Round 1 Fill
Mar. 11th, 2014 08:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
n_wilkinsona/n: And the first fill for Flash Fiction Friday arrives!
Enjoy!
For Cancerheart69
Prompt: CLUE-themed fic with Ciara as the victim
Universe: The Mimickers. Warnings: black humor, irreverent treatment of death and an unresolved cliffhanger
a/n: Stay tuned for the Round 3 Fills and keep an eye out for Round 4, set to begin in April, unsure of which weekend yet. Possibly the 11th.
Feedback is welcome and appreciated.
Enjoy!
For Cancerheart69
Prompt: CLUE-themed fic with Ciara as the victim
Universe: The Mimickers. Warnings: black humor, irreverent treatment of death and an unresolved cliffhanger
“How could this happen?” Phaedra breathes, horror in her eyes as she stares at the body lying in a pool of blood.
“A knife,” says Tolian, crouching down to further inspect the body. “A really big knife.”
“Or,” says Chelan with a narrow-eyed look at their leader. “A really big sword.”
“It wasn't me!” Jareth declares with a growl, hands fisting.
“He's right,” says Rivalen, giving them all a bored look. “These strikes are much too precise in comparison to Jareth's usual talent.”
They had all nicknamed it the 'hack-and-slash' in honor of Jareth's preferred method of swinging that massive sword of his around until all of his enemies are dead. It works, for the most part and when surrounded by hordes of enemies. For one on one combat? Well, it's no wonder that they have yet to defeat Ahriman.
Jareth sneers. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Anytime.”
“I think there was a time when we all wanted to kill her,” comments Tolian to Phaedra's increasing horror. “I didn't think any of us would actually do it.”
“Tolian!” the pretty blonde scolds, folding her arms across her chest. “That's a terrible thing to say.”
“Well, it's true,” the engineer and medic retorts, pushing himself to his feet. “Ciara's dead. One of us killed her and I can't say I'm surprised.” He pauses with a wince. “It wasn't me, by the way.”
“Or me!” says Jareth with a huff.
“I didn't do it either,” drawls Rivalen.
“Well, I certainly didn't do it!” argues Phaedra, wiping at the tears gathering in her pretty eyes. “I actually liked Ciara.”
Danam scoffs. “She probably did it to herself. Tripped and fell.”
“On her own sword?” Chelan retorts with a roll of his eyes, all three of them. “She is more skilled than that. Jareth, I could believe. But Ciara? No.”
“Hey!” Jareth puffs up with offense. “I resent that remark!”
“Resemble it, too,” Rivalen mutters under his breath, but everyone hears him anyway. The rivalry between the two knows no bounds.
Phaedra waves her hands in the air and slips between the two, ever-watchful of the growing storm in Jareth's eyes. “Not the time,” she warns. “Have a little respect, all right? Ciara's dead.”
“Yes, she is,” says Tolian, dusting off his hands. “And we have to find out who did it.”
“This sounds like a lot of work,” Danam sighs.
Chelan shakes his head. “Such a shame,” he murmurs. “Ciara in the Engine Room with a knife. Who could have seen this coming?”
“Whoever did it,” Jareth answers, a scowl on his lips as he directs a glare at the blood-soaked body. “I knew she was going to be trouble from day one.”
Barely a drop of sympathy could be found amongst those gathered. The perpetrator couldn't have found a less-liked victim.
Poor Ciara.
“A knife,” says Tolian, crouching down to further inspect the body. “A really big knife.”
“Or,” says Chelan with a narrow-eyed look at their leader. “A really big sword.”
“It wasn't me!” Jareth declares with a growl, hands fisting.
“He's right,” says Rivalen, giving them all a bored look. “These strikes are much too precise in comparison to Jareth's usual talent.”
They had all nicknamed it the 'hack-and-slash' in honor of Jareth's preferred method of swinging that massive sword of his around until all of his enemies are dead. It works, for the most part and when surrounded by hordes of enemies. For one on one combat? Well, it's no wonder that they have yet to defeat Ahriman.
Jareth sneers. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Anytime.”
“I think there was a time when we all wanted to kill her,” comments Tolian to Phaedra's increasing horror. “I didn't think any of us would actually do it.”
“Tolian!” the pretty blonde scolds, folding her arms across her chest. “That's a terrible thing to say.”
“Well, it's true,” the engineer and medic retorts, pushing himself to his feet. “Ciara's dead. One of us killed her and I can't say I'm surprised.” He pauses with a wince. “It wasn't me, by the way.”
“Or me!” says Jareth with a huff.
“I didn't do it either,” drawls Rivalen.
“Well, I certainly didn't do it!” argues Phaedra, wiping at the tears gathering in her pretty eyes. “I actually liked Ciara.”
Danam scoffs. “She probably did it to herself. Tripped and fell.”
“On her own sword?” Chelan retorts with a roll of his eyes, all three of them. “She is more skilled than that. Jareth, I could believe. But Ciara? No.”
“Hey!” Jareth puffs up with offense. “I resent that remark!”
“Resemble it, too,” Rivalen mutters under his breath, but everyone hears him anyway. The rivalry between the two knows no bounds.
Phaedra waves her hands in the air and slips between the two, ever-watchful of the growing storm in Jareth's eyes. “Not the time,” she warns. “Have a little respect, all right? Ciara's dead.”
“Yes, she is,” says Tolian, dusting off his hands. “And we have to find out who did it.”
“This sounds like a lot of work,” Danam sighs.
Chelan shakes his head. “Such a shame,” he murmurs. “Ciara in the Engine Room with a knife. Who could have seen this coming?”
“Whoever did it,” Jareth answers, a scowl on his lips as he directs a glare at the blood-soaked body. “I knew she was going to be trouble from day one.”
Barely a drop of sympathy could be found amongst those gathered. The perpetrator couldn't have found a less-liked victim.
Poor Ciara.
a/n: Stay tuned for the Round 3 Fills and keep an eye out for Round 4, set to begin in April, unsure of which weekend yet. Possibly the 11th.
Feedback is welcome and appreciated.
