wintersday (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wintersday) wrote2022-05-29 11:27 pm
wintersday) wrote2022-05-29 11:27 pm
Fic: A Story With No Conflict
Title: A Story With No Conflict
Fandom: Fallen London
Major Characters/Pairings: Player Character, the Disembarked Deviless
Wordcount: 200
Rating: PG
POV: Second person
Summary: There is no danger here.
You feel the heat of the Disembarked Deviless’s hands through her gloves as she takes each curio from you, but the cold rushes back when she steps away. Your own gloves are already frosted white. Snow hangs in the air, crystalline, unfalling in the gap between seconds, and when you blink, you do not know:
How Hell’s engineers never came to an ice-rimed castle on the underside of a frozen lake, seeking what power they could wring from it. How the Stewards did not stand aside to let them pass, and the Anchoress in her chamber did not smile in knowing welcome.
There is nothing for you here, she did not say, nor could her words be turned about.
Nothing is here for you. Nothing watches. Nothing waits. It does not crouch like a predator, nor curl like a cat in an old woman’s lap. And nothing here is dangerous. There is no power, only cold, stillness, silence, absence.
At the edge of your vision, small beside the stones, the Deviless studies her prizes. She is so much younger than this place, and you wonder if you should warn her.
Hell’s engineers never came here. And they did not return.
Fandom: Fallen London
Major Characters/Pairings: Player Character, the Disembarked Deviless
Wordcount: 200
Rating: PG
POV: Second person
Summary: There is no danger here.
You feel the heat of the Disembarked Deviless’s hands through her gloves as she takes each curio from you, but the cold rushes back when she steps away. Your own gloves are already frosted white. Snow hangs in the air, crystalline, unfalling in the gap between seconds, and when you blink, you do not know:
How Hell’s engineers never came to an ice-rimed castle on the underside of a frozen lake, seeking what power they could wring from it. How the Stewards did not stand aside to let them pass, and the Anchoress in her chamber did not smile in knowing welcome.
There is nothing for you here, she did not say, nor could her words be turned about.
Nothing is here for you. Nothing watches. Nothing waits. It does not crouch like a predator, nor curl like a cat in an old woman’s lap. And nothing here is dangerous. There is no power, only cold, stillness, silence, absence.
At the edge of your vision, small beside the stones, the Deviless studies her prizes. She is so much younger than this place, and you wonder if you should warn her.
Hell’s engineers never came here. And they did not return.