It's all in the eyes.
Jul. 26th, 2006 01:15 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
keire_keI've been rewatching LotR today. I've ranted about how they screwed up the Army of the Dead thing in the extended edition, haven't I? I like the theatrical release much better. *sulks*
Anyway, since it seems to be a day for funnies. You've most likely seen it, but I'm slow on the uptake:
"They're taking the hobbits to Isengard!"
Easter Egg from TTT: Gollum gets the MTV movie award.
Heero stared. Really, there was little else he could do. Duo sauntered to the gate of the most sophisticated private possession in the city, as if he owned the place. He waved at the bulky guard, grinning widely. Heero hoped he wouldn’t be noticed if he followed, but no such luck. The guard thrust a card in his face, face down. The policeman looked at it and the guard questioningly.
“The Fool,” Duo piped in, grabbing Heero’s elbow. “He’s with me.”
“I have my orders, Mr Maxwell.”
“Ahmed, please? I’ve been here what, every other night?”
The guard opened his mouth to respond and closed it swiftly, when his cell phone rang. He managed little more than his surname, before he motioned for the two to enter. Duo beamed and walked through the gate. Heero followed, marvelling at the surroundings. They had a couple hundreds of meters to go, before they reached the house. Building, at any rate. The garden, or rather the park, was largely left to fend for itself, apart from an occasional fountain and a bench.
“If you ask me, it’s a bit too fancy for a club, but hey. I love the place to bits anyway.”
“A club? It’s a club?”
“Yeah. I mean, it is a private property, but Quatre converted it into a club for us freaks to hang out in.”
“Quatre. Now you’re trying to tell me you’re on first-name basis with Quatre Winner.” That was probably the information most worthy of scepticism.
“He’s a great guy. You’ll see.”
“And he’s okay with you just bringing in random people to see him?” Duo gave him the ‘duh’ look.
“Who do you think called Ahmed to let you in?”
“Oh. What was the deal with the card, anyway?”
“I told you it’s a club for freaks.”
“That kind of freaks.”
“What did you think?” To his utmost embarrassment, Heero blushed. “You sure have a dirty mind. And that was me guessing, not me reading what’s on top of your mind.”
“I wish you didn’t say that,” the blue-eyed man muttered. “I hate remembering you can do that.”
“No worries. I can only do it when I make an effort. I rarely bother, unless I’m playing poker to win.”
“Remind me never to play against you.” They passed the main door, following the gravel path to the east wing. Several steps down, an unremarkable door was opening to welcome them.
“Good afternoon, Mr Maxwell.”
“Hey Rashid. How’s it going?”
“Very well, thank you.”
“I am rather surprised to see you here, guarding the door. Did you step on Quat’s favourite tea cup again?” The giant man mumbled something under his breath. Duo patted his arm sympathetically. “There, there. It’s not like he can expect people to pay attention to every cup he leaves lying around the place.”
The small hall morphed into a staircase almost immediately. Now Heero could believe there was a club in there – he could hear the music pulsing through the stone floor, along with splashes of light appearing on the walls every once in a while.
“Let’s mingle,” Duo advised cheerfully, walking down with a bounce in his step. And then there was the club. Despite the warnings, the freaks looked a lot like normal people. In fact, if Duo hadn’t told him it’s a freak club, Heero might have considered hanging out in this place – the music suited his tastes and the dim lights soothed his eyes.
The lights, it seemed, were designed to bring out the inner freak. Almost everyone’s eyes glowed golden. Not just the irises, but the pupils. The detective in him couldn’t help but stare.
“You okay?” Duo was one of the few people whose eyes were more or less normal, as long as vibrant violet is normal. It was tough to look away from those eyes during the daylight – in the creepy, basement lighting Heero found it to be damn near impossible. Not just the eyes really. Shadows danced across the exorcist’s face, sharpening his youthful features into what Heero would expect, given what he’d seen today – a dangerous demon hunter.
“Yes,” he answered finally. “I’m okay.” A little out of my mind, he added to himself, but great.
“Good.”
They walked through the club, stopping here and there so that Duo could chat with various friends, most of whom gave Heero the shivers. He probably should have expected anything here, but more than once he felt the ground beneath his feet sway dangerously. Freak show indeed.
Eventually they came to a stop in front of a table for five, already occupied by several people. As they approached, one of them stood up and left, nodding to Duo politely. Once more with the eyes, Heero thought. The stranger had dark, short hair and one vividly green eye. His right one was white. He was also, quite possibly, the poster boy for angst, judging by his expression.
“Hey guys. This is Heero Yuy,” Duo introduced him to the remaining occupants. “Solo thought I need a sidekick and here he is.”
“Pleased to meet you, Heero.” The blond was, quite possibly, one of the creepiest people the detective saw in the club so far. His eyes were wide and blue like the Caribbean sea. Together with the pale blond of his hair gave him the appearance of a truly stereotypical angel, as corny as it seemed. “I’m Quatre Winner.”
… definitely the creepiest.
“The stoneface is Trowa Barton, Quatre’s bodyguard. And the other b-position, but let’s not get into that.” The first noticeable thing about Trowa, was his hair. Then came the green eyes and lack of expression, perfected by the best bodyguards around the globe. He nodded briefly in their direction, by the way of greeting.
“Hello.” Heero made an effort not to think of anything specific. He’d had his fill of mind reading today.
“They’re not mind readers.” So much for the efforts then. “I told you, mind reading is like trying to count the stripes on a bee in the midst of a swarm.”
“What do you do then?”
“Quatre is a psychic and a bit of a clairvoyant on the side. Trowa is in the same boat as you, so to speak, that is a non-freak in this freaky world. But pleasantries aside. Guess who I met today?”
“Aside from Heero?”
“Samyaza.”
“Samyaza? Where?”
“In a dying, teenaged girl.” Quatre’s brows furrowed.
“This is bad news… Is this why you’ve come?”
“Like I’m not here every other day? But yes, partly at least. Something is brewing, something big,” Duo said quietly. “Even the cops noticed. Which is why Heero is here.”
“Let’s go upstairs,” Quatre suggested finishing his drink. Upstairs proved to be a study commonly found in movies about obscenely rich people. They seated themselves on low chairs, ones that could easily be accused of being beanbags, in different apartments. If the rumours were true, the “obscenely rich” included the Winner family, but still, finding oneself in such a surroundings, being served tea by an elegant French maid… Heero was having a surreal night.
“As if the fact that Samyaza was there wasn’t weird enough, he said something strange.”
“Excuse me,” Heero interrupted. “Why is this Samyaza thing so important?”
“I’ll spare you the scholarly details,” Quatre said, taking a sip. “Samyaza is a powerful Fallen Angel, used to be one of the Grigori, Watchers. In general, the higher the rank, the less likely they are to be found on our plane. According to some traditions, his sin was pride, which makes his appearance very unlikely.”
“According to the right traditions, I’d say. He’s an arrogant bastard, that’s who he is. He thinks possessing a human is beneath his status. So is speaking with a human, come to think of it.”
“Obviously not.”
“He told me He was coming soon,” Duo said quietly. Quatre stared at him in alarm, but, as Heero noted, without surprise.
“So soon?”
“You don’t seem surprised.”
“No, I… I had a vision.”
“No shit?”
“No shit.”
“Who is coming?” Heero asked, vaguely irritated. He came here with questions to be answered, damn it. Quatre looked at him, a strange expression in his eyes.
“The Antichrist.” The detective stared.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Sorry, but no. There’s only one person the demons would anticipate, and that is the Antichrist. Didn’t you watch the Omen?”
“What, another blockbuster Hollywood got right?”
“No, but the principle is sound. It took a considerable amount of effort to get them to make the new version though.” There was a trace of smugness in Quatre’s voice. “Not that I had a hand in making it, unfortunately.”
“Quat is a bit of a movie fanatic,” Duo explained, grinning.
“So, the Antichrist is coming, meaning the Apocalypse is just around the corner?” Heero asked impatiently.
“Broadly speaking, yes.”
“Splendid.”
“What about this vision?” Duo asked. Quatre’s brows furrowed.
“It was pretty hazy, but what I know now, is that something will happen soon, can’t tell you how soon exactly, but soon. And… I saw Heero.”
“What?”
“I saw Heero killing the Antichrist,” the blond finished quietly. The room fell into silence. Trowa laid a hand on Quatre’s shoulder in a comforting gesture, while Heero and Duo stared, their eyes round as saucers.
There is only one phrase in the English language that could aptly describe their feelings in that precise moment, and that phrase was “well, fuck.”
Cookies if you know who the guest star is!
Anyway, since it seems to be a day for funnies. You've most likely seen it, but I'm slow on the uptake:
"They're taking the hobbits to Isengard!"
Easter Egg from TTT: Gollum gets the MTV movie award.
Heero stared. Really, there was little else he could do. Duo sauntered to the gate of the most sophisticated private possession in the city, as if he owned the place. He waved at the bulky guard, grinning widely. Heero hoped he wouldn’t be noticed if he followed, but no such luck. The guard thrust a card in his face, face down. The policeman looked at it and the guard questioningly.
“The Fool,” Duo piped in, grabbing Heero’s elbow. “He’s with me.”
“I have my orders, Mr Maxwell.”
“Ahmed, please? I’ve been here what, every other night?”
The guard opened his mouth to respond and closed it swiftly, when his cell phone rang. He managed little more than his surname, before he motioned for the two to enter. Duo beamed and walked through the gate. Heero followed, marvelling at the surroundings. They had a couple hundreds of meters to go, before they reached the house. Building, at any rate. The garden, or rather the park, was largely left to fend for itself, apart from an occasional fountain and a bench.
“If you ask me, it’s a bit too fancy for a club, but hey. I love the place to bits anyway.”
“A club? It’s a club?”
“Yeah. I mean, it is a private property, but Quatre converted it into a club for us freaks to hang out in.”
“Quatre. Now you’re trying to tell me you’re on first-name basis with Quatre Winner.” That was probably the information most worthy of scepticism.
“He’s a great guy. You’ll see.”
“And he’s okay with you just bringing in random people to see him?” Duo gave him the ‘duh’ look.
“Who do you think called Ahmed to let you in?”
“Oh. What was the deal with the card, anyway?”
“I told you it’s a club for freaks.”
“That kind of freaks.”
“What did you think?” To his utmost embarrassment, Heero blushed. “You sure have a dirty mind. And that was me guessing, not me reading what’s on top of your mind.”
“I wish you didn’t say that,” the blue-eyed man muttered. “I hate remembering you can do that.”
“No worries. I can only do it when I make an effort. I rarely bother, unless I’m playing poker to win.”
“Remind me never to play against you.” They passed the main door, following the gravel path to the east wing. Several steps down, an unremarkable door was opening to welcome them.
“Good afternoon, Mr Maxwell.”
“Hey Rashid. How’s it going?”
“Very well, thank you.”
“I am rather surprised to see you here, guarding the door. Did you step on Quat’s favourite tea cup again?” The giant man mumbled something under his breath. Duo patted his arm sympathetically. “There, there. It’s not like he can expect people to pay attention to every cup he leaves lying around the place.”
The small hall morphed into a staircase almost immediately. Now Heero could believe there was a club in there – he could hear the music pulsing through the stone floor, along with splashes of light appearing on the walls every once in a while.
“Let’s mingle,” Duo advised cheerfully, walking down with a bounce in his step. And then there was the club. Despite the warnings, the freaks looked a lot like normal people. In fact, if Duo hadn’t told him it’s a freak club, Heero might have considered hanging out in this place – the music suited his tastes and the dim lights soothed his eyes.
The lights, it seemed, were designed to bring out the inner freak. Almost everyone’s eyes glowed golden. Not just the irises, but the pupils. The detective in him couldn’t help but stare.
“You okay?” Duo was one of the few people whose eyes were more or less normal, as long as vibrant violet is normal. It was tough to look away from those eyes during the daylight – in the creepy, basement lighting Heero found it to be damn near impossible. Not just the eyes really. Shadows danced across the exorcist’s face, sharpening his youthful features into what Heero would expect, given what he’d seen today – a dangerous demon hunter.
“Yes,” he answered finally. “I’m okay.” A little out of my mind, he added to himself, but great.
“Good.”
They walked through the club, stopping here and there so that Duo could chat with various friends, most of whom gave Heero the shivers. He probably should have expected anything here, but more than once he felt the ground beneath his feet sway dangerously. Freak show indeed.
Eventually they came to a stop in front of a table for five, already occupied by several people. As they approached, one of them stood up and left, nodding to Duo politely. Once more with the eyes, Heero thought. The stranger had dark, short hair and one vividly green eye. His right one was white. He was also, quite possibly, the poster boy for angst, judging by his expression.
“Hey guys. This is Heero Yuy,” Duo introduced him to the remaining occupants. “Solo thought I need a sidekick and here he is.”
“Pleased to meet you, Heero.” The blond was, quite possibly, one of the creepiest people the detective saw in the club so far. His eyes were wide and blue like the Caribbean sea. Together with the pale blond of his hair gave him the appearance of a truly stereotypical angel, as corny as it seemed. “I’m Quatre Winner.”
… definitely the creepiest.
“The stoneface is Trowa Barton, Quatre’s bodyguard. And the other b-position, but let’s not get into that.” The first noticeable thing about Trowa, was his hair. Then came the green eyes and lack of expression, perfected by the best bodyguards around the globe. He nodded briefly in their direction, by the way of greeting.
“Hello.” Heero made an effort not to think of anything specific. He’d had his fill of mind reading today.
“They’re not mind readers.” So much for the efforts then. “I told you, mind reading is like trying to count the stripes on a bee in the midst of a swarm.”
“What do you do then?”
“Quatre is a psychic and a bit of a clairvoyant on the side. Trowa is in the same boat as you, so to speak, that is a non-freak in this freaky world. But pleasantries aside. Guess who I met today?”
“Aside from Heero?”
“Samyaza.”
“Samyaza? Where?”
“In a dying, teenaged girl.” Quatre’s brows furrowed.
“This is bad news… Is this why you’ve come?”
“Like I’m not here every other day? But yes, partly at least. Something is brewing, something big,” Duo said quietly. “Even the cops noticed. Which is why Heero is here.”
“Let’s go upstairs,” Quatre suggested finishing his drink. Upstairs proved to be a study commonly found in movies about obscenely rich people. They seated themselves on low chairs, ones that could easily be accused of being beanbags, in different apartments. If the rumours were true, the “obscenely rich” included the Winner family, but still, finding oneself in such a surroundings, being served tea by an elegant French maid… Heero was having a surreal night.
“As if the fact that Samyaza was there wasn’t weird enough, he said something strange.”
“Excuse me,” Heero interrupted. “Why is this Samyaza thing so important?”
“I’ll spare you the scholarly details,” Quatre said, taking a sip. “Samyaza is a powerful Fallen Angel, used to be one of the Grigori, Watchers. In general, the higher the rank, the less likely they are to be found on our plane. According to some traditions, his sin was pride, which makes his appearance very unlikely.”
“According to the right traditions, I’d say. He’s an arrogant bastard, that’s who he is. He thinks possessing a human is beneath his status. So is speaking with a human, come to think of it.”
“Obviously not.”
“He told me He was coming soon,” Duo said quietly. Quatre stared at him in alarm, but, as Heero noted, without surprise.
“So soon?”
“You don’t seem surprised.”
“No, I… I had a vision.”
“No shit?”
“No shit.”
“Who is coming?” Heero asked, vaguely irritated. He came here with questions to be answered, damn it. Quatre looked at him, a strange expression in his eyes.
“The Antichrist.” The detective stared.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Sorry, but no. There’s only one person the demons would anticipate, and that is the Antichrist. Didn’t you watch the Omen?”
“What, another blockbuster Hollywood got right?”
“No, but the principle is sound. It took a considerable amount of effort to get them to make the new version though.” There was a trace of smugness in Quatre’s voice. “Not that I had a hand in making it, unfortunately.”
“Quat is a bit of a movie fanatic,” Duo explained, grinning.
“So, the Antichrist is coming, meaning the Apocalypse is just around the corner?” Heero asked impatiently.
“Broadly speaking, yes.”
“Splendid.”
“What about this vision?” Duo asked. Quatre’s brows furrowed.
“It was pretty hazy, but what I know now, is that something will happen soon, can’t tell you how soon exactly, but soon. And… I saw Heero.”
“What?”
“I saw Heero killing the Antichrist,” the blond finished quietly. The room fell into silence. Trowa laid a hand on Quatre’s shoulder in a comforting gesture, while Heero and Duo stared, their eyes round as saucers.
There is only one phrase in the English language that could aptly describe their feelings in that precise moment, and that phrase was “well, fuck.”
Cookies if you know who the guest star is!
