Some of you will already have read Obeying Rigel. You’ll therefore be more than familiar with the dynamic, vigorous and oh so Toppy Rigel. In Obeying Rigel she’s a slick ladies woman, but there is a past hinted at, a chaotic past full of recrimination and other things starting with r. This is a little excerpt from what could be a prequel which I’m dubbing ‘Lessons for Rigel’.
Lessons for Rigel
Fresh from a post-workout shower, Chris ‘Tank’ Watkins stretched and pushed her way out of the gym. It was late, almost midnight and it had been a long day. She was about to turn around and lock the door when the sounds of loud banging and cursing distracted her from her task.
Out in the carpark, a small, very familiar, figure was beating the shit out of her car. She was fashion forward in the year of our lord 1985 which meant being dressed in tight stonewash jeans and a matching jacket. She threw punch after kick after punch at the body of the Corolla. Her dark shaggy hair, long at the back but shaved short at the front, swung across her pale face obscuring the scowl from time to time.
“Rigel!” Chris dropped her gym bag and jogged over to the scene of the auto beating in progress. “Rigel, settle down.”
“No.” The smaller woman balled her fist and slammed it into the side of her car. Her knuckles bloomed with red pain, little cuts breaking open in the skin from repeated punishment.
“Cut that out,” Chris snapped. Ignoring her, Rigel raised her fist again but before it could descend again Chris caught her by the wrist and that was the end of that. Chris was a large woman, broad across the shoulders and powerful to boot. Her deep set blue eyes didn’t often give much away and her blonde crew cut spoke to exactly what she was, simple, direct and to the point. “I said, cut it out. Why are you so angry? What happened?”
“I got kicked out again.” Rigel deflated visibly. Her shoulders drooped and the fist fell away to dangling fingers handing limply on the other side of Chris’ firm grip.
“What did you do?” Chris’s tone was grim. Serious. Not at all comforting or understanding.
The look she got was one of defiance in preparation for disappointment. “They found my stash.”
“Rigel.” Chris’s voice was heavy with disappointment. “I told you St Martins had a zero tolerance policy on drugs. Even weed. You signed a contract.”
The sharp lines of the younger woman’s face became even sharper as she scowled furiously. “They don’t have any right to tell me what I can and can’t put in my body.”
“They do have the right to say what goes on under their roof,” Chris sighed. She was fast coming to the limits of her patience with Rigel. She was twenty, almost twenty-one. Old enough to be out on her own for sure, but for one reason or another she just couldn’t get it together. She hadn’t held down a job for more than a few weeks and she’d been kicked out of three apartments for various infractions.
“Anyway, guess I’ll just sleep in my car and wash up when the gym opens tomorrow,” Rigel said, slumping back against the driver’s door.
Chris released her wrist. “You can stay at my place tonight. We’ll work something out tomorrow.”
“No thanks,” Rigel shook her head and cradled her swollen knuckles. They needed ice – and to belong to someone who wasn’t quite so stupid as to vent her frustrations on a door. “I can’t do that.”
“Yes you can.”
A slow shake of the head showed that she wasn’t just being a contrary brat as per usual. “No. Trust me. I can’t.”
“Why not?”
Rigel’s reply was as honest as it was heartbreaking. “You’re the only person who still likes me. I don’t want to screw that up. And I screw everything up.” She met Chris’s eyes with desperation. “Just forget you saw this and go home okay? You got work in the morning.”
“As do you, right?”
Rigel’s muteness was testament to another job lost. Chris felt frustration welling and fought to keep it down. “What happened?”
“It was a stupid job.” Rigel was mumbling. She always mumbled when she knew she was in the wrong, mumbled and scuffed at the ground. Chris looked down. Yep, sure enough a sneaker was digging at the asphalt as if it might be able to tunnel all the way to China.
“What. Happened?”
“I got fired. That’s all. Okay?”
“For?”
Rebellion. The last defense of those who know they were in the wrong. “I don’t have to tell you.” She stared up at Chris, her hands balling subconciously into fists again. She was always so angry, so eager to fight – as if fighting would solve all her problems.
Chris took a step back and folded her arms over her chest, giving Rigel some space. No point cornering the vicious little thing. “You have to tell someone.”
“I threw soda over a customer,” Rigel admitted. “He said I got the wrong soda. I didn’t get the wrong soda. He asked for Pepsi and he got Pepsi.” A little faraway smile crossed her face. “He got it right in his face.”
“Rigel…”
“Taaannkkk.” Rigel interrupted, drawling Chris’ nickname out in an exaggerated mimicking. “Listen, don’t worry, it’s fine, okay?” She started patting at the pocket of her jacket, finding what she wanted in the left breast pocket. She drew a crumpled white cylinder out and clamped it between her teeth as her hands started patting her body again. She glanced over at Chris. “You gotta light?”
Chris’s voice held heavy significance. “I know something that needs to be lit up and it’s not that cigarette.”
It was lost on Rigel. “Do you have one or not? Wait… don’t worry.” She found a faded green Bic and sparked it several times before getting enough flame to light her cigarette. Orange light flared as the paper and tobacco caught fire, momentarily casting a glow over the devilishly attractive features and lighting her eyes. There was always something in Rigel’s eyes, whether she was happy, sad or her usual defiant self. It was something that spoke to a base instinct to do whatever could be done regardless of the consequences. Gazing into those lawless eyes, Chris felt a tug somewhere low, an urge that had nothing to do with wanting to help the miscreant inhaling toxic smoke deep into her lungs.
That was great! You are truly an awesome writer. Can’t wait to read more.
Thank you Bahama Girl!
Oooo, this is great! Kick ass spanking coming? I’m full of anticipation … :)
I have the Rigel book and enjoy it a lot. Do you think you could explore the poly aspect a little further?
Peach
More poly stuff? I really can’t promise anything I’m afraid on account of I don’t really plan these things – but maybe. That’s a real maybe. A 50 /50 maybe. Not one of those fake ‘maybe we can get a lion if you do the vacuuming’ maybes.
Maybe we could get a lion and train him to do the vacuuming.
Naughty Rigel spanked, yay!! But this younger version… Poor Rigel.
I do so love how sympathetic my readers tend to be. This younger Rigel smokes weed and cigarettes, beats up on her car and throws soda at unsuspecting customers and still you feel sorry for her. *grins and shakes my head*
There’s an explanation, I was going to give it but I thought it wasn’t relevant but now… This is long and is about my life and I shouldn’t write this here and I know it’s not appropiate but I feel compelled to do so. I blame insomnio.
The simple answer is: I overidentify. But I’d like to elaborate. Please feel free not to read here.
I think she is depressed. I don’t smoke (at all), I don’t beat anything, I don’t throw soda at anyone. But I can’t manage on my own and in the last weeks I can’t sleep well anymore, except when I sleep a lot/too much. After the darkest thoughts going through my mind during two weeks without a rest, enough is enough: I’m coming out as a crazy person. Well, I will go to the specialist and whatever.
The thing is the last four years, but especially the last two years I’ve been thinking: there is something wrong with me, but I always thought: you should not feel this way, you have no right to feel this way, you should be grateful that you are getting an education (don’t throw that away) and so many things.
It doesn’t work. I’m convinced that it doesn’t work because I’m not tryiung hard enough, I’m lazy and… My best friend disagrees. She says I need help and I deserve help.
I need help allright, I still think I shouldn’t need it, that I’m weak and I should be stronger, especially in this time, with so many people being brave in a difficult time(like Lucy Lawless), but since that didn’t help last three years…
But the problem is since a year and a half ago eating is kind of a problem too. Now I’m eating. I’m eating very little some days, I’m doing crazy shit I won’t tell others… I’m fucking supposed to know better, I do know better and I want to think I’ve gotten a bit better, but still.
So where do I begin? I was depressed before I started this stupid shit but I know it goes both ways.
Anyway. I read that Stephen Fry is bipolar and that he was depressed and he got help and he is awesome. I’m not awesome as of now but maybe if I get help I can get awesome. Maybe I can’t just be awesome without help, maybe I need help to get stronger. Maybe I’m weak now, I know I’m weak, but maybe there’s hope for me.
I can’t sleep. Lots of cofee, classes, and then my best friend is going with me shrink-seeking.
I’m so sorry for this, trully. And actually Rigel is kind of an ass. I leave cars alone.
P.S. I’ve got a relative who tried to commit suicide and he is now in the hospital (not suicide this time) and there’s this whole family crisis (he is not much liked in the family) and I thought: nature and nurture in your case, my dear, but remember you still not believe in determinism. But you can be determined if you don’t do anything, you are a big girl now, there’s a point where things don’t get better on their own, or rather they even got better and you got worse. So I got really scared. Frightened. And I thought: you must do something.
P.S.1. I promised my best friend this time I would do something more than my usual stuff, called another friend (who is going to a shrink herself) and even told my mother. So I basically forced myself to do what I think it’s best and not back out. And crazy as it is, I think I’m doing the same thing in your blog. I hear this voice that tells me: get your own blog, but I do have it, it’s just in spanish and I don’t really blog anymore. Sorry, really. The thing is I feel this too urges: one is being alone, not talking, not saying anything, try and be stoic. Don’t bother people, especially don’t bother people on the internet. But at the same time I want to… this sounds too dramatic but here it is: I want to tie myself to this world.
And I’m rather clumsy when it comes to social skills but I guess I can learn.
By the way, about a year and a half ago I was the one who insisted on naughty interpretations on Enyd Blyton books and then I felt rather silly. I always wanted to apologize for that rambling, so I will do so now when I ramble my last ramble in your blog.
I will keep my posts short from now on. I promise.
Okay, now I’m really embarrassed. That always happens to me. I talk/write and press submit and then… But really, it won’t happen again.
Wow… Really, sorry. It really hits me after the fact.
Sometimes I get too enthusiastic. When in person sometimes I talk too much (I learned to curb it a bit but I’m getting worse again), but I really have no excuse for doing it when I write. This is your space and I really shouldn’t have used it for writing all of that. I will start my own blog and keep the comments here related to the posts.
You’re all good DD. For starters you’re right. Rigel is obviously going through some stuff, so empathy is not an entirely misplaced reaction.
As for the rest, it sounds like you are having a hard time and you’re absolutely correct that help is a good and necessary thing. Stephen Fry has an AMAZING documentary on his journey with his manic depression (the same as bipolar I think?) It’s here on YT: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gXkmb5s8Igc
Yes. I came across that documentary and I began to watch it. He has a way with words and it’s a pleasure listening to him.
I just showered and I’m ready to start my day and I’m very nervous. What kind of help do I need? It’s tricky. A few hours ago I felt so hopeless, and then this tiny little bit of hope and I held unto it and I called people and did the whole: I need help and I shall help it, I think I’m not just a lazy lousy student, I think I’m a bit messed up in the head.
Now, of course, I need to get to the specifics. Isn’t there an expression that is figuring out the kinks? Well, I need to do that.
And my best friend is going to help with that and I actually am grateful that I’ve got options. Of course, all of that mixes with terrible guilt because just that fact should be enought. Just the fact that in so many ways I’m lucky… But it’s a good thing and that will make things easier, let’s leave it all that. I’m still terrified, mind you. But despite not having never done this, I need to believe I can do it and I shall do it.
Thank you for your kind words.
I wish you all the best for your journey, DD :) As for Stephen Fry, yes he does have an amazing way with words, and moreover he is a shining example of precisely how much can be achieved even if one does have to contend with an illness that makes one feel godawful a lot of the time.
Thanks!! Really, I feel silly but it means a lot to read that.
Rigel is, to my mind, the epitome of the flawed Top. I think it is primarily because of my interpretation of polyamorism as consentual infidelity, in a class with open marriage and swingers. I don’t have a negative opinion of these consentual relationships, if they ‘work’ for the consenting parties. Obviously my sympathies were with Sadie, for whom it wasn’t working. I saw Rigel as a Brat in Tops rament, loveable, but needing someone to jerk a knot in her. I would love to read the prequel in which that transformation from Brat to Top was initiated….not to mention more about Tank.
Do you pattern your characters after people you know, or create them totally from your imagination?
Rigel is certainly flawed, but her heart is in the right place. I don’t have any personal experience with a poly relationship, but I do find the idea intriguing. Although I’m in a monogamous relationship, there’s no harm in thought experimenting with these things I don’t think.
Relationships tend to come in ‘one size fits all’ format, and that can create a lot of problems for people who don’t fit the size. (This is already tying into that other conversation, isn’t it?) Rigel was up front about what she was and was not prepared to give in her relationship and it was up to Sadie to either accept or reject that offer.
As for Rigel’s journey, that’s something I’m very much looking forward to writing. Even when I was writing her as a Top she had her moments of misbehavior and often had to be reined in by her creator.
By a few years ago I mean yesterday.
Really. Sleeping 8 hours a day is not just the healthy thing, it gives you days and nights and that’s awesome. Structure!!
So in the first book you present this chick as a slick UltraTop and now you want to spin it back and show she developed from an UberBrat. I’ll bite. I’d love to see you try it.
Speaking as an UberBrat who once punched a guy in the face through his car window. Way back in the day of course. Much more refined now.
Gotta find out if I can get first book on phone. Pretty sure ancient laptop on dialup won’t download even a pdf book. Shouldn’t take more than a month to figure out what reader phone uses.
Write slow.
Hmmm nooo. Rigel is’t a slick ultra top (she is however, pretty slick and also very toppy – if that makes sense, which it doesn’t) and it’s definitely not strange that she was a pain in the ass once, in fact it’s referred to directly in the book numerous times. I’ve also neglected to mention that the book already has a sequel, so this will make it a prequel of three.
Good luck with the tech issues :)
I have to admit that I was not the biggest fan of Obeying Rigel mainly because my idea of a poly relationship was different than what you presented. However, even saying that, I have not been able to let go of your teaser since reading it last week. I like the idea of seeing what went into creating the Rigel we know.