I was truly annoyed right then. Some pathetic excuse for a villain calling himself “Cogsworthy, the Clock Fancier” had actually managed to force me into an armwrestle with one of his clocks, loudly proclaiming, “My gleaming clockwork can defeat any propagator of such direly chaotic abstractions as ‘freedom’ and ‘compassion’. Face the perfection and truth of a clock’s steel hands!”
So there I was, being yelled at by a fascist with a clock fetish, yet another bizarre evening for Glimmer Girl, when my phone rang. Obviously I was a little preoccupied so I let it go to voicemail. I figured it was probably just Tanya trying to bother me about something slightly less important than this lunatic’s nearly finished clockwork behemoth he was hellbent on unleashing to destroy the city. After all, it was Tanya who insisted I keep my phone on me at all times today, saying something about Christmas shopping.
Well, that was just peachy, but in the meantime I had to turn back the clock, literally. The second hand was inexorably ticking down to the 6, despite throwing all my strength into my efforts. Twenty seconds left. I glanced over my shoulder at the captives being lowered into one of the great vats of molten metal. I had to give Cogs that one; usually it’s a cliche and there’s no real reason for them, but a clockwork engineer working on building immense weapons of war honestly needs vats of molten metal.
As I turned my head back, fifteen seconds, I noticed the gap between the clockface and the date ticker. Or whatever that’s called. Of course, I realised, and zipped through the gap. Though the hands on the clock were ridiculously strong, the clockwork inside was just a single component going out of alignment away from stopping the whole mechanism cold. Bouncing off the numerous reflective surfaces countless times I tried to force it all apart, but nothing budged until a whole second after entering. That’s when a spring popped out. I zoomed right back out again and in the next two seconds, as I slowed myself back down to regular human speeds, the gears ground to a halt and the hands stopped.
I was flushed with the thrill of victory, having saved the hostages with twelve seconds to spare. Any later and they’d probably have suffered some nasty burns at the least. It always annoyed me that in tv shows and movies someone being lowered into molten metal or lava could be almost touching it and come away unscathed. The whole thing where they’ll be being lowered fast enough that when it cuts away they should be five seconds from burning alive yet when the camera goes back to them a minute later they’re as high up as they were at the beginning of the last shot on them? Sure, that’s even more obviously stupid, but at least no one would believe that’s how it works. The getting really close thing could get someone seriously hurt.
My phone started to ring again and I ignored it once more. I had hostages to save. Only, I actually didn’t. A tall, handsome man in a suit, trenchcoat and dark glasses was standing around them, all gathered safely on the floor several steps away from the vats.
That still left the Clock Fancier, who I can’t imagine has ever had contact with another human being for the last two decades, given both his mania and choice of villainous moniker. I shouldn’t joke about that, admittedly; it’s not nice to speak ill of the dead.
Yeah, that’s right. I looked over to where I last saw him, and this time he was sprawled facedown in a pool of his own blood. Now, if he was hoisted by his own petard in some way, I could have dealt with it. But no, there was someone, a scrawny teenage boy with neck-length hair in a suit, I guessed, holding a smoking gun while standing over Cogs. I hate killer vigilantes, but an apparent kid younger than me? Disturbing.
I looked back at the handsome man, intending to call the pair out, but he’d vanished and the hostages looked perplexed. Glancing back in Cogs’ direction confirmed his killer was gone too. That’s when the phone rang a third time, and this time there wasn’t anything else to do. I answered, then grinned when I replied to the caller’s initial greeting. “Brandon? I don’t know any Brandon.”
GG thinks Ryan (i think its Ryan) is handsome…does that mean we have to start shipping it now??
Ryan is handsome. He was made that way. It’s an objective assessment rather than necessarily anything to do with attraction right there and then. If I’d expanded on it the narration would have been more like “The man was handsome, that was true, but it was in a sort of bland, almost sculpted way. Besides that, he’d ninja’d my rescue. What a jerk.”
But hey, shippers gonna ship!
Sculpted…like Adonis! 😛 *goes and beats self up for thinking like SMeyer*
But hey, shippers gonna ship!
I have to say, it’s one of the more bizzzzare pairings that have come up. o_0
So, yeah. First person narration because that’s what Kaira does. I’m sure it’s part of her power set in some way. Also, long because it couldn’t be shorter without just cutting it off at an arbitrary point that wouldn’t move the story forward. B[
Your icon outranks my icon. -_-
*force-feeds your icon cookies*
I bet for a cookie it’s the other way around, IRL! 😀
I agree…
With all the comments of Ryan being handsome… I was imagining a better-looking Ryan! ^_^
That’s a very safe bet, AL13N. >_>
Though she defers to my wisdom a lot, she’s in charge. It’s like she’s the queen and I’m her closest advisor.
Well, i’m married, so I know how it generally goes… 😀
too bad i won’t get a cookie now 🙁
Nice, GG really has some stupid villains, some time…
I really like captives and the molten metal thing!
lovely touch, GG thinking Stef’s a little boy.
GG thinking Stef’s a little boy.
Well, I guess the way she looks + from the back + in a suit there wouldn’t be much difference between a boy and a girl 😀
Cogsworthy, the Clock Fancier
Lol, good one!
So there I was, being yelled at by a fascist with a clock fetish
Hehe, coolest thing I’ve read all day. 😀
You get extra points for the vats of molten metal!
And I’ll agree with AL13N on this: GG thinking Stef is a teenage boy is a great touch :p
Now the agency doesn’t do hero work often, so this Cogsworthy must have had a connection to a mirror or solstace (sp?) somehow. Either way he is a goner.
And Stef has been described as a little boy from a distance, till they get close enough to see her better or hear her.
Maybe he’s a rogue faerie? Maybe he’s possessed by a dancer? Maybe he’s been dabbling in forbidden magic to make his inventions actually work in spite of the laws of physics? Maybe he’s using technology stolen from the gods and so the order was given to take him out? Maybe it’s actually one of the hostages that was really the point of interest for the Agency? IT COULD BE ANYTHING!
We’ll just have to wait and see if someone else makes something of it before we’re done. 🙂
That’s what I really like; you write stuff, and leave lots of possibilities, not knowing which one the following person chooses (or even going a totally different direction)