointment was a lot like that.
It came on slowly, in a look or in a subtle comment. Half the time Liliana was certain that he didn't even see the jibe he'd made, most of the time she'd simply become sensitive to the line of thought and had put up her barriers before he'd even opened his mouth.
Within the lost couple months it had gotten worse than ever.
It was Mother who noticed it first. Mother always noticed such little things, things that Liliana had once brushed off as trivial. It was Mother, wonderful and doting Mother, who had finally suggested she take the step that brought her here: to the melting pot of potential opportunities that was the Capital City.
So there she was. A little, home-town girl suddenly miles away from everything she knew and utterly lost in the heart of the City, her head whirling with thoughts of every rumor and myth she'd ever heard of the city, when out of nowhere a little piece of her past came stumbling into her in the form of a young, Mid-Range rat.
Ironic how life falls together in little convenient patterns like that.
A sudden bump in the night...
Word Count: 148
Liliana nearly jumped out of her soft, silvery skin as the trash can outside the kitchen window crashed to the floor. The feline's fur bristled as she tried to fight what could be described as nothing more than irrational paranoia.
Somehow, when you were living by yourself every bump in the night managed to seem bigger and more ominous than ever before.
Slowly the lioness managed to smooth down her fur and remind herself, yet again, that it was merely the raccoons once again. That's what it had been every other evening when she'd rushed to peek out her window at the dimly lit alley stoop and that's exactly what it'd be now.
Raccoons and nothing more.
Somehow the logic of it didn't manage to make her nerves tremble any less, but she slowly managed to fall asleep regardless.
She'd get the hang of this living alone in the big city thing... eventually.
Little Lost Prince
Word Count: 232
The first time she saw him was on a particularly rainy evening as she was leaving the cafe' across from her apartment. Some sweet talking and a few exchanged pastries awarded her with a little affection before they parted ways. Over the following days they met briefly, catching each other's eye as she passed by the cafe on her way home each night.
Everyone at the cafe claimed he was shy, but no one thought he was taken either. Which meant he was all hers, he was far too sweet to be a stray!
Three days later he was waiting outside the cafe for her. A couple cups of tea and a few pastries and his shy exterior crumbled down around him. Really, despite the regal act he put up, he was a ferocious softy on the inside. By the end of the week he'd moved in and she'd named him Prince.
Perhaps it was in part to being thankful for a home, but he was surprisingly well behaved. Nothing at all the like little monsters everyone else portrayed Bandersnatches to be. He didn't make a mess, he didn't bite or scratch... He must've been trained by someone before he'd been abandoned to her care, but if so he didn't seem to know anything than basic etiquette. Which, really, was more than enough for her.
