|Skeren Dreamera (skeren) wrote,|
@ 2006-11-05 07:51:00
|Entry tags:||legacy of falling, original|
Legacy of Falling: Chapter Two
Notes: And it seems I may have had the plot, but it ran in terror from the idea of 'wordcount'.
His partner was a complete idiot.
He meant that in the meanest way possible too, and wished that he had a good enough excuse to slit his throat in his sleep. Suffocation was too gentle of a way for him to go after all the stunts he pulled that put their vital jobs at risk. How could he give so much warning? If he was going to do it he could at least do it the right way, with a bit of finesse!
All he ever did was make someone wary. He never made them scared. He made the idea of scaring them veer into the realm of very little possibility even, and that was the job. If they were did it, they better be recruiting or scaring, not annoying and giving forewarning of consequences when they fucked up. The people they were dealing with tended to be pretty damn powerful, and all doing it wrong ever did was make it more difficult for the people in charge. They weren't supposed to make anything more difficult for the people in charge. That brought about consequences. He'd just have to make sure it didn't get found out when the cause and affect went into motion to do something about this loose thread that it had anything to do with him.
He wasn't going to get blamed for this. Even if it was his own fault for having been late to the party. The man sitting lazily across from him at the table would bear the brunt of whatever ire might come their way in the future, if any was leveled in their direction at all, and there was no pesky loyalty that was going to get in his way either. He had a coward's heart and was proud of that fact. It kept him alive in their business and there was no shame in that fact.
Always in his life, if there was someone else to take the blame when something went wrong, he'd make sure they did. He was more than prepared to defend his position, but he was quick enough it rarely, if ever, came down to that. He played his cards right. "Satisfied with how badly you ruined that Mycene?"
The scathing tone had been utterly wasted, but he expected no less of a serenely annoying reaction than he got when the drab figure took a long draught from his beer. "Didn't ruin a thing. I know something you don't." He gestured at the door with a spidery hand, a wide grin crossing his face and showing far too many teeth for a human. "Or did you see what I saw?"
To pretend or not to? There was no point with this man. While he was annoying, an idiot, he still paid attention and used that keen eye of his to further the ambitions of whoever's side he was on. That counted for something, and that was why he was out there on this duty. He wasn't supposed to talk to people, but he was supposed to do what he was doing right now. Furthering the cause through observation. "No, I don't think that I did. What was it?"
There was a low chortle from the other man, and one oversized boot ended up on the table. He immediately waved away a barmaid who came near, her brief pause ending up with her turning to go since she hadn't seemed all that sure what she should be doing about the way the place's furniture was being treated in the first place. "The woman has a kid. She thought she was being clever, shooing her off to another part of the room before you got here, but I still knew. See? What I know, you know. Little overly powerful shit isn't as smart as she thought she was."
He chafed under the smug tone, but he only chuffed a hard breath of air, sitting up in his seat as he narrowed his eyes at the human he was trapped spending so many of his waking hours with. "You knew about this before didn't you? It's not the first time we've met with her."
The human laughed, laughed like he knew why he was really upset, and leaned forward rather abruptly with a half demented look to him. His hands went flat on the table after he slammed down his empty tankard and shoved it a bit aside. "How'd you guess?"
All the display did was scrape across his nerves. "I hope you die."
"Aww, so sweet! Is that centaur for 'I love you'?"
"No. Mycene, that was centaur for 'it would be for the best if someone gutted you in a dark alley and ripped our your spleen through your back, then caved in your head with a giant hammer while I watched on, laughing.' Understand better now?"
There was a long moment in which he could almost visibly see the man contemplating what he'd been told, and then he leaned back in his seat. "Not a bit."
"You have no idea how much I hate you at this moment."
"I know more than you think." He waved a hand as though dismissing the topic then reached for his own currently untouched beverage. "If you don't drink your beer, I will. You always waste the good stuff."
It was satisfying to stab his hand with the fork he'd gotten with his stew.