This story has been bugging me ever since I first saw LXG in theaters. I
have finally decided to get it down. Please let me know what you think!
Praise and constructive criticism only; flames will be used to burn
statistics, the most evil class on the planet! ]:)
Disclaimer: I don't own LXG or any of the cannon characters. The only thing I own is Carolyn and that is basically it.
~*~
Carolyn Quartermain wandered through the small market, arm looped through her basket, in which she carried her purchases. Every once in a while she called out a response to a comment or question posed to her. The hot, dry wind caused her colorful wraparound skirt to flap against her ankles, just above her sandaled feet. Her sleeveless white shirt was not as white as it had once been, stained overtime from the dirt. A few blond, curly wisps of hair that had escaped the loose bun she had pulled her hair up into blew into her tanned face and brown eyes.
She grinned at a comment a friend made; then she glanced toward the road. And her grin slid off her face. There was a horse pulling a covered carrige. Carolyn tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear with her free hand, frowning, as the wagon came to a stop in front of the hotel. A well dressed man got off telling the driver to wait for him, though not in such polite terms. The man then entered the building. Carolyn stared after him, frowning distrustfully, before she turned and went back to her shopping.
She was bargaining with one of the stall tenders for some bullets when she heard a *very* familiar "CRACK". Her head shot up and whipped around in search of the source. She found the well-dressed man and a figure that was much more familiar to her and *much* more welcome, heading from the house. Without really thinking about it she moved toward them; they stopped in front of a group of natives, two of whom had dropped a person on the ground. Seconds later that person keeled over from his kneeling position, causing Carolyn to jerk to a stop.
She stared at the unmoving black lump in the middle of the dirt road. It wasn't the first time Carolyn had seen a person die or a dead body, far from it in fact, for she had seen many in her 17 years of life including her mother's, her step-mother's, many of her father's lovers, many more friends and, the most painful of all for both her and her father, her older brother's. Her hand went up and her fingers ran over the necklace she wore around her neck, it was a long string of colorful stones, looped around her neck twice so that it was like a choker and then draped over her collar bone and allowed a silver pendant to rest against her chest.
She didn't move until she was jerked out of it by a huge explosion, to which her reaction was to drop her basket, crouch down and cover her head with her arms. She looked up and saw the hotel ablaze; her mouth fell open. She rose to her feet and looked back to where the two men were. She ran over to the well known figure, the basket forgotten. "Papa!"
He looked up and extended his arm to her, which wrapped around her shoulders; her own arms went around his chest.
"It appears the war has arrived."
Carolyn gave the man a look of confusion. She looked up at her father, Allan Quartermain, who glanced back down at her. He pressed his lips together; Carolyn recognized that look, it meant that he had come to a decision about something very difficult. Her father then looked back at the burning building. "Very well, Reed. I'm in."
Carolyn looked at her father questioningly.
"Excellent," the man, whom her father had called Reed, said. "Pack for an English summer."
Carolyn's jaw dropped as her gaze switched back from Reed, who was now walking off, to her father. "*English*? Papa, what's going on?"
She watched as her father's face became tight and she followed his gaze as it went to the graveyard, or more specifically to a particular grave in the graveyard. A cross, that had Quartermain simply written across it. She felt a pang in her heart at the sight of that grave. She looked back at her father. "Papa?"
He didn't look at her. "Let's go, Carolyn." She stiffened when he called her by her full name; he only did that when something was wrong. "I will explain everything when we get home."
She frowned but allowed him to lead them in the direction of the small house they called home, picking up her basket on the way.
~*~
"England?"
Allan Quartermain nodded. "Yes."
"But why you?! Why do you have to do this?! Haven they taken enough from us?! Why can't the just leave us the bloody hell alone?!" Carolyn was almost in tears.
Quartermain took his daughter's hands in his and held on even though she made a half hearted attempt to shake them off. "Carolyn, listen to me."
She pressed her lips, not looking at him, but he knew she was listening.
"I don't know why the need me, but I know that if I don't help there will be a world war that will spread to here," Carolyn stiffened, she shared her father's deep love for Africa and his hate for England, though she had never seen her family's native home. "And I don't want that to happen, nor do I want to see any more of those I love taken from me."
Carolyn swallowed. "I'm coming with you."
"Carolyn..." her father's voice was warning.
"No, Papa. You are all that I have left. I won't be left here while you are gallivanting around God-only-knows-where and I without a clue as to whether or not you are alright!" Carolyn looked at him pleadingly. "Please, Papa. I don't want to be alone."
Quartermain sighed, staring down at their hands. Finally he looked back up at his daughter's face.
~*~
Yes I am evil and am going to make this a cliffie! ]:) *cackles evilly* Let me know if I have gotten your attention and I will continue this. ;)
Disclaimer: I don't own LXG or any of the cannon characters. The only thing I own is Carolyn and that is basically it.
~*~
Carolyn Quartermain wandered through the small market, arm looped through her basket, in which she carried her purchases. Every once in a while she called out a response to a comment or question posed to her. The hot, dry wind caused her colorful wraparound skirt to flap against her ankles, just above her sandaled feet. Her sleeveless white shirt was not as white as it had once been, stained overtime from the dirt. A few blond, curly wisps of hair that had escaped the loose bun she had pulled her hair up into blew into her tanned face and brown eyes.
She grinned at a comment a friend made; then she glanced toward the road. And her grin slid off her face. There was a horse pulling a covered carrige. Carolyn tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear with her free hand, frowning, as the wagon came to a stop in front of the hotel. A well dressed man got off telling the driver to wait for him, though not in such polite terms. The man then entered the building. Carolyn stared after him, frowning distrustfully, before she turned and went back to her shopping.
She was bargaining with one of the stall tenders for some bullets when she heard a *very* familiar "CRACK". Her head shot up and whipped around in search of the source. She found the well-dressed man and a figure that was much more familiar to her and *much* more welcome, heading from the house. Without really thinking about it she moved toward them; they stopped in front of a group of natives, two of whom had dropped a person on the ground. Seconds later that person keeled over from his kneeling position, causing Carolyn to jerk to a stop.
She stared at the unmoving black lump in the middle of the dirt road. It wasn't the first time Carolyn had seen a person die or a dead body, far from it in fact, for she had seen many in her 17 years of life including her mother's, her step-mother's, many of her father's lovers, many more friends and, the most painful of all for both her and her father, her older brother's. Her hand went up and her fingers ran over the necklace she wore around her neck, it was a long string of colorful stones, looped around her neck twice so that it was like a choker and then draped over her collar bone and allowed a silver pendant to rest against her chest.
She didn't move until she was jerked out of it by a huge explosion, to which her reaction was to drop her basket, crouch down and cover her head with her arms. She looked up and saw the hotel ablaze; her mouth fell open. She rose to her feet and looked back to where the two men were. She ran over to the well known figure, the basket forgotten. "Papa!"
He looked up and extended his arm to her, which wrapped around her shoulders; her own arms went around his chest.
"It appears the war has arrived."
Carolyn gave the man a look of confusion. She looked up at her father, Allan Quartermain, who glanced back down at her. He pressed his lips together; Carolyn recognized that look, it meant that he had come to a decision about something very difficult. Her father then looked back at the burning building. "Very well, Reed. I'm in."
Carolyn looked at her father questioningly.
"Excellent," the man, whom her father had called Reed, said. "Pack for an English summer."
Carolyn's jaw dropped as her gaze switched back from Reed, who was now walking off, to her father. "*English*? Papa, what's going on?"
She watched as her father's face became tight and she followed his gaze as it went to the graveyard, or more specifically to a particular grave in the graveyard. A cross, that had Quartermain simply written across it. She felt a pang in her heart at the sight of that grave. She looked back at her father. "Papa?"
He didn't look at her. "Let's go, Carolyn." She stiffened when he called her by her full name; he only did that when something was wrong. "I will explain everything when we get home."
She frowned but allowed him to lead them in the direction of the small house they called home, picking up her basket on the way.
~*~
"England?"
Allan Quartermain nodded. "Yes."
"But why you?! Why do you have to do this?! Haven they taken enough from us?! Why can't the just leave us the bloody hell alone?!" Carolyn was almost in tears.
Quartermain took his daughter's hands in his and held on even though she made a half hearted attempt to shake them off. "Carolyn, listen to me."
She pressed her lips, not looking at him, but he knew she was listening.
"I don't know why the need me, but I know that if I don't help there will be a world war that will spread to here," Carolyn stiffened, she shared her father's deep love for Africa and his hate for England, though she had never seen her family's native home. "And I don't want that to happen, nor do I want to see any more of those I love taken from me."
Carolyn swallowed. "I'm coming with you."
"Carolyn..." her father's voice was warning.
"No, Papa. You are all that I have left. I won't be left here while you are gallivanting around God-only-knows-where and I without a clue as to whether or not you are alright!" Carolyn looked at him pleadingly. "Please, Papa. I don't want to be alone."
Quartermain sighed, staring down at their hands. Finally he looked back up at his daughter's face.
~*~
Yes I am evil and am going to make this a cliffie! ]:) *cackles evilly* Let me know if I have gotten your attention and I will continue this. ;)