![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
ROARR! Nanothing.
The beginning is kind of infodumpy and man but I'm awkward with introducing characters. DX It might also need more padding. But, I kinda like it.
8980 / 50000 words. 18% done!
The bus was almost empty for the first couple of stops, as the road curled along the slopes; he sat by the window and noted down the relief of the area -- where the slope turned to a cliff, where the leafy trees became pines and the forest opened onto a stream or a meadow. It wasn't a gorgeous postcard-worthy area -- flowers were rare, and trees common -- but restful in an understated way. He liked it.
The bus quickly filled as they approached the valley and the city nestled there; grumpy secretaries stared at nothing, still half-awake, while children with school bags already chattered at each other. It was noisy, the high-pitched voices grating at his ears.
Tyr tried not to retreat to his corner too obviously. What bothered him the most wasn't the noise itself, it was the confusion.
The word 'Supes' jumped at him from the brouhaha and his gaze sharpened, scanning the crowd. Too many voices -- ah, there, a second time.
Two boys -- twelve? thirteen? -- jeering at a third. "Don't lie, you're a Supes," and other words, worse ones. The kid wasn't. Just a little feminine of face and unfortunately small for his age.
Just teasing then. Not nice teasing, but ... hah. For a second he'd almost imagined he would find one of them here, in this country, so far behind the lines.
He'd gone far behind the lines, too, in the other direction. He wondered what the Supes -- the Gwelwi, if one wanted to use the proper name -- called people like him back home.
Well... people like these children. He was reasonably sure people like him -- artificial bastard result of hidden subspecies -- weren't common knowledge back there. They sure weren't common knowledge here in America either, whether the natural version, or the artificial one. He wasn't too surprised about the secrecy; Homo sapiens tended to have a bad track record with cousin species, and the military wasn't going to publicize its experiments.
Another kid was talking about his soldier dad who'd just come back home from the war and who was amazing and could kick anyone's ass and he was going to teach him sleeper holds, and other moves Tyr had never heard of. They were probably made up. The rest of the crowd might as well have been speaking in tongues; undead paladin this and rezzed her that, their goalie sucks, her songs are so fresh.
He suspected that even before the war he couldn't have wrapped his mind around the purpose of such conversations, so much chatter and so little meaningful exchange of information.
It was another half-hour before he could escape onto the streets, and from there to the city's military command center. The troopers guarding the door gave him a strange look as they scanned his ID and let him in, but he couldn't have helped being relieved if he'd tried.
Colonel Reynolds was busy with paperwork as the secretary showed Tyr in, but the man didn't seem bothered by the interruption. His graying head lifted slightly to him, though the pale, squinty eyes stayed fixed on his report.
"Sir."
"At ease," he said eventually, sending Tyr a quick, wry smirk. He finished reading and put the sheet of paper aside. "So. How is the house?"
"A wreck, sir."
The Colonel let out a startled laugh at his matter of fact tone. "I see. Keeping you busy, then?"
"Yes." He paused; Reynolds was still watching him, head tilted, pale blue eyes intently fixed on him. It seemed like he was actually interested in some casual talk. Tyr hadn't indulged before, but Reynolds was one of the rare superior officers he'd had who didn't watch him with wary reserve, or even fear or loathing. "I might need to hire contractors soon," he admitted. "It's going to reach the end of my skills before long."
"I'm sure we can find you a list of cheap contractors somewhere," Reynolds replied with a chuckle. "Well. I was asked to ask you again -- are you sure you wish to settle down here? Personally I think the answer is obvious," he added with a touch of weary cynicism, "but hope springs eternal."
Tyr let out a small sigh. They'd asked that so many times already. "Yes, sir. I'm staying."
"With the military as well?"
"Yes." If possible. But if they wanted him gone they would have to fire him, because he wasn't quitting. It wasn't like he knew any other trade to make a living with.
"Good, that's one question I can cross off my list. Mind, you're still giving my replacement a headache."
Blink. "You're not staying here, sir?"
"No, no, they're downsizing this base now that Annaburg is being rebuilt. Part of the problem with you, too. You've got seniority, but no actual experience in normal units." Reynolds let out a long sigh, and leaned back in his seat to better scrutinize Tyr's face. "I might have a solution to that, though. How do you feel about getting transferred to the city police?"
...Oh.
Every time the war died down from open warfare into uneasy truce, there were talks of separating the police and the army. They didn't fulfill the same purposes, it would be more logical to blahblahblah -- in Tyr's opinion what made no sense was the insistence that a decentralized, fragmented chain of command was a smart thing in a world where Homo sapiens and Homo superior were constant threats to each other and surprise bombings of civilian areas a daily thing.
But this peace, now -- this one might hold. There were treaties. Peace talks. Gestures of good faith. Leaders from both sides actually trying.
Maybe they'd get the army and police free of each other after all, in a few years. In the meantime...
"I'll need some time to think about that."
"You've got your three months of downtime. By then I'll be gone, but the offer will still be open."
Tyr nodded slowly, more of an acknowledgement that he had heard than acceptance. "I've never done police job. Not even peacekeeping."
"It's not hard. You've done patrol before, right?"
"In Basic." A shake of Tyr's head. "And then I spent a year learning not to let people notice me. Patrolling might get -- difficult."
Even walking the streets was difficult, even though part of his training had included lessons in how to melt in a crowd. With a uniform on, making a target of himself -- he wasn't sure how he'd handle that. Sounded like it would get challenging.
Reynolds gave him a rueful look. "Don't go borrowing trouble. Patrol in public areas is only a small part of it. You'll also help solve crimes, protect civilians... I thought you might like it more than standing guard, or being sent back to spy on the Supes -- with the state your health is in, that one's not a good idea."
They would likely not take him back as a spy, anyway -- he'd been seen by a couple high-ranked people toward the end, and if they had survived then any cover story he might spin could be compromised. And he wasn't good at blending in for long periods of time, which was probably what they needed the most right now.
He wanted to let someone else take over. He was tired.
"So... Police work." He thought about it again -- the uniforms he mistrusted on principle, but he could deal with it, even if it became uncomfortable. The rest they could train him for.
"Frankly, at the moment, apart from playing bodyguard for Generals, that's all you're qualified and medically cleared for."
Reynolds let the silence fall. Tyr... considered.
He thought he might like having a beat to walk. An area that was his to protect. If he went with bodyguard duties-- if what Reynolds had told him about downsizing around here went as he assumed -- then pretty soon he would have to stay on the move for weeks or more. Generals rarely stayed put for months on end. They had subordinates to check on, public speeches to give, assemblies to attend.
"I'll consider it," he said. He didn't want to decide now. He had months -- it could wait until he was more settled.
"We could have you trained for other jobs entirely... Anything you're interested in?"
"Nothing I can think of right now."
"Well then, tell me when you figure it out." Reynolds rearranged his papers, a frown scrunching his thick eyebrows way down, then threw him a piercing look. "Sit down, son."
Tyr hesitated for a second, surprised. There were armchairs to both sides of the big desk, against the walls; he took one, pulling it in front of the Colonel. Sat, trying not to show how gingerly that went.
Reynolds' voice was quieter when he continued. "Between you and me... You should accept it. My replacement had his officers already picked out, and he doesn't like having to make a place for you..."
"He's scared of me," Tyr said, though he wasn't sure where he'd picked that up. Something in the Colonel's tone; it was the impression he got.
Reynolds winced faintly. "... He ... isn't sure you're controllable," he allowed, weighing every word before he let it out.
Well. That was familiar ground. Disappointing, but familiar. "Does he know what I am?"
"An experiment? Yes."
Which meant he didn't know any more details than that.
"Like quite a few others, he heard rumors of loss of control, increased hostility and all-out psychotic behavior, and that's not something you like to hear about when it's linked to superior speed and strength. But the real problem is that he happened to be present for two ... medication failures."
"He saw an outbreak?" Tyr frowned. If he had, then--
"Not an outbreak per se. Not a full one. Just the behavior alteration -- but that was enough." The Colonel looked weary now, his eyes still on Tyr's, highlighting the depth of the problem. "The root of the problem is that you and I both know it isn't psychotic behavior. It's even worse -- it's predatory. There's something about it that sits badly with the human psyche. And my replacement has a very healthy survival instinct as it is. He didn't like what he saw, Lieutenant Andersen. He didn't like it at a very deep, visceral level. He is not comfortable with your presence on base. And his subordinates are going to pick up on that very quickly, even if they don't know the cause."
... Ah.
Tyr wasn't prone to tension headaches; a fact for which he was grateful right now. He already had a metaphorical one developing, he didn't need an actual migraine to top it off. "Would he feel it his duty to keep the police informed?"
Reynolds chuckled dryly. "No, his esprit de corps doesn't spread that far out. He'll keep from interfering with you as long as you aren't under his command and he doesn't have to be reminded you exist. But..."
"But?"
"That brings us to the other reason I wanted a meeting, and the main reason I wanted it so early."
--huh. It hadn't even occurred to Tyr to wonder why he was being summoned so soon after his release. "Sir?"
"You're a reasonable individual, Lieutenant."
That sounded vaguely like a question, though it obviously wasn't meant to. Tyr nodded firmly, eyebrows furrowed.
"Some people suggested you and your friends didn't need to know this. I disagree. Not only is it disingenuous, but it's also stupid, and guarantees a backlash."
His friends? Tyr's frown deepened. Serrano's location was a matter of official records, but Wright and Keller's location wasn't. He hadn't yet mentioned their presence to anyone.
He disliked anything that took away his right to know on principle, though, especially when that seemed to impact him directly.
"Sir?"
"One moment." Colonel Reynolds pressed a button on his desk. "Gillian? Send her in."
Tyr turned sideway on his seat to look at the door. He didn't like Reynolds' expression one bit.
The door opened.
Tyr didn't know what he had expected exactly, but a five foot three Asian doll wasn't it. The woman was about his age, early twenties, sleek black hair pulled back in a low bun except from two locks slashed cut just under her cheekbones. She was even sort of pretty, with a tiny pursed mouth. Even despite the neat, pressed uniform and the straight-backed stance, she should have looked unthreatening.
She didn't. He had to check his impulse to jump out of his seat and whirl around to face her head on.
He waited a second, and then got up. Saluted. "Captain."
"Captain Xiang," announced Reynolds, as she saluted him in turn. "Lieutenant Andersen."
"Ma'am."
"Sit down," Reynolds said.
Tyr watched her from the corner of his eye as she did, and only took his seat after she was settled. Not even because of protocol. There was something there --
"--You were part of the program."
She watched him, eyes flat, measuring him up and not looking extremely impressed.
"I still am."
He stared back at her.
It was nowhere close to meeting Reynolds' eyes. When Reynolds looked in Tyr's eyes, it was to impress the seriousness of his words on him. He didn't mind that. When Xiang did it, a small part of him was left hoping that if he broke eye contact she'd ignore him again, and the rest knew that looking weak would mean dying.
It wasn't polite to ask about someone else's strain, but he had a feeling she didn't have the one he did.
"... Well. Andersen, I am sure you have to wonder what Captain Xiang is doing here."
Neither Tyr nor Xiang even glanced Reynolds' way.
"I do, sir," Tyr said, jaw barely loosening enough to let the words out.
Xiang's eyes narrowed a little more, and then she snorted. One of her eyebrows quirked up in a vaguely mocking way.
"I've been assigned to put you down when you go berserk."
"Captain Xiang," Reynolds snapped.
Tyr's eyes narrowed in turn. That... was a challenge, designed to get under his skin.
It could only work if he allowed it to, and he wasn't about to lose. He let out a little amused huff, wariness forced out of his stance. There. You don't scare me. She made him -- wary, though, but she didn't need to know that.
"It's alright, sir. As you said, I'm a reasonable person. I understand the necessity."
When, she'd said. Not If. But she didn't have access to any more information than he did.
"Thank you for the backup, Captain," he said.
Xiang frowned, like he'd startled her and not in a pleasing way. Good. "I'm not here to back you up. I am here to watch you. I am here to kill you." She speared him with a cold glare. "Do you believe I can?" She didn't add, 'because you should', but he heard it anyway.
"Yes," he agreed simply. She could kill him. He could kill her as well. It was all down to luck and surprise at this point.
He'd startled her a bit with his uncowed acceptance. "... That's good," she said slowly, wary now. "It goes for Lieutenants Serrano and Wright as well."
"I'll be sure to pass it on to them," Tyr mentioned placidly. Xiang's eyelid twitched.
"Keller isn't military anymore, but he had better not think that means he's safe," she snapped with a flicker of open hostility. "Tell him I'm watching him. He slips up, I'll be there."
Tyr couldn't help snorting quietly. Threats had the tendency to push Duane to do exactly what you didn't want him to do.
In this case he doubted even Duane was contrary enough to push himself into a psychotic break just to bug her, but that only meant he would find some other way.
"I will," he agreed, a faint smile on his lips. Xiang only frowned more deeply.
"Good." She got up briskly. "Colonel, permission to be dismissed."
"You may go," Reynolds agreed, though he wasn't giving an order so much as going through the motions, because it was likely she would have gone anyway.
Tyr kept watch on her until the door closed.
"... Well."
Reynolds was massaging his temple and looked very tired. Tyr chuckled quietly.
"It's all right, sir. She's not going to be your problem for very long."
The Colonel threw him a half-serious warning look, a reminder that 'she' was still Tyr's superior officer. It was obvious he agreed, though. "She seemed to... get to you."
"A bit, at first." He paused. "It's bigger, isn't it. Her strain."
"I am not at liberty to mention the details. But if that can help dissuade Keller -- yes. Bigger than his as well."
Duane wasn't going to care; she wasn't bigger now. And if she was still in the program, that meant she had no intention of going off the meds and changing that. They all knew you were stronger off the suppressants, and Duane's would be running out in a couple of months. Tyr frowned, making a note to ask him what the hell this was about.
"I'll talk to him, sir."
"I'll be in your debt," Reynolds retorted wryly. "Well. It was an interesting talk. Do keep me informed."
Recognizing the signal, Tyr left his armchair, saluted. "Thank you, sir. I will let you know as soon as I make a decision."
"You do that. Dismissed, Andersen."
Tyr saluted again, and left.
When he was crossing the courtyard toward the passage leading out, he caught a glimpse of Captain Xiang through a window, looking down at him, and had to resist the need to make a detour. He just didn't like her holding the high ground. But she turned away and disappeared before he had to pass underneath.
The bus was almost empty for the first couple of stops, as the road curled along the slopes; he sat by the window and noted down the relief of the area -- where the slope turned to a cliff, where the leafy trees became pines and the forest opened onto a stream or a meadow. It wasn't a gorgeous postcard-worthy area -- flowers were rare, and trees common -- but restful in an understated way. He liked it.
The bus quickly filled as they approached the valley and the city nestled there; grumpy secretaries stared at nothing, still half-awake, while children with school bags already chattered at each other. It was noisy, the high-pitched voices grating at his ears.
Tyr tried not to retreat to his corner too obviously. What bothered him the most wasn't the noise itself, it was the confusion.
The word 'Supes' jumped at him from the brouhaha and his gaze sharpened, scanning the crowd. Too many voices -- ah, there, a second time.
Two boys -- twelve? thirteen? -- jeering at a third. "Don't lie, you're a Supes," and other words, worse ones. The kid wasn't. Just a little feminine of face and unfortunately small for his age.
Just teasing then. Not nice teasing, but ... hah. For a second he'd almost imagined he would find one of them here, in this country, so far behind the lines.
He'd gone far behind the lines, too, in the other direction. He wondered what the Supes -- the Gwelwi, if one wanted to use the proper name -- called people like him back home.
Well... people like these children. He was reasonably sure people like him -- artificial bastard result of hidden subspecies -- weren't common knowledge back there. They sure weren't common knowledge here in America either, whether the natural version, or the artificial one. He wasn't too surprised about the secrecy; Homo sapiens tended to have a bad track record with cousin species, and the military wasn't going to publicize its experiments.
Another kid was talking about his soldier dad who'd just come back home from the war and who was amazing and could kick anyone's ass and he was going to teach him sleeper holds, and other moves Tyr had never heard of. They were probably made up. The rest of the crowd might as well have been speaking in tongues; undead paladin this and rezzed her that, their goalie sucks, her songs are so fresh.
He suspected that even before the war he couldn't have wrapped his mind around the purpose of such conversations, so much chatter and so little meaningful exchange of information.
It was another half-hour before he could escape onto the streets, and from there to the city's military command center. The troopers guarding the door gave him a strange look as they scanned his ID and let him in, but he couldn't have helped being relieved if he'd tried.
Colonel Reynolds was busy with paperwork as the secretary showed Tyr in, but the man didn't seem bothered by the interruption. His graying head lifted slightly to him, though the pale, squinty eyes stayed fixed on his report.
"Sir."
"At ease," he said eventually, sending Tyr a quick, wry smirk. He finished reading and put the sheet of paper aside. "So. How is the house?"
"A wreck, sir."
The Colonel let out a startled laugh at his matter of fact tone. "I see. Keeping you busy, then?"
"Yes." He paused; Reynolds was still watching him, head tilted, pale blue eyes intently fixed on him. It seemed like he was actually interested in some casual talk. Tyr hadn't indulged before, but Reynolds was one of the rare superior officers he'd had who didn't watch him with wary reserve, or even fear or loathing. "I might need to hire contractors soon," he admitted. "It's going to reach the end of my skills before long."
"I'm sure we can find you a list of cheap contractors somewhere," Reynolds replied with a chuckle. "Well. I was asked to ask you again -- are you sure you wish to settle down here? Personally I think the answer is obvious," he added with a touch of weary cynicism, "but hope springs eternal."
Tyr let out a small sigh. They'd asked that so many times already. "Yes, sir. I'm staying."
"With the military as well?"
"Yes." If possible. But if they wanted him gone they would have to fire him, because he wasn't quitting. It wasn't like he knew any other trade to make a living with.
"Good, that's one question I can cross off my list. Mind, you're still giving my replacement a headache."
Blink. "You're not staying here, sir?"
"No, no, they're downsizing this base now that Annaburg is being rebuilt. Part of the problem with you, too. You've got seniority, but no actual experience in normal units." Reynolds let out a long sigh, and leaned back in his seat to better scrutinize Tyr's face. "I might have a solution to that, though. How do you feel about getting transferred to the city police?"
...Oh.
Every time the war died down from open warfare into uneasy truce, there were talks of separating the police and the army. They didn't fulfill the same purposes, it would be more logical to blahblahblah -- in Tyr's opinion what made no sense was the insistence that a decentralized, fragmented chain of command was a smart thing in a world where Homo sapiens and Homo superior were constant threats to each other and surprise bombings of civilian areas a daily thing.
But this peace, now -- this one might hold. There were treaties. Peace talks. Gestures of good faith. Leaders from both sides actually trying.
Maybe they'd get the army and police free of each other after all, in a few years. In the meantime...
"I'll need some time to think about that."
"You've got your three months of downtime. By then I'll be gone, but the offer will still be open."
Tyr nodded slowly, more of an acknowledgement that he had heard than acceptance. "I've never done police job. Not even peacekeeping."
"It's not hard. You've done patrol before, right?"
"In Basic." A shake of Tyr's head. "And then I spent a year learning not to let people notice me. Patrolling might get -- difficult."
Even walking the streets was difficult, even though part of his training had included lessons in how to melt in a crowd. With a uniform on, making a target of himself -- he wasn't sure how he'd handle that. Sounded like it would get challenging.
Reynolds gave him a rueful look. "Don't go borrowing trouble. Patrol in public areas is only a small part of it. You'll also help solve crimes, protect civilians... I thought you might like it more than standing guard, or being sent back to spy on the Supes -- with the state your health is in, that one's not a good idea."
They would likely not take him back as a spy, anyway -- he'd been seen by a couple high-ranked people toward the end, and if they had survived then any cover story he might spin could be compromised. And he wasn't good at blending in for long periods of time, which was probably what they needed the most right now.
He wanted to let someone else take over. He was tired.
"So... Police work." He thought about it again -- the uniforms he mistrusted on principle, but he could deal with it, even if it became uncomfortable. The rest they could train him for.
"Frankly, at the moment, apart from playing bodyguard for Generals, that's all you're qualified and medically cleared for."
Reynolds let the silence fall. Tyr... considered.
He thought he might like having a beat to walk. An area that was his to protect. If he went with bodyguard duties-- if what Reynolds had told him about downsizing around here went as he assumed -- then pretty soon he would have to stay on the move for weeks or more. Generals rarely stayed put for months on end. They had subordinates to check on, public speeches to give, assemblies to attend.
"I'll consider it," he said. He didn't want to decide now. He had months -- it could wait until he was more settled.
"We could have you trained for other jobs entirely... Anything you're interested in?"
"Nothing I can think of right now."
"Well then, tell me when you figure it out." Reynolds rearranged his papers, a frown scrunching his thick eyebrows way down, then threw him a piercing look. "Sit down, son."
Tyr hesitated for a second, surprised. There were armchairs to both sides of the big desk, against the walls; he took one, pulling it in front of the Colonel. Sat, trying not to show how gingerly that went.
Reynolds' voice was quieter when he continued. "Between you and me... You should accept it. My replacement had his officers already picked out, and he doesn't like having to make a place for you..."
"He's scared of me," Tyr said, though he wasn't sure where he'd picked that up. Something in the Colonel's tone; it was the impression he got.
Reynolds winced faintly. "... He ... isn't sure you're controllable," he allowed, weighing every word before he let it out.
Well. That was familiar ground. Disappointing, but familiar. "Does he know what I am?"
"An experiment? Yes."
Which meant he didn't know any more details than that.
"Like quite a few others, he heard rumors of loss of control, increased hostility and all-out psychotic behavior, and that's not something you like to hear about when it's linked to superior speed and strength. But the real problem is that he happened to be present for two ... medication failures."
"He saw an outbreak?" Tyr frowned. If he had, then--
"Not an outbreak per se. Not a full one. Just the behavior alteration -- but that was enough." The Colonel looked weary now, his eyes still on Tyr's, highlighting the depth of the problem. "The root of the problem is that you and I both know it isn't psychotic behavior. It's even worse -- it's predatory. There's something about it that sits badly with the human psyche. And my replacement has a very healthy survival instinct as it is. He didn't like what he saw, Lieutenant Andersen. He didn't like it at a very deep, visceral level. He is not comfortable with your presence on base. And his subordinates are going to pick up on that very quickly, even if they don't know the cause."
... Ah.
Tyr wasn't prone to tension headaches; a fact for which he was grateful right now. He already had a metaphorical one developing, he didn't need an actual migraine to top it off. "Would he feel it his duty to keep the police informed?"
Reynolds chuckled dryly. "No, his esprit de corps doesn't spread that far out. He'll keep from interfering with you as long as you aren't under his command and he doesn't have to be reminded you exist. But..."
"But?"
"That brings us to the other reason I wanted a meeting, and the main reason I wanted it so early."
--huh. It hadn't even occurred to Tyr to wonder why he was being summoned so soon after his release. "Sir?"
"You're a reasonable individual, Lieutenant."
That sounded vaguely like a question, though it obviously wasn't meant to. Tyr nodded firmly, eyebrows furrowed.
"Some people suggested you and your friends didn't need to know this. I disagree. Not only is it disingenuous, but it's also stupid, and guarantees a backlash."
His friends? Tyr's frown deepened. Serrano's location was a matter of official records, but Wright and Keller's location wasn't. He hadn't yet mentioned their presence to anyone.
He disliked anything that took away his right to know on principle, though, especially when that seemed to impact him directly.
"Sir?"
"One moment." Colonel Reynolds pressed a button on his desk. "Gillian? Send her in."
Tyr turned sideway on his seat to look at the door. He didn't like Reynolds' expression one bit.
The door opened.
Tyr didn't know what he had expected exactly, but a five foot three Asian doll wasn't it. The woman was about his age, early twenties, sleek black hair pulled back in a low bun except from two locks slashed cut just under her cheekbones. She was even sort of pretty, with a tiny pursed mouth. Even despite the neat, pressed uniform and the straight-backed stance, she should have looked unthreatening.
She didn't. He had to check his impulse to jump out of his seat and whirl around to face her head on.
He waited a second, and then got up. Saluted. "Captain."
"Captain Xiang," announced Reynolds, as she saluted him in turn. "Lieutenant Andersen."
"Ma'am."
"Sit down," Reynolds said.
Tyr watched her from the corner of his eye as she did, and only took his seat after she was settled. Not even because of protocol. There was something there --
"--You were part of the program."
She watched him, eyes flat, measuring him up and not looking extremely impressed.
"I still am."
He stared back at her.
It was nowhere close to meeting Reynolds' eyes. When Reynolds looked in Tyr's eyes, it was to impress the seriousness of his words on him. He didn't mind that. When Xiang did it, a small part of him was left hoping that if he broke eye contact she'd ignore him again, and the rest knew that looking weak would mean dying.
It wasn't polite to ask about someone else's strain, but he had a feeling she didn't have the one he did.
"... Well. Andersen, I am sure you have to wonder what Captain Xiang is doing here."
Neither Tyr nor Xiang even glanced Reynolds' way.
"I do, sir," Tyr said, jaw barely loosening enough to let the words out.
Xiang's eyes narrowed a little more, and then she snorted. One of her eyebrows quirked up in a vaguely mocking way.
"I've been assigned to put you down when you go berserk."
"Captain Xiang," Reynolds snapped.
Tyr's eyes narrowed in turn. That... was a challenge, designed to get under his skin.
It could only work if he allowed it to, and he wasn't about to lose. He let out a little amused huff, wariness forced out of his stance. There. You don't scare me. She made him -- wary, though, but she didn't need to know that.
"It's alright, sir. As you said, I'm a reasonable person. I understand the necessity."
When, she'd said. Not If. But she didn't have access to any more information than he did.
"Thank you for the backup, Captain," he said.
Xiang frowned, like he'd startled her and not in a pleasing way. Good. "I'm not here to back you up. I am here to watch you. I am here to kill you." She speared him with a cold glare. "Do you believe I can?" She didn't add, 'because you should', but he heard it anyway.
"Yes," he agreed simply. She could kill him. He could kill her as well. It was all down to luck and surprise at this point.
He'd startled her a bit with his uncowed acceptance. "... That's good," she said slowly, wary now. "It goes for Lieutenants Serrano and Wright as well."
"I'll be sure to pass it on to them," Tyr mentioned placidly. Xiang's eyelid twitched.
"Keller isn't military anymore, but he had better not think that means he's safe," she snapped with a flicker of open hostility. "Tell him I'm watching him. He slips up, I'll be there."
Tyr couldn't help snorting quietly. Threats had the tendency to push Duane to do exactly what you didn't want him to do.
In this case he doubted even Duane was contrary enough to push himself into a psychotic break just to bug her, but that only meant he would find some other way.
"I will," he agreed, a faint smile on his lips. Xiang only frowned more deeply.
"Good." She got up briskly. "Colonel, permission to be dismissed."
"You may go," Reynolds agreed, though he wasn't giving an order so much as going through the motions, because it was likely she would have gone anyway.
Tyr kept watch on her until the door closed.
"... Well."
Reynolds was massaging his temple and looked very tired. Tyr chuckled quietly.
"It's all right, sir. She's not going to be your problem for very long."
The Colonel threw him a half-serious warning look, a reminder that 'she' was still Tyr's superior officer. It was obvious he agreed, though. "She seemed to... get to you."
"A bit, at first." He paused. "It's bigger, isn't it. Her strain."
"I am not at liberty to mention the details. But if that can help dissuade Keller -- yes. Bigger than his as well."
Duane wasn't going to care; she wasn't bigger now. And if she was still in the program, that meant she had no intention of going off the meds and changing that. They all knew you were stronger off the suppressants, and Duane's would be running out in a couple of months. Tyr frowned, making a note to ask him what the hell this was about.
"I'll talk to him, sir."
"I'll be in your debt," Reynolds retorted wryly. "Well. It was an interesting talk. Do keep me informed."
Recognizing the signal, Tyr left his armchair, saluted. "Thank you, sir. I will let you know as soon as I make a decision."
"You do that. Dismissed, Andersen."
Tyr saluted again, and left.
When he was crossing the courtyard toward the passage leading out, he caught a glimpse of Captain Xiang through a window, looking down at him, and had to resist the need to make a detour. He just didn't like her holding the high ground. But she turned away and disappeared before he had to pass underneath.
no subject
(Anonymous) 2009-11-08 03:59 pm (UTC)(link)'But Anon, you just said his hair was brown three paragraphs ago!' "So What?"
'But Anon, you just used six adjective and two hyphens to describe a look!' "So What?"
It's NaNoWriMo, and being terrible is a First Draft's sovereign right. :)
no subject
no subject
this needs to be iconified.
no subject
no subject
(Note: usually military wouldn't mention first names, not when everyone in the room knows who they're talking about: 'Lieutenants Carmen Serrano and Cameron Wright' -- not to mention the "he goes by Gabriel now" doesn't tell me which of those two very-much-alike names have been replaced. Just FWIW.)
no subject
XD; Aw, noted. I'll fix later though. No rewriting allowed. (And well, carmen isn't a guy's name XD)
no subject
You catch on fast, grasshopper! XD
Carmen is actually a gender-neutral name in English. Maybe use Carmina or Claire if you want to make it really obvious it's feminine while keeping the oddity of two characters with almost identical names?
no subject
no subject
Actually, you're right: both Cameron and Carmen are considered gender-neutral in English, these days. Cameron isn't as common a girl's name, but Diaz' definitely made it popular enough that I wouldn't be surprised if the next generation uses that name a lot more than previously. These things rise and fall in popularity, after all.
no subject
no subject
*cough*
no subject
... english is fucking weird. (Alas, can't use Claire, i'm a Claire. XD That'd be kinda weird. But it is indeed a most awesome name.)
no subject
...I would personally shy away from multiple names with similar-sounding starters, although if you were aiming for a name like Tracey that gets the "that's a girl's name!" then Carmen would definitely be in that category as well. But otherwise, Cameron and Carmen, wow, if I'm picking, I'd take Tyr and Tracey because at least they have more than just one letter's difference between their names. Though every time I see Duane, I keep wanting to snark, "so, basically, this version isn't too bright, is he." Talks slow, thinks slow (and I say that as someone who gets that reaction myself and hates it, so, uhm, ehehehe, WHOOPS).
Regardless, that-all just cracks me up, these associations we have with names, like what's a girl's name, or a boy's name, or what names mean in a popular sense. Back when I was in junior high, I came across a book that wasn't name-meanings but name-associations. The authors had made a list of all sorts of names -- and variants, like Mike, Mikey, Michael, Micheal -- and asked people to give a one or two word definition of what they thought of people who actually have that name. IIRC, names like Mikey and Joey (diminutives) were associated with "fun to be around" and girl's name diminutives like Katie and Crissie got "sweet and kind" while non -ie girls' name diminutives (like Cathy or Janey) got "friendly and outgoing" or some such, while full names -- Katherine, Christopher -- were associated with formality, or education, or distance of some sort. Single one-syllable diminutives -- Mike, Chris, Rob, Liz -- were seen as more adult than juvenile, and thus more mature, more likely to be successful with job or attractiveness.
Really very fascinating, especially when I looked up names like Veronica (didn't outright say 'slut' but definitely was something like 'very popular with boys' unh-hunh) and Valerie (most often associated with cheerleaders). The more popular/common the name, the more likely the kid's seen as popular and confident as well, which for that time would've been Jenny, Mike, Chris, and Patty, I think.
Well, anyway, never have found the book again, but it was pretty fascinating snapshot of the variations in how we suss up folks based on not just their name but the version they use. Probably terribly out of date by now, but man, I'd still love to find a copy... but I can't even remember the title. Sheesh!
no subject
I can take carmen or leave it, problem is she's spanish (well, south-american) and it's almost impossible to find a spanish woman's name that does not end in -a. I just can't see her with an -a name, it doesn't fit. But yeah, carmen and cameron, what the hell was i thinking? I didn't even notice at the time. ~__~
no subject
Hrm, Latino feminine name that doesn't end in a... first search came up with Dyan, Quin (or Quinn), Roisin. All of those are listed as 'latin' names, though not sure what that means.
Searching girls' names in Italian, Spanish, Brazilian, Catalan, Aztec and Native American (what the hell, why not) & here's a bit of what I got: Brise, Fia, Flor, Gian, Luz, Merce, Neve, Nieve, Paz, Sal, Jazmin, Lupe, Reyes, Rio, Séverine... There's a lot more (though plenty with -a ending, and no way to search for a NOT-ending, sadly) -- use the advanced search feature at http://babynamesworld.parentsconnect.com.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
I like the sound of Lupe, but naming the werewolf woman "wolf" is kind of a bit too blatant. XD I think I'll go with Neve or Nieve. *ponderponder*
no subject
Although if she's worked as Black Ops for the US govt in your distopia, then her family may have dropped the double-name as part of becoming acculturated in the US, since it's not that common here. Or she dropped it herself, to use just her father's name or her mother's name, so she'd stand out less as an immigrant. (FYI, not sure if you're aware, but for a long time enlisting in the US military was a step on the path of gaining citizenship. So she could've grown up elsewhere and then joined as a way to become a citizen.)
Also, right now I am watching a french film and it's like wacky Parisian accents all over the place. Way way way (oui oui oui), that bizarre german-to-my-ears kinda lazy slurring that somehow manages to also be top speed. Is there like an international humanity rule that people in cities can't move their mouths but have to also speak three times as fast as anyone else?
*goes back to cursing out the really pathetic subtitles*
(And I mean pathetic. The bad guy says, "the good guy has a sister... blah blah blah blah blah blah blah..." I count like a good sixteen, maybe twenty blah's in there, and what I think was info about knowing where she works and when. Subtitles? "The guy has a sister..." and then nothing for several seconds during blah blah blah, and then finally, "we can pick her up". GYAHHHH. I'm going to be back at comprehension-speed on french by the end of this film and NOT BY CHOICE but because I'm betting it'll be the ONLY WAY TO KNOW WHAT'S REALLY GOING ON. *shoots self*)
no subject
Haha, so true. I've known a Dulce, a Marisol, a Mercedes, and a Caridad if any of those names appeal to you. What about Josephine? In Spanish it would be Josefina but I know a lot of people tend to Anglicize their names when they move to America. Oooh, what about Soledad? I just looked it up and it means "solitude", which, you know, is pretty apt for a character based on Trowa. XD
no subject
I seem to recall that it's also possible to do Josefine, and still be considered feminine -- although I don't know if that's a regional thing (like the difference between Puerto Rican names vs Mexican vs Brazilian, that kind of thing).
no subject
Soledad was one of my choices, but soledad serrano just sounds weird to me. though maybe with a second family name in the middle...
no subject
FWIW, I really liked the name Carmen. Is it so bad that it's similar to Cameron? Everyone calls him Gabe anyway. XD Also, have you figured out Serrano's back story yet? Was she born in South America and then emigrated to America, or has her family been here for a few generations? I only ask b/c you don't necessarily have to limit yourself to using Spanish names. I've had classmates who are Spanish and whose family have lived in America for a while, so they have more Anglicized names like April, Iris, Andrew, Joanna, Marilyn, Erica, etc.
no subject
no subject
no subject
So at dinner tonight, I was telling CP about your story, and happened to mention the discussion about names, and Carmen, and then the ill-fated Duane.
CP: Middle name Wayne means he's a serial killer.
Me: No, first name Duane.
CP: Not D. Wayne?
Me: No. Duane.
CP: Oh, so the guy's a redneck, instead.
Me: *snort*
I think I should've held off on letting him have that whiskey while he made dinner, because he's having too much fun with it. Just thought I'd pass this along, because otherwise it's just me and my soda-covered keyboard.
Me: Well, apparently duane is a very sexy name in French.
CP: That's 'cause they're not saying it right. It's DUU-waaayn. You say it like an American says it, and that'll take the sexy RIGHT out of it.
(Sometimes I swear CP has some major Duo-istic traits himself.)
no subject
HAH it has more words than the previous one! I'm counting it as a win.
no subject
Tyr needs a T-shirt. Swirly fancy Gothic-black lettering on dark gray. The letters needed: "FML" (new line) "orz". Everybody will be asking him what metal band it's from.
....heh. maybe I should make that T-shirt anyhow.
no subject
*loves torturing Tyr* he suffers so pretty! >D
no subject
And your update rate. *pets Nano*
no subject
no subject
"But you said at our first meeting that they only drink human blood -- oh. Um. I guess you didn't actually say that. Well, you were supposed to say it. There. Now you've said it."
no subject
no subject
no subject
MOAR!
I have been on a huge werewolfy kick lately... and this isn't helping! or is helping. I don't know. I just know that this is awesome and I can't wait to see more. :D
Maybe I'll even draw fanart if it'll tempt more words out of you :D
*tempt-tempt*
oh, and I am a dork: "undead paladin this and rezzed her that"
as my brain goes asdfjk;; -- undead can't be paladins! ... though they should because it'd be awesome. XD
BTW, the infodumping wasn't too bad. :) I think if/when you come back to edit later, you'll fluff it out a bit more smoothly. :D In any event: it's important world information... and doing in the way you do it is WAY better then adding footnotes. I HATE stories where the author's idea of the best way to pass on info is to go (1) and then spent HALF THE FUCKING PAGE in a foot note explaining why the color red is somehow offensive to the people of Tymeria.
oh yeah: MOAR!!!!
no subject
...i can just see the arguements now between Duane and girl!Wufei about 'bigger' vs 'its how you use it' XD phrased actually like that too.
no subject
no subject
Also, in relation to a previous post of yours I don't feel like searching for, when you were talking about 'how do werewolf thingies work' or some such, I was thinking about it the other day and was invaded by a thought. 'Ingrown hairs.' If they have to shave after the changes, or cut, or it grows back too fast, that would be hilarious. Just wanted to share that tidbit x3