Chimaera (2)
Nov. 19th, 2005 11:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rosipheleeAs all I'd managed to acheive by 11pm was to buy a book, read said book and make more Nimbus icons, I decided I'd better do something to make the day worth staying awake through. Therefore, another little snippet. This one really was written in 45 minutes, including research but not proof-reading.
In the previous episode Ocelot and Tiger were searching for a lead after a string of dead half-human chimaeras were discovered on the docks of Atlantis. Ocelot encountered the mysterious Mr Nix and attempted to procure an invitation...
6pm, Friday 7th November, 2369, Aurelius Lane, Central Atlantis
Charlotte grinned to herself as she dashed up the stairs from the tram stop. Work had been as tedious as usual, so dull she could afford to doze the day away. It wasn’t as if they could fire the managing director’s spoilt baby sister.
The triumph of the day had been the letter which appeared on her desk while she was out at lunch. It was perhaps a matter for concern that it had come through the internal mail but let the villains play their power games. She’d pass word through the system and make sure the Fellow-Komiyama security office were aware of the leak.
She pressed her hand against the door and the lock hummed. She heard it click but waited for the spell.
Magic moved over her, cool and silken. Then it pulled back and she pushed the door open, eager to share her news.
Emli was asleep on the sofa, head thrown back and shoes kicked across the room. Her hair spilled over the arm, a tangle of blonde and white, and she was snoring faintly.
Charlotte sighed. She’d begrudge no one in their line of work any sleep they could seize. It wasn’t as if Emli would sleep in front of anyone else. She dropped the invitation on the table where Em would see it as soon as she woke, moved her shoes to somewhere where they wouldn’t be a trip hazard and continued through the kitchen.
Pulling a silence shield across the door took a moment’s thought and she whispered to the kettle and checked the cupboards. Emli didn’t understand why she enjoyed cooking when the machine would do it, and, as she was the one who shopped, ingredients could be in sparse supply.
Charlotte was chopping peppers when she felt the shield thrum. As it was the equivalent of a polite knock on the door, she only picked up one knife when she turned round.
“A faceful of raw onion would work just as well as a weapon,” Emli said and wrinkled her nose. “No need to worry about vampires here.”
“I like garlic. Long day?”
“Another body. Dog genes, they think. Dock Seven.”
“Damn. Did you see…?”
“I did. Master Theodore Nix kindly requests the presence of Mistress Charlotte Fellows at The Sons of Horus Dancehall, Little Oslo, at 8pm tonight. On hand-pressed card. Bit pretentious, our Mr Nix. Do we have any chocolate?”
“You did the shopping. Get out of the fridge, woman, I’m making dinner.”
“You sound like my mother. I’m three hundred and sixty years old.”
“And sixteen when it comes to chocolate.” Charlotte threatened her with her wooden spoon. “Out.”
Emli retreated, smiling slightly. She’d obviously found the chocolate buttons hidden in the butter dish. Damn. She’d been saving those.
“Is the club where I think it is?” Charlotte asked, sending chopped peppers floating over her head to drop into the pan. “Little Oslo's not exactly high society.”
“Perhaps that’s the point. It might be nothing more than that. The club’s dodgy but we’ve never managed to link it to any of the businesses for certain. This could just be a bit of carefully choreographed danger for the spangly set.”
“I’m one of the spangly set. Besides, leave no lead uncovered, right. And even if this isn’t the chimaera case, Nix is dirty. I told you he tried to read me.”
“It’s the chimaera situation I’m being pushed on. And you’re not a spangle. You have a brain.”
“Thanks. If Nix isn’t part of this, at least we can deal with him before he becomes the next crisis. Stop letting the commissioner get to you.”
“The commissioner’s a wanker.”
“Don’t want to speculate.”
“But he’s right. We can’t afford to waste time on this.”
“Fine. He’s a wanker on the side of the angels. Doesn’t give him the right to tell us how to do our jobs. Pass me some plates.”
“Airborne to your right.” Emli cocked her head at a bleep from the living room. “That’ll be the floor plans. We’ll have to assume modifications.”
They ate on the floor, projections of the club spinning between them. It wasn’t large but there were several points of access from the surrounding area.
“According to Sergei,” Emli said, scraping another forkful up, “the surrounding residential block all belongs to a corporation called N. D. Niall and partners. Ring a bell?”
“In denial?” Charlotte said, raising an eyebrow.
Emli’s eyes widened and she put her fork down. “Or in the Nile. Sons of Horus, the Nile – someone’s taking the piss. Sergei, research!”
There was a crackle from her com and Sergei Taussig’s voice said, “On to it, boss.”
“Theodore Nix,” Charlotte said, raking patterns across her risotto. “Theo Nix. Phoenix.”
“Chimaera,” Emli said thoughtfully and met her eyes.
“Sphinx.”
The com crackled again and Sergei said, “Boss. In Egyptian mythology the sons of Horus were the gods who guarded the contents of the funeral jars. They were the guardians of the bodies of the dead.”
“And Horus, of course,” Emli said, “was the son of Osiris, who ruled the underworld. Trust bloody Sphinx to be melodramatic.”
In the previous episode Ocelot and Tiger were searching for a lead after a string of dead half-human chimaeras were discovered on the docks of Atlantis. Ocelot encountered the mysterious Mr Nix and attempted to procure an invitation...
6pm, Friday 7th November, 2369, Aurelius Lane, Central Atlantis
Charlotte grinned to herself as she dashed up the stairs from the tram stop. Work had been as tedious as usual, so dull she could afford to doze the day away. It wasn’t as if they could fire the managing director’s spoilt baby sister.
The triumph of the day had been the letter which appeared on her desk while she was out at lunch. It was perhaps a matter for concern that it had come through the internal mail but let the villains play their power games. She’d pass word through the system and make sure the Fellow-Komiyama security office were aware of the leak.
She pressed her hand against the door and the lock hummed. She heard it click but waited for the spell.
Magic moved over her, cool and silken. Then it pulled back and she pushed the door open, eager to share her news.
Emli was asleep on the sofa, head thrown back and shoes kicked across the room. Her hair spilled over the arm, a tangle of blonde and white, and she was snoring faintly.
Charlotte sighed. She’d begrudge no one in their line of work any sleep they could seize. It wasn’t as if Emli would sleep in front of anyone else. She dropped the invitation on the table where Em would see it as soon as she woke, moved her shoes to somewhere where they wouldn’t be a trip hazard and continued through the kitchen.
Pulling a silence shield across the door took a moment’s thought and she whispered to the kettle and checked the cupboards. Emli didn’t understand why she enjoyed cooking when the machine would do it, and, as she was the one who shopped, ingredients could be in sparse supply.
Charlotte was chopping peppers when she felt the shield thrum. As it was the equivalent of a polite knock on the door, she only picked up one knife when she turned round.
“A faceful of raw onion would work just as well as a weapon,” Emli said and wrinkled her nose. “No need to worry about vampires here.”
“I like garlic. Long day?”
“Another body. Dog genes, they think. Dock Seven.”
“Damn. Did you see…?”
“I did. Master Theodore Nix kindly requests the presence of Mistress Charlotte Fellows at The Sons of Horus Dancehall, Little Oslo, at 8pm tonight. On hand-pressed card. Bit pretentious, our Mr Nix. Do we have any chocolate?”
“You did the shopping. Get out of the fridge, woman, I’m making dinner.”
“You sound like my mother. I’m three hundred and sixty years old.”
“And sixteen when it comes to chocolate.” Charlotte threatened her with her wooden spoon. “Out.”
Emli retreated, smiling slightly. She’d obviously found the chocolate buttons hidden in the butter dish. Damn. She’d been saving those.
“Is the club where I think it is?” Charlotte asked, sending chopped peppers floating over her head to drop into the pan. “Little Oslo's not exactly high society.”
“Perhaps that’s the point. It might be nothing more than that. The club’s dodgy but we’ve never managed to link it to any of the businesses for certain. This could just be a bit of carefully choreographed danger for the spangly set.”
“I’m one of the spangly set. Besides, leave no lead uncovered, right. And even if this isn’t the chimaera case, Nix is dirty. I told you he tried to read me.”
“It’s the chimaera situation I’m being pushed on. And you’re not a spangle. You have a brain.”
“Thanks. If Nix isn’t part of this, at least we can deal with him before he becomes the next crisis. Stop letting the commissioner get to you.”
“The commissioner’s a wanker.”
“Don’t want to speculate.”
“But he’s right. We can’t afford to waste time on this.”
“Fine. He’s a wanker on the side of the angels. Doesn’t give him the right to tell us how to do our jobs. Pass me some plates.”
“Airborne to your right.” Emli cocked her head at a bleep from the living room. “That’ll be the floor plans. We’ll have to assume modifications.”
They ate on the floor, projections of the club spinning between them. It wasn’t large but there were several points of access from the surrounding area.
“According to Sergei,” Emli said, scraping another forkful up, “the surrounding residential block all belongs to a corporation called N. D. Niall and partners. Ring a bell?”
“In denial?” Charlotte said, raising an eyebrow.
Emli’s eyes widened and she put her fork down. “Or in the Nile. Sons of Horus, the Nile – someone’s taking the piss. Sergei, research!”
There was a crackle from her com and Sergei Taussig’s voice said, “On to it, boss.”
“Theodore Nix,” Charlotte said, raking patterns across her risotto. “Theo Nix. Phoenix.”
“Chimaera,” Emli said thoughtfully and met her eyes.
“Sphinx.”
The com crackled again and Sergei said, “Boss. In Egyptian mythology the sons of Horus were the gods who guarded the contents of the funeral jars. They were the guardians of the bodies of the dead.”
“And Horus, of course,” Emli said, “was the son of Osiris, who ruled the underworld. Trust bloody Sphinx to be melodramatic.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-11-26 01:25 pm (UTC)"Charlotte was chopping peppers when she felt the shield thrum. As it was the equivalent of a polite knock on the door, she only picked up one knife when she turned round."
- Gosh, that was nice of her. ;) I liked that.
I don't know what to nag you for now.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-26 08:42 pm (UTC)Good ol' paranoia. Where would my lot be without it?
Thanks for reading.