
04-25-2007, 07:00 AM
List: Em's Mostly Random Word Generator List #1
Number: 80. Win
Story of Origin: Imperium
Character(s): Ruga, Raal, Ria
Warnings: None.
Use: Miscellany
Scenario: Ria, Ruga, and Raal are triplets.
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Ruga lay sprawled out on the yard and imagined he could feel the worms and the insects crawling over and possessing him. He was the dirt, and they were eating him to make him into good soil. Above him, he had a clear view of the perfect cloudy sky.
Until Raal's face came into view. His brother reached out a hand for him.
"You win again," Ruga told him, unmoving.
Raal, not caring, said, "It's not a competition," and grabbed Ruga by the arm. He pulled Ruga up and released him only when he was sure Ruga was standing.
From the backyard of their house they had a clear view of the countryside stretching unbroken for miles. Trees, hills, and eventually the ocean where their sister liked to fish and play in the waves. Ria never called it playing, of course. She was much too old for that. They all were. Instead, she called it turning. Turning with the waves. Listening to their old-men voices.
Raal waited for his brother to end the reverie. "We should go inside," he said. Always the practical one, Raal. While Ria played at her mysticism and Ruga was lost in his own mind for hours, Raal lived in what he was doing. Sometimes his other two siblings thought he had nothing in his head but mechanics, his actions governed by rote programming. Raal started to move inside.
"Again," said Ruga. Raal paused, but did as his brother commanded. He always did what Ruga wanted.
Again Ruga was laid down, stretched out on the ground as if crucified, his gaze skyward. Again Raal set him to his feet, and again Ruga told him, "You win."
"Let's go inside."
"No." Ruga found the stick in the tall grass and brought it back, its wood smoothed from years of practice, oiled by human skin and human sweat. He assumed the position. "Don't let me win."
Raal obeyed his brother, beating him squarely. Ruga imagined he was a stone slab upon which thousand of lives had been sacrificed, and their blood stained his gaze skyward. It was his own blood getting in his eye.
Raal did not move to help him, shamed at the gash on his brother's forehead. It was a mere flesh wound, but cuts on the head always bled the worst.
"Help me up," said Ruga, and Raal shuffled forward to comply. He reached down, and Ruga bit him and pulled. Raal came tumbling down on top of Ruga. "I win," said Ruga, and Raal did not object.
Ruga could hear their sister's voice in his head, and she was laughing. You both lose.
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