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rainbowfic2013-09-08 03:03 pm
auguris) wrote in rainbowfic2013-09-08 03:03 pm
Bone Black 14, Transparent 1
Name: auguris
'verse: Ghost Sight
Story: Not Dead
Colors: Bone Black 14. Rigor Mortis, Transparent 1. Wind/Breeze
Supplies and Styles: Pastels: victim, Canvas
Word Count: 660
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None.
Summary: Mitchell saves a kernan woman and isn't exactly thanked for it. Just a quick scene that doesn't have a home. Concrit welcome.
Mitchell pulled his jacket tighter against the wind as he exited his car, red and blue flashing across the scene. Not far beyond the police line, a kernan woman lay on a gurney. He held up his consultant ID for the line guard, eyes on the kernan even while the cop let him through. The human standing over her, "coroner" printed across her jacket, zipped up the body bag while Mitchell strode over.
"She's not dead," Mitchell mumbled but stopped, unsure. Kellen had called him in but was nowhere to be seen, presumably still inside the house. He stood alone amongst a handful of human officers, all strangers.
He repeated himself, louder, bravado masquerading as confidence. Her essence, soul, life -- whatever one chose to call it -- while faded and suffering, still shone through, barely visible as his magic competed with his other senses.
"She's been dead for hours," the coroner said, eyebrows up. Mitchell shook his head and snatched the zipper out of her hand, freeing the kernan. He understood the mistake: the kernan lay stiff and unmoving, her gray skin cold and clammy, lips dry. But this was a glamour, subtle and complex -- he directed his magic around her body, earning a "fucking wizard" from a nearby cop -- more than a little wizarding blood in that one, then.
He found it behind her ear, grabbing it as the coroner yanked his arm away -- a small ivory comb, tangled in the kernan's hair. She sat bolt upright, her hoarse screaming raising his hackles. Mitchell tried to calm her but she fought him off, long nails clawing deep scratches across his face.
None of the humans went near her -- Mitchell wished for another kenan, Cagri, anyone, to tell this poor woman she was safe.
Her screaming subsided to shaken sobs. She pointed one long nail at Mitchell and rasped, "wizard."
He put up his free hand. "I'm not the one who did this to you."
She shook her head, agreeing or not understanding, and dropped her head into her hands, weeping. The coroner put a hand on her arm but the kernan slapped it off, muttering, "don't touch me."
"What the hell is going on?" Kellen strode from the house, hands on her hips. "Is that our dead kernan?"
"That's your living kernan," Mitchell said, wincing as he gingerly touched his face. "Unless there's another body in there and you got confused."
She scowled at him before upbraiding the coroner for pronouncing a clearly living woman dead. Mitchell tried not to stomp as he headed back to his car, comb still in his hand.
"Pathing, that's evidence!"
Mitchell set his jaw as he unlocked his trunk. "Yes, but it's dangerous evidence. You can't just throw it in a plastic baggie." He left the *fucking mundane* unsaid.
"What is it?" Kellen asked.
"Not sure," Mitchell said, speech clipped. "It's enchanted. Not my area." He pulled out a small obsidian box, releasing the ward with a wave of his hand before opening it. The comb left little room inside. "You'll be giving it to MCU?"
"Yes," she said, sounding apprehensive.
He wove a weak ward around the box, enough to keep a human from opening it but not enough to stop any of the wizarding police. "There's no telling how it will affect you. Just leave it be, MCU will find someone who knows what they're doing." There weren't any Enchanters on police payroll, but the Assembly would find someone. Tamsin would probably--
Not his problem.
"She do that?" Kellen pointed to his face. "I'll get--"
"It's fine," he snapped. "Do you need me?"
He pulled her arm back, eyeing him. "Not anymore. No death, no haunting, right?"
Mitchell nearly apologized -- it wasn't Kellen's fault her fellow officer had swore at him, or that the kernan had panicked and attacked him -- but instead he said, "right," and stormed into his car, slamming the door shut.
auguris'verse: Ghost Sight
Story: Not Dead
Colors: Bone Black 14. Rigor Mortis, Transparent 1. Wind/Breeze
Supplies and Styles: Pastels: victim, Canvas
Word Count: 660
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None.
Summary: Mitchell saves a kernan woman and isn't exactly thanked for it. Just a quick scene that doesn't have a home. Concrit welcome.
Mitchell pulled his jacket tighter against the wind as he exited his car, red and blue flashing across the scene. Not far beyond the police line, a kernan woman lay on a gurney. He held up his consultant ID for the line guard, eyes on the kernan even while the cop let him through. The human standing over her, "coroner" printed across her jacket, zipped up the body bag while Mitchell strode over.
"She's not dead," Mitchell mumbled but stopped, unsure. Kellen had called him in but was nowhere to be seen, presumably still inside the house. He stood alone amongst a handful of human officers, all strangers.
He repeated himself, louder, bravado masquerading as confidence. Her essence, soul, life -- whatever one chose to call it -- while faded and suffering, still shone through, barely visible as his magic competed with his other senses.
"She's been dead for hours," the coroner said, eyebrows up. Mitchell shook his head and snatched the zipper out of her hand, freeing the kernan. He understood the mistake: the kernan lay stiff and unmoving, her gray skin cold and clammy, lips dry. But this was a glamour, subtle and complex -- he directed his magic around her body, earning a "fucking wizard" from a nearby cop -- more than a little wizarding blood in that one, then.
He found it behind her ear, grabbing it as the coroner yanked his arm away -- a small ivory comb, tangled in the kernan's hair. She sat bolt upright, her hoarse screaming raising his hackles. Mitchell tried to calm her but she fought him off, long nails clawing deep scratches across his face.
None of the humans went near her -- Mitchell wished for another kenan, Cagri, anyone, to tell this poor woman she was safe.
Her screaming subsided to shaken sobs. She pointed one long nail at Mitchell and rasped, "wizard."
He put up his free hand. "I'm not the one who did this to you."
She shook her head, agreeing or not understanding, and dropped her head into her hands, weeping. The coroner put a hand on her arm but the kernan slapped it off, muttering, "don't touch me."
"What the hell is going on?" Kellen strode from the house, hands on her hips. "Is that our dead kernan?"
"That's your living kernan," Mitchell said, wincing as he gingerly touched his face. "Unless there's another body in there and you got confused."
She scowled at him before upbraiding the coroner for pronouncing a clearly living woman dead. Mitchell tried not to stomp as he headed back to his car, comb still in his hand.
"Pathing, that's evidence!"
Mitchell set his jaw as he unlocked his trunk. "Yes, but it's dangerous evidence. You can't just throw it in a plastic baggie." He left the *fucking mundane* unsaid.
"What is it?" Kellen asked.
"Not sure," Mitchell said, speech clipped. "It's enchanted. Not my area." He pulled out a small obsidian box, releasing the ward with a wave of his hand before opening it. The comb left little room inside. "You'll be giving it to MCU?"
"Yes," she said, sounding apprehensive.
He wove a weak ward around the box, enough to keep a human from opening it but not enough to stop any of the wizarding police. "There's no telling how it will affect you. Just leave it be, MCU will find someone who knows what they're doing." There weren't any Enchanters on police payroll, but the Assembly would find someone. Tamsin would probably--
Not his problem.
"She do that?" Kellen pointed to his face. "I'll get--"
"It's fine," he snapped. "Do you need me?"
He pulled her arm back, eyeing him. "Not anymore. No death, no haunting, right?"
Mitchell nearly apologized -- it wasn't Kellen's fault her fellow officer had swore at him, or that the kernan had panicked and attacked him -- but instead he said, "right," and stormed into his car, slamming the door shut.
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