sonofgranite | Entries tagged with púcas

This prompt gives me a handy opportunity to supply a list of terms both English and Irish that crop up in writing and RP, not only for my boy Ruairí MacEibhir (

sonofgranite), but for his children Anraí (

thehorseman), Rory (

fey_fire), Tadhg (

gifted_hands) and Caitlín (

a_chaitlin). You may also see them in the lj for his future grandson Liam (

marcusisaspaz) and other related journals.

( P is for Púca, that's good enough for me )

If anyone would like a definition for any other terms or phrases in my writing for these characters, feel free to leave a comment and I'll do my best to oblige. ^_^

Current Mood: contemplative

Discuss an individual who has scared you.

Now then, let's be fair. He didn't mean to. There was no way he could have known, after all.

Anraí Ó Reachtaire was his name, a man of some seventy years, white-haired with pale blue eyes that could flash with ire at the slightest provocation. Short, wiry and quite human, he looked nowhere near imposing enough to terrify a púca more than twenty times his age, but ... well, there were circumstances.

He came across me standing in my stallion-form on a hillock by the Cois Fhairrge Road, where I watched my dark rose Máire choosing fish from the night's catch and pondered how I was to make myself known to her. I coaxed Anraí onto my back, thinking only to have a bit of harmless sport with the old man before carrying him safely home. And sport I had, but soon after we came within sight of his stables, he caught me unawares and slipped a rope halter onto my head.

( Well. That was certainly a complication. )

Muse: Ruairí MacEibhir
Fandom: The Grey Horse
Word count: 1002 (does not include direct quotes)

Current Mood: relieved

Black and White

Black and White. Dubh agus Bán. In Gaelic the same words can also mean dark and fair.

Black like the gleaming coat of an ebony mare, like ink-dark tresses curling and waving, contrasting against the fair skin of what looks like (but is not) a young woman. White like the pearly sheen of a snow-colored stallion, like the bright hair framing a masculine face that shows no other signs of age until you look into the dark depths of his eyes.

Black and white, dubh agus bán, dark and fair ... Gaoth and Eibhear. My parents, Wind and Granite.

( Opposites attract? Perhaps ... )

Muse: Ruairí MacEibhir
Fandom: The Grey Horse
Word count: 976

Current Mood: nostalgic

3am

(Takes place during the trip begun in this RP thread)

He could feel the night tugging on him.

Ruairí resisted the pull, or did his best to. He was comfortable where he was, lying in the cozy brass bed in the Murphys' rental cottage with Abby nestled against him. He didn't want to move. And yet no matter how long he lay, the slow rise and fall of his chest his only motion, sleep refused him.

The LCD on the bedside clock spelled out 3:00 am. With a soft sigh and painstaking care he shifted his arm out from under his lover and eased his way out of the bed. At Abby's faint noise of protest, he murmured, "I'll be right back, sweet." Whether or not she actually woke enough to hear him he wasn't sure, but it didn't really matter. He wouldn't be gone long enough for his pillow to cool.

( At least not from her point of view. Locked from all muses except Robin, Zee, Ti and Ruairí's children. )

Muse: Ruairí MacEibhir
Fandom: The Grey Horse
Word count: 1689

Current Mood: contemplative

Really, he's trying to tone down his excitement, but judging by the number of amused smiles and head-shakes Abby has sent his way, he's been none too successful so far. But then Ruairí has never been all that skilled at reining in his feelings, especially the positive ones. And departing on their Albany trip this morning gives him any of a number of reasons for excitement.

One week. A full seven days spent with the woman he loves, the woman who loves him. Ruairí's lips still curve automatically upward at the memory of how they'd confessed their feelings to one another. Abby would never throw those three particular words around casually, so each utterance is precious.

( An anticipated vacation )

Current Mood: eager
Current Location: in the car

What event do you wish you could have been a "fly on the wall" for?

Ara, and what makes you so sure I haven't been?

I am a púca after all, one of the Other Folk. We work in mysterious ways. I can hear Tadhg Ó Murchú scolding me for the blasphemy, but it's true.

( Not a literal fly, of course. )

Muse: Ruairí MacEibhir
Fandom: The Grey Horse
Word count: 308
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sonofgranite

Current Mood: thoughtful

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Ruairí MacEibhir

Entries tagged with púcas

Friday - A MacEibhir Family Glossary

(TM) 240. Fright for Fright

(TM) 230. Black and White

(TM) 228. The wee small hours ...

A Trip for Two (RP post for abbytude, with additions from a_chaitlin and fey_fire)

(TM) 212. Flies on walls ... or not quite.

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February 2011

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