Six Sentence Sunday - Route A
Jun. 2nd, 2019 10:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
windlionDa Qing drummed his fingers restlessly on the table, rings flashing in the light, "What if Kunlun didn't die?"
Zhu Hong scowled at him, "That's a corpse--he's not getting any livelier."
Da Qing could feel the wheels turning into place. "We're the only ones who know."
Gelan, who found him, Sang Zan, who she called, then Zhu Hong and Da Qing. Da Qing let a speculative look cross his face as he considered Zhu Hong first: she was a predator, efficient, ruthless in her own way. "Unless you want to step up and take over?"
The way she balked for a split second, eyes going wide before narrowing into an implacable, scornful expression, he knew she didn't want it. Not yet. "I could. Why not you?"
Da Qing drawled, "I'm a lieutenant, I'm not a leader. Too much work."
"Lazy."
"Smart." Da Qing stretched, from toes to fingers reaching for the skylight. "This crew is too rowdy for the likes of me."
Zhu Hong snorted, but it wasn't in disagreement. She looked directly at the other two in the room. "What about you?"
Gelan looked pale, more fragile than usual in the protective arms of her boyfriend. Sang Zan frowned at them, hesitating. He didn't want to let go of her to sign, so he scowled and stammered, "Not me. Too much fighting."
Gelan raised her hand to rest it on his, turning her head up so that he could follow her lips as she spoke, "Ah Zan's right. Kunlun was the only one who could hold the factions together."
Da Qing smirked at the room, "So, we're in agreement that it's best if Kunlun didn't die."
Zhu Hong leaned forward over the table, sharp fingernails threatening to scratch the lacquer wood. "Except he did. How do you plan to fix that?"
Da Qing didn't let himself retreat from the attention, thought of every single time he'd caught Kunlun out of the corner of his eye or heard his voice and nearly said another name instead. Training had saved him from tripping over his tongue, and luckily Kunlun had allowed the familiar nicknames without protest as Da Qing wormed his way into the triad.
"I know someone who can be Kunlun."
(For the . . . spirit of Six Sentence Sunday, if not the proper count.)
Zhu Hong scowled at him, "That's a corpse--he's not getting any livelier."
Da Qing could feel the wheels turning into place. "We're the only ones who know."
Gelan, who found him, Sang Zan, who she called, then Zhu Hong and Da Qing. Da Qing let a speculative look cross his face as he considered Zhu Hong first: she was a predator, efficient, ruthless in her own way. "Unless you want to step up and take over?"
The way she balked for a split second, eyes going wide before narrowing into an implacable, scornful expression, he knew she didn't want it. Not yet. "I could. Why not you?"
Da Qing drawled, "I'm a lieutenant, I'm not a leader. Too much work."
"Lazy."
"Smart." Da Qing stretched, from toes to fingers reaching for the skylight. "This crew is too rowdy for the likes of me."
Zhu Hong snorted, but it wasn't in disagreement. She looked directly at the other two in the room. "What about you?"
Gelan looked pale, more fragile than usual in the protective arms of her boyfriend. Sang Zan frowned at them, hesitating. He didn't want to let go of her to sign, so he scowled and stammered, "Not me. Too much fighting."
Gelan raised her hand to rest it on his, turning her head up so that he could follow her lips as she spoke, "Ah Zan's right. Kunlun was the only one who could hold the factions together."
Da Qing smirked at the room, "So, we're in agreement that it's best if Kunlun didn't die."
Zhu Hong leaned forward over the table, sharp fingernails threatening to scratch the lacquer wood. "Except he did. How do you plan to fix that?"
Da Qing didn't let himself retreat from the attention, thought of every single time he'd caught Kunlun out of the corner of his eye or heard his voice and nearly said another name instead. Training had saved him from tripping over his tongue, and luckily Kunlun had allowed the familiar nicknames without protest as Da Qing wormed his way into the triad.
"I know someone who can be Kunlun."
(For the . . . spirit of Six Sentence Sunday, if not the proper count.)
no subject
Date: 2019-07-14 09:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-07-14 10:32 pm (UTC)"How long do I have to think about it?"
"Official briefing's Monday. They'll ask for a response within 48 hours."
Zhao Yunlan snorted, feeling bureaucracy at work. "How soon's Kunlun going to be missed?"
"Yesterday."
"Fuck. I thought so." Zhao Yunlan scrubbed his hand over his face, pressing tired eyes closed and scratching along the stubble of his jaw. Did they really have to do this right after he came off shift? Timing. Timing was everything. "Where's he need to be next?"
"Depends on who you're asking."
"You."
Da Qing hedged, shrugging, "Soon as possible. Anywhere on his turf. He's a hands on kinda guy. Likes being seen and being heard."
"Right, fine, let's go say hi to a dead man and his friends."
no subject
Date: 2019-07-14 10:40 pm (UTC)