Jan. 1st, 2012

Crossroads

Jan. 1st, 2012 11:06 pm
thulcandran: (Default)
Hey, Happy New Year! I made two resolutions of interest to this little space: one, broaden my writing style (thus the following, though I've wanted to start doing stuff like this for a long time), and two, Rite Moar. So hopefully, you'll start seeing stuff like this more often.

Crossroads (part I)

Scene: a small brick room, one wooden table, low ceiling, and a rickety wooden door on the far end. On the other side of the table sits a man who appears to be in his late forties-- is actually about 36-- and a small sack on the table. A much younger man-- about twenty-one or so-- stands next to the table, looking worried.

Frank: Just take it, kid. That's all there is, for now.

Joey: I'm not sure, though. If this is how it starts... Frank, I just don't trust this.

F- Heh. You worry too much. This is only the beginning, but things will get better. Just don't do anything stupid. Things will get... bigger.

J- Yeah. That's what I'm afraid of. [takes sack, exits by door]

---

Scene: A small, run-down gatehouse by a crossroads. The tower is two stories, ivy-covered, and crumbling; to all outward appearances, the place is abandoned. Inside, a few candles light the space, and a rugged-looking man of indiscriminate age and excellent armor is sitting at a low table, while a woman, circa 30, leans on the door, holding a sack similar to the one in Scene 1.

Ann: How's the hustle comin', anyway? We're picking up on our end, how're you gettin' along?

James: [shaking head, a loose and easy grin] Oh, don't you worry about us. We picked up a fine set of horses today, and we'll do the same tomorrow. As long as traffic on this road keeps up, we'll have things shakin' outtta the sky before too long.

Ann: [a shrug; not quite as cocksure] Yeah, if you say so. Just remember, we've got the price to pay, first. That toll ain't goin' away anytime fast.

James: Yeah, yeah, yeah. You got the goods, now get outta my hair.

Ann: [slips out the gate, locking it behind him]

James: She's gone, buddy. Might as well come out.

Avaric: [wincing, slides in from the rope strung over the upper window] God, I thought she'd never leave. What's she hang around for so long, anyway?

James: She worries. Always has, but with this she's got twice as much to worry about, so she gets twice as antsy about things. Don't let it get to you; we've come too far to let her bring things down now.

[Outside, the sound of footsteps]

James-- Eh, see? Let's get to it, now. You know the drill-- I'll take 'em down, you seal the deal with that patron of ours.

Ann- [nodding, steps into the shadows beyond the gate and disappears]

---

Joey: They've been bringing in a lot more, lately. Are you sure things are all working out?

Frank: God and saints above, kid, do you ever stop worrying? James might be a slick one, but he knows better than to twist up a gig like this. Just get things done - we'll meet up later, yeah? I'll even have a drink with you, tonight; you deserve one.

Joey: [smiles, just a bit] Thanks, buddy. Watch your back. [exit]

Frank: [sighing deeply] Ann, if you don't keep this all under wraps, so help me God, I'll kill you myself. This is above my paygrade, and sure as fuck above his.

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