Sushi Friday
Aug. 29th, 2008 12:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tanarillJJ and I tag team to produce sushi sometimes. He makes the rice (which is the easy part, because of the rice machine) and and I buy the fish and spicy sauce and seaweed salad and koala yummies. That is the current Plan.
Title: Meditations
Fandom: Prince of Persia: Sands of Time
Rating: G
Warnings: Starting to get really AU outside the realm of PoP:SoT canon. Also, Farah is being slightly herself here.
Farah's good at working with the Sands. She knows this, knows it like she knows the love of her mother and the pride of her father. She wears the Medallion, after all, even if it is only glass and nothing like as valuable as the jewerly she could be wearing, it's also glass made of the Sands of Time, and it only ever glows for those it will protect. When she was little, her father would draw out a little Sand, and she'd pour it back and forth between her hands, watching it glow with rapt fascination as the Medallion blazed around her neck.
But, she thinks, doubled over in the pain of dying and watching as everything that hadn't happened ribbon backward in her mind, she is nothing like the man she thinks of a Kakolukiam.
The Sands of Time don't like anyone, much. Well, of course they can't, they're not alive and certainly there isn't a brain, but . . . Anyway. They don't like her father, but they obey him. They don't like her either, but she's strong and unyielding and got over the fact that they are beautiful a long time ago. Tigers are also beautiful. The Sands obey her because she doesn't give them any other option.
Whereas, for Kakolukiam, they dance.
There are, of course, stories. She's probably the only one who remember them, now that her father is failing and her mother is dead, but they stories go like this: The Sands will, on occasion, obey without coercion, and the people they obey are the ones who blaze though history like comets. They might be wise men or fools, warriors or scholars, men or women; the Sands didn't seem to care, looked for something entirely different and wholly immeasurable. And in Kakolukiam, who was strong enough to bend, that whatever-it-was had been found. The Sands had-
The Sands had tried and tested and chosen a master worthy of that power.
In the here and now, Farah opens her eyes, and plunges the dagger into the Hourglass. It does not take long; the Sands know her well, and the fight is more for show than in any actual hope that she will falter. When she removes the dagger, though, she breathes out in relief. It will take some time for the memories to settle, but already she knows that it's not over. It can't be over, not with him, not between them. Not if the Sands call him master, and call out to him.
He'd given back the dagger. She returns it to its pedestal. Then she leaves the vault to go on her morning run, faltering more than usual because, in this time and this world, she's met the man she loves exactly once and doesn't even know his name.
Her -
It's going to be a lot of work, getting him back.
Her love.
Title: Meditations
Fandom: Prince of Persia: Sands of Time
Rating: G
Warnings: Starting to get really AU outside the realm of PoP:SoT canon. Also, Farah is being slightly herself here.
Farah's good at working with the Sands. She knows this, knows it like she knows the love of her mother and the pride of her father. She wears the Medallion, after all, even if it is only glass and nothing like as valuable as the jewerly she could be wearing, it's also glass made of the Sands of Time, and it only ever glows for those it will protect. When she was little, her father would draw out a little Sand, and she'd pour it back and forth between her hands, watching it glow with rapt fascination as the Medallion blazed around her neck.
But, she thinks, doubled over in the pain of dying and watching as everything that hadn't happened ribbon backward in her mind, she is nothing like the man she thinks of a Kakolukiam.
The Sands of Time don't like anyone, much. Well, of course they can't, they're not alive and certainly there isn't a brain, but . . . Anyway. They don't like her father, but they obey him. They don't like her either, but she's strong and unyielding and got over the fact that they are beautiful a long time ago. Tigers are also beautiful. The Sands obey her because she doesn't give them any other option.
Whereas, for Kakolukiam, they dance.
There are, of course, stories. She's probably the only one who remember them, now that her father is failing and her mother is dead, but they stories go like this: The Sands will, on occasion, obey without coercion, and the people they obey are the ones who blaze though history like comets. They might be wise men or fools, warriors or scholars, men or women; the Sands didn't seem to care, looked for something entirely different and wholly immeasurable. And in Kakolukiam, who was strong enough to bend, that whatever-it-was had been found. The Sands had-
The Sands had tried and tested and chosen a master worthy of that power.
In the here and now, Farah opens her eyes, and plunges the dagger into the Hourglass. It does not take long; the Sands know her well, and the fight is more for show than in any actual hope that she will falter. When she removes the dagger, though, she breathes out in relief. It will take some time for the memories to settle, but already she knows that it's not over. It can't be over, not with him, not between them. Not if the Sands call him master, and call out to him.
He'd given back the dagger. She returns it to its pedestal. Then she leaves the vault to go on her morning run, faltering more than usual because, in this time and this world, she's met the man she loves exactly once and doesn't even know his name.
Her -
It's going to be a lot of work, getting him back.
Her love.
