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rainbowfic2014-06-23 04:19 pm
kay_brooke) wrote in rainbowfic2014-06-23 04:19 pm
Entry tags:
Amaranth #12, Cinnabar #19
Name: kay_brooke
Story: David/Cleaner
Colors: Amaranth #12 (Philosopher's Stone), Cinnabar #19 (Sophic)
Styles/Supplies: N/A
Word Count: 1,080
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply.
Summary: There's definitely something wrong with that rock.
Note: Entirely through coincidence I had the prompt "philosopher's stone" available in two separate colors. So there is a connection between this and the last piece I posted. Originally written for a prompt call in March. Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
Antonio paced back and forth in front of the locked door, biting his fingernails to nubs and glancing at his watch every few seconds. Every time he convinced himself to calm down, his gaze fell to the green backpack leaning against the building's brick facade, and his pacing began anew.
After at least three eternities a battered Ford Fiesta chugged into the parking lot and pulled into the space right next to the door.
“Casey,” said Antonio, barely refraining from leaping across the concrete barrier and tackling her in a hug. “Thank god you’re here.”
“Two in the morning, Ant, this had better be good.” Casey shuffled out of the car, her hair covered with a bandana and her thin frame dwarfed in a baggy black hoodie. “You know I was gonna come in tomorrow anyway. Today. This couldn't have waited?”
“No,” said Antonio, picking up the green backpack.
Casey took a keyring out of the hoodie pocket and unlocked the door. “Well, come on,” she said, reaching inside and flipping a switch. Fluorescent lights flickered on, illuminating a long hallway. “Never thought I'd be called out for an emergency rock identification, so thanks for that.”
She expected banter back; that was how he and Casey had always communicated. But Antonio was still too freaked out to play his part. So he just hurried in after her, keeping the bag close in case she had a similar reaction to Sarah.
“Okay?” said Casey, closing the door behind her. “This must be serious.”
The lab she led him to was a smaller room than what Antonio had pictured, full of empty stainless steel tables and cabinets lining the walls. Casey went to one of the tables, switched on a lamp, pulled over a stool, and said, “Let's have it.”
“Where's all the equipment?” said Antonio, his grip on the bag tightening. “Don't you need stuff to help you identify it?”
Casey jerked her thumb toward the cabinets. “We lock everything up at night. And I won’t know if I'll need specialized equipment until I see what you actually have.” She held her hand out.
Antonio took a deep breath, set down the backpack, and slowly unzipped it. He kept one eye on Casey, in case she started flipping out. But she just rolled his eyes at him and made a “get on with it” motion.
It was wrapped in his sweatshirt, and he took the whole bundle out, unrolling it on the table to reveal the rock. It sparkled slightly under the lamplight, pinks and oranges shimmering across its surface. Antonio flinched.
“Oh, pretty,” said Casey, leaning over it. She picked it up, and Antonio nearly leapt to stop her, but the rock seemed to have no effect. She turned it in her hands, watching as colors seemed to ripple through it. “Where did you find this?”
“Why do you ask? Do you know what it is?”
She shook her head. “This is bad, Ant. This is really bad.”
His breath caught in his throat. “Is it something dangerous?”
She gave him a long-suffering look and placed the rock back on its sweatshirt cushion. “I was joking, Ant. Does your sense of humor, like, turn off every night or something?”
“Do you know what it is?” He was pacing again, and he forced his feet to be still. “Well?”
“One track mind, too,” said Casey. “Fine, I'll play. It's quartz, Ant.”
“Quartz?”
She nodded. “The second most abundant mineral on earth. With flakes of probably mica in it—that's what causes the shimmer. I'd need a microscope to tell you exactly, but there's nothing rare about this rock, and there's especially nothing dangerous. Or worth getting me out of bed in the middle of the night, so what gives, Ant? I'd say you were pulling a prank, but it's not funny and I don't think you are anyway.” She looked him up and down. “You're way too jumpy. What's really going on?”
Antonio pointed at the rock. “It can't just be quartz. There has to be something else to it. You didn't see what that rock did.”
Casey rested her chin on her hands. “Then tell me.”
“You remember Sarah?”
“That chick you work with, yeah. Came to the barbeque last summer.”
Antonio slumped onto a stool. “She was driving me home tonight, and when we get to my house this guy just comes stumbling out of the shadows, screaming that he's been mugged. His hand's all messed up, too, at least two fingers broken. So I call an ambulance for him, he goes off in it, it's all over, right?” Antonio rubbed his face. “Except the guy left behind his jacket. It's just sitting there on the hood of my car. I go to move it, that rock rolls out of the pocket. And Sarah--” He stopped, because he had no idea how to describe what had happened next. “She just kind of . . . froze, I guess. Staring at it. Then she starts screaming, telling me to get it away from her, that it's doing something to her head.” He'd pulled off his sweatshirt and wrapped the rock in it, which had calmed Sarah down enough to insist that she was fine to drive home. “And she can't even explain what's so wrong about it, just that it is.”
“Huh,” said Casey. “Well, obviously I didn't see it happen, but is it possible there's something else going on? Maybe she just . . . had a breakdown, and the rock didn't really have anything to do with it?”
“I don't know.”
“Has anyone else reacted that way?”
“You're the only person I've shown it to.”
“And we're both fine.” Casey rolled the rock back and forth a little bit. “It's just a rock, Ant. I don't think it's the source of your friend's problem.”
“You don't know Sarah like I do,” said Antonio. “She's not the type to freak out like this.” Then again, she had been pretty stressed lately, their boss on her case for something or other, that complaint the Ellingsworth family had filed against her, their last disastrous field assignment--maybe she wasn't the type to freak out over stuff like that individually, but happening all at once . . .
Antonio sighed, ashamed that he had pulled Casey out of bed for something so ridiculous. Maybe the stress was getting to him, too. “I'm sorry, Casey. You're probably right. It's just a rock.”
Under the light, the rock shimmered.
kay_brookeStory: David/Cleaner
Colors: Amaranth #12 (Philosopher's Stone), Cinnabar #19 (Sophic)
Styles/Supplies: N/A
Word Count: 1,080
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply.
Summary: There's definitely something wrong with that rock.
Note: Entirely through coincidence I had the prompt "philosopher's stone" available in two separate colors. So there is a connection between this and the last piece I posted. Originally written for a prompt call in March. Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
Antonio paced back and forth in front of the locked door, biting his fingernails to nubs and glancing at his watch every few seconds. Every time he convinced himself to calm down, his gaze fell to the green backpack leaning against the building's brick facade, and his pacing began anew.
After at least three eternities a battered Ford Fiesta chugged into the parking lot and pulled into the space right next to the door.
“Casey,” said Antonio, barely refraining from leaping across the concrete barrier and tackling her in a hug. “Thank god you’re here.”
“Two in the morning, Ant, this had better be good.” Casey shuffled out of the car, her hair covered with a bandana and her thin frame dwarfed in a baggy black hoodie. “You know I was gonna come in tomorrow anyway. Today. This couldn't have waited?”
“No,” said Antonio, picking up the green backpack.
Casey took a keyring out of the hoodie pocket and unlocked the door. “Well, come on,” she said, reaching inside and flipping a switch. Fluorescent lights flickered on, illuminating a long hallway. “Never thought I'd be called out for an emergency rock identification, so thanks for that.”
She expected banter back; that was how he and Casey had always communicated. But Antonio was still too freaked out to play his part. So he just hurried in after her, keeping the bag close in case she had a similar reaction to Sarah.
“Okay?” said Casey, closing the door behind her. “This must be serious.”
The lab she led him to was a smaller room than what Antonio had pictured, full of empty stainless steel tables and cabinets lining the walls. Casey went to one of the tables, switched on a lamp, pulled over a stool, and said, “Let's have it.”
“Where's all the equipment?” said Antonio, his grip on the bag tightening. “Don't you need stuff to help you identify it?”
Casey jerked her thumb toward the cabinets. “We lock everything up at night. And I won’t know if I'll need specialized equipment until I see what you actually have.” She held her hand out.
Antonio took a deep breath, set down the backpack, and slowly unzipped it. He kept one eye on Casey, in case she started flipping out. But she just rolled his eyes at him and made a “get on with it” motion.
It was wrapped in his sweatshirt, and he took the whole bundle out, unrolling it on the table to reveal the rock. It sparkled slightly under the lamplight, pinks and oranges shimmering across its surface. Antonio flinched.
“Oh, pretty,” said Casey, leaning over it. She picked it up, and Antonio nearly leapt to stop her, but the rock seemed to have no effect. She turned it in her hands, watching as colors seemed to ripple through it. “Where did you find this?”
“Why do you ask? Do you know what it is?”
She shook her head. “This is bad, Ant. This is really bad.”
His breath caught in his throat. “Is it something dangerous?”
She gave him a long-suffering look and placed the rock back on its sweatshirt cushion. “I was joking, Ant. Does your sense of humor, like, turn off every night or something?”
“Do you know what it is?” He was pacing again, and he forced his feet to be still. “Well?”
“One track mind, too,” said Casey. “Fine, I'll play. It's quartz, Ant.”
“Quartz?”
She nodded. “The second most abundant mineral on earth. With flakes of probably mica in it—that's what causes the shimmer. I'd need a microscope to tell you exactly, but there's nothing rare about this rock, and there's especially nothing dangerous. Or worth getting me out of bed in the middle of the night, so what gives, Ant? I'd say you were pulling a prank, but it's not funny and I don't think you are anyway.” She looked him up and down. “You're way too jumpy. What's really going on?”
Antonio pointed at the rock. “It can't just be quartz. There has to be something else to it. You didn't see what that rock did.”
Casey rested her chin on her hands. “Then tell me.”
“You remember Sarah?”
“That chick you work with, yeah. Came to the barbeque last summer.”
Antonio slumped onto a stool. “She was driving me home tonight, and when we get to my house this guy just comes stumbling out of the shadows, screaming that he's been mugged. His hand's all messed up, too, at least two fingers broken. So I call an ambulance for him, he goes off in it, it's all over, right?” Antonio rubbed his face. “Except the guy left behind his jacket. It's just sitting there on the hood of my car. I go to move it, that rock rolls out of the pocket. And Sarah--” He stopped, because he had no idea how to describe what had happened next. “She just kind of . . . froze, I guess. Staring at it. Then she starts screaming, telling me to get it away from her, that it's doing something to her head.” He'd pulled off his sweatshirt and wrapped the rock in it, which had calmed Sarah down enough to insist that she was fine to drive home. “And she can't even explain what's so wrong about it, just that it is.”
“Huh,” said Casey. “Well, obviously I didn't see it happen, but is it possible there's something else going on? Maybe she just . . . had a breakdown, and the rock didn't really have anything to do with it?”
“I don't know.”
“Has anyone else reacted that way?”
“You're the only person I've shown it to.”
“And we're both fine.” Casey rolled the rock back and forth a little bit. “It's just a rock, Ant. I don't think it's the source of your friend's problem.”
“You don't know Sarah like I do,” said Antonio. “She's not the type to freak out like this.” Then again, she had been pretty stressed lately, their boss on her case for something or other, that complaint the Ellingsworth family had filed against her, their last disastrous field assignment--maybe she wasn't the type to freak out over stuff like that individually, but happening all at once . . .
Antonio sighed, ashamed that he had pulled Casey out of bed for something so ridiculous. Maybe the stress was getting to him, too. “I'm sorry, Casey. You're probably right. It's just a rock.”
Under the light, the rock shimmered.
no subject
Nicely done.
no subject
Thanks for reading!