word 115 challenge response
Jul. 22nd, 2005 06:10 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chanter1944Here we go again!
Spawned off this quote, and the challenge which was sentimental:
“Indulge yourself in something strong if you used to be a hero, but woke up to yourself before it was too late.”--THE VILLAINOUS DRINKING GAME By Diamonde and Dyce
Title: Journey Home
Author: Chanter
Fandom: Carmen San Diego (I confess I’m working off the PBS television series here, with the image of the original Carmen. Call it circa 1990 or so. I’m really going back to my roots with this one!)
Rating: G I think?
Summary: Carmen’s mind wanders as she’s breaking into a very familiar ACME headquarters. Contains lots of character exploration and history.
258 words
It was her color.
Just like that bridge out there *wasn’t* her color.
She could indulge herself, splurge on a good day, new fasteners for the cloak or a single scarlet feather to accent the ever-present hat. She lived in crimson... but no blood. She could do without the shedding of blood.
She was a thief, after all, not a murderess.
She was a thief. And the window before her had the slightest of defects in it’s construction, the most minute of faults in it’s lock. Even from the outside she could work it, play hand over fingernail poetess, wax elegant as a single hairpin worked it’s magic.
Click.
She was in.
No alarms, not on this level, not within this particular suite of rooms--not where lowly records were concerned. And she... she was returning to her roots with this one. Stop kidding yourself Carmen, some especially icy inner voice chided as designer flats dyed a distinctive shade of ruby made their way from one edge of the antique wood floor to the other, on a direct course to a singular unmarked bookshelf. There’s really no need to get sentimental about this. But all the same...
What would, what will, her old mentor think when she realizes? The concept was enough to send a moment of figurative electricity coursing through veins lined in an expert’s fortifying iron, charge her just long enough to make the ever-steady heart flutter, the calculating eyes blink... once. Just once.
Surprise, chief. Your protégée has come calling.
Now where was that dossier...
Spawned off this quote, and the challenge which was sentimental:
“Indulge yourself in something strong if you used to be a hero, but woke up to yourself before it was too late.”--THE VILLAINOUS DRINKING GAME By Diamonde and Dyce
Title: Journey Home
Author: Chanter
Fandom: Carmen San Diego (I confess I’m working off the PBS television series here, with the image of the original Carmen. Call it circa 1990 or so. I’m really going back to my roots with this one!)
Rating: G I think?
Summary: Carmen’s mind wanders as she’s breaking into a very familiar ACME headquarters. Contains lots of character exploration and history.
258 words
It was her color.
Just like that bridge out there *wasn’t* her color.
She could indulge herself, splurge on a good day, new fasteners for the cloak or a single scarlet feather to accent the ever-present hat. She lived in crimson... but no blood. She could do without the shedding of blood.
She was a thief, after all, not a murderess.
She was a thief. And the window before her had the slightest of defects in it’s construction, the most minute of faults in it’s lock. Even from the outside she could work it, play hand over fingernail poetess, wax elegant as a single hairpin worked it’s magic.
Click.
She was in.
No alarms, not on this level, not within this particular suite of rooms--not where lowly records were concerned. And she... she was returning to her roots with this one. Stop kidding yourself Carmen, some especially icy inner voice chided as designer flats dyed a distinctive shade of ruby made their way from one edge of the antique wood floor to the other, on a direct course to a singular unmarked bookshelf. There’s really no need to get sentimental about this. But all the same...
What would, what will, her old mentor think when she realizes? The concept was enough to send a moment of figurative electricity coursing through veins lined in an expert’s fortifying iron, charge her just long enough to make the ever-steady heart flutter, the calculating eyes blink... once. Just once.
Surprise, chief. Your protégée has come calling.
Now where was that dossier...
