Just Another Blog

my random ramblings about crafts, writing, books and kids

Archive for the tag “violetta mondarev”

Uncalled For Actions (7/?)

Days 43 – 49 of the experiment.

gg_uncalledforactions

[PARTS 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 ]


The soldiers filed out after them, most setting off in different directions while two took up guard positions on either side of the office door. Gil turned towards the summit room where he could hear the curious voices of the other attendants but his father’s grip nearly stole his breath, forcing him in another direction.

“But the meeting,” Gil protested as he was guided down another hall with guards now stationed every ten meters.

“Barkley will be assisting for the rest of the day.”

“But-”

They turned the corner to the guest wing, one of their attendants seeing them coming and opening the door. The Baron shoved Gil into the room; Gil nearly tripping over his feet. He stumbled into a settee then spun just as his father released his pent up disgust.

“What were you thinking?” His voice hit octaves Gil had never heard before.

He swallowed hard. “I didn’t do anything wrong. You said-”

His father grabbed his hands roughly, pulling them up his face. “This says otherwise.”

Gil glanced at his raw knuckles, two spit and bleeding–or maybe that was Tarvek’s blood–then quickly found something else to stare at.

His father dropped his hands in annoyance. “What do you have to say for yourself?” Read more…

Uncalled For Actions (6/?)

Days 36 – 42 of the experiment.

gg_uncalledforactions

[PARTS 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 ]


Her heart thrummed in her head as she tore through the castle using every secret passage she knew.

It drowned out all other sounds including her labored breathing and her feet slamming against the polished stone floor which also meant she didn’t hear Martellus gaining on her until it was too late. His arm reached around her middle, lifting her right off the floor as she kicked and flailed.

“You little brat,” he hissed in her ear, breath hot and stale from running. “Give me the bottle, Violetta, and we’ll pretend none of this happened.

“Why? What are you going to use it for?”

Martellus laughed. “Why would I tell you that? So you can go tattle to Tarvek. They’re so cute at this age.” He tweaked her nose just as the other two idiots trotted up, breathing hard from their snail’s pace jog.

“Get rid of her, Tweedle,” Orrik said, “she knows too much already.”

Violetta struggled harder, twisting every direction, but Martellus’ grip iron, and the more she fought, the tighter he squeezed her until she couldn’t catch her breath.

“I’m not going to have to do that, now am I, Vi? You’re going to be a good girl and hand over the bottle and not tell anyone about this and then we’re all going to go on our merry way, right?”

She glared over her shoulder at him but knew her options were limited so she calmed her struggles until he relaxed his grip some.

“Good girl, I knew-”

Then she bit his hand until she tasted blood. Martellus screamed, dropping Violetta who landed in a full run, tossing a smoke bomb behind her for good measure. Read more…

Uncalled For Actions (5/?)

Days 29 – 35 of the experiment.

gg_uncalledforactions

[PARTS 1 | 2 | 3 | 4]


About half a dozen emotions flitted across Tweedle’s face at that news before he settled back to his barely contained rage.

Gil refused to back down for the obvious intimidation tactic he knew well from his childhood. He brought himself up to his full height which was still nearly a head shorter than Tweedle, chin held high and a practiced, indifferent expression plastered on his face.

Finally, Tweedle stepped out of Gil’s personal space and dusted the front of Gil’s jacket like he was straightening out the wrinkles Gil had already fixed. “The Baron, you say? I heard a rumor about you.”

Gil cocked one eyebrow under his fringe of bangs and crossed his arms over his chest. “Which one?”

“That you’re the orphaned son of homicidal Sparks that went on a rampage, and the only reason you’re an apprentice is the Baron feels sorry for you.”

Gil wanted to laugh–as if his father would give such an important job to someone out of pity. Instead, he shrugged as if the words didn’t bring back loathsome memories. “Close enough.”

As expected from habitual bullies, Tweedle looked even more annoyed that he didn’t get a rise out of Gil, but he recovered quickly. He took two menacing steps towards Gil and shoved a finger in his face. “Baron or no, I don’t care who you are, if I catch you around my sister again-”

Seffie interrupted him with a swat on the back of his head. “Martellus, no. Bad brother.” Read more…

Uncalled for Actions (3/?)

Days 15-21 of the sentences experiment. Still going strong.

gg_uncalledforactions

[PART: 1 | 2]


Ten-year-old Violetta Mondarev prowled around the edges of the central courtyard of Sturmhalten Castle, keeping to the shadows, watching the parade of dignitaries from all over the Empire, and catching snippets of conversation as Tarvek had ordered. She bit back a curse she’d heard some of the older Smoke Knights using when talking about the self-serving, conceited Madboys they worked for and what they thought of their orders.

She shook her head–Tarvek wasn’t really like that, she reminded herself. Sure, they disagreed and he reprimanded her when she mouthed off, but of all their family, only he ever showed an ounce of respect towards her, and that was what ensured her loyalty above the solemn oaths she was forced to take–he was a prat, but he was a reasonable prat.

Violetta scurried up a tree in the corner and hid among its branches to get a better view. Spring had barely arrived, and although buds had begun to sprout, a bitter wind whipped down from the mountains, fluttering her bangs into her eyes. She could easily tell those raised in the lower elevations–they were the ones bundled in furs and multiple wool overcoats, hats with ear-flaps and lined, leather gloves. They were soft compared to the natives of Balan’s Gap and the surrounding mountains, two of which suddenly appeared at the open window next to her perch. Read more…

Uncalled for Actions (2/?)

Days 8-14 of the sentences experiment.

gg_uncalledforactions

[PART 1]


When Tarvek made no comment, Violetta shifted her weight nervously. “Do you really think something bad is going to happen?”

“With the various branches of our family involved, it’s almost a given.” He removed his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. “Just keep your eyes open and stay out of sight, okay?“

Violetta didn’t answer, and when he replaced his glasses, he found himself alone again. She was getting good. She was going to need to be better.

* * *

The deck shuddered slightly as the steam winches kicked in, slowly tugging the airship closer to the landing tower of Sturmhalten Castle. The castle itself looked like the dozen others Gil had visited in the months since officially becoming the Baron’s apprentice, if not a little more war-torn–almost as if the residents failed to repair the century’s old scars of battle as a matter of pride. Knowing what he did of the Storm King myths, it probably wasn’t far from the truth.

“Gilgamesh,” the Baron called without looking up from his paper, “stop fidgeting.“

Gil winced, dropping his hands to his sides before he worried the buttons right off his new greatcoat–a habit he thought abandoned years ago. It was this place–Sturmhalten and all it represented–that was twisting his insides into knots. “I knew this was a bad idea,” he mumbled to his reflection in the porthole. Read more…

Girl Genius fic: Uncalled For Actions (1/?)

Here’s the first post of my sentences experiment which ended up being all in one story. I’m posting a compilation of the first seven days of sentences. So far, it’s going well.


gg_uncalledforactionsWhen Gilgamesh Holzfäller is fourteen, he’s taken on as an apprentice to Baron Wulfenbach as part of a program to produce the next generation of leaders in the Empire–a group that will hopefully get along (although most see this as wishful thinking on the Baron’s part).

He’s learned a lot over the months of shadowing the Baron, but nothing has prepared him for his most challenging assignment: confronting the skeletons in his closet.


“I’m telling you,” Gil said through clenched teeth, “this is a really bad idea.”

The Baron regarded him over the edge of the newspaper he read with a withering stare. “Please sit down, you’re agitating the Jägers.”

Across the room, a couple of Jäger guards snickered to each other. Gil glared then crossed his arms, staring out the porthole–pointedly not sitting. The Baron went back to reading his paper with a rustling flourish, the Jägers continued to giggle and Gil pouted as Sturmhalten grew large on the horizon.

* * *

Tarvek watched from his window as the great Wulfenbach airship docked with the tower across the castle. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle a moment before he smelled Anevka’s perfume flutter in ahead of her.

“That’s sure a big one, isn’t it?” she said, leaning against the other side of the window.

Tarvek huffed at her terrible incorrectness–this was nothing compared to Castle Wulfenbach.

“So, how much of a disaster do you expect this farce to be,” his sister asked with humor in her eyes.

“Unmitigated,” Tarvek answered flatly as the stewards ran around the roof opposite of them, tying off the airship. It was almost showtime.

“Oh, come now, baby brother, I thought this was your thing–politics and intrigue-”

“Members of the Fifty Families under one roof with the Baron–this is a nightmare.”

“Always the optimist,” Anevka said with a sigh, patting his cheek affectionately. Tarvek slapped her hand away, and she left–her tinkling laugh following behind.

Across the courtyard, the airship was finally secured and the gangplank clanked down with a hiss of steam that matched the puff of Tarvek’s breath against the cool windowpane.

“I know you’re there,” he said suddenly to the silent room.

From the shadows, the small girl materialized, her wild red hair held in place by a golden headband. “Not fair,” she said, lip out in a pout.

Tarvek ignored her petulance. “Report.”

Violetta glared at him a moment longer–probably considering if she could get away with murder at the age of ten, he imagined–but eventually snapped to attention. “The castle is at capacity; we await only the Baron and his en- entou- entourage.”

Tarvek smiled at his reflection as she tripped over the new word he’d taught her earlier in the day. “How full are we talking?”

“Not including the castle residents and staff, fifty-four delegates of the Fifty families, their apprentices, 270 attendants, and about a hundred Smoke Knights.”

[PART 2]

Post Navigation

%d bloggers like this: