Reaching for the Sun 7: reporting in
Jul. 28th, 2006 01:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sparkindarknessI am coming back to my fic, which I really should be writing at a faster rate.
Curse you WoW!!!
Anyway, Reaching for the Sun 7 - where Rebecca learns a little more about her family than she's probably comfortable with
I arrived home almost in a daze, still a little stunned. I had gone through all the paperwork and checked the full aftermath and I was still stunned. I was waiting outside my grandfather’s study (for once happy that the old buzzard was keeping me waiting with his petty power games) ready to make my report. At the minute I think I was as likely to vomit on his desk as make any kind of report – and that might be kind of fun but it’s hardly going to improve my rep any.
I took a deep breath and tried to run my mind through all the meditation exercises they taught us as children. I am the rushing breeze, the flowing water the falling leaf, the panicking magician… Gah, this never worked for me then either; I’m never going to get that icy calm down right. I closed my eyes and focused on the new Jimmy Choos I was going to buy myself as a reward for completing this mission. My heart began to slow and my brain calmed down to a more manageable level. And they said designer labels were a waste of money. Feeling calmer I checked my pocket mirror to make sure everything was in place – it was, I was surprised. I’d have to remember this brand. With the image of my lovely shoes firmly in my head I made a decision – Grandfather didn’t have to know about Michael. After all, it was the old buzzard who told me he was dead – said he’d seen the body no less. Unless the old relic has truly gone senile and started believing his own lies I’m sure it isn’t news to him.
Unless Michael rose from the dead… I quashed the thought heavily, focusing on my shoes again. I jumped to my feet and hammered on my grandfather’s door before my calm collapsed all over again. I went in without waiting for him to answer to my knock, I have better things to do that to wait for the old man all day.
His study was dim as ever, lit only by the flickering flames from the fire and some dim faux candles. I think he tries waaay too hard at the mystic act, to be honest and I will laugh on the day all the dark light gives him cataracts. He welcomed me with his usual “oh gods my divine punishment has arrived” look while I treated him to my patented “why aren’t you dead yet?” glare. We may be ridiculously dysfunctional but at least we are consistent.
“So, do you have something to report?” His voice suggested he would be very surprised if I had.
“The Council heads who were most opposed to us suffered from a freak accident at the construction site.” I tried to sound matter of fact about it but my stomach still lurched painfully. The shoes, think of the shoes, think of the shoes. “Unfortunately it is unlikely any of them will work as councillors in the future… in light of this and mood in the area, I don’t think it is necessary for us to act any further to bring the Council into line.”
Silence rang in the room, managing to echo (and I don’t know how silence can echo, he’s probably got a “freaky moody atmosphere” subliminal tape playing in the background). He was giving me the weirdest look, kind of appraising and wary and impressed all at the same time. Either that or he had eaten grandmother’s cooking again – she will use the same pots for potions that she uses for soup. I fought to stop my feet shifting and looking nervous – calm blue ocean, the soothing breeze, the Summer Prada collection… I couldn’t help it, I dipped into his mind, tried to feel him out. His mind was nearly overwhelmed by huge waves of wariness, like a great sea. Wariness and caution with a delicate froth of meticulous care – tiny, delicate pin pricks of someone treading carefully and considering everything. A huge sea on a quivering bed of fear, a tiny core squashed down, but it was there, under it all. Through it lurched sudden spires of… yes impressed, almost awe, like volcanic islands pushing through a vast sea.
When he spoke I swayed with the effort not to jump. “Well… that certainly resolves any possible problems. Though perhaps it was a little… extreme a method.” He coughed, dustily. “Yes, a more subtle touch would have been better, but I have to commend the efficiency and practicality. Yes, most commendable.”
Do you ever have one of those moments when your whole world kind of lurches? It’s like reality itself screams ‘what the hell?!’ and everything seems to shake, just a little? I staggered on the spot and gaped openly. “They Council had an accident…” I managed in a weird, strangled voice.
He nodded calmly. “Quite so, was it a plausible accident?”
I blinked, “Y-yes, I checked the Health and Safety report – it’s just a work place accident made worse because the Councillors weren’t wearing safety equipment.” I could see the report behind my eyelids now, I’d re-read it so often.
“Very commendable. Officially plausible and we need only have a journalist write a scathing review of Health and safety practices and it will all be neatly buried. Congratulations, I am impressed.” He actually smiled at me! He SMILED at me.
I left his room in even more of a daze than I went in. I didn’t even hear him talking about future tasks, I was too busy trying to avoid that searching, appraising, bloody thoughtful look.
I don’t know what hit me hardest – that my grandfather believes I just murdered some people (murdered them for convenience sake, no less) or that he is actually praising me for it!
Shoes forgotten I plodded my way to the nearest pub. I had lots of thinking to do, but it can wait until tomorrow when my head feels right.
Curse you WoW!!!
Anyway, Reaching for the Sun 7 - where Rebecca learns a little more about her family than she's probably comfortable with
I arrived home almost in a daze, still a little stunned. I had gone through all the paperwork and checked the full aftermath and I was still stunned. I was waiting outside my grandfather’s study (for once happy that the old buzzard was keeping me waiting with his petty power games) ready to make my report. At the minute I think I was as likely to vomit on his desk as make any kind of report – and that might be kind of fun but it’s hardly going to improve my rep any.
I took a deep breath and tried to run my mind through all the meditation exercises they taught us as children. I am the rushing breeze, the flowing water the falling leaf, the panicking magician… Gah, this never worked for me then either; I’m never going to get that icy calm down right. I closed my eyes and focused on the new Jimmy Choos I was going to buy myself as a reward for completing this mission. My heart began to slow and my brain calmed down to a more manageable level. And they said designer labels were a waste of money. Feeling calmer I checked my pocket mirror to make sure everything was in place – it was, I was surprised. I’d have to remember this brand. With the image of my lovely shoes firmly in my head I made a decision – Grandfather didn’t have to know about Michael. After all, it was the old buzzard who told me he was dead – said he’d seen the body no less. Unless the old relic has truly gone senile and started believing his own lies I’m sure it isn’t news to him.
Unless Michael rose from the dead… I quashed the thought heavily, focusing on my shoes again. I jumped to my feet and hammered on my grandfather’s door before my calm collapsed all over again. I went in without waiting for him to answer to my knock, I have better things to do that to wait for the old man all day.
His study was dim as ever, lit only by the flickering flames from the fire and some dim faux candles. I think he tries waaay too hard at the mystic act, to be honest and I will laugh on the day all the dark light gives him cataracts. He welcomed me with his usual “oh gods my divine punishment has arrived” look while I treated him to my patented “why aren’t you dead yet?” glare. We may be ridiculously dysfunctional but at least we are consistent.
“So, do you have something to report?” His voice suggested he would be very surprised if I had.
“The Council heads who were most opposed to us suffered from a freak accident at the construction site.” I tried to sound matter of fact about it but my stomach still lurched painfully. The shoes, think of the shoes, think of the shoes. “Unfortunately it is unlikely any of them will work as councillors in the future… in light of this and mood in the area, I don’t think it is necessary for us to act any further to bring the Council into line.”
Silence rang in the room, managing to echo (and I don’t know how silence can echo, he’s probably got a “freaky moody atmosphere” subliminal tape playing in the background). He was giving me the weirdest look, kind of appraising and wary and impressed all at the same time. Either that or he had eaten grandmother’s cooking again – she will use the same pots for potions that she uses for soup. I fought to stop my feet shifting and looking nervous – calm blue ocean, the soothing breeze, the Summer Prada collection… I couldn’t help it, I dipped into his mind, tried to feel him out. His mind was nearly overwhelmed by huge waves of wariness, like a great sea. Wariness and caution with a delicate froth of meticulous care – tiny, delicate pin pricks of someone treading carefully and considering everything. A huge sea on a quivering bed of fear, a tiny core squashed down, but it was there, under it all. Through it lurched sudden spires of… yes impressed, almost awe, like volcanic islands pushing through a vast sea.
When he spoke I swayed with the effort not to jump. “Well… that certainly resolves any possible problems. Though perhaps it was a little… extreme a method.” He coughed, dustily. “Yes, a more subtle touch would have been better, but I have to commend the efficiency and practicality. Yes, most commendable.”
Do you ever have one of those moments when your whole world kind of lurches? It’s like reality itself screams ‘what the hell?!’ and everything seems to shake, just a little? I staggered on the spot and gaped openly. “They Council had an accident…” I managed in a weird, strangled voice.
He nodded calmly. “Quite so, was it a plausible accident?”
I blinked, “Y-yes, I checked the Health and Safety report – it’s just a work place accident made worse because the Councillors weren’t wearing safety equipment.” I could see the report behind my eyelids now, I’d re-read it so often.
“Very commendable. Officially plausible and we need only have a journalist write a scathing review of Health and safety practices and it will all be neatly buried. Congratulations, I am impressed.” He actually smiled at me! He SMILED at me.
I left his room in even more of a daze than I went in. I didn’t even hear him talking about future tasks, I was too busy trying to avoid that searching, appraising, bloody thoughtful look.
I don’t know what hit me hardest – that my grandfather believes I just murdered some people (murdered them for convenience sake, no less) or that he is actually praising me for it!
Shoes forgotten I plodded my way to the nearest pub. I had lots of thinking to do, but it can wait until tomorrow when my head feels right.