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writers_muses Prompt 66
Dec. 13th, 2008 12:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
a_pretty_fireWinifred Burkle was used to being watched. She often felt Knox’s eyes on the back of her head as she worked in the lab. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but it wasn’t as nice as the moments when she became aware of Wesley’s gaze. Not that she was sure he was actually watching her. Every time she looked up, he turned back to the book in front of him, or the apparently serious conversation he was having with Angel. Maybe she was imagining things. Or maybe she was imagining that she was imagining things …
Either way, this was different. For a start, she was being watched by a woman. Not that she had a problem with that, of course, but it was kind of weird when it was a woman she’d never actually met before.
“Can I help you?”
“Oh no. You don’t have time to help me. Can’t you hear it? It’s all slipping away. The hourglass is running out of sand.”
“It is?” Fred raised an eyebrow, studying the woman who had now emerged from the shadows at the edge of the lab to stand in front of her. She was pale, and a little spaced out, as if she had spent the best part of the day smoking things that could get even the most serious physics student into trouble.
“Well, we’re usually very good at the 'last minute rescue' sort of stuff,” Fred continued, “That’s why we’re here. You know, Wolfram and Hart, helping the helpless …”
She paused, and gave the woman a sheepish grin. She was all too aware of the real connotations of the name ‘Wolfram and Hart’. They all were.
“We changed the motto,” she added helpfully, “We’re still working on changing the reputation.”
“I know,” said the woman as she continued to move forward, and Fred had to look down at her feet to make sure she was actually walking. There was something strange about the way she moved. It didn’t look as if she was walking at all. She managed to glide with both feet on the ground. “The city is shaking with it.”
“Angel has always been good at causing controversy.”
“Not just Angel.” The woman picked up a test tube an examined it, although her eyes were fixed on Fred with an intensity that frightened her. Fred got the distinct impression that this strange woman was looking not just at her, but through her as well. She didn’t like it. “All of you. The jigsaw doesn’t work when one of the pieces is missing.”
“I don’t really know what you mean …” said Fred carefully, getting ready to shout for Wesley or Angel or whoever happened to be nearest. How had this woman managed to get it? She couldn’t be human. Not with eyes like that. Angel was usually very careful when it came to letting people into the building, but this woman – dressed in ragged black and red lace and now running crimson nails across the surface of Fred’s desk – didn’t exactly have a security pass pinned to her lapel.
“Can’t you hear it?” she asked softly, eyes flickering briefly to the clock on the wall before returning to Fred’s face. “Tick tick ticking away.”
“It’s a digital clock. It doesn’t tick.”
“But the universe does. The Circle is breaking.”
“What circle? I don’t …”
“You don’t know,” said the woman with a rather musical laugh. Her soft, silken voice contrasted drastically with her dark eyes. “You’ll never know. You’re too small. You’re too small, but she isn’t. She isn’t.”
Fred drew herself up to her full height – which, admittedly, wasn’t very much – and put her hands on her hips.
“I think you should leave.”
“She’s going to walk again. She’s getting ready. I can hear her stirring.”
The woman threw up her hands suddenly, clutching at her head. Fred had to resist the urge to start forward. There was no way to tell if her pain was genuine or not, no matter how acute it seemed to be.
“Dust,” she whimpered, “Nothing but dust.”
“Are you ok?” Fred exclaimed, horrified.
“It won’t work. They need all the pieces. They need all the pieces or …”
“Fred?”
That was Wesley’s voice and therefore one Fred responded to instinctively. She turned her head, and, when she turned back, the woman was gone. Not merely running away, but actually gone. The shadows had swallowed her up. Or she’d jumped out of the nearest open window, but that wasn’t quite as dramatic.
Definitely not human, then.
“Fred?” Wesley appeared in the doorway of the lab, holding a folder neatly under one arm. “I’ve finished the translation of the Elder Futhark inscriptions, and I thought you might like to … are you alright?”
“What? Oh, I’m fine.” I think. “Why don’t you bring the runes, I’ll grab some tacos and we can go through them together?”
“That sounds like an excellent idea.”
“They don’t mention anything about circles, do they?”
“Circles? No, I’m afraid not. Although the symbol representing the ancient deity Ingwaz is moderately cyclic. Is that significant?”
“That depends. What does Ingwaz do, exactly?”
“He was a relatively peaceful god, actually. His main purpose was to bestow peace and pleasure on mortals.”
“Then I think we’re set,” said Fred, leading the way out of the lab.
If something cropped up, she’d mention her strange visitor, but, really, the team had enough to worry about at the moment. There was no real need to be concerned. If they listen to every psychic and harbinger that came to them they’d have no time to do any actually saving. She wasn’t Cordy.
Whoever she was, she wasn’t quite right, so her warnings were bound to be a little off as well. She’d been cryptic with a capital ‘C’. Probably involved in some diabolic plot to destroy the world, too, although that was nothing new. They’d deal with it as and when it happened.
If it happened.
Prompt: "Nobody likes the bringer of bad news."
Word Count: 965
Either way, this was different. For a start, she was being watched by a woman. Not that she had a problem with that, of course, but it was kind of weird when it was a woman she’d never actually met before.
“Can I help you?”
“Oh no. You don’t have time to help me. Can’t you hear it? It’s all slipping away. The hourglass is running out of sand.”
“It is?” Fred raised an eyebrow, studying the woman who had now emerged from the shadows at the edge of the lab to stand in front of her. She was pale, and a little spaced out, as if she had spent the best part of the day smoking things that could get even the most serious physics student into trouble.
“Well, we’re usually very good at the 'last minute rescue' sort of stuff,” Fred continued, “That’s why we’re here. You know, Wolfram and Hart, helping the helpless …”
She paused, and gave the woman a sheepish grin. She was all too aware of the real connotations of the name ‘Wolfram and Hart’. They all were.
“We changed the motto,” she added helpfully, “We’re still working on changing the reputation.”
“I know,” said the woman as she continued to move forward, and Fred had to look down at her feet to make sure she was actually walking. There was something strange about the way she moved. It didn’t look as if she was walking at all. She managed to glide with both feet on the ground. “The city is shaking with it.”
“Angel has always been good at causing controversy.”
“Not just Angel.” The woman picked up a test tube an examined it, although her eyes were fixed on Fred with an intensity that frightened her. Fred got the distinct impression that this strange woman was looking not just at her, but through her as well. She didn’t like it. “All of you. The jigsaw doesn’t work when one of the pieces is missing.”
“I don’t really know what you mean …” said Fred carefully, getting ready to shout for Wesley or Angel or whoever happened to be nearest. How had this woman managed to get it? She couldn’t be human. Not with eyes like that. Angel was usually very careful when it came to letting people into the building, but this woman – dressed in ragged black and red lace and now running crimson nails across the surface of Fred’s desk – didn’t exactly have a security pass pinned to her lapel.
“Can’t you hear it?” she asked softly, eyes flickering briefly to the clock on the wall before returning to Fred’s face. “Tick tick ticking away.”
“It’s a digital clock. It doesn’t tick.”
“But the universe does. The Circle is breaking.”
“What circle? I don’t …”
“You don’t know,” said the woman with a rather musical laugh. Her soft, silken voice contrasted drastically with her dark eyes. “You’ll never know. You’re too small. You’re too small, but she isn’t. She isn’t.”
Fred drew herself up to her full height – which, admittedly, wasn’t very much – and put her hands on her hips.
“I think you should leave.”
“She’s going to walk again. She’s getting ready. I can hear her stirring.”
The woman threw up her hands suddenly, clutching at her head. Fred had to resist the urge to start forward. There was no way to tell if her pain was genuine or not, no matter how acute it seemed to be.
“Dust,” she whimpered, “Nothing but dust.”
“Are you ok?” Fred exclaimed, horrified.
“It won’t work. They need all the pieces. They need all the pieces or …”
“Fred?”
That was Wesley’s voice and therefore one Fred responded to instinctively. She turned her head, and, when she turned back, the woman was gone. Not merely running away, but actually gone. The shadows had swallowed her up. Or she’d jumped out of the nearest open window, but that wasn’t quite as dramatic.
Definitely not human, then.
“Fred?” Wesley appeared in the doorway of the lab, holding a folder neatly under one arm. “I’ve finished the translation of the Elder Futhark inscriptions, and I thought you might like to … are you alright?”
“What? Oh, I’m fine.” I think. “Why don’t you bring the runes, I’ll grab some tacos and we can go through them together?”
“That sounds like an excellent idea.”
“They don’t mention anything about circles, do they?”
“Circles? No, I’m afraid not. Although the symbol representing the ancient deity Ingwaz is moderately cyclic. Is that significant?”
“That depends. What does Ingwaz do, exactly?”
“He was a relatively peaceful god, actually. His main purpose was to bestow peace and pleasure on mortals.”
“Then I think we’re set,” said Fred, leading the way out of the lab.
If something cropped up, she’d mention her strange visitor, but, really, the team had enough to worry about at the moment. There was no real need to be concerned. If they listen to every psychic and harbinger that came to them they’d have no time to do any actually saving. She wasn’t Cordy.
Whoever she was, she wasn’t quite right, so her warnings were bound to be a little off as well. She’d been cryptic with a capital ‘C’. Probably involved in some diabolic plot to destroy the world, too, although that was nothing new. They’d deal with it as and when it happened.
If it happened.
Prompt: "Nobody likes the bringer of bad news."
Word Count: 965
