I have no idea what this is
Feb. 21st, 2008 08:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maderrNor have I any fucking clue what's going on. So, I'll write more when I can, but I give no promises. This was all that came to me tonight.
Linden grimaced as he slammed his car door shut.
Ugh.
It was seven in the morning, he was dressed and awake and outside around entirely too much green stuff. Right now he should be listening to the morning curses from the bustop outside his apartment and snickering at the idiots who missed it every single day.
But, no.
He glared at the grass as he left the parking lot and ventured into the park proper. He hated grass. He hated trees. He hated everything natural and attached to the damned ground.
Three people waited for him near some benches that were strung along a giant board that proclaimed that point to be the start of the Green, Yellow, Orange, and Red paths. A woman, taller than both the men, with white-blonde hair and bright amber eyes. The two men were identifical, though one wore a dark blue suit and the other a dove gray. Their hair was black, shoulder length, neatly tied back. Silver-rimmed spectacles seemed to shield their deep green eyes.
"What in the hell am I doing here?" He asked, closing his eyes against the early sunlight. "Seriously. I'm supposed to be surrounded by glass and concrete, not grass and trees."
The woman nodded. "We know, boss, but..."
"There's something you need to see," said the man in blue.
"What?" Linden snapped. "You couldn't tell me over the phone?"
The man in gray just looked at him. Thios has always been bolder than his brother, Chrysan. "Never know who's listening, especially under the circumstances."
"Let's just get this over with," Linden snapped.
As one, the three rolled their eyes.
Clearly discipline was slipping. But, then again, he supposed it's what he got for being a boss who was clearly preferred tailored suits and triple espressos
He followed them along the path, noting they were apparently taking the green path. Insult to injury that, he just knew it.
They travelled in silence for nearly half an hour, all of them careful to keep hands tucked into their jackets, though they all wore long sleeves and gloves. They could and should be more diligent about covering the bare skin of their faces, but they were careful and it was better to risk being caught in order to see clearly. Chrysan led the way, making Linden think that whatever he was about to see, it was Chrysan who'd first discovered it.
Blossom swore behind him, the crude words ten times worse in her sweet, mellow voice. Even when she was angry, she could never actually sound it.
Finally they broke through into a clearing -- and Linden promptly started cussing as loudly and imagintively as he could.
Crossing the clearing, he knelt down in front of the body, chest tight with sorrow and pain. "What happened?" he asked softly, though it was obvious. The poor thing's throat had been cut. To judge, he hadn't been dead too long.
"A hiker, I think" Chrysan said softly, voice deep, carrying a resonance that said more clearly than his eyes that he was -- had been -- of the mountain tribe. He and Trio held hands, the brothers leanding into each other. Blossom stood alone, face set in a hard mask, eyes glowing as she did what she did best. "I can't imagine why, though. If he saw the sprite and freaked out, the manner of death would have been different."
Trio pushed at his glasses, still holding fast to Chrysan's hand. "Someone brought the sprite out here to kill."
"He was wearing a glamour," Blossom said at last, eyes slowly returning to normal. "So whoever did this probably knew what he was...but if we assume that, we could cause ourselves trouble."
"Right," Lindean said grimly. Damn it. The sprite was going to be missed. Such young faeries never went unnoticed. Not to mention his irridescent wings were silver and gold. Too small to be a true royal...but definitely a cousin or something.
Damn it damn it damn it.
They so didn't fucking need this right now. If High Fae came blowing around to find a murderer, they would find Linden and his crew in no time and they'd been so fucking careful not to be tracked or traced...so close to finishing, they could not fuck this up now. God damn.
He stood up. "Let's get the fuck out of here. We need to figure this out ourselves, and as quickly as possible, because it's a damned miracle no one else is here yet."
Nodding, they followed him from the clearing. HIs shoulders were tight with tension, unhappiness. That sprite couldn't have been more than twenty years old, and his gold-brown hair was a mark of Linden's own tribe. Fuck, he'd been gone far too long if he didn't recognize a royal sprite. He ignored the wash of homesickness and pressed on, more careful than ever now to keep from touching any part of the forest with his bare skin. Now, they all walked with arms up protectively in front of their faces.
They could not risk discovery. Not when they were so close.
Back in the park, he gave out orders and then climbed into his own car, shoving it into gear and vacating the parkling lot as quickly as possible.
Linden grimaced as he slammed his car door shut.
Ugh.
It was seven in the morning, he was dressed and awake and outside around entirely too much green stuff. Right now he should be listening to the morning curses from the bustop outside his apartment and snickering at the idiots who missed it every single day.
But, no.
He glared at the grass as he left the parking lot and ventured into the park proper. He hated grass. He hated trees. He hated everything natural and attached to the damned ground.
Three people waited for him near some benches that were strung along a giant board that proclaimed that point to be the start of the Green, Yellow, Orange, and Red paths. A woman, taller than both the men, with white-blonde hair and bright amber eyes. The two men were identifical, though one wore a dark blue suit and the other a dove gray. Their hair was black, shoulder length, neatly tied back. Silver-rimmed spectacles seemed to shield their deep green eyes.
"What in the hell am I doing here?" He asked, closing his eyes against the early sunlight. "Seriously. I'm supposed to be surrounded by glass and concrete, not grass and trees."
The woman nodded. "We know, boss, but..."
"There's something you need to see," said the man in blue.
"What?" Linden snapped. "You couldn't tell me over the phone?"
The man in gray just looked at him. Thios has always been bolder than his brother, Chrysan. "Never know who's listening, especially under the circumstances."
"Let's just get this over with," Linden snapped.
As one, the three rolled their eyes.
Clearly discipline was slipping. But, then again, he supposed it's what he got for being a boss who was clearly preferred tailored suits and triple espressos
He followed them along the path, noting they were apparently taking the green path. Insult to injury that, he just knew it.
They travelled in silence for nearly half an hour, all of them careful to keep hands tucked into their jackets, though they all wore long sleeves and gloves. They could and should be more diligent about covering the bare skin of their faces, but they were careful and it was better to risk being caught in order to see clearly. Chrysan led the way, making Linden think that whatever he was about to see, it was Chrysan who'd first discovered it.
Blossom swore behind him, the crude words ten times worse in her sweet, mellow voice. Even when she was angry, she could never actually sound it.
Finally they broke through into a clearing -- and Linden promptly started cussing as loudly and imagintively as he could.
Crossing the clearing, he knelt down in front of the body, chest tight with sorrow and pain. "What happened?" he asked softly, though it was obvious. The poor thing's throat had been cut. To judge, he hadn't been dead too long.
"A hiker, I think" Chrysan said softly, voice deep, carrying a resonance that said more clearly than his eyes that he was -- had been -- of the mountain tribe. He and Trio held hands, the brothers leanding into each other. Blossom stood alone, face set in a hard mask, eyes glowing as she did what she did best. "I can't imagine why, though. If he saw the sprite and freaked out, the manner of death would have been different."
Trio pushed at his glasses, still holding fast to Chrysan's hand. "Someone brought the sprite out here to kill."
"He was wearing a glamour," Blossom said at last, eyes slowly returning to normal. "So whoever did this probably knew what he was...but if we assume that, we could cause ourselves trouble."
"Right," Lindean said grimly. Damn it. The sprite was going to be missed. Such young faeries never went unnoticed. Not to mention his irridescent wings were silver and gold. Too small to be a true royal...but definitely a cousin or something.
Damn it damn it damn it.
They so didn't fucking need this right now. If High Fae came blowing around to find a murderer, they would find Linden and his crew in no time and they'd been so fucking careful not to be tracked or traced...so close to finishing, they could not fuck this up now. God damn.
He stood up. "Let's get the fuck out of here. We need to figure this out ourselves, and as quickly as possible, because it's a damned miracle no one else is here yet."
Nodding, they followed him from the clearing. HIs shoulders were tight with tension, unhappiness. That sprite couldn't have been more than twenty years old, and his gold-brown hair was a mark of Linden's own tribe. Fuck, he'd been gone far too long if he didn't recognize a royal sprite. He ignored the wash of homesickness and pressed on, more careful than ever now to keep from touching any part of the forest with his bare skin. Now, they all walked with arms up protectively in front of their faces.
They could not risk discovery. Not when they were so close.
Back in the park, he gave out orders and then climbed into his own car, shoving it into gear and vacating the parkling lot as quickly as possible.
