kitnoki

A Day at Customs or A Pleasant Conversation Kanaya: Male. A middle aged bureaucrat, wearing glasses. Inna: A woman. A ship's captain, mid 20s, tired looking. Soldier: A soldier. Male, same age as Inna or younger. The stage is set with a long desk. There is a bookshelf and a large chair behind it, and a small chair is in front of it. (Kanaya sits in the large chair with two folders, side by side, looking them both over. He stops a moment, puts something in one, and nods, smiling.  There is a knocking sound. Kanaya hastily closes the folders, puts them away, and opens another folder, reading it intently.) Kanaya Come in. (Inna enters from

       The sea air was simultaneously harsh and refreshing, the salt spray scrubbing her face , Deepening some lines, and washing others away. When she pulled into port, the masts of her small ship would be up and she would be just another captain.       Not the fastest watercraft in the known world. Not a world famous criminal. Not the savior of the revolution Not the Ghost of Kalin.       Just a captain.       The bustle of the port was like the salt air, harsh and refreshing. The black iron rigs tramped up and down the dock, their pilots  using the clanking machines to unload  the boats. Shipsmen bustled about, helping unload, gathering

       The sea was a harsh mistress, wind blowing in her face, ripping her breath from her as she stood on deck. The others were below when the Engine was engaged, but she know she had to be here, to see the sea when the others hid. To understand the sea, she knew she had to see her at both her best and worst, both hers and the seas. Today she felt good, contemplative. Understanding, perhaps even wistful. The sea, even in its worst of moods could provide answers, she knew. Yesterday had been different.       The Engine couldn't be used so close to the empire's boats, not without giving them away, and the Sea had taken her ships sails and  pr

Promises       “One more thing, before you go?”       Inara calmed her face and turned to size up the business man. He was whip thin, with an angular face. Cold silver eyes gleamed over a well trimmed mustache, and he rested his hands lightly on his desk.       “Yes? Only one?”       He gave a shy smile, knowing his words had caught him, but his hands still stayed on his desk. He had been caught, but he thought he yet had a way out.       “Many things stem from but one,” his shy smile turned sharp, “little Johnny girl”       Johnny, a crude term for Zhan He. Her secret heritage. She tried

Paths in a Wood       Forest sun sparkled on Little Deer’s face as he worked his way through the forest.  He picked his strides with an easy familiarity as he listened to the earth around him.  He circled a tree, noticing it for only a second. The big one with the lightning scar down the north east side, that would be Fierce Lion’s hunting territory. She would likely be stalking elk from it today, scanning the ground below with spear at the ready.       The cubs, Wind and Moon, giggled as Little Deer passed, peeking out at him with green berries smeared around their mouths. Little Deer ignored them and hopped the river as it b

A Day at the Harbour       Barton Harbour was always a busy town, a port from the wilderness of New Cambria back to the civilized Cambrian realm, but never so busy as today. Today a caravan of minerals and Oldmantium crystals had arrived, reaching the port town after a trek from the great interior deserts and through the savage forests that lined the coast. Stately Cambrian merchant marine ships rested at dock, ready to take the  goods. A single small boat was docked alongside the merchants, ragged and torn, missing it’s main mast. Imperial warships, with cannons glinting in the midmorning sun, circled like wolves, protecting the merch

Speak Up I was scared to Death,       I was scared to Death but,       he wouldn't have me. He wouldn't have me, and I wondered why.       I wondered why, but       Never how. But never how, because How isn’t the question.       How isn't the question asked, though       You hear it often. You hear it often, feeling Words tripping into your ears.       Words tripping into your ears, clumsily       Stumbling their way into thoughts. Stumbling their way into thoughts, Before Flying out of the mouth.       Flying out of the mouth, unbidden       To do more harm than good. To do more harm than good, I open my mouth to s

Rainfall        The wind was blowing again. The summers in the stifling ocean plains of South Carolina were known for their thunderstorms, which marched across the old cities and grassy country like armies. Storms and war had long flowed over the south, nearly indistinguishable. Cannon had thundered, storms clashed endlessly. Both could be small or large, but were always packed with drama. This storm was no different. The thunderhead blotted out the afternoon sun, making the sky the color of a bruise, but no less hot for the shade. The wind blew outside, harsh and screaming, but I did not hear it.       I was saved, from the noise at least