Harvest Moon, P.I.
Moderator: ArcWolf
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Amazee Dayzee
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Re: Harvest Moon, P.I.
Bit disappointed he didn't get a face full of toilet water but it is still a good chapter! Awesome work!
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Welsh Halfwit
- Posts: 14139
- Joined: Sun Mar 17, 2013 3:09 am
- Location: Wales, a luverrly land with noisy neighbours.
Re: Harvest Moon, P.I.
Can you spot the comment referring to two characters from the 'Postain' story?
TWENTY-ONE
Personal musings.
So I’m stuck in the car whilst Mister Moon goes and sneaks around the enemy base. I should be with him but I’m needed here. I think. He needed someone to hold the phone out for the guy we captured to call his brother and tell him to prepare for an attack from the front so Mr Moon can take them by surprise from behind. Is it just me that considers this plan a bit silly? Should I ask this guy next to me? He’s the only one here who isn’t me but I’m not sure I can trust his opinion. I’ve learned a few things over the last day or so. I’ve learned that Private Detectives can play things a little looser when it comes to the restrictions of the law. I mean, I understand why he tolerates the Professor at the University but, if I was being official, I wouldn’t be allowed to tolerate it. I’ve learned that, when you don’t have back up, you can make mistakes by doing the right thing, as Mr. Moon did when he had to involve Harriet Thurso. It was kinda a ‘need it done NOW and she’s the only one who can do it’ kind of situation but here because of what she did afterwards, which kind of makes it our fault. Not that I’m saying that to anyone. I wouldn’t dare. I sent a text to Javey, telling her where we were and what we’re doing. She sends one back stating she’s getting together her assault team and will be with us soon.
He’s trying to chat me up. He doesn’t have much of a chance, despite the fact he has the patent handsomeness of the Celicans. Hang on, he’s a drug dealing, people kidnapping, flunky for a ‘master criminal’. He’s supposed to have less chance than a Canine tracking a scent through a sewer zone, not ‘doesn’t have much’. I can do better than a criminal. Those relationships never work well for IOC members – well, except that one I heard about on the Rodomont where they’re getting hitched – they sent the forms to the local office for approval and muggins ‘ere sent it through. Hang on, isn’t she in Project: Reclaim? So he might have some… NO! I don’t know if I can even get him IN that yet! I could look it up and… how long has it been? What, only three minutes? Wow.
I hope he doesn’t need my help or anything. I can barely even see the entrance from here. Chummy’s looking at me like he’s expecting me to say something. I flick my head and say ‘hmm’ to indicate that I wasn’t paying attention but am now. “I was asking what you figured my chances were of getting on the program,” he asked. They always want to make deals when caught. Meh. Suppose it’s the desire to stay out of the prison system.
“I can’t tell,” I reply honestly, “although we’ll do what we can to get you in it. Me and Mr. Moon. Provided of course we survive the next twenty minutes and aren’t wasting our time here, yeah?”
“We’re… you’re not, I promise,” he blurts. I’ve rarely seen a Celican like this before. He smells slightly desperate and dangerous. I’m kinda thankful Mr Moon took the keys for the car and the cuffs as he knows he can’t escape. It’s time for him to make the call so I get him to tell me the number to call and I let him speak. He talks to Simeon – and he expects me to believe that’s a Celican name – and tells him of what’s going on. He’s either just helped or signed Mr Moon’s death warrant and I don’t know which. It sounds like he’s pleading with ‘Simeon’ to tell the boss about the upcoming attack and then find and help Mr Moon. I can’t tell if he’s giving T.M.I. but he ends the call and turns to me… and calls out as someone appears at the window. I twist around, bringing my gun to bear…
...And I’m thankful I don’t fire as the guy outside finds out it’s reflective glass when he shoots it and the bolt takes himself full in the face. I must admit I freeze a moment at the sight but I come back to my senses and look at the prisoner. “He must not have known about this car,” the Celican says before holding his hands up. “Can I have a gun?”
“No,” I said, “you cannot have a…” I pause and he smirks as my brain makes the connections. His hands were cuffed to the wheel. He’s still wearing the cuffs and they’re not attached to the wheel. He sees my looking at him in confusion and laughs. “How did you..?”
“I know this car’s tricks,” he tells me. “Even more than the little Detective. I’m not trying to escape,” he continued. He pushed down with his thumbs on the main horn at ten and two and two small sections of the outer wheel open up. For my own feeling of safety, I slot the nearest one back in. “Spoilsport,” he tells me. “Just showing you how it can be done.”
“Didn’t need to know,” I told him. I’d have attached them a different way but I don’t have the key. “Don’t do that again.”
“Can I do it if I need to run away?”
“Don’t you think this is the best protection in the area?”
He has to admit that it probably is. Although, as he states, the best protected place is probably about five miles down the road in a shopping mall where no-one’s expecting us to be. Why does everyone think I want to go shopping? Did I look at every shop as we passed by or something? I’m wondering if I should ask Mr Chatty here as he…
Oh, wow. She means business. Harriet Thurso, I mean. I get the slight hint based upon the small scale troop carrier that’s coming in low, under the Radar and starting to land in the parking lot. They rudely take up about sixteen spaces but I don’t think they care much. It’s offloading troops. One of them’s coming our way. She takes her helmet off. Guess who? She opens the back door and slides into the car. Why didn’t Mr. Moon lock it?
“I take it this is the one my people let you take from the manor,” she says accusingly.
“Yes,” I reply, “and you can’t kill him.”
“Of course I can,” Harriet Thurso says calmly. “But I’m choosing not to.” She nodded towards the warehouse. “I take it the Nit-Wit’s in there?” I have to nod. I doubt there’s too much point in lying. She sighs quite rhetorically. “Why?”
“He’s hoping to save lives,” the Celican says, earning himself a glare.
“You do NOT speak,” she commands him and I marvel at how effortlessly she’s gotten him to clam up. “My letting you live is dependant on your not annoying me. Any of your crew who annoy me are going to fall extremely dead in short order. Harmony, you talk.”
Uh. I stammer slightly and confess that he’s teling the truth. I don’t tell her that we warned the criminals but I do confess that Harvest went in to stun as many of them as he could. Miss Thurso is NOT amused.
“Well, we’ll just have to go in and rescue him, won’t we?” She makes an order over her comm and the doors blow off the warehouse.
TWENTY-ONE
Personal musings.
So I’m stuck in the car whilst Mister Moon goes and sneaks around the enemy base. I should be with him but I’m needed here. I think. He needed someone to hold the phone out for the guy we captured to call his brother and tell him to prepare for an attack from the front so Mr Moon can take them by surprise from behind. Is it just me that considers this plan a bit silly? Should I ask this guy next to me? He’s the only one here who isn’t me but I’m not sure I can trust his opinion. I’ve learned a few things over the last day or so. I’ve learned that Private Detectives can play things a little looser when it comes to the restrictions of the law. I mean, I understand why he tolerates the Professor at the University but, if I was being official, I wouldn’t be allowed to tolerate it. I’ve learned that, when you don’t have back up, you can make mistakes by doing the right thing, as Mr. Moon did when he had to involve Harriet Thurso. It was kinda a ‘need it done NOW and she’s the only one who can do it’ kind of situation but here because of what she did afterwards, which kind of makes it our fault. Not that I’m saying that to anyone. I wouldn’t dare. I sent a text to Javey, telling her where we were and what we’re doing. She sends one back stating she’s getting together her assault team and will be with us soon.
He’s trying to chat me up. He doesn’t have much of a chance, despite the fact he has the patent handsomeness of the Celicans. Hang on, he’s a drug dealing, people kidnapping, flunky for a ‘master criminal’. He’s supposed to have less chance than a Canine tracking a scent through a sewer zone, not ‘doesn’t have much’. I can do better than a criminal. Those relationships never work well for IOC members – well, except that one I heard about on the Rodomont where they’re getting hitched – they sent the forms to the local office for approval and muggins ‘ere sent it through. Hang on, isn’t she in Project: Reclaim? So he might have some… NO! I don’t know if I can even get him IN that yet! I could look it up and… how long has it been? What, only three minutes? Wow.
I hope he doesn’t need my help or anything. I can barely even see the entrance from here. Chummy’s looking at me like he’s expecting me to say something. I flick my head and say ‘hmm’ to indicate that I wasn’t paying attention but am now. “I was asking what you figured my chances were of getting on the program,” he asked. They always want to make deals when caught. Meh. Suppose it’s the desire to stay out of the prison system.
“I can’t tell,” I reply honestly, “although we’ll do what we can to get you in it. Me and Mr. Moon. Provided of course we survive the next twenty minutes and aren’t wasting our time here, yeah?”
“We’re… you’re not, I promise,” he blurts. I’ve rarely seen a Celican like this before. He smells slightly desperate and dangerous. I’m kinda thankful Mr Moon took the keys for the car and the cuffs as he knows he can’t escape. It’s time for him to make the call so I get him to tell me the number to call and I let him speak. He talks to Simeon – and he expects me to believe that’s a Celican name – and tells him of what’s going on. He’s either just helped or signed Mr Moon’s death warrant and I don’t know which. It sounds like he’s pleading with ‘Simeon’ to tell the boss about the upcoming attack and then find and help Mr Moon. I can’t tell if he’s giving T.M.I. but he ends the call and turns to me… and calls out as someone appears at the window. I twist around, bringing my gun to bear…
...And I’m thankful I don’t fire as the guy outside finds out it’s reflective glass when he shoots it and the bolt takes himself full in the face. I must admit I freeze a moment at the sight but I come back to my senses and look at the prisoner. “He must not have known about this car,” the Celican says before holding his hands up. “Can I have a gun?”
“No,” I said, “you cannot have a…” I pause and he smirks as my brain makes the connections. His hands were cuffed to the wheel. He’s still wearing the cuffs and they’re not attached to the wheel. He sees my looking at him in confusion and laughs. “How did you..?”
“I know this car’s tricks,” he tells me. “Even more than the little Detective. I’m not trying to escape,” he continued. He pushed down with his thumbs on the main horn at ten and two and two small sections of the outer wheel open up. For my own feeling of safety, I slot the nearest one back in. “Spoilsport,” he tells me. “Just showing you how it can be done.”
“Didn’t need to know,” I told him. I’d have attached them a different way but I don’t have the key. “Don’t do that again.”
“Can I do it if I need to run away?”
“Don’t you think this is the best protection in the area?”
He has to admit that it probably is. Although, as he states, the best protected place is probably about five miles down the road in a shopping mall where no-one’s expecting us to be. Why does everyone think I want to go shopping? Did I look at every shop as we passed by or something? I’m wondering if I should ask Mr Chatty here as he…
Oh, wow. She means business. Harriet Thurso, I mean. I get the slight hint based upon the small scale troop carrier that’s coming in low, under the Radar and starting to land in the parking lot. They rudely take up about sixteen spaces but I don’t think they care much. It’s offloading troops. One of them’s coming our way. She takes her helmet off. Guess who? She opens the back door and slides into the car. Why didn’t Mr. Moon lock it?
“I take it this is the one my people let you take from the manor,” she says accusingly.
“Yes,” I reply, “and you can’t kill him.”
“Of course I can,” Harriet Thurso says calmly. “But I’m choosing not to.” She nodded towards the warehouse. “I take it the Nit-Wit’s in there?” I have to nod. I doubt there’s too much point in lying. She sighs quite rhetorically. “Why?”
“He’s hoping to save lives,” the Celican says, earning himself a glare.
“You do NOT speak,” she commands him and I marvel at how effortlessly she’s gotten him to clam up. “My letting you live is dependant on your not annoying me. Any of your crew who annoy me are going to fall extremely dead in short order. Harmony, you talk.”
Uh. I stammer slightly and confess that he’s teling the truth. I don’t tell her that we warned the criminals but I do confess that Harvest went in to stun as many of them as he could. Miss Thurso is NOT amused.
“Well, we’ll just have to go in and rescue him, won’t we?” She makes an order over her comm and the doors blow off the warehouse.
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Welsh Halfwit
- Posts: 14139
- Joined: Sun Mar 17, 2013 3:09 am
- Location: Wales, a luverrly land with noisy neighbours.
Re: Harvest Moon, P.I.
TWENTY TWO
There’s a linked cliché in action films that I kind of hate. At the end of the action there’s always a boss battle. The tired hero faces off against the last guy, a tigron sized bruiser that he’s been fighting to get to. An opponent who outmatches him, either physically or mentally, if not both, and he’s been hiding behind his henchmen for protection – or something. But don’t worry. I mean, the hero has their sidekick. Someone to talk to and exposit plot and dialogue with. Except, of course, he doesn’t have the sidekick as, after spending an entire film dodging bullets and spears, the sidekick has managed to get themselves a flesh wound that, even though they walked off similar earlier in the flick, now has them down for just long enough to miss the fight. That’s the double-barrelled cliché. Which doesn’t suit me as, even when I’m the hero, I’m more like the sidekick. So subverting it in double fashion is something I’d like to take credit for. We got the boss straight off and, by we, I mean his sidekick switched sides.
The front door has taken a knocking from one of Harriet’s favourite keys and there’s energy bolts going everywhere in the entryway. We’re staying well away from that nonsense, of course.; down the side passage and we’re taking aim. According to my reluctant associate, there’s only four of them… well three now as one takes on the aspect of worm riddled wood… and we fire with an annoying amount of synchronicity at the two the young Celican – Dakrin’s his name, apparently (but he’s probably lying about that) – likes the most. Because we’re kind of sure what’ll happen next. And it does. The Canine in the gang, suddenly aware he’s being fired at from two sides, turns to see who’s shooting at him and provides a sharpshooter with an accurate shot that she takes. The result of that will stay on the memory for a while and on the wall a lot longer than that. “Harvest Moon,” I call, throwing out my gun, “and associate! Don’t shoot!” I nod to Dakrin and he frowns at me. I indicate his gun and simulate throwing it out and putting his hands up. He does so with some vigour. Enough vigour, indeed, that a Mican trooper catches it full on the helmet and I have to shout that it’s O.K. and it’s fine to stop him being promptly executed.
Especially hen I realise he’s thrown it in the face of Harriet Thurso. She’s looking at him like she’s ready to kill him on the spot. “Taken on an apprentice, Mr Moon,” she questions darkly.
“Temporarily,” I admit.
“It’s now permanent,” she spits, fixing him with a stare that could paralyse a snake. “I want this where I can find it and kill it if I need to.” She watched him wilt. “Now,” she added, “take me to the prisoners before I have you ‘fired’.”
When I grow up, I want to be her.
Seven captives are here when we started but only six remain when Javey gets here. We hand the gang over to her – with one exception. I know Thurso enough to believe one thing. If I don’t take this reprobate on as an ‘apprentice’, she WILL kill him. It’s her way. I WILL have to have him tagged, though. Mostly so I can give him a painful shock if he ever tries to kill me. I’m trusting but I’m not a complete marshmallow about reality. “What do you pay me,” he asks.
“You’re on work experience,” I respond. “You get a percentage of what I get when I get anything.” I prod his chest. “I hope you saved some of their money.”
He’s quiet in the car back to the city. It’s probably Agent Whitestar keeping a weapon trained on him until we get to the Council base where she takes him off to be tagged whilst I go to see Harmony Grigger. I want to see how she’s doing, talk with her and make a gift of an itemised bill. I call to Agent Whitestar to remind her I want the ankle tag, not the neck one. She calls back with a ‘yeah, yeah’ and takes him away. She’s probably right.
Grigger’s wearing a dress that probably costs what a Police Officer of rank makes in a month. She’s even managed to get a manicure on a military base and, despite the damage still showing on her face and frame, she’s quite happily playing with Cally in the waiting room. She gets up when she sees me and gives me the sort of kiss that makes me knock 10% from the bill. Excuse me, Mr Moon, but put your hands down! That’s totally sending the wrong impression. Stop kissing her back! She’s not a M… oh, the heck with it. If your body’s going to betray you, brain, you might as well let it. Someone must have told her I’d sorted the case. She eventually lets me up for air when Ms. Hav giggles loudly enough to remind Harmony that she’s here. She parts And I notice my hat’s gone askew. She still has me in her arms and, finally, lets go. “I understand you got the gang,” she says.
“News travels fast,” I reply. It’s just about the only thing my brain can think of to say for a few seconds. “You’re safe now,” I assure her. I explain to her what the idea was and she nods along with the plot, even when I detail why she’d been involved. Then I realise that Cally is also nodding along, listening to every word and putting on the face of innocence that would con anyone who wasn’t a hard bitten Marshmallow.
For innocent ears sake I slip past the details of the final morning and just concentrate on the rescued captives who are, even now, being seen to at Sheriff Javey’s office. Harmony apologises for her silliness in making that order and I assure her that it helped me solve the case. (sure, Agent Whitestar helped too but she’s going to claim a good part of the credit in her report so I’m doing the same. No I’m not trying to ‘big myself up’ in Miss Grigger’s eyes!) I tell her she’s to be commended. She asks if that gets her money off the bill. Sigh. I do have to get to that part. She tells me that she’s booked on a flight tomorrow and are there any good nightclubs here?
The other Harmony arrives at that precise time and says that sounds good and asks if she can speak to me outside. “Um,” she says, “I went to fill in Dakrin’s details and…” She hesitated. “Apparently he’s in the system and lives in the flat directly below you.”
I start. That flat’s been vacant for months. My comm vibrates with a message. Hmm. Apparently I have a new rent agreement. And, I think coldly, probably a new landlady. I don’t wonder who that could be. I really don’t. Hmmm. On a preliminary look, my rent’s gone down. I hope my old Landlady didn’t put up too much of a fight. For her sake. So I’m living in a Spy’s building. Wonderful. Still can’t afford to move out, though. Perhaps the blood will be cleaned up now? He has the sense to look frightened of the fact. He should be. Thurso’s hit list is not a place to be and you’re generally not on it long. He scritches his ankle as our agent hands me a ‘watch’ that links to my bio-rhythm. Unless I press a button sequence, he can’t go more than 300ft from me at any point. Who’s imprisoned here? Me or him?
We’ll have to head home to pick up the keys for his place. I’m taking a set for myself. Then, after checking the other car is still there – and not booby-trapped, it’s back to here and pick up Harmony for an evening out at a club.
So, I got paid, I got an apprentice – who’s asking for his share of my cash – and I have a night out with two ladies of the same name. It’s a hard life, isn’t it?
END
There’s a linked cliché in action films that I kind of hate. At the end of the action there’s always a boss battle. The tired hero faces off against the last guy, a tigron sized bruiser that he’s been fighting to get to. An opponent who outmatches him, either physically or mentally, if not both, and he’s been hiding behind his henchmen for protection – or something. But don’t worry. I mean, the hero has their sidekick. Someone to talk to and exposit plot and dialogue with. Except, of course, he doesn’t have the sidekick as, after spending an entire film dodging bullets and spears, the sidekick has managed to get themselves a flesh wound that, even though they walked off similar earlier in the flick, now has them down for just long enough to miss the fight. That’s the double-barrelled cliché. Which doesn’t suit me as, even when I’m the hero, I’m more like the sidekick. So subverting it in double fashion is something I’d like to take credit for. We got the boss straight off and, by we, I mean his sidekick switched sides.
The front door has taken a knocking from one of Harriet’s favourite keys and there’s energy bolts going everywhere in the entryway. We’re staying well away from that nonsense, of course.; down the side passage and we’re taking aim. According to my reluctant associate, there’s only four of them… well three now as one takes on the aspect of worm riddled wood… and we fire with an annoying amount of synchronicity at the two the young Celican – Dakrin’s his name, apparently (but he’s probably lying about that) – likes the most. Because we’re kind of sure what’ll happen next. And it does. The Canine in the gang, suddenly aware he’s being fired at from two sides, turns to see who’s shooting at him and provides a sharpshooter with an accurate shot that she takes. The result of that will stay on the memory for a while and on the wall a lot longer than that. “Harvest Moon,” I call, throwing out my gun, “and associate! Don’t shoot!” I nod to Dakrin and he frowns at me. I indicate his gun and simulate throwing it out and putting his hands up. He does so with some vigour. Enough vigour, indeed, that a Mican trooper catches it full on the helmet and I have to shout that it’s O.K. and it’s fine to stop him being promptly executed.
Especially hen I realise he’s thrown it in the face of Harriet Thurso. She’s looking at him like she’s ready to kill him on the spot. “Taken on an apprentice, Mr Moon,” she questions darkly.
“Temporarily,” I admit.
“It’s now permanent,” she spits, fixing him with a stare that could paralyse a snake. “I want this where I can find it and kill it if I need to.” She watched him wilt. “Now,” she added, “take me to the prisoners before I have you ‘fired’.”
When I grow up, I want to be her.
Seven captives are here when we started but only six remain when Javey gets here. We hand the gang over to her – with one exception. I know Thurso enough to believe one thing. If I don’t take this reprobate on as an ‘apprentice’, she WILL kill him. It’s her way. I WILL have to have him tagged, though. Mostly so I can give him a painful shock if he ever tries to kill me. I’m trusting but I’m not a complete marshmallow about reality. “What do you pay me,” he asks.
“You’re on work experience,” I respond. “You get a percentage of what I get when I get anything.” I prod his chest. “I hope you saved some of their money.”
He’s quiet in the car back to the city. It’s probably Agent Whitestar keeping a weapon trained on him until we get to the Council base where she takes him off to be tagged whilst I go to see Harmony Grigger. I want to see how she’s doing, talk with her and make a gift of an itemised bill. I call to Agent Whitestar to remind her I want the ankle tag, not the neck one. She calls back with a ‘yeah, yeah’ and takes him away. She’s probably right.
Grigger’s wearing a dress that probably costs what a Police Officer of rank makes in a month. She’s even managed to get a manicure on a military base and, despite the damage still showing on her face and frame, she’s quite happily playing with Cally in the waiting room. She gets up when she sees me and gives me the sort of kiss that makes me knock 10% from the bill. Excuse me, Mr Moon, but put your hands down! That’s totally sending the wrong impression. Stop kissing her back! She’s not a M… oh, the heck with it. If your body’s going to betray you, brain, you might as well let it. Someone must have told her I’d sorted the case. She eventually lets me up for air when Ms. Hav giggles loudly enough to remind Harmony that she’s here. She parts And I notice my hat’s gone askew. She still has me in her arms and, finally, lets go. “I understand you got the gang,” she says.
“News travels fast,” I reply. It’s just about the only thing my brain can think of to say for a few seconds. “You’re safe now,” I assure her. I explain to her what the idea was and she nods along with the plot, even when I detail why she’d been involved. Then I realise that Cally is also nodding along, listening to every word and putting on the face of innocence that would con anyone who wasn’t a hard bitten Marshmallow.
For innocent ears sake I slip past the details of the final morning and just concentrate on the rescued captives who are, even now, being seen to at Sheriff Javey’s office. Harmony apologises for her silliness in making that order and I assure her that it helped me solve the case. (sure, Agent Whitestar helped too but she’s going to claim a good part of the credit in her report so I’m doing the same. No I’m not trying to ‘big myself up’ in Miss Grigger’s eyes!) I tell her she’s to be commended. She asks if that gets her money off the bill. Sigh. I do have to get to that part. She tells me that she’s booked on a flight tomorrow and are there any good nightclubs here?
The other Harmony arrives at that precise time and says that sounds good and asks if she can speak to me outside. “Um,” she says, “I went to fill in Dakrin’s details and…” She hesitated. “Apparently he’s in the system and lives in the flat directly below you.”
I start. That flat’s been vacant for months. My comm vibrates with a message. Hmm. Apparently I have a new rent agreement. And, I think coldly, probably a new landlady. I don’t wonder who that could be. I really don’t. Hmmm. On a preliminary look, my rent’s gone down. I hope my old Landlady didn’t put up too much of a fight. For her sake. So I’m living in a Spy’s building. Wonderful. Still can’t afford to move out, though. Perhaps the blood will be cleaned up now? He has the sense to look frightened of the fact. He should be. Thurso’s hit list is not a place to be and you’re generally not on it long. He scritches his ankle as our agent hands me a ‘watch’ that links to my bio-rhythm. Unless I press a button sequence, he can’t go more than 300ft from me at any point. Who’s imprisoned here? Me or him?
We’ll have to head home to pick up the keys for his place. I’m taking a set for myself. Then, after checking the other car is still there – and not booby-trapped, it’s back to here and pick up Harmony for an evening out at a club.
So, I got paid, I got an apprentice – who’s asking for his share of my cash – and I have a night out with two ladies of the same name. It’s a hard life, isn’t it?
END
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Welsh Halfwit
- Posts: 14139
- Joined: Sun Mar 17, 2013 3:09 am
- Location: Wales, a luverrly land with noisy neighbours.
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Amazee Dayzee
- Posts: 25959
- Joined: Tue Aug 12, 2014 6:24 pm
Re: Harvest Moon, P.I.
I really did enjoy this one so I hope I will enjoy tghe next one just as much!