going home
Dec. 10th, 2018 12:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
catwif3rating: g
word count: 1050
fandom: girl genius (oc-centric)
summary: vaska, set perhaps a week or a month after becoming jӓgerkin
originally posted 10/15/15
=================
vaska doesn’t actually remember deciding that she wanted to be a jӓgermonster.
she remembers watching them when they were in town, sweeping through in a rush and rowdy grouping, all sharp points and wide grins, fur and scales and weird, mismatched uniforms. she remembers one of them noticing her as she struggled to climb the wall that was just slightly too tall for her chubby arms, even as big for her age as she’s always been. he’d waggled his claws at her, nudged his taller compatriot until he looked, and both of them flashed her incandescent smiles like half moons made out of teeth. then vaska’s mother had found her and chivvied her along to get washed up for dinner.
she remembers pretending to be a jӓgermonster when she was little. one of her father’s hats always suited, though they were too big for her by far. but that was okay, since in her imagination, she was big, too; tall and toothy and swaggering around the house. mamma giggled for a long time, the first time, calling daddy in to come see his little girl. mamma stopped giggling after the third time she found vaska prowling the yard with the hat seated low over her eyes and her dark curls.
she remembers roughhousing with her brothers twice her size and age, they being only too glad to have an excuse to beat up the bratty little sister some. daddy used to be in the army, though not part of the jӓgermonster regiments, though he’d been retired when vaska was ten or so, only to take up an arguably more dangerous position minioning somewhere in the castle.
vaska is still unsteady with her new strength when she finally has a moment out from her new brothers’ and superior’s eyes to sneak down the alleys of mechanicsburg to where her parents and her littlest half-sisters still live. mamma’s eyes widen when she opens the door, looking up at vaska for a long, fraught moment before she grins what daddy calls her “pirate smile” and yanks vaska through the door with one delicate hand. it takes vaska a moment to realize what was wrong with that: it was more habit than the force exerted that had drawn vaska along with that motion.
“look at hyu,” mamma says. “is this really vaska?” mamma circles like a cat inspecting a new furnishing, smoothing the buttons on vaska’s uniform lapels and tugging on vaska’s tail– gently, but still enough to make vaska jump and have to contain the growl that still feels unfamiliar in her throat.
“right,” mamma says, “none of dat now, vaska rade, hy raised hyu and hy vill pull your silly tail if hy feel like it. hyu shouldn’t let tings like dat startle hyu like dat ennyvay.”
vaska has something smart on the tip of her tongue, she swears, but there’s something about mamma, tiny and beautiful in a way that vaska has never been and yet still whip-strong and commanding– she had sway of vaska’s daddy, and mother, too, when she’d still been around, half-recalled from the vision of being three or four– still not afraid of her now that vaska has survived the jӓgerbrӓu and become one of the most fearsome of the heterodyne constructs. of course, of course mamma isn’t afraid, they’re all good citizens of mechanicsburg, but it’s different when it’s one of your own. vaska’s brothers all have different stories– at least, those that still had families when they took the troth.
“caldor vill be round back if hyu vants to see him, too,” mamma says in the face of vaska’s silence and staring, smiling more gently.
vaska nods, and pads carefully around the table whose chairs she used to stalk between as a child, pretending to be what she has become. the lowering sun stripes through the windows, lighting up vaska’s new gray skin strangely, flashing on her claws as she passes through the kitchen and eases the back door open. she’s not sure if it needs the hinges greased or if it’s her new ears picking up on the squeaking.
daddy is out back, as promised, hunched over his little workbench in their little lot shared with the next house over. he’s fixing something that looks like it probably belongs to the brewery down torment street. daddy hasn’t been the same since that last experiment little master florin had him assisting with a couple years back, and he looks at vaska without recognition at first, like he always does when she has army leave.
“vat does de master vant now?” he asks, which is new. he sits up straighter-- his bulk nearly tips the little stool he’s on backwards-- looking around sharply. “this izn’t de castle,” he adds.
it takes a moment for vaska to figure out– he thinks she’s just another jӓger, here to fetch one of the heterodyne minions. she barks out a laugh before she can help it, traps the rest of it behind her hand.
“naw, daddy,” vaska says, “hyu haz not been doing de minioning for at least a year, remember? dat electricking gots hyu all mixed oop und scrambled effer since, yah?”
“daddy?” he repeats, staring at her motionlessly for a long, long minute. vaska lets him look, raises an eyebrow at him for flair. abruptly he rises, knocking the poor unfortunate stool all the way to the ground this time. “vaska,” he says, pulling her into a bear hug that manages to knock the breath out of her just a little. vaska puts her arms around him and dares to squeeze him back, carefully. he feels smaller, but he isn’t, really– daddy’s still taller than her, still built like a mountain of a man. it’s just that vaska’s even bigger than she used to be, so that her shoulders don’t quite fit under his arms anymore, and her chin ends up on his shoulder instead of ducked down against his collar.
“my leetle gorl is all grown op, now,” daddy whispers.
vaska can’t help the smile that splits her face, teeth slotting into place against her tongue as she feels warm down to her soul, down to the tip of her new, lashing tail.
“yeah, daddy,” she says, “hy am.”
word count: 1050
fandom: girl genius (oc-centric)
summary: vaska, set perhaps a week or a month after becoming jӓgerkin
originally posted 10/15/15
=================
vaska doesn’t actually remember deciding that she wanted to be a jӓgermonster.
she remembers watching them when they were in town, sweeping through in a rush and rowdy grouping, all sharp points and wide grins, fur and scales and weird, mismatched uniforms. she remembers one of them noticing her as she struggled to climb the wall that was just slightly too tall for her chubby arms, even as big for her age as she’s always been. he’d waggled his claws at her, nudged his taller compatriot until he looked, and both of them flashed her incandescent smiles like half moons made out of teeth. then vaska’s mother had found her and chivvied her along to get washed up for dinner.
she remembers pretending to be a jӓgermonster when she was little. one of her father’s hats always suited, though they were too big for her by far. but that was okay, since in her imagination, she was big, too; tall and toothy and swaggering around the house. mamma giggled for a long time, the first time, calling daddy in to come see his little girl. mamma stopped giggling after the third time she found vaska prowling the yard with the hat seated low over her eyes and her dark curls.
she remembers roughhousing with her brothers twice her size and age, they being only too glad to have an excuse to beat up the bratty little sister some. daddy used to be in the army, though not part of the jӓgermonster regiments, though he’d been retired when vaska was ten or so, only to take up an arguably more dangerous position minioning somewhere in the castle.
vaska is still unsteady with her new strength when she finally has a moment out from her new brothers’ and superior’s eyes to sneak down the alleys of mechanicsburg to where her parents and her littlest half-sisters still live. mamma’s eyes widen when she opens the door, looking up at vaska for a long, fraught moment before she grins what daddy calls her “pirate smile” and yanks vaska through the door with one delicate hand. it takes vaska a moment to realize what was wrong with that: it was more habit than the force exerted that had drawn vaska along with that motion.
“look at hyu,” mamma says. “is this really vaska?” mamma circles like a cat inspecting a new furnishing, smoothing the buttons on vaska’s uniform lapels and tugging on vaska’s tail– gently, but still enough to make vaska jump and have to contain the growl that still feels unfamiliar in her throat.
“right,” mamma says, “none of dat now, vaska rade, hy raised hyu and hy vill pull your silly tail if hy feel like it. hyu shouldn’t let tings like dat startle hyu like dat ennyvay.”
vaska has something smart on the tip of her tongue, she swears, but there’s something about mamma, tiny and beautiful in a way that vaska has never been and yet still whip-strong and commanding– she had sway of vaska’s daddy, and mother, too, when she’d still been around, half-recalled from the vision of being three or four– still not afraid of her now that vaska has survived the jӓgerbrӓu and become one of the most fearsome of the heterodyne constructs. of course, of course mamma isn’t afraid, they’re all good citizens of mechanicsburg, but it’s different when it’s one of your own. vaska’s brothers all have different stories– at least, those that still had families when they took the troth.
“caldor vill be round back if hyu vants to see him, too,” mamma says in the face of vaska’s silence and staring, smiling more gently.
vaska nods, and pads carefully around the table whose chairs she used to stalk between as a child, pretending to be what she has become. the lowering sun stripes through the windows, lighting up vaska’s new gray skin strangely, flashing on her claws as she passes through the kitchen and eases the back door open. she’s not sure if it needs the hinges greased or if it’s her new ears picking up on the squeaking.
daddy is out back, as promised, hunched over his little workbench in their little lot shared with the next house over. he’s fixing something that looks like it probably belongs to the brewery down torment street. daddy hasn’t been the same since that last experiment little master florin had him assisting with a couple years back, and he looks at vaska without recognition at first, like he always does when she has army leave.
“vat does de master vant now?” he asks, which is new. he sits up straighter-- his bulk nearly tips the little stool he’s on backwards-- looking around sharply. “this izn’t de castle,” he adds.
it takes a moment for vaska to figure out– he thinks she’s just another jӓger, here to fetch one of the heterodyne minions. she barks out a laugh before she can help it, traps the rest of it behind her hand.
“naw, daddy,” vaska says, “hyu haz not been doing de minioning for at least a year, remember? dat electricking gots hyu all mixed oop und scrambled effer since, yah?”
“daddy?” he repeats, staring at her motionlessly for a long, long minute. vaska lets him look, raises an eyebrow at him for flair. abruptly he rises, knocking the poor unfortunate stool all the way to the ground this time. “vaska,” he says, pulling her into a bear hug that manages to knock the breath out of her just a little. vaska puts her arms around him and dares to squeeze him back, carefully. he feels smaller, but he isn’t, really– daddy’s still taller than her, still built like a mountain of a man. it’s just that vaska’s even bigger than she used to be, so that her shoulders don’t quite fit under his arms anymore, and her chin ends up on his shoulder instead of ducked down against his collar.
“my leetle gorl is all grown op, now,” daddy whispers.
vaska can’t help the smile that splits her face, teeth slotting into place against her tongue as she feels warm down to her soul, down to the tip of her new, lashing tail.
“yeah, daddy,” she says, “hy am.”
