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discoveredinalj2007-02-26 12:52 pm
asymphototropic.livejournal.com) wrote in discoveredinalj2007-02-26 12:52 pm
Entry tags:
Discovered in Temptation
My assigned sin is hubris. It'll appear. But first you have to find your favorite glossy of Bodie and Doyle and stare into their eyes awhile before you see it. [Just joshing folks, but you gotta admit, that was a fun occupation, eh?]
Contrary Virtue
Part One.
"Watch out for that one. He'll knife you, soon as look at you. Doesn't give a double damn which side you're on."
Bodie only wished to hell he knew which side he himself was on. It seemed his chief problem in life just now. He shrugged and smirked at the admonition, his cockiness intentionally apparent. Then he examined the object of the cautionary phrase.
It was a young man of very slight build. Bodie approved. A lean habitus was good in this calling. Swiftness would keep the man alive when scrambling through the brush, dodging land mines. Rushing for cover, he represented a smaller target.
But on the other hand, and much more to the point, he was too fair complected to stay healthy here. On the plateaus, destruction by the sun would be fiercely at work on him. And in the damp ravines, the flies, mosquitoes, and parasites would devour him. Those small monstrosities adored the smell and taste of tender pale flesh. "Go back where you came from," Bodie silently concluded.
"Hullo. I'm Bodie. And you are?"
"He doesn't talk," Waneright intervened. "Dumb as doorwood. But not deaf. Hears every word you're saying in any palaver you'd care to pick."
Queszado pitched in with his tuppence worth. They were all bored at their post, and they would talk now until parched tongues forced their mouths closed. "Our revered generalissimo," this said with sneering insolence, "calls him Royal Derby."
"Because of his porcelain face. Got a bit of a crack in it, though." This was from Malderk.
Malicious slime. Bodie despised him already.
"RD for short nicks," Waneright concluded, shifting onto his belly and swigging from his canteen.
Bodie studied RD, hoping for a return of his attention. There was none.
The slender man sat cross legged, back against the fissured trunk of an ancient yellowwood tree. His faded fatigues covered him completely, even to the fingerless gloves he wore. Sun bleached chestnut curls frothed from under a sweat stained slouch hat. His grubby fingernails probed the detritus, picking out desiccated grey seed pods which he popped into his mouth to munch.
"Filthy little bugger," Malderk offered. "Come too close and catch something nasty from him."
RD ignored the insult. In fact, he appeared quite oblivious to them all. But when a turaco called from a lofty branch, screaming at the interlopers to "go away," the soldier shielded his eyes, catching a glimpse.
Bodie searched the mass of shiny evergreen leaves until he found the bird on high. Viewed its glorious plumage, emerald breast, flaming vermilion crest raised in belligerence, long tail floating on a gossamer breeze. He smiled in appreciation of its punchinello motley, then returned his gaze to the man.
RD's full lips pressed together as if stifling a laugh at the clarity of the avian words. A moment only, and the expression sank again into oblivion. He shifted to pry a bit of peeling bark from the tree, scraped some sap from the underside, stuck out his pink tongue to curl about the sticky wad, and commenced chewing on it.
Bodie selected a tube of zinc oxide from his camp pack, spread a thin layer to vanish upon his nose and cheeks. Then he offered a dollop on his outstretched hand. "RD. Tend to your hooter? Not quite medium rare, but getting there."
It seemed to him the other's perceptions rose slowly from dark depths. Finally a semblance of cognizance was there.
The scarcest contact it was, a mere touch and then gone.
Malderk's snort marred the moment. "Scummy dinlo. Just watch him now."
RD carefully mixed a sprinkling of dark soil into the paste on his palm before smearing the murky stuff on his skin.
"Disgusting."
"Yeah." Bodie sliced into Malderk with a wicked glare, silently flinging it back at him. "No need for camo on your mug, is there? No question of porcelain on your dial, cracked or otherwise." Then he turned away in disparaging dismissal.
The squawk of the radio interrupted the natural progression of their conflict.
"Hello, hello, fun time. Shufti to the north and south, then return to base. Divvy up, Queszado and Malderk with me. RD with Bodie. Now then," and Waneright took off, leaving no opportunity for dispute.
When Bodie arrived, weary and footsore back at base, it didn't surprise him to find RD there ahead of him. The sleek soldier had vanished during their reconnaissance, and Bodie had felt unmotivated to track him.
Much later, the others reappeared in camp, minus Malderk.
Waneright studied Bodie with open distrust. "Found some blood, signs of a struggle. He just disappeared. No noise and no body."
"Supernatural," Queszado grinned ghoulishly while crossing himself.
It appeared Malderk hadn't been too popular with his comrades at arms. Wasn't much of a loss then.
Turning away from them, Bodie approached RD.
He was staring into the sunset. No other soul dwelt on his plane of existence.
Title: Contrary Virtue
Author: asymphototropic [attracted toward the light but never quite arrives]
Slash or Gen: slash
Archive at ProsLib/Circuit: yes
Disclaimer: No infringement intended, the author does not own "The Professionals"
Contrary Virtue
Part One.
"Watch out for that one. He'll knife you, soon as look at you. Doesn't give a double damn which side you're on."
Bodie only wished to hell he knew which side he himself was on. It seemed his chief problem in life just now. He shrugged and smirked at the admonition, his cockiness intentionally apparent. Then he examined the object of the cautionary phrase.
It was a young man of very slight build. Bodie approved. A lean habitus was good in this calling. Swiftness would keep the man alive when scrambling through the brush, dodging land mines. Rushing for cover, he represented a smaller target.
But on the other hand, and much more to the point, he was too fair complected to stay healthy here. On the plateaus, destruction by the sun would be fiercely at work on him. And in the damp ravines, the flies, mosquitoes, and parasites would devour him. Those small monstrosities adored the smell and taste of tender pale flesh. "Go back where you came from," Bodie silently concluded.
"Hullo. I'm Bodie. And you are?"
"He doesn't talk," Waneright intervened. "Dumb as doorwood. But not deaf. Hears every word you're saying in any palaver you'd care to pick."
Queszado pitched in with his tuppence worth. They were all bored at their post, and they would talk now until parched tongues forced their mouths closed. "Our revered generalissimo," this said with sneering insolence, "calls him Royal Derby."
"Because of his porcelain face. Got a bit of a crack in it, though." This was from Malderk.
Malicious slime. Bodie despised him already.
"RD for short nicks," Waneright concluded, shifting onto his belly and swigging from his canteen.
Bodie studied RD, hoping for a return of his attention. There was none.
The slender man sat cross legged, back against the fissured trunk of an ancient yellowwood tree. His faded fatigues covered him completely, even to the fingerless gloves he wore. Sun bleached chestnut curls frothed from under a sweat stained slouch hat. His grubby fingernails probed the detritus, picking out desiccated grey seed pods which he popped into his mouth to munch.
"Filthy little bugger," Malderk offered. "Come too close and catch something nasty from him."
RD ignored the insult. In fact, he appeared quite oblivious to them all. But when a turaco called from a lofty branch, screaming at the interlopers to "go away," the soldier shielded his eyes, catching a glimpse.
Bodie searched the mass of shiny evergreen leaves until he found the bird on high. Viewed its glorious plumage, emerald breast, flaming vermilion crest raised in belligerence, long tail floating on a gossamer breeze. He smiled in appreciation of its punchinello motley, then returned his gaze to the man.
RD's full lips pressed together as if stifling a laugh at the clarity of the avian words. A moment only, and the expression sank again into oblivion. He shifted to pry a bit of peeling bark from the tree, scraped some sap from the underside, stuck out his pink tongue to curl about the sticky wad, and commenced chewing on it.
Bodie selected a tube of zinc oxide from his camp pack, spread a thin layer to vanish upon his nose and cheeks. Then he offered a dollop on his outstretched hand. "RD. Tend to your hooter? Not quite medium rare, but getting there."
It seemed to him the other's perceptions rose slowly from dark depths. Finally a semblance of cognizance was there.
The scarcest contact it was, a mere touch and then gone.
Malderk's snort marred the moment. "Scummy dinlo. Just watch him now."
RD carefully mixed a sprinkling of dark soil into the paste on his palm before smearing the murky stuff on his skin.
"Disgusting."
"Yeah." Bodie sliced into Malderk with a wicked glare, silently flinging it back at him. "No need for camo on your mug, is there? No question of porcelain on your dial, cracked or otherwise." Then he turned away in disparaging dismissal.
The squawk of the radio interrupted the natural progression of their conflict.
"Hello, hello, fun time. Shufti to the north and south, then return to base. Divvy up, Queszado and Malderk with me. RD with Bodie. Now then," and Waneright took off, leaving no opportunity for dispute.
When Bodie arrived, weary and footsore back at base, it didn't surprise him to find RD there ahead of him. The sleek soldier had vanished during their reconnaissance, and Bodie had felt unmotivated to track him.
Much later, the others reappeared in camp, minus Malderk.
Waneright studied Bodie with open distrust. "Found some blood, signs of a struggle. He just disappeared. No noise and no body."
"Supernatural," Queszado grinned ghoulishly while crossing himself.
It appeared Malderk hadn't been too popular with his comrades at arms. Wasn't much of a loss then.
Turning away from them, Bodie approached RD.
He was staring into the sunset. No other soul dwelt on his plane of existence.
Title: Contrary Virtue
Author: asymphototropic [attracted toward the light but never quite arrives]
Slash or Gen: slash
Archive at ProsLib/Circuit: yes
Disclaimer: No infringement intended, the author does not own "The Professionals"