*pets the bird*
Sep. 15th, 2008 04:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lavandarlizard2A little something extra for Sunny since she's having a bad day. (O)(O)(O)(O)(O)
Hang in there. ^.o
Michael jumped back. “No way! All I had to do was *touch* it?! Well, now I feel like a dumbass.”
Duo snorted and sent another, larger, fairy light into the space beyond. “Not that there’s any compelling reason for you – or your father, for that matter – to be weaseling around Ctik’s space.”
“Well… yeah… But that’s so simple!” He tried to see over Duo’s shoulder. “What’s in there?”
Duo stepped to the side with a sigh. “Absolutely nothing.”
The room, about four meters by four, with a height of perhaps two-and-a-half meters, was empty. No coffin, no earth; no sign of anything ever having been there. Even the dirt floor looked undisturbed.
“But…” began Michael in confusion. “Where did Ctik sleep? I thought he’d have a coffin…”
Duo expanded the light even further and found some small indentations on the floor. “Looks like he did, at some point. I’d say your dad was making sure that Ctik couldn’t come back here.”
Michael stared into the empty room. “He really wanted to kill Ctik…” he whispered. A faint gulp that Duo pretended not to hear. “Shit…”
“Yeah.” He moved further into the room and searched with his Banshee senses. A faint lingering odor of alcohol, old and sour. Something flowery; cologne, perhaps. A bit of a tang; probably blood. Wood. Fresh cut – or broken – wood. And a final scent that Duo was very familiar with – fresh-turned earth; green, sweet and smile-making. He squatted down to examine the floor more closely and found the signs of activity; some small scrapes and gouges, a couple of long drag marks and over that, the even strokes of a broom.
He had to give Miles credit; he’d done a helluva lot of work to clear the crypt of any sign of Ctik’s presence in only the dusk to dawn hours that Ctik was away. No wonder he’d stoked up on liquid courage. Fuckwit.
Michael had also followed the dots and come up with the same picture. “I hate him,” he whispered. “I fuckin’ *hate* him!”
Hang in there. ^.o
Michael jumped back. “No way! All I had to do was *touch* it?! Well, now I feel like a dumbass.”
Duo snorted and sent another, larger, fairy light into the space beyond. “Not that there’s any compelling reason for you – or your father, for that matter – to be weaseling around Ctik’s space.”
“Well… yeah… But that’s so simple!” He tried to see over Duo’s shoulder. “What’s in there?”
Duo stepped to the side with a sigh. “Absolutely nothing.”
The room, about four meters by four, with a height of perhaps two-and-a-half meters, was empty. No coffin, no earth; no sign of anything ever having been there. Even the dirt floor looked undisturbed.
“But…” began Michael in confusion. “Where did Ctik sleep? I thought he’d have a coffin…”
Duo expanded the light even further and found some small indentations on the floor. “Looks like he did, at some point. I’d say your dad was making sure that Ctik couldn’t come back here.”
Michael stared into the empty room. “He really wanted to kill Ctik…” he whispered. A faint gulp that Duo pretended not to hear. “Shit…”
“Yeah.” He moved further into the room and searched with his Banshee senses. A faint lingering odor of alcohol, old and sour. Something flowery; cologne, perhaps. A bit of a tang; probably blood. Wood. Fresh cut – or broken – wood. And a final scent that Duo was very familiar with – fresh-turned earth; green, sweet and smile-making. He squatted down to examine the floor more closely and found the signs of activity; some small scrapes and gouges, a couple of long drag marks and over that, the even strokes of a broom.
He had to give Miles credit; he’d done a helluva lot of work to clear the crypt of any sign of Ctik’s presence in only the dusk to dawn hours that Ctik was away. No wonder he’d stoked up on liquid courage. Fuckwit.
Michael had also followed the dots and come up with the same picture. “I hate him,” he whispered. “I fuckin’ *hate* him!”
