sylph_fics

As apparently I never linked to the last two.

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter nine

Epilogue

Take Someone Out

Slade looked at the prompt for the week with a skeptical glance and shook his head, far too amused. That was one of the politer euphemisms for some of the work he'd done over half a century, and the idea of putting any of that on 'paper' – pixels, really, but what was the difference? -- struck him rather badly even while it did amuse him. He left the records of his jobs – and acidic commentary on them at times -- to Wintergreen, newspapers when the job was meant to be publicized, and word of mouth when it wasn't. Of the three, the only one he'd recommend trusting for information was Wintergreen's hand.

Then again, there was another way to look at that prompt. Logan's show was still running, and he was back in New York again. He checked the time just to make sure they'd have enough, and went to go and see about convincing his wife to go out on Broadway for the night.

Oh, funny.

You know, when I pointed out the theme, I didn't expect it to head here -- I probably should have, given various other topics over the time I've been using this thing...

Redemption.

Well, that pretty well entirely depends on who you ask, doesn't it? As most things do.

There are certainly more than a few heroes who've gotten their hands just as filthy as they consider mine and then gone right back to their bright, shining statures in the eyes of the public and their community, so obviously they would say yes -- but then again, Lord help anyone that walked my side of the line, for whatever reason, that wanted to try and start over, as far as the heroes are generally concerned. Yes, I did hear what happened with Dent, poor bastard. And a few others.

--Oh, hell no, I'm not talking about me. I'm not particularly interested in the idea. I've got a job I'm among the best in the world at, that needs doing.

I'm just somewhat more experienced, than I was at forty -- that my methods and jobs have changed with the times reflects more what I don't want to deal with than any attempt at that.

And, well, the fact that my wife would murder me a few times if I was stupid enough to get myself locked away from her. Let alone what my old friend would do to me. Then, too, there are Joe and Rose to consider. They've had quite enough to deal with, over the recent years.

You ask if redemption is possible... I ask who thinks they need it?

Word Count: 275

'Hourglass'.

I know not why the image whispered from Other Memory, but a moment's thought gave the context. An ancient Earth device for measuring time, made in many sizes... and functioning on something simple as the gravitational pull upon the sands held within finely spun glass. Which is only sand itself, though heated and fused into perfect clarity.

How appropriate.

I would have one made for Leto -- I think it would suit his whim -- if not for that no glass in the worlds could be large enough to count the hours and years he will be without me.

image

You're asking the mercenary that?

What, do you just want the messy details?

Sorry, I don't break my clients' security. That's the kind of thing that's bad for business. Read any of the publicly available files on me, you ought to get the picture of the kind of work I do. There are ways the better question might be what haven't I done, when I needed the cash badly enough. I'm not going to answer that one any more than I am this, though.

Though I'm rarely flat broke, I do have times my ready cash is far too low. If I'm hurting badly enough, I take quick jobs – fairly low payout, but enough to get me by.

Haven't had to do one of those in a while, though.

Taking that nice long vacation when I wasn't spending a fortune on weapons, ammo, and transportation, and spending the time to do some work with the stock markets early on took care of that for a while.

Word count: 167

Fluently, enough to get by, or just enough to blackmail someone in? What the hell, I'll answer all of them.

Starting from when I learned them, since that's probably the simplest: English -- and British English, since they are different languages; some German -- enough to insult people in, if nothing else; 'alphabet soup' -- as I tend to call the various military jargons; enough Korean to get by, and enough Vietnamese to get directions, intimidate people, and barter. I know Swahili, Afrikaans, and Bantu well enough to hold a conversation in them, though I tend to keep those fairly under wraps -- so interesting what people will say when they think you don't understand them.

I also speak ASL. To, I assume, no-one's surprise.

Then there's Russian, which I speak fairly fluently, enough French to know when I've pissed a woman off seriously -- and to talk my way out of it; some Japanese and some Khmer -- I'm told my accent still needs work in the second. My Spanish is good enough to get me by almost anywhere they speak it, and I'm picking up Mandarin and Han Chinese both pretty rapidly, these days. Not sure I'm ever going to get the hang of writing them, though.

What?

Picking up the local language is a good trick to have, in my business.

Word count: 224

I'm about to go start a job.

So at the moment, the answer is polypro socks and skivvies, eighteen pounds of blue promethium-kevlar lined chainmail, twelve pounds of next-generation custom-shaped orange body armor, two pounds of studded collar, my gloves and boots, and the ballistics-cloth mask and briefs that finish the base of my gear. I've been kicking around the idea of a re-design, but the last one ended badly.

Then there's the thirteen pounds of assorted survival and combat gear in the pouches of my web belt, a good fifteen pounds of ammo in the bandolier and other places, upwards of fifty pounds in the MPK, the .38 Special I haven't given my wife back, the MG4, and the M24 SWS, assorted blades, and my sword... and the six pounds of my energy staff. Haven't carried the thing in a dog's age, but something told me to pack it along.

Now... I have work to do.

Word count: 157

Right, here we go, meme results. Hope everyone enjoys theirs!

Riddick: rain (for merfilly)

( rain )

Brian/Rome/Dom: teamwork (for katarik)

( teamwork... guy style )

The Lone Gunmen: revelations (for ariestess)

( translation errors )

Brian/Dom: smile (for electrumqueen)

( rescue )

Nita and the Lone Power: lyric prompt (for rynia)

( neverending struggle )

Sarah/Kyle: Always be with you (for nan)

( I crossed time for you )

Prompt: Letty (for darkdanc3r)

( homecoming )

Riddick: anything, m/m slash? (for dreamweaver)

( southern comfort, maybe... )

"That's why I write, because life never works except in retrospect. You can't control life, at least you can control your version." Chuck Palahniuk (Stranger Than Fiction: True Stories)

I normally leave quotes and debates on that kind of topic to my old friend -- he's the one that seems to think it would be a good idea to write up my life as some novel. Why, I have absolutely no idea, but making all of his notes and drafts have kept him entertained all this time so it's worth it. I do wonder how much of it he's going to have to scrap, to have anyone believe it or to keep me from levels of embarrassment I don't really want to ever see again.

But... I don't think I agree all that much with the quote. Maybe if I wrote fiction I'd have a different opinion.

--yes, I know you're all laughing at the idea. So am I.

From where I stand, though, life makes even less sense in retrospect than it did the first time through. At least while it's hitting the fan you're not dealing with other people's second-guessing what you do.

At least as far as I've seen, or experienced.

Politics, n. Strife of interests masquerading as a contest of principles. -Ambrose Bierce

I believe that my brother has said almost all that needs to be said on this. It gives me chills to hear what he will become, what he will do after I am gone... He must have someone at his side, someone that can remind him that he is Atriedes over all. I will see that he has that someone, in one fashion or another.

Though the quote is quite amusing.

I wonder, why did it not merit inclusion in the O.C. Bible, as much truth as it holds? It certainly would find few detractors among the powerful of my time. Indeed, I think few among any of the factions of the broken triad of power that for so long waged perpetual war for their own interests -- CHOAM, the Spacing Guild, all the Great Houses, even the Bene Gesserit -- would deny it.

Words: 144