Quasimodo
01-07-08, 02:51
This story takes place after Lara's race for the Iris in Angkor Wat, and mixes the Core bio with some characters introduced or re-imagined by Crystal Dynamics. Many chapters are to come (this will be epic) - comments and criticism welcome!
“Sapling”
http://i199.photobucket.com/albums/aa212/quasiraider2/chapter1illustration.jpg
Chapter 1: Funeral
A young woman sat stock-still and alone at a pew, staring at the empty coffin before her. It was all her fault. Her knuckles shone white as she twisted a mangled tissue in her fingers, over and over.
“Mind if I sit here?”
“Wha-what?” she gaped, pulled from her reverie.
The man divulged a shadow of a smile and lowered himself beside her. They didn’t speak for a while. “Were you one of his students?”
“Mm…no, well, …yes. I was. Not at university…though…How did you know him?”
“Von Croy was a friend of my father’s. Name’s Larson Conway, by the way,” he drawled, offering his hand to her.
Dumbly, she reached out and shook it, her hand small and frail within his. “Lara Croft,” she murmured, looking slowly up his sleeve to his sympathetic blue eyes. She felt her face flush and her eyes and hands immediately went back to studying the shredded tissue.
“Amazing man, he was. We all used to spend the summers hunting in South Africa. Wildebeests, warthogs, even a lion, once,”
His voice was deep and comforting, an evening rainstorm tapping softly at the windows; she listened absentmindedly.
…
“Help me Lara! I’m trapped!”
The globe was closing around the platform, fast. What could she do?
“Wait! I’ll go and get some help!”
Pillars which supported the exit began to wobble and fail as the ground shook violently. Running and stumbling, she dived through the shrinking gap, narrowly escaping a large stone threatening to crush her. Crawling backwards away from the sealed exit, she watched incredulously as the rumbling stopped.
She stared at the tons upon tons of rock that kept her from reaching Von Croy. Pulling at her hair, she ran to the pile of rubble and frantically dug away at anything she could lift or reach.
It’s hopeless!
Lara collapsed to the ground, looking around wildly at the impenetrable forest. What now? Where would she run to? She wasn’t even armed. Pulling the rucksack off her shoulders, she opened it and carefully emptied the contents onto the ground. A few small golden skulls, a compass, a first aid kit, and something in a small leather sheath fell out. She unbuckled the sheath and an old hunter’s knife fell out. Turning over the antler bone handle in her hands, she noticed a sharpening stone had also fallen out of the rucksack. With the knife sufficiently sharpened, she returned it to its sheath and tucked it into her boot.
“There has to be something else,” she searched the rotting lining and outer pocket of the rucksack. Tenderly she withdrew a tattered parcel of paper. Once unfolded, the paper revealed what looked to be a faded map of the Angkor Wat temple complex. A drop of water fell next to her finger as she attempted to trace the path where she and Von Croy had gone - looking up, her face was greeted with a smattering of rain.
Gathering up the contents of the rucksack, she ran along the wall of the ruins until she found a grotto to shelter her from the storm. Shivering, Lara unfolded the map again, and opened the compass. Now that the map was orientated, she could easily find where she had been, and where she was now. Several kilometers away, a trail was marked northwest of the exit. The map had to have been at least 50 years old, but maybe, just maybe…
…
“Lara?”
“Sorry. What were you saying?”
“It wasn’t your fault, Lara,”
His mouth drew into a grim line as a wrinkle formed between her thin brows, and tears began brimmed in her eyes. She turned away and looked straight ahead again. “I know what you’re trying to do. Thank you,” she said flatly. His hand, which had been hovering tentatively over her shoulder, dropped silently back on his knee.
“I’m sure he wouldn’t have wanted you to get trapped in there with him. He wouldn’t hold that against a person. Von Croy was a good man,”
Her shoulders hunched in and she lowered her head between them. “Mr.Conway…would you..would you mind terribly if I had a moment alone with my thoughts?”
“Not at all.” She felt his weight leave the pew. A card appeared in front of her. “Listen…if you need someone to talk to…about anything, feel free to write me or call me anytime,”
“Thank you,” she said softly, taking the card and looking calmly up at him.
“Nice meeting you, Lara,” he smiled gently, and walked down the aisle to the church doors.
She looked over her shoulder and watched him leave, then studied the card he had given her. Texas. That explains the accent, she smirked. Her eyes again returned to the coffin, to memories and nightmares of Angkor Wat…
----------------------------
"Sapling" will be like a character study of Lara, examining her 'evolution' into a tomb raider. Once again, comments and criticism are mightily appreciated!
“Sapling”
http://i199.photobucket.com/albums/aa212/quasiraider2/chapter1illustration.jpg
Chapter 1: Funeral
A young woman sat stock-still and alone at a pew, staring at the empty coffin before her. It was all her fault. Her knuckles shone white as she twisted a mangled tissue in her fingers, over and over.
“Mind if I sit here?”
“Wha-what?” she gaped, pulled from her reverie.
The man divulged a shadow of a smile and lowered himself beside her. They didn’t speak for a while. “Were you one of his students?”
“Mm…no, well, …yes. I was. Not at university…though…How did you know him?”
“Von Croy was a friend of my father’s. Name’s Larson Conway, by the way,” he drawled, offering his hand to her.
Dumbly, she reached out and shook it, her hand small and frail within his. “Lara Croft,” she murmured, looking slowly up his sleeve to his sympathetic blue eyes. She felt her face flush and her eyes and hands immediately went back to studying the shredded tissue.
“Amazing man, he was. We all used to spend the summers hunting in South Africa. Wildebeests, warthogs, even a lion, once,”
His voice was deep and comforting, an evening rainstorm tapping softly at the windows; she listened absentmindedly.
…
“Help me Lara! I’m trapped!”
The globe was closing around the platform, fast. What could she do?
“Wait! I’ll go and get some help!”
Pillars which supported the exit began to wobble and fail as the ground shook violently. Running and stumbling, she dived through the shrinking gap, narrowly escaping a large stone threatening to crush her. Crawling backwards away from the sealed exit, she watched incredulously as the rumbling stopped.
She stared at the tons upon tons of rock that kept her from reaching Von Croy. Pulling at her hair, she ran to the pile of rubble and frantically dug away at anything she could lift or reach.
It’s hopeless!
Lara collapsed to the ground, looking around wildly at the impenetrable forest. What now? Where would she run to? She wasn’t even armed. Pulling the rucksack off her shoulders, she opened it and carefully emptied the contents onto the ground. A few small golden skulls, a compass, a first aid kit, and something in a small leather sheath fell out. She unbuckled the sheath and an old hunter’s knife fell out. Turning over the antler bone handle in her hands, she noticed a sharpening stone had also fallen out of the rucksack. With the knife sufficiently sharpened, she returned it to its sheath and tucked it into her boot.
“There has to be something else,” she searched the rotting lining and outer pocket of the rucksack. Tenderly she withdrew a tattered parcel of paper. Once unfolded, the paper revealed what looked to be a faded map of the Angkor Wat temple complex. A drop of water fell next to her finger as she attempted to trace the path where she and Von Croy had gone - looking up, her face was greeted with a smattering of rain.
Gathering up the contents of the rucksack, she ran along the wall of the ruins until she found a grotto to shelter her from the storm. Shivering, Lara unfolded the map again, and opened the compass. Now that the map was orientated, she could easily find where she had been, and where she was now. Several kilometers away, a trail was marked northwest of the exit. The map had to have been at least 50 years old, but maybe, just maybe…
…
“Lara?”
“Sorry. What were you saying?”
“It wasn’t your fault, Lara,”
His mouth drew into a grim line as a wrinkle formed between her thin brows, and tears began brimmed in her eyes. She turned away and looked straight ahead again. “I know what you’re trying to do. Thank you,” she said flatly. His hand, which had been hovering tentatively over her shoulder, dropped silently back on his knee.
“I’m sure he wouldn’t have wanted you to get trapped in there with him. He wouldn’t hold that against a person. Von Croy was a good man,”
Her shoulders hunched in and she lowered her head between them. “Mr.Conway…would you..would you mind terribly if I had a moment alone with my thoughts?”
“Not at all.” She felt his weight leave the pew. A card appeared in front of her. “Listen…if you need someone to talk to…about anything, feel free to write me or call me anytime,”
“Thank you,” she said softly, taking the card and looking calmly up at him.
“Nice meeting you, Lara,” he smiled gently, and walked down the aisle to the church doors.
She looked over her shoulder and watched him leave, then studied the card he had given her. Texas. That explains the accent, she smirked. Her eyes again returned to the coffin, to memories and nightmares of Angkor Wat…
----------------------------
"Sapling" will be like a character study of Lara, examining her 'evolution' into a tomb raider. Once again, comments and criticism are mightily appreciated!