Intertwining Roots (Montaine)

[Minerva Agatha Zipporah]

Tock's fists clenched, her temper riled, and she exploded on the Glassman. "Oy, 'at's what's done wrong wit' the lot o' ya!" she screamed in a fury. "Always done sayin' what 'ow everythin' done been good 'nough 'ow she is! Well she AIN'T good 'nough, an' ya bloody well better listen!" She pounded her fists against his chest in a fit, driving him back into the wall. Her face was red and tears stung at her eyes. "I ain't don't gonna 'as ya dyin' on me what jus' cause ya done wanted fer ta leave well 'nough alone!" she screamed, tears streaming from her eyes. "It ain't fair. Yer SELFISH, Glassman! Nothin' what but a SELFISH BASTARD what ain't thinkin' 'bout no one but 'isself!" She waved a finger in his face, her hand shaking, "Ya can't no come inta my life like 'is an' jus' go dyin' on me, aye? Ya selfish petchin' prick! I ain't gonna letcha! I AIN'T GONNA!" Shaking uncontrollably, she turned and left, grabbing Cutty with one hand, with Handy holding the other end. She stalked off, her other babies falling into step behind her, and she didn't stop until she was home. She kept a brisk pace, not wanting Monty to catch up with her just yet and certain the asthmatic Glassman wouldn't be able to keep up. She fell onto her bed, pulling her sick baby Cutty up with her and clutching him to her chest as she sobbed. His blade bit into her flesh, but she didn't care. She wasn't going to leave well enough alone with him, letting him malfunction even when she had deduced a workaround. She loved him and she was going to make him better, the way she couldn't with Granddad. Her other babies gathered around, programmed to seek her presence. Naily nuzzled at her foot, hanging off the edge of the bed. Bitey crawled up onto her back and nestled in there, while Handy stroked her hair. They wouldn't leave her; they couldn't. She had programmed them to stay, and to obey. That way she wouldn't ever have to be alone again.

[Montaine]

Monty ran after her. Well, he stumbled and staggered after her. He hadn’t been expecting such a volatile response; he hadn’t expected her to get so upset. Selfish, she’d called him selfish for being mortal. The glassworker’s breathing was becoming harsher as she disappeared off into the distance, but he knew where she lived, she couldn’t outrun him forever. It struck him why she was so upset. He knew at least in part the story of her grandfather and how badly his passing had affected her. He didn’t want to seem arrogant but he felt he still had a while yet. Although, judging by the piercing pain in his chest, perhaps not quite as long as he thought. He tried to shout out to her but she was too far gone. He kneaded his chest with a fist and struggled on. His day had started so wonderfully, so blissfully wonderfully, how had it ended so petchingly terrible? He would apologise, he would assuage her doubts as best he could and they would go drinking and laugh and sing and the day could yet be recovered for the better. ‘Oh…’ he muttered, ‘Petch,’ He collapsed. He fell awkwardly, the contact of his arm and hip onto the uneven cobbles of the street sending jolts of pain up his right hand side, only an instinctive shifting of his body as he fell saving his head from the worst of it. He could feel his heart racing, too fast, far too fast, his breathing shallow and rapid, his lungs getting no oxygen, no air, no matter how hard he tried desperately to inhale. The world was going dark, and dumb and all of his senses were ablaze with the agony of his lungs. All that he could hear was the blood pumping through his ears and the far off sound of a woman calling his name. Had the gadgeteer come back? A number of bells later, the glassworker awoke to find himself in a vaguely familiar bed. Breathing was still difficult, still painful, and he could feel his arm throbbing. He turned to look down at it and saw red so he closed his eyes. ‘My idiot boy,’ Dim light returned as his lids opened and revealed his father’s face, black bags under his tired eyes and the reddish hint of crying all around. He tried to speak but found it too painful. Everything he did was painful, breathing had never been so hard, simply seeing hurt his eyes. Tiffan brushed the hair from his son’s face. ‘Lissa found you, and got Ralphy to bring you to the house, your arm was bleeding so I patched it up,’ his voice was so tempered and soft, Monty closed his eyes again, ‘Sleep it off, Monty, a doctor’s coming in the morning to see you, so rest up for now,’ Monty’s mouth relaxed into a smile as he felt the peaceful, painless tendrils of unconsciousness begin to take him away again. He couldn’t remember what had happened and frankly, given the state of his arm, he didn’t particularly think he wanted to. That was a problem for another time, a less painful time. For now, he would sleep. Tiffan Redsun sat and watched. There was something unusual about the boy’s latest attack, he knew it. Perhaps the doctor would be able to shed some light on it in the morning. Until then, he would sit vigil, as he had done so often before, over the boy he loved. Completed

[Paragon]

Adventurer's Loot Minerva's Loot : Minerva Skill XP Reward Bodybuilding +2 Architecture +3 Mathematics +1 Drawing +2 Carpentry +2 Carving +3 Drinking +2 Singing +3 Leadership +1 Lore: Montaine Doesn't Like Horses, Carving Horses, Song: The Drunken Horse, Singing in a Duet, Waiting for the Right Man, Items or Consequences: Nil Montaine's Loot : Montaine Skill XP Reward Observation +1 Drinking +2 Singing +3 Lore: Size Does Not Equate To Fear, A Dream of Glass, Song: The Drunken Horse, Singing in a Duet, Attraction: Tattooed Men, Minerva's Starry-Eyed Man, A Turn for the Worse Items or Consequences: Montaine remains bedridden for several days after this attack Beautiful thread as always from you two, and awesome work with the song. You both write your characters so well, and the dialogue makes me smile, laugh, and scream at the PC screen. Bravo - if you have ANY questions or concerns about this grading, don't hesitate to PM me.