Community Messageboard 3: Sunset of the Mind: Part 2 by farmboy

Sunset of the Mind: Part 2 farmboy - 26/04/2004 05:39:05 PM

Author's note: Sorry this took longer than I had said, but... well, I'm still off work, so it's still the weekend to me
Oh! And parts are still open! NB me "Re: Sunset casting" and let me know what kind of part you want. Just know that the murderer's been chosen, so you can't ask for that part. Anything else, though, I'll try to work in

Sunset of the Mind
Part 2

Farmboy sat in the dark, staring at his computer screen. Every hit of bass made ripples in the colour-changing water. She could be next, and he wouldn’t know until it was too late. It ate at him inside.

The door behind him opened, spilling the light of a dark night into a nearly pitch black room. He turned his head enough to see a face illuminated by the rippling water.

“The Last Poem’s Poet,” the man said, identifying the song that was playing.

Farmboy chuckled and turned back to the screen. “Yeah. I like wallowing in self-pity.”

The hand over his mouth all of a sudden scared him. It was so quick. A cloth held over his mouth and nose. The rippling water slowly turned black…

* * *

Mats Gambling Buddy lounged in his comfy chair beside TaskmasterJack. Mike sat across from them, glaring, with both hands on the desk.

“Farmboy’s gone missing,” MGB said into the silence.

“Going after Mat Girl? I know they’re close.”

Jack shook his head. “No. Brad’s hopelessly in love with her, but he’s not stupid. He knows it’s for her protection, and he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize her safety.”

“So we’ve got another victim? God damn it,” Mike swore, running his fingers through his hair. “He’s one of yours! Shouldn’t he have been trained for something like this?”

“To be fair, sir,” MGB began.

“None of us are trained for this," Jack finished. "It’s the first murder case we’ve had. Not even the wars were so against the norm.”

Mike sighed and looked down at his white knuckles. “I’ve called for backup.”

Jack hesitated. “What do you mean?”

“What I mean, is that we have another agent on his way. From Dragonmount.”

“Dragonmount?” MGB and Jack exclaimed almost in unison.

“Yes. A man from Dragonmount. The only person we’ll be able to trust is an outsider. We can‘t even trust our own officers. We can‘t even trust our own Admins.”

“I don’t believe this!” MGB shouted. “What’s his name?”

“Jason only told me he was sending someone. I don’t even know if it is a he.”

“This is preposterous, Mike! We don’t need any outsiders! Especially one from Dragonmount!”

Mike stood and turned, looking out the window to the once peaceful and safe streets of wotmania. “Yes we do, Jack. Everyone’s a suspect. Even me.”

* * *

“Hey ladies,” Manusho said to two girls across from him at the Chat Diner.

And they laughed at him. Well… giggled, but not in the playful way he’d been hoping for. Obsidian Ashaman came out of nowhere to sit next to one. The other—the one Manusho recognized a little more; her name was Aliena—stood, whispering to the first girl, and walked toward the exit.

She swayed her hips as she walked, and Manusho’s eyes couldn’t help but follow her. Until she turned her head to look right at him. Another laugh, and she was out the door.

Manusho sighed and stared down at the table.

“Hey,” said a beautiful voice as it’s owner sat down at the other side of the small square table. “What’s wrong? Shot down again?”

“Yeah, Silje. Twice at the same time. But… that doesn’t matter.” He looked into the beautiful, sad blue eyes in her beautiful, sad and reddening face. “What’s wrong with you?”

“It’s… I can’t find Brad.” She looked so sad. Manusho knew there was still something there, Mat Girl or no. “It’s so strange,” she said as though off in a different world. “I haven’t been able to feel him since last night. I can’t…”

“What’re you two talking about?” Nebhead asked as he sat down between them, holding a newspaper in one hand.

“We were just talking about farmboy,” Manusho replied, trying not to glare.

“Really sad, huh?” Ben said, looking at Silje with sympathy. “Victim number two.”

“What?” Silje exclaimed.

“I thought you knew. He was killed last night. They still haven’t found the body.” Laying the newspaper he held on the table—the wotmania Tabloid—he added, “I know they wouldn’t have taken a picture without helping. Just a black and white of a recreation.”

“No, he’s not dead,” she said, shaking her head. “Golden_lily said so.”

“Lily? Listen, Silje, denile is a…” Ben began.

“No! Lily knows how it feels to lose a warder like that. As weak as the feeling is, she says you can still feel it. This is different. All three of us have the same feeling, and it's not death.”

Manusho put a hand on her shoulder, and all the tension seemed to drain out of her. Most of it, anyway. “It’s okay, Rinny. We believe you.”

* * *

Aliena walked down the street towards home. Cautious of all the people around—after all, any one of them could be the murderer; a scary thought, especially for a flirt.

“Hi,” said a man’s voice behind her.

She turned her head enough to see him, and unconsciously batted her eyelashes.

“Hi. Do I know you?”

“I’m sorry. My name’s Adanedhel. I just… I saw you at the Diner, and… I thought you were pretty. I wanted to talk to you.”

Aliena looked away coyly. Thinking quick, she came to a decision. If he was the murderer, there were a lot of witnesses… Putting out her hand, she said, “I’m Aliena.”

* * *

Rinoa opened her eyes at the sound of the door opening. She had thought for a second that it might have been David getting up, but her arms were still tight around him—her head was still laying on his chest.

A shadow moved in the moonlight spilling through the window, and it was all over before she knew it.

The ear piercing shriek she’d let out must have been heard, but by the time the WSS showed up, it was too late. Rinoa sat rocking back and forth in the corner, bare knees held against bare chest by blood spattered arms. Whimpering quietly, she stared sightlessly at the foot of the bed where Manusho’s body lay in a pool of his own blood.

My brain has been swiss cheesed like Scott Bakula's on Quantum Leap