amaranthh (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
greenling) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rainbowfic2013-11-01 01:38 am
greenling) wrote in rainbowfic2013-11-01 01:38 am
Lawn Green #11/Camo Green #1, Dirt Brown #19
Name: Greenling
Story: All Great Things
Colors: Lawn Green #11 (summer job)/Camo Green #1 (army), Dirt Brown #19 (rooted)
Supplies and Styles: Paint by Numbers (no heaven or hell just the land between)
Word Count: 769
Rating: PG13ish
Warnings: Nothing in particular.
Summary: Our two main characters meet Kevin's associates. They get some more information, but in turn are recruited into the hodgepodge of people trying to fix this whole "rip in reality" thing.
Comments, criticism, and questions are all appreciated.
Their eventual destination was apparently a police station. The parking lot was largely empty of cars; inside was similarly empty. It looked orderly enough, but the people inside had clearly left quickly; there was more than one half-finished cup of coffee. Peace was vaguely worried, but there were no signs of violence he could tell.
"So what the hell is going on?" Dmitry asked.
"My friends- the other people in my group- told me to come here. I presume they took over the place."
"They took over a police station?"
Kevin didn't bother to answer. The clatter of boots on tile came from down the hall from the waiting room; soon enough a woman came through the doors. She was shortish, with wavy black hair, a nice-looking dress suit, and an eyepatch.
"Diana." Kevin nodded.
"Hey, short stuff." Peace frowned; they looked the same height, outside of her boots. Diana looked up at him and a grin sprouted. "Ah, I see you find me some more help."
"Us. And yes. This is Peace and Dmitry."
Diana looked Peace up and down, obviously checking him out; he glanced to Dmitry, who was wearing a frighteningly similar grin. "Well hello there, tall, redheaded, and ah... werewolfy, I suppose? You are a werewolf, right? Right?" She looked at Kevin. "That's how you found them?"
"As far as I know," Peace said helpfully.
"Peace is. I don't know about the other one."
Peace (and everyone else) looked at Dmitry. He scoffed, then extended his hand to Diana. "Hi. I'm the other one. I think I have a magic sword and it might be trying to talk to me, not sure."
"Talk to you?" Diana said. "Let me have a look at that thing."
He held it up to her with one hand, pointing the flat of the blade at her. She looked closely at it, running her finger over it; she turned it over and felt its heft; she attempted to take it from Dmitry's hand, but he tugged it away, frowning.
"Hm." The expression on her face was sour. "Have you made any bargains lately, Dmitry? Agreements, promises, rash statements, maybe in your dreams?"
"No," he said just as sourly. "Not that I can remember."
"Any weird flashes of power or insi-"
"Fuck you," he snapped. She stood up straight and blinked at him. "I've had blackouts. I've had weird little- tics, or something- that I've had, weird stuff that I've had all my life, okay, just not this bad. Then there was this fucking sword stuck in a pile of trash in an alley. I didn't make any fucking bargains with Cthulhu or whatever and I'm pretty sure I'm not King Arthur, so what do you have left?"
"Nothing," she said without hesitation, "except that someone made a bargain with the Outer Powers and now we have demons to deal with. If you're not him, God knows what you are. Now are you here to help?"
"Demons?" Peace and Dmitry said simultaneously. "Wh- like- possessions of actual people?" Peace continued.
She waved a hand. "No. That's just what we call random things that pop up out of nowhere, look like real things, and fade away after they're dead. Well, that's the most serious name. They're kind of like Deep Ones, since you brought it up."
"They pop up out of nowhere?" Dmitry said. "Like, thin air?"
"Yep, seen it myself. Anywho, if you'd like to come back to the back with me, we've got a strategy session going on while the nice police officers who agreed to do their jobs, and a couple of other friends of mine, secure a perimeter around the worst-hit areas. The evac seems to be going nicely and in a few hours we'll be able to move in."
"Move in?" Peace asked.
"Shoot the bastards. Clear them out. You, Mr. Werewolf, will probably be on cleanup figuring out how to fix that hole in reality they're coming from. Meanwhile, I'm on this job because I'm a loose cannon with nothing left to lose, and I intend to enjoy it to its fucking utmost." There was a level of real bitterness under her joking tone; Peace got the impression he didn't want to know.
"And me?" Dmitry said.
"I don't know, Dmitry. Do you have a last name?" She looked back at him. "You have the flaming sword, I guess we'll make you Uriel." Peace didn't get the reference.
"Volkova."
"Ah. That explains... all of dick," Diana mumbled, just loud enough for Peace to hear. Dmitry was a little further back and didn't seem to catch it.
Story: All Great Things
Colors: Lawn Green #11 (summer job)/Camo Green #1 (army), Dirt Brown #19 (rooted)
Supplies and Styles: Paint by Numbers (no heaven or hell just the land between)
Word Count: 769
Rating: PG13ish
Warnings: Nothing in particular.
Summary: Our two main characters meet Kevin's associates. They get some more information, but in turn are recruited into the hodgepodge of people trying to fix this whole "rip in reality" thing.
Comments, criticism, and questions are all appreciated.
Their eventual destination was apparently a police station. The parking lot was largely empty of cars; inside was similarly empty. It looked orderly enough, but the people inside had clearly left quickly; there was more than one half-finished cup of coffee. Peace was vaguely worried, but there were no signs of violence he could tell.
"So what the hell is going on?" Dmitry asked.
"My friends- the other people in my group- told me to come here. I presume they took over the place."
"They took over a police station?"
Kevin didn't bother to answer. The clatter of boots on tile came from down the hall from the waiting room; soon enough a woman came through the doors. She was shortish, with wavy black hair, a nice-looking dress suit, and an eyepatch.
"Diana." Kevin nodded.
"Hey, short stuff." Peace frowned; they looked the same height, outside of her boots. Diana looked up at him and a grin sprouted. "Ah, I see you find me some more help."
"Us. And yes. This is Peace and Dmitry."
Diana looked Peace up and down, obviously checking him out; he glanced to Dmitry, who was wearing a frighteningly similar grin. "Well hello there, tall, redheaded, and ah... werewolfy, I suppose? You are a werewolf, right? Right?" She looked at Kevin. "That's how you found them?"
"As far as I know," Peace said helpfully.
"Peace is. I don't know about the other one."
Peace (and everyone else) looked at Dmitry. He scoffed, then extended his hand to Diana. "Hi. I'm the other one. I think I have a magic sword and it might be trying to talk to me, not sure."
"Talk to you?" Diana said. "Let me have a look at that thing."
He held it up to her with one hand, pointing the flat of the blade at her. She looked closely at it, running her finger over it; she turned it over and felt its heft; she attempted to take it from Dmitry's hand, but he tugged it away, frowning.
"Hm." The expression on her face was sour. "Have you made any bargains lately, Dmitry? Agreements, promises, rash statements, maybe in your dreams?"
"No," he said just as sourly. "Not that I can remember."
"Any weird flashes of power or insi-"
"Fuck you," he snapped. She stood up straight and blinked at him. "I've had blackouts. I've had weird little- tics, or something- that I've had, weird stuff that I've had all my life, okay, just not this bad. Then there was this fucking sword stuck in a pile of trash in an alley. I didn't make any fucking bargains with Cthulhu or whatever and I'm pretty sure I'm not King Arthur, so what do you have left?"
"Nothing," she said without hesitation, "except that someone made a bargain with the Outer Powers and now we have demons to deal with. If you're not him, God knows what you are. Now are you here to help?"
"Demons?" Peace and Dmitry said simultaneously. "Wh- like- possessions of actual people?" Peace continued.
She waved a hand. "No. That's just what we call random things that pop up out of nowhere, look like real things, and fade away after they're dead. Well, that's the most serious name. They're kind of like Deep Ones, since you brought it up."
"They pop up out of nowhere?" Dmitry said. "Like, thin air?"
"Yep, seen it myself. Anywho, if you'd like to come back to the back with me, we've got a strategy session going on while the nice police officers who agreed to do their jobs, and a couple of other friends of mine, secure a perimeter around the worst-hit areas. The evac seems to be going nicely and in a few hours we'll be able to move in."
"Move in?" Peace asked.
"Shoot the bastards. Clear them out. You, Mr. Werewolf, will probably be on cleanup figuring out how to fix that hole in reality they're coming from. Meanwhile, I'm on this job because I'm a loose cannon with nothing left to lose, and I intend to enjoy it to its fucking utmost." There was a level of real bitterness under her joking tone; Peace got the impression he didn't want to know.
"And me?" Dmitry said.
"I don't know, Dmitry. Do you have a last name?" She looked back at him. "You have the flaming sword, I guess we'll make you Uriel." Peace didn't get the reference.
"Volkova."
"Ah. That explains... all of dick," Diana mumbled, just loud enough for Peace to hear. Dmitry was a little further back and didn't seem to catch it.
no subject
no subject
Diana... well, I'm not entirely sure which of a few things is going on with her. Guess I'll have to write that out in a bit.