#tocktick

Tagged by @pamsdrabbles

This is a bit more than a last line, but I’m pretty proud of this. Pretty graphic, so be warned!

There was too much blood for him to handle alone.

Sixsmith felt it dripping from his coat, the life-warmth trickling across his fingers, saw it dotting and blotching into the packed earth and he realised, deep somewhere in his gut, that he was scared. But he couldn’t show it, not with Godwin under his hands, not with his eyes wide and breath coming quicker and quicker.

He spoke Taiyeku. It was natural, flowing to his tongue like blood. “We’re alright, we’re alright, we’re alright. Someone’s coming. Someone’s coming.”

A litany. A prayer.

Not for the first time in his long life, Sixsmith wished there was someone – or something – up there. That his Gods hadn’t abandoned them. That his forebearers’ spirits could really step in and do more than nudge aside a bullet or change the wind direction.

Autistic aeronaut and single father, Captain Emmett Askren has a problem.

That problem being that his ship, The Iris has been grounded for the foreseeable future, robbing him of his only source of income and now his debts are due yesterday. He needs a job with a large payment upfront or he and his daughter will be forced into the death-trap sky-harvesters which hang ominously along the coasts of the Sturm Islands.

But then, a miracle. A pair of genius inventors approach him with a proposal: they will pay off Emmett’s debts and repair his home and, in return, he will test their revolutionary new engine in the race of a lifetime. The 1880 Throgmorton Aeronautical Contest is a chance for Emmett to prove himself as both a worthy captain and a productive normal member of society.

However, to race Emmett needs a crew and a whole lot of luck. Besides the inventors, his recruits are the un-hireable, the dregs and outcasts of society. And worse, they have a brought their own baggage and murderous ghosts along for the ride.

Emmett can fly them through any storm, arcane or otherwise, but it is the dangers on the ground which he will struggle to outwit. 

Sixsmith inhaled and then pointed at the balloon. “I could hit that,” he said confidently.

Talas rolled his eyes. “Oh, yes? Prove it.”

“I would if I had bullets –“

“Oh, that is convenient. You never do seem to have the bullets, do you –”

“Convenient? Tally, darlin’, d’you know how a gun works?”

“Probably better than you – and do not call me Tally –“

“Talas! Sixsmith!” Emmett threw up his hands and continued, “You’re both adults. So act like it.” They glared at him. “Please?”

There was some mutinous wordless acknowledgement from both, but as Emmett turned around, he heard:

“It’s a gun, Tally. It’s supposed to have bullets. Whadda ‘m I supposed to do? Throw it at someone’s head?”

“Throw it at your own. Then we all might have some peace –“

“I’ll crack both your heads together in a minute!” Emmett snapped. “Sixsmith, stop riling up Talas. Talas, stop rising to the bait. If not for me ‘cause I’m starting to feel like a schoolteacher, but for my kid. Set an example for Shade's sake.”

Kizzy, the autistic, ADHD, trans man, animal-loving, climbing, reckless, sensory-seeking tween is very, very based off of me as a little kid.

Emmett’s deafness and extreme bookishness and anxiety are also based heavily on me as an adult.

Octavia’s drive is very aspirational. As is Maia’s ability with tailoring and design and Sixsmith’s humour.

Talas, Altan, Nettles, and Scarlett are more character types I enjoy exploring.

3) What song describes your OC?

6) If your OC is in a fantasy setting, what profession would they be in the modern day?

Sixsmith:

3) The War Was in Colour, Carbon Leaf.