"Here Goes Nothing."
Dec. 3rd, 2010 08:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
vixenmageYes, I'm finally writing a spin-off. The only question, at the moment, is whether I want to do assassins or cafeteria workers/foragers. I'm leaning heavily towards the latter, but time will tell.
Firstly: These chips aren't just salty, they're LIMEY and salty. Most excellent.
Secondly: The trees in this plaza, I have noticed, are very tastefully lit. Far better than the old West Haven green, or Milford, for that matter.
Thirdly: I'm wondering, now, where you are. It's been about half an hour since we were supposed to meet, the stores are beginning to clear out, and still no sign of my inter-dimensional friend. I would worry, if it wasn't so counter-productive.
"Counter-productive or not, this is beginning to be worrisome," Lyn said aloud, putting down the notebook to glance around. Mohan was still nowhere in sight, and this was a rather important meeting. She wondered if he'd had trouble finding a portal. As she began to contemplate the relative risks and potential benefits of trying to contact him, there was a faintly musical swishing noise, like the wind on a ghostly set of chimes. The darkness parted, and a frosty grey glow spread in the empty space between the curb and the well-lit tree before it. After a moment, there was a sharper noise-- no louder, but with distinct edges-- the sound of the membranes of reality being parted, and he stepped through, into the First World.
"Hmmmm," he said, glancing around. Lyn stood, crumpling the empty chip bag into her knapsack, and grinned up at him. He was well lit in profile, by the glow of the portal, and she studied him for the moment before it began to fade out. He was significantly taller than her-- given, that wasn't hard to do to a girl who was 5'6", but at 8'10", Mohan stood significantly taller than most human beings. You might mistake him for one at the first glance, if there was a fair distance and poor lighting, but the second glance wouldn't be able to hide it-- he was most definitely not human... barely humanoid, in fact. He was covered in smooth, light brown fur, and if the three-segmented arms didn't give away the rest, the long, catlike tail behind him definitely would. Lyn had known him for years now, and was entirely used to the unorthodox appearance he presented. Like most of the L'ang of his civilization, the fur atop his head was a bit longer, and he generally spiked it against the natural grain.
"I'm not late, am I? Mislaid this bedratted uniform, it took me half the morning to find it."
She shrugged. "A bit, but it's no big deal. We've just got--" she stopped short, glaring down at the now-dim portal. There'd been no noise this time, but a small shape (relatively speaking, of course) had appeared behind him. "...Mohan, is that Tig?"
He looked back, frowned down at the shape, and swore loudly. "I locked him out! Tig, you little monster!"
Lyn rubbed her forehead tiredly, then shrugged. "Not much we can do now, Mohan. We're going to be late if we wait any longer. Let's just bring him, and hope he can stay out of trouble."
Nodding assent, the ex-pirate, soon-to-be-assassin stooped and picked up the cat, who weighed a good ten pounds and was built like a bobcat. He looked like a kitten in the L'ang's arms. "Got the... device?"
She reached into the knapsack and held up the Portal Generator. "Yup. Ready when you are, dude." He grinned reassuringly as she punched in the coordinates, double-checking against the little piece of paper that had come with it, and inhaled sharply when the portal popped into existence, casting a much sharper purpley light over their surroundings. Lyn gave him a shaky sort of smile. "Here goes nothing," she whispered, and stepped through the door to PPC HQ. Mohan followed, Tig's distinctive mew heralding the way.
Firstly: These chips aren't just salty, they're LIMEY and salty. Most excellent.
Secondly: The trees in this plaza, I have noticed, are very tastefully lit. Far better than the old West Haven green, or Milford, for that matter.
Thirdly: I'm wondering, now, where you are. It's been about half an hour since we were supposed to meet, the stores are beginning to clear out, and still no sign of my inter-dimensional friend. I would worry, if it wasn't so counter-productive.
"Counter-productive or not, this is beginning to be worrisome," Lyn said aloud, putting down the notebook to glance around. Mohan was still nowhere in sight, and this was a rather important meeting. She wondered if he'd had trouble finding a portal. As she began to contemplate the relative risks and potential benefits of trying to contact him, there was a faintly musical swishing noise, like the wind on a ghostly set of chimes. The darkness parted, and a frosty grey glow spread in the empty space between the curb and the well-lit tree before it. After a moment, there was a sharper noise-- no louder, but with distinct edges-- the sound of the membranes of reality being parted, and he stepped through, into the First World.
"Hmmmm," he said, glancing around. Lyn stood, crumpling the empty chip bag into her knapsack, and grinned up at him. He was well lit in profile, by the glow of the portal, and she studied him for the moment before it began to fade out. He was significantly taller than her-- given, that wasn't hard to do to a girl who was 5'6", but at 8'10", Mohan stood significantly taller than most human beings. You might mistake him for one at the first glance, if there was a fair distance and poor lighting, but the second glance wouldn't be able to hide it-- he was most definitely not human... barely humanoid, in fact. He was covered in smooth, light brown fur, and if the three-segmented arms didn't give away the rest, the long, catlike tail behind him definitely would. Lyn had known him for years now, and was entirely used to the unorthodox appearance he presented. Like most of the L'ang of his civilization, the fur atop his head was a bit longer, and he generally spiked it against the natural grain.
"I'm not late, am I? Mislaid this bedratted uniform, it took me half the morning to find it."
She shrugged. "A bit, but it's no big deal. We've just got--" she stopped short, glaring down at the now-dim portal. There'd been no noise this time, but a small shape (relatively speaking, of course) had appeared behind him. "...Mohan, is that Tig?"
He looked back, frowned down at the shape, and swore loudly. "I locked him out! Tig, you little monster!"
Lyn rubbed her forehead tiredly, then shrugged. "Not much we can do now, Mohan. We're going to be late if we wait any longer. Let's just bring him, and hope he can stay out of trouble."
Nodding assent, the ex-pirate, soon-to-be-assassin stooped and picked up the cat, who weighed a good ten pounds and was built like a bobcat. He looked like a kitten in the L'ang's arms. "Got the... device?"
She reached into the knapsack and held up the Portal Generator. "Yup. Ready when you are, dude." He grinned reassuringly as she punched in the coordinates, double-checking against the little piece of paper that had come with it, and inhaled sharply when the portal popped into existence, casting a much sharper purpley light over their surroundings. Lyn gave him a shaky sort of smile. "Here goes nothing," she whispered, and stepped through the door to PPC HQ. Mohan followed, Tig's distinctive mew heralding the way.
