Genesis 116
Sep. 10th, 2006 03:26 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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yrae
Title~ Attitude
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Still mine
Notes~ Genesis 116. Honestly? I just want to SLAP Emon sometimes ><
~ ~ ~
Rumal wiped the tiny trace of blood from the tip of his sword with a cloth, bringing it up to his face to make sure no scratches had been tainted with the red liquid.
‘Nicely done,’ Rau complemented him as he left the circle. ‘He almost had you a couple of times there though.’
Rumal nodded. ‘Yeah, still got a bit of a niggle from when I did my ankle in the other day.’
Rau shook his head. ‘I was referring more to whenever anyone yelled out, “Get that little southern bastard.”’
Rumal paused for barely half a second, but Rau noticed and raised his eyebrows to prove his point. ‘Incidentally, sprained your ankle, not did it in.’
‘Thanks,’ Rumal muttered, shoving his sword into its scabbard.
‘You promised me!’
Both swordsmen cringed at the screeching woman, then glanced back over their shoulder to see the challenger holding a hand to his face, and a petite but nevertheless overbearing woman with hands on hips before him.
‘You promised, Emon! Do you know how much I had been counting on you to win this time?’
‘Ooh,’ Rau breathed in through his teeth, wincing again at the sheer decibels of the little woman.
‘Maybe I should have lost,’ Rumal mumbled as she continued to screech at the poor swordsman.
Rau shook his head. ‘No, this is entertaining. Why is he just taking it?’
The former southerner shrugged and folded his arms. ‘Probably exhausted. I know I couldn’t be bothered arguing with that right now.’
‘Fair point.’
‘I’m leaving you, Emon!’
‘Good,’ Rau mumbled. ‘I wouldn’t want you having any association with the Own anyway.’
The little woman came storming towards them, her shawl fluttering out behind her in the wind like a lion’s mane. She glared at both Own riders with eyes red from tears and anger and looked about to say something, but instead she choked back a sob and pushed between the two of them towards the palace’s back door.
Rumal frowned after her, struggling to remember when he’d seen her before.
The challenger stood in the courtyard, staring after her with an unreadable expression on his face.
Rumal sighed and walked back to him, waving a hand in front of his vacant expression. ‘You can do better, quael.’
Emon shook his head. ‘You’re too good. All of you. I can’t—’
‘No no,’ Rumal interrupted, ‘Well, you could do better sword-wise, but I mean better than her. I’ve seen her around here before.’
Emon frowned in confusion.
‘Wearing a lot less than she is now, coming down from the international guest rooms.’
There was the barest flash of anger in the challenger’s eyes as the realisation crept up on him, but it was soon replaced by self-pity. ‘I think I’d always suspected something.’
Rumal rubbed the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger. Maybe with that kind of attitude, it was best he hadn’t gotten in. ‘You need some confidence, quael. You’ll never get in with that attitude.’
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Still mine
Notes~ Genesis 116. Honestly? I just want to SLAP Emon sometimes ><
Rumal wiped the tiny trace of blood from the tip of his sword with a cloth, bringing it up to his face to make sure no scratches had been tainted with the red liquid.
‘Nicely done,’ Rau complemented him as he left the circle. ‘He almost had you a couple of times there though.’
Rumal nodded. ‘Yeah, still got a bit of a niggle from when I did my ankle in the other day.’
Rau shook his head. ‘I was referring more to whenever anyone yelled out, “Get that little southern bastard.”’
Rumal paused for barely half a second, but Rau noticed and raised his eyebrows to prove his point. ‘Incidentally, sprained your ankle, not did it in.’
‘Thanks,’ Rumal muttered, shoving his sword into its scabbard.
‘You promised me!’
Both swordsmen cringed at the screeching woman, then glanced back over their shoulder to see the challenger holding a hand to his face, and a petite but nevertheless overbearing woman with hands on hips before him.
‘You promised, Emon! Do you know how much I had been counting on you to win this time?’
‘Ooh,’ Rau breathed in through his teeth, wincing again at the sheer decibels of the little woman.
‘Maybe I should have lost,’ Rumal mumbled as she continued to screech at the poor swordsman.
Rau shook his head. ‘No, this is entertaining. Why is he just taking it?’
The former southerner shrugged and folded his arms. ‘Probably exhausted. I know I couldn’t be bothered arguing with that right now.’
‘Fair point.’
‘I’m leaving you, Emon!’
‘Good,’ Rau mumbled. ‘I wouldn’t want you having any association with the Own anyway.’
The little woman came storming towards them, her shawl fluttering out behind her in the wind like a lion’s mane. She glared at both Own riders with eyes red from tears and anger and looked about to say something, but instead she choked back a sob and pushed between the two of them towards the palace’s back door.
Rumal frowned after her, struggling to remember when he’d seen her before.
The challenger stood in the courtyard, staring after her with an unreadable expression on his face.
Rumal sighed and walked back to him, waving a hand in front of his vacant expression. ‘You can do better, quael.’
Emon shook his head. ‘You’re too good. All of you. I can’t—’
‘No no,’ Rumal interrupted, ‘Well, you could do better sword-wise, but I mean better than her. I’ve seen her around here before.’
Emon frowned in confusion.
‘Wearing a lot less than she is now, coming down from the international guest rooms.’
There was the barest flash of anger in the challenger’s eyes as the realisation crept up on him, but it was soon replaced by self-pity. ‘I think I’d always suspected something.’
Rumal rubbed the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger. Maybe with that kind of attitude, it was best he hadn’t gotten in. ‘You need some confidence, quael. You’ll never get in with that attitude.’
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Date: 2006-09-10 06:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-10 06:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-10 08:41 am (UTC)*paddles the pessimist sternly - for his own good, of course*
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Date: 2006-09-10 09:11 am (UTC)*bops Emon also*
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Date: 2006-09-10 10:48 am (UTC)And yes, c'mon Emon. There's being a pessamist, and then there's being you!
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Date: 2006-09-10 11:07 am (UTC)Emon's pessimism is what lost him his spot in the Own that time XP He came SO CLOSE to beating, like, four of them in that whole challenge, but then his thought processes came back and went, 'OMG I'm beating an Own rider =0 I'm not good enough for that! I can't beat an Own ride! This isn't real. It's not happening. I'm not that good~ I suck~ XP *FAILS*'
And then 'narti goes, '.............alksjdghaoieshASDGUIWOETG IDIOT ><'
no subject
Date: 2006-09-10 11:10 am (UTC)