nightmares06:

73. Green


“Ow!”

With a startled exclamation, Krissy drew her hand away from the needle she was trying to work with. A droplet of blood glistened on her fingertip, wavering as her hand shook.

“Here, let me see,” Mallory’s soft voice came, and a careful hand wrapped around Krissy’s slim wrist.

Mallory had decided to take the day to show Krissy some of the ropes on her sewing techniques. The boys were all out of the house except for Krissy’s younger brother, Bennett, who stayed back at her place to watch over their ailing mother. Sam and Walt would come back with enough food for both families, with any luck, and they would help support each other as best they could. It was good for Krissy to get out from time to time like this. She needed to get some space to herself, and she was one of the most adept people when it came to tiny, intricate movements.

They’d begun with dethreading some of the fabric Sam had found for them. A combination of blues and greens, Mallory was thrilled to have some color to work with for once. Krissy had claimed the green, and was trying her best to mimic the sewing techniques of Mallory. She was getting there, and one day might be able to make clothing like the jeans and jackets Sam and Walt were so fond of. Human designs really were versatile, no matter than they made the Watch family stand out among people their own size. It wasn’t like they went to gatherings very often.

Mallory blotted the blood from Krissy’s hand. “It’ll get easier as you go,” she said with a gentle smile. She held out her hand. As small and slim as her fingers were, the fingertips were covered with calluses from long years of sewing. Mallory poked at her fingertip with a needle. “I can barely feel it now,” she said with a grin.

Krissy’s eyes were wide. At just over seventeen, she idolized the older woman. Mallory was one of the few staples in her life, which was why she’d claimed all the green fabric. It was Mallory’s favorite color. If Krissy could make something to thank her with, it would need to be green.

Once her finger stopped throbbing, Krissy resumed her careful actions. Her tongue stuck out of her mouth and she concentrated hard on the fabric, determined to make the green dress that she saw in her mind a reality.

Oscar Meets Jacob (5/5)

neonthewrite:

Reading Time: ~5-10 minutes

(x)


“Oscar,” Jacob repeated. The shift in the tension in the air was palpable. Even though the little guy was curled up warily on the table, getting a name out of him felt like a step forward. A tiny step forward, but it was better than watching him cry and not knowing if he was hurt. Knowing he caused those tears had sent Jacob reeling.

“I’m Jacob,” he replied, allowing the faintest smile to cross his face. “Where, um, where did you come from, Oscar?”

Oscar shrugged, the tiniest little shoulders Jacob had ever seen, and wiped at his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I always lived here,” he replied. His voice was still rough from his crying, but it wavered less than before.

“And you came to get food,” Jacob mused. Holy shit. He couldn’t help but think of how desperate Oscar must have been to climb his backpack for food, if someone Jacob’s size inspired this much terror. Was the little guy living out of that bag with nothing else to his name?

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nightmares06:

58. Awaken

This became an interesting exercise and a moment I’ve thought about many times.


The burrow was dark, calm.

In the largest room, the two sentries kept watch. One would occasionally add to the pit of coals, stirring it around with a large stick to keep them from going out. The other paced from the front entrance, which looked out on the field they lived in, all the way to the back entrance, where the creek trickled peacefully by.

Nets, woven by the women, were left in the water. They would be checked first thing in the morning for any minnows that might have found their way into their clutches. The fish would be descaled and would become their meal for the next day. If they caught enough, they might even be able to make fish stew, a staple down in the burrow.

Arthur, the erstwhile leader of the tiny community that lived under the ground in the warrens and tunnels they’d both found and built themselves, slept peacefully through the night.

His young daughter, Alyssa, slept in one of the nearby rooms that branched off of his. She was almost thirteen now, and itched to live in a place of her own like the others. His rule was she had to wait until she was at least fourteen. He didn’t want his only living relation to be too far from him, even in their safe world.

So late that night it was almost morning, there was a rumble overhead. Arthur sat bolt upright, his eyes going straight to the ceiling as dirt and debris rained down on him.

Something was happening.

As he tore out of his home, he shouted to Alyssa, “Stay down here! Don’t come up until we send the signal everything is safe!” She covered her mouth, her green eyes watery from the combination of sleep and fear that hit her.

He reached the top, and one of the wooden spears they sharpened up for protection was thrown to him. Arthur was as prepared as anyone to protect their home, and he caught it with the ease of long years, following the others to the main entrance.

Loud barks drowned out the rumbles, and Arthur and the others skid to a halt at the sight before their eyes.

The new dog that lived up at the House they’d come from was there, but he wasn’t the source of the angry snarls and scratch marks that marred the entrance. The massive black Rottweiler was holding another animal pinned to the ground, a raccoon whose dexterous claws could reach into the burrow and pull people out to snack on if they happened too close to an entrance while it was around.

With a resounding growl, the dog bared its teeth. They sealed around the raccoon’s throat, and ended the threat.

Even Arthur, with long years and harsh days behind him already, had to look away. The dog didn’t leave the corpse there, sitting on their front doorstep. It pulled the raccoon away, and vanished into the stalks of grass.

Long moments passed, and Arthur waited with the sentries and defenders. His arms shook, knowing they were helpless if the dog came back and wanted to dig up their home.

Ten long, arduous minutes passed before they heard anything else. Panting, the dog trotted up out of the grass. Arthur snapped his spear up, holding it defensively in front of him. The others followed suit.

Instead of an attack, the dog sniffed towards the entrance and let out a long, whining growl. It stretched out on its belly, expressive brown eyes blinking at the people guarding their home.

“I don’t believe it,” Arthur heard a voice say, and was shocked to find it was his own.

His spear dropping to the ground, he found himself taking a step forward.

“Arthur, get back here!” one of the others snapped, and he recognized Neera’s voice.

He waved her off.

The dog simply watched his approach, nose twitching as he came in range. He held up his hands. “Thank you for saving us,” Arthur enunciated carefully, laying a hand on the dog’s snout.

The chocolate brown eyes closed, and to his surprise, the dog let out a moan of contentment. Arthur’s face split into a grin, and he rubbed the fur with greater abandon, thanking their protector.

And so Arthur and his people adopted Rumsfeld much the same way as Rumsfeld adopted them.

Oscar Meets Jacob (4/5)

neonthewrite:

Reading Time: ~5-10 minutes

(x)


Oscar’s shuddering never stopped. His heart pounded in his little chest and he had his arms tucked close to his chest while he gripped the strap of his cloth bag in terror. Wide eyes stared up at the human and waited for one of those enormous hands to return.

Oscar couldn’t stop anything that happened to him. He was too small.

“B-but I …” he began weakly, only to falter again. He took a slow, rattling breath and felt the telltale sting of more tears in his eyes. The human had asked him not to run off. Would he stop Oscar from trying? “I-I just … I don’t …”

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Oscar Meets Jacob (2/5)

neonthewrite:

Reading time: ~5-10 minutes

(x)


Oscar barely slipped an inch before his back impacted against something wide and warm, with a tough surface and a little give to it. A pulse thudded behind his back and he realized it was the human’s palm.

Then, fingers and a thumb bigger than him snaked into view. They curled around Oscar faster than he could cry out or even lift his own hands to push at them, and soon enough they tightened around his small body. The light from above winked out as Oscar disappeared completely in a fist that could probably smash half his home with ease.

He yelped when a voice, a deep, rumbling voice, boomed overhead. “Gotcha!” The word sent ice into Oscar’s every nerve ending.

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Oscar Meets Jacob (1/5)

neonthewrite:

image

What if indeed! Poor Oscar is one of my smallest characters and Jacob is one of my tallest! This is such a cute AU idea. Jacob’s meeting with Bowman was so touch and go, because the little sprite snarked up a storm! Oscar is definitely not the same personality type, so it was fun to see how differently Jacob would act with his first tiny encounter with such a timid little guy.

Reading time: ~5-10 minutes

(x)


There was nothing interesting on TV, but that didn’t really come as a surprise. Jacob didn’t watch a lot of television, and decent movies were tough to find on the channels offered by the kinds of small-town motels he chose on his frequent road trips. They went for basic, and that was always hit-or-miss.

Not that Breckenridge was particularly small. Jacob had chosen a little motel in the summer, however, a time when business in an area known for skiing could take a dip. Mountains stood tall and proud against the sky out the window while he lounged on the bed. It was a good place to stop and rest, even with the tacky decorations and worn-down character of the place.

While he settled on a channel showing old cowboy movies, Jacob mused about staying an extra day in Breckenridge. He could wander around and enjoy the mountain air, and the jagged horizon that stood tall and stoic all around. It contrasted with his usually endless horizon view back in Iowa, where the sky was a dome.

A quiet sound derailed his thoughts. On the edge of hearing, occurring between lines on the movie, Jacob thought he heard a rustling noise. It ended as soon as he heard it, but his ears primed to the sound to listen harder anyway. He pinpointed the source easily: his backpack.

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Welcome to the family! It’s so great to hear from a new reader! *hugs*

Really, I’ve loved stories like this since I was a wee kiddo. The Borrowers, Thumbelina, Tom Thumb and anything like them were some of my favorite movies and it was always a laugh if anyone got shrunk in an episode of a TV show. I’ve kept that love with me for ages, and after I discovered Supernatural, I decided to just go with it!

After that, the story just took on a life of its own and I don’t know if we can ever stop…

Plenty, plenty more fun on the way!

#cantstopwontstop

Portability is definitely not why I write on this scale.

First things first, the main reason you see Sam standing at 4 inches tall is because the majority of my stories are either Brothers Apart, or AUs based on Brothers Apart. The scale is not going to change between them.

Second, I do have other stories that work with different scales. Reversal of Fate and An Ounce Of Courage both use the scale where Sam/Dean stand at 3 inches tall. This scale was discarded for BA because if he’s in it for the long haul, he’s going to need to do things for himself. He is not dependent on Dean in any way as some people seem to assume. Sam survived most of his life without his family around and could easily survive without them. He stays with Dean for reasons all his own.

–Sidenote here: In the horror story, Jacob is reduced down to barely an inch and a half tall and we’ll see exactly why that’s not a good thing. It’s a horror story for a reason.

I also won’t work with the Swift scale (Found in Gulliver’s Travels and The Borrowers). Since I write for enjoyment and I don’t enjoy writing my characters at 6 inches tall, you won’t find that here.

Lastly, the scales I and @neonthewrite use are not 4 inches = 6 feet.

Sam stands 4 inches tall, but his actual height is 6′4″. This gives us a ratio of about 1/19. If we put him and Bowman next to each other, they’re both 4 inches tall. Same scale, right?

Wrong! Bowman is actually the equivalent of 6′2″ in height. So he’s tall, but not quite at Sam’s height. He’s going to be disgruntled if they ever stand at the same scale and he comes to discover this human he can look straight in the eye is actually taller than him. Bowman’s ratio is about 1/18.5.

Sam Makes a New Friend

“This is something else,” Sam said, keeping his voice at a low level. It felt… eerie, inside the walls. Like he was in another world, almost. He didn’t want to disturb the surroundings, knowing that he was outsized by almost everything in their world.

Oscar smiled faintly. It was easier to see his face in the low light leaking in from a split in the wallpaper above. They were just on the edge of the illumination before it faded into murky darkness in either direction. “It’s not too bad,” he said, nudging a woodchip with his shoe. It, like some other debris, was left behind from when the building was made.

“The path to my house is a lot cleaner, though, ‘cause I don’t want too much dust,” he explained conversationally. Oscar looked in both directions before he nodded to himself, assured of which direction they’d need to go if they wanted to get to his home from here. That was a long walk.

He opened his mouth to say more, but paused, almost frozen, and listened. There was a distant sound in the dust, something moving in the darkness beyond the area they could see. Oscar listened with a look of concentration on his face and turned his eyes towards the source, watching the dark. If they needed to run, they at least had the air duct right there to scurry into.

Oscar could see farther into the dark. When he saw the source of the quiet shuffling, his face broke into a grin. “Oh!” he muttered excitedly, glancing aside to Sam to see if he’d noticed yet.

Sam gasped at the sound, and found himself coughing on some dust he’d inhaled. The sounds echoing in the walls around them didn’t sound like a person’s footsteps, and were far too lightweight to be a human nearby. He couldn’t put an image to what the source was, and worry filled him at the thought of not knowing what was out there.

“Wh-what is it?” Sam asked Oscar tremulously. His hand once again gripped the younger boy’s sleeve, seeking out security. The hilt of his knife brushed against his chest with the movement, reminding him that he may be small, but he had a way to defend himself if he needed it.


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February 19th excerpt:

Was that … a leather jacket?

The perplexed expression lingered on his face and he stood there, frozen, long after the small whatever-it-was had disappeared. He couldn’t even be sure he’d actually seen anything. He frowned critically at the toaster, before shrugging and heading up the stairs.