Dragon Journal (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dragonjournal) wrote2012-02-10 11:26 am
dragonjournal) wrote2012-02-10 11:26 am
Entry tags:
Orig Fic Bingo #3
Title: Her Nemesis
Fandom or Original Universe: Original
Rating: G
Word Count: 484
Brief Summary: A woman faces down her nemesis
Brief Warnings: None
Writing Prompt: Tower
Beta: None
Notes: None
Her nemesis. She craned her head back and stared upwards. The sun pierced into her eyes and sweat ran down her cheeks. Carol blinked rapidly and licked her lips, tasting the salt water beaded there. Her hands flexed and she took a deep breath.
“Martins!”
She flinched at the bellow. Her spine stiffened and she turned around with a sharp salute. Tendrils of hair had escaped the sharp bun and were plastered against her cheeks. The afternoon sun beat down on her. It was supposed to be her day off. A day of leave, granted because her squad had scored the highest on the range a week ago.
However, she hadn’t left. The rest of her squad was either off base or catching up on the sleep they never got. She’d gotten up at reveille and been working since then. Carol knew what her shortcomings were. Almost too short and too light to qualify, she’d struggled to keep up with even the other women. Her PT times were always at the low end of acceptable, even if everything else was above average.
If she didn’t improve, she’d have to go home. If she didn’t improve, they’d drum her out and she’d get on a bus or a plane and have to admit to her father that she hadn’t had what it took to do this.
Carol was not about to do that.
Her drill sergeant stalked up to her, scowling. “What the hell are you doing here, Martins?”
“Training, drill sergeant!” The answer was swift. She’d been working so long she couldn’t feel her arms or legs. The calluses on her hands were rubbed raw and the blisters on her feet had probably broken and rubbed raw yet again.
None of that mattered. None. She’d do this. She was going to do this.
“You trying to prove yourself better than everyone else, Martins?”
“No drill sergeant!”
In all honesty, she just didn’t want to be last any longer. To not be the last one staggering in after a run, or a hike wasn’t, exactly, a noble goal, but it was something she could aim for.
“Isn’t this your day off, recruit?”
“Yes drill sergeant!”
It was her day off, but she didn’t want to go into town. She got plenty of sleep. This was more important than anything else she could be doing. Carol’s gut clenched in icy fear. Was the drill sergeant going to make her leave? Was she going to get sent back to the barracks and told to stop?
“Carry on, Martins.” The drill sergeant turned away, barking orders at someone else.
Carol stared after him for a moment. She licked her lips. Then she turned back around and looked up again. This time, she didn’t hesitate. A running start and her hands gripped the net that they had to climb.
Today, she’d defeat the tower, not the other way around.
Fandom or Original Universe: Original
Rating: G
Word Count: 484
Brief Summary: A woman faces down her nemesis
Brief Warnings: None
Writing Prompt: Tower
Beta: None
Notes: None
Her nemesis. She craned her head back and stared upwards. The sun pierced into her eyes and sweat ran down her cheeks. Carol blinked rapidly and licked her lips, tasting the salt water beaded there. Her hands flexed and she took a deep breath.
“Martins!”
She flinched at the bellow. Her spine stiffened and she turned around with a sharp salute. Tendrils of hair had escaped the sharp bun and were plastered against her cheeks. The afternoon sun beat down on her. It was supposed to be her day off. A day of leave, granted because her squad had scored the highest on the range a week ago.
However, she hadn’t left. The rest of her squad was either off base or catching up on the sleep they never got. She’d gotten up at reveille and been working since then. Carol knew what her shortcomings were. Almost too short and too light to qualify, she’d struggled to keep up with even the other women. Her PT times were always at the low end of acceptable, even if everything else was above average.
If she didn’t improve, she’d have to go home. If she didn’t improve, they’d drum her out and she’d get on a bus or a plane and have to admit to her father that she hadn’t had what it took to do this.
Carol was not about to do that.
Her drill sergeant stalked up to her, scowling. “What the hell are you doing here, Martins?”
“Training, drill sergeant!” The answer was swift. She’d been working so long she couldn’t feel her arms or legs. The calluses on her hands were rubbed raw and the blisters on her feet had probably broken and rubbed raw yet again.
None of that mattered. None. She’d do this. She was going to do this.
“You trying to prove yourself better than everyone else, Martins?”
“No drill sergeant!”
In all honesty, she just didn’t want to be last any longer. To not be the last one staggering in after a run, or a hike wasn’t, exactly, a noble goal, but it was something she could aim for.
“Isn’t this your day off, recruit?”
“Yes drill sergeant!”
It was her day off, but she didn’t want to go into town. She got plenty of sleep. This was more important than anything else she could be doing. Carol’s gut clenched in icy fear. Was the drill sergeant going to make her leave? Was she going to get sent back to the barracks and told to stop?
“Carry on, Martins.” The drill sergeant turned away, barking orders at someone else.
Carol stared after him for a moment. She licked her lips. Then she turned back around and looked up again. This time, she didn’t hesitate. A running start and her hands gripped the net that they had to climb.
Today, she’d defeat the tower, not the other way around.