New flash series! I’m going to write one flash for every Icon I have, over 4 LJ accounts, 1 DW, and a whole bunch of not-currently-in-use, until I get bored or run out of icons.
(Yes, if you want to make me an icon to get me to write a flash about it, you can. In that case, I’ll even write 2x as much!)
I’m starting with DW, in alphabetical order. Today’s icon:
Facets of Dusk, Alexa.
Icon & Art by Djinni
There was always a moment, when she stepped through a Door, when Alexa felt as if she was walking in eternity. She closed her eyes, every time, despite common sense and protocol, but it didn’t help. For that endless moment, she was standing in space, the stars all around her, lost in the ice of Void.
She took a breath. She always remembered to breathe deeply when she was here, in the non-place. It smelled like nothing she’d ever felt anywhere else, like power and pleasure and fear. It felt like freefall, like firing a semi-automatic gun, like the best orgasm of her life.
Breathe in, breathe out, and step. The step was as important as the breathing; she’d learned quickly that the others didn’t see what she saw. They saw a doorway, felt maybe a small wrenching, and they were through. If they got impatient, though, if she was too slow, then they jostled her. The first time they’d jostled her, they’d ended up in one of the far-variant worlds, and it had taken them seven dangerous Door-steps to get back home. She did everything she could to make certain that didn’t happen again.
Step again, the stars still twinkling beneath her eyelids, the scent of the Void still stinging her nose, and again, to let the entire team through the Door. And then, with a long inhale and a slower exhale, find her fingers, rooting her into her team, into the teammate holding her hand.
And they arrived.
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