(no subject)
Writing sample for Paradisa ... I had no beta, but since I still feel like it came out well, I decided to put it here. I had to rush it along just a bit at the end, because I was having too much fun, and realized it was getting a little long for an application sample ... but other than that, I like it.
The line at the Lower Manhattan branch of the DMV was just what Kay had expected it to be: abysmally long. Rummaging around in his suit pocket, he found what he was looking for: a slim, silver device that could pass as an iPod to the casual observer. Clipping it to the rim of his pocket, Kay took the hotsheet he'd tucked under his arm, re-folded it for a more convenient reading-in-line configuration, and began skimming the second page.
"Damn, man," his partner griped, rubbing at the back of his neck. "How come we gotta spend what's lookin' like half our damn morning in line? Can't we just go up an' nab this skimmer?"
"Nope," Kay drawled, glancing up over his tabloid. "Remember what Jeebs told us?"
"Right. This Kwylor guy went an' got hisself a new face." Jay sighed. "I guess what I don't understand is why you're so sure we're gonna find 'im here."
"Because. He's Orlibian." Kay paused, looking up to the heavy-duty digital camera at the license station. "Orlibians are particularly sensitive to that."
"The flash?"
"Mmhm. Somethin' about that particular wavelength of light for that duration of time mimics the solar flares of their star system. Releases a burst of pheremones. This is the sixth time Kwylor's skipped like this, this month. Ar got sick'a dealin' with it, asked Zed to turf it to someone else."
"Wait. Phere-- Kay. Don' be tellin' me that the flash on that thing makes this guy..."
Kay went back to his hotsheet, his only outward reaction the slightest quirk of his eyebrows. "Don't make me spell it out for you, Slick."
"Riiiiight, whatever. While you stand here waitin' in line for somethin' that ain't even half as good as Space Mountain? I'm'a go get myself a coffee. You wanna coffee?"
"Nope, m'good. Knock yourself out." As Jay headed out of the office into the rest of the shopping complex they'd housed it in, Kay took stock of his situation. A DMV in the middle of a mall ... sure, it was convenient, but for an MiB, it was a disaster waiting to happen. If Kwylor felt cornered, got flighty, he could slip out and disappear into the shopping crowds as easy as anything - and then you had to get lockdowns put up, and containment crews involved. At least the coffee kiosk wasn't far, and Jay could run some kind of damage control, if it came right down to it. As another group of people joined the queue behind him, Kay tucked the hotsheet back under his arm and checked the spectral analyzer at his hip. A second later, the flash went off at the head of the line, and all hell broke loose.
No sooner had one of the lines on the analyzer spiked than not one, but three of the people jumped forward toward the reception desk - all of them male, and judging by their expressions, all of them Orlibian. It only took each of them a moment to realize that they weren't alone - and that obviously, this was unacceptable. They lunged for each other, disrupting the line: one of them shoved a little old lady out of the way and sent her crashing into a water cooler, which fell over, the blue plastic jug burbling out onto the floor amid shouts of confusion and surprise. Kay pulled his J2 pistol, powered off the safety, and scrambled through the crowd, to where the three Orlibians were already tearing at each other, claws split through their human disguises, antennae springing up through their hair, teeth bared and hissing furiously.
"AWRIGHT, BREAK IT UP," Kay barked, grabbing one of them by the collar of his Pink Floyd t-shirt and hauling him off the others. Everyone else in the DMV turned and regarded the scene with mild interest, and the Statie behind the counter came out from the test room, a hand on the holster at his hip. "S'arright, officer, I got this under control." He nodded to the trooper. "INS, Division 6. Got a couple aliens here, nothing to worry about." He turned up the setting on the J2, and it let out a quiet, high whine. Lowering his voice, Kay put one foot down on the toes of the second Orlibian, hard. He screeched as if Kay had put his foot somewhere else far more unpleasant - because, really, he had. "You wanna keep those toes, ombre, you tell me which one've you is Kwylor."
Shaking, the two Orlibians pointed at the third, who was attempting to sneak out the door. Kay fired off a warning shot that missed his foot by a hair and instead disintegrated the fallen water bottle to goo. "You two ... license and registration."
They handed over their shimmering, holograph-embedded Resident Alien cards. Kay gave them the once-over, then handed them back. "Arright, you're fine. Just ... stake out separate DMVs or work out a schedule or somethin'. This isn't Times Square, you know. I have to pull you apart again, I will make you need smaller shoes. As for YOU--"
"Alright, alright," Kwylor yelped, putting up his hands, his claws receding back into his fingers as his antennae tucked themselves back under his hair like repentant morning glories. "I'll come with you."
"Good boy." He flashed him a brief smile, already reaching for his Ray-Bans. "Now, everyone else! If I could have your attention, please..."
"Aw, hell!" Jay whined, stepping over the remains of the water cooler, coffee in hand. "What'd I, miss it?"
"Go ahead an' do the honors, Slick." Kay tossed him the neuralyzer. The kid was better at it than him, anyway - he still had the knack for putting little human touches on the new memories. And he hated to see him feel left out. After all the times Jay had had his back, Kay felt it was only fair to give him the closing graces, once in a while. Even so, after it was all over and done, and they were stuffing Kwylor into the backseat of the LTD, he couldn't help himself:
"See, this is why you stay in line, kid. 'Round here? Everything is Space Mountain."
The line at the Lower Manhattan branch of the DMV was just what Kay had expected it to be: abysmally long. Rummaging around in his suit pocket, he found what he was looking for: a slim, silver device that could pass as an iPod to the casual observer. Clipping it to the rim of his pocket, Kay took the hotsheet he'd tucked under his arm, re-folded it for a more convenient reading-in-line configuration, and began skimming the second page.
"Damn, man," his partner griped, rubbing at the back of his neck. "How come we gotta spend what's lookin' like half our damn morning in line? Can't we just go up an' nab this skimmer?"
"Nope," Kay drawled, glancing up over his tabloid. "Remember what Jeebs told us?"
"Right. This Kwylor guy went an' got hisself a new face." Jay sighed. "I guess what I don't understand is why you're so sure we're gonna find 'im here."
"Because. He's Orlibian." Kay paused, looking up to the heavy-duty digital camera at the license station. "Orlibians are particularly sensitive to that."
"The flash?"
"Mmhm. Somethin' about that particular wavelength of light for that duration of time mimics the solar flares of their star system. Releases a burst of pheremones. This is the sixth time Kwylor's skipped like this, this month. Ar got sick'a dealin' with it, asked Zed to turf it to someone else."
"Wait. Phere-- Kay. Don' be tellin' me that the flash on that thing makes this guy..."
Kay went back to his hotsheet, his only outward reaction the slightest quirk of his eyebrows. "Don't make me spell it out for you, Slick."
"Riiiiight, whatever. While you stand here waitin' in line for somethin' that ain't even half as good as Space Mountain? I'm'a go get myself a coffee. You wanna coffee?"
"Nope, m'good. Knock yourself out." As Jay headed out of the office into the rest of the shopping complex they'd housed it in, Kay took stock of his situation. A DMV in the middle of a mall ... sure, it was convenient, but for an MiB, it was a disaster waiting to happen. If Kwylor felt cornered, got flighty, he could slip out and disappear into the shopping crowds as easy as anything - and then you had to get lockdowns put up, and containment crews involved. At least the coffee kiosk wasn't far, and Jay could run some kind of damage control, if it came right down to it. As another group of people joined the queue behind him, Kay tucked the hotsheet back under his arm and checked the spectral analyzer at his hip. A second later, the flash went off at the head of the line, and all hell broke loose.
No sooner had one of the lines on the analyzer spiked than not one, but three of the people jumped forward toward the reception desk - all of them male, and judging by their expressions, all of them Orlibian. It only took each of them a moment to realize that they weren't alone - and that obviously, this was unacceptable. They lunged for each other, disrupting the line: one of them shoved a little old lady out of the way and sent her crashing into a water cooler, which fell over, the blue plastic jug burbling out onto the floor amid shouts of confusion and surprise. Kay pulled his J2 pistol, powered off the safety, and scrambled through the crowd, to where the three Orlibians were already tearing at each other, claws split through their human disguises, antennae springing up through their hair, teeth bared and hissing furiously.
"AWRIGHT, BREAK IT UP," Kay barked, grabbing one of them by the collar of his Pink Floyd t-shirt and hauling him off the others. Everyone else in the DMV turned and regarded the scene with mild interest, and the Statie behind the counter came out from the test room, a hand on the holster at his hip. "S'arright, officer, I got this under control." He nodded to the trooper. "INS, Division 6. Got a couple aliens here, nothing to worry about." He turned up the setting on the J2, and it let out a quiet, high whine. Lowering his voice, Kay put one foot down on the toes of the second Orlibian, hard. He screeched as if Kay had put his foot somewhere else far more unpleasant - because, really, he had. "You wanna keep those toes, ombre, you tell me which one've you is Kwylor."
Shaking, the two Orlibians pointed at the third, who was attempting to sneak out the door. Kay fired off a warning shot that missed his foot by a hair and instead disintegrated the fallen water bottle to goo. "You two ... license and registration."
They handed over their shimmering, holograph-embedded Resident Alien cards. Kay gave them the once-over, then handed them back. "Arright, you're fine. Just ... stake out separate DMVs or work out a schedule or somethin'. This isn't Times Square, you know. I have to pull you apart again, I will make you need smaller shoes. As for YOU--"
"Alright, alright," Kwylor yelped, putting up his hands, his claws receding back into his fingers as his antennae tucked themselves back under his hair like repentant morning glories. "I'll come with you."
"Good boy." He flashed him a brief smile, already reaching for his Ray-Bans. "Now, everyone else! If I could have your attention, please..."
"Aw, hell!" Jay whined, stepping over the remains of the water cooler, coffee in hand. "What'd I, miss it?"
"Go ahead an' do the honors, Slick." Kay tossed him the neuralyzer. The kid was better at it than him, anyway - he still had the knack for putting little human touches on the new memories. And he hated to see him feel left out. After all the times Jay had had his back, Kay felt it was only fair to give him the closing graces, once in a while. Even so, after it was all over and done, and they were stuffing Kwylor into the backseat of the LTD, he couldn't help himself:
"See, this is why you stay in line, kid. 'Round here? Everything is Space Mountain."