[Warning: Tri's powers weren't something I've originally planned, but don't worry, I'll make it fit in. Also, again, I speak Norwegian in Bing/Google translate so blame any mistakes on them.]
[Music above is The Game Is On by David Arnold. It's the main theme song for 2010's BBC adaptation of Sherlock Holmes which I have recently finished. It's gorgeous. I love it.]
(Alan's POV)
Even for my eyes, Tri had rarely done something like that.
Of course, I knew he had extraordinary deduction powers—he had used some of them on my previous missions, and (hey, don't tell anyone else!) they were some of the main reasons of my quick success and promotion.
This time however, there's something different, I thought as I leaned back in my chair and watched him rattle off his conclusions. He didn't reveal any logic process, which was a first. Also, his reading speed when he scrolled that list...his slight incredulity when Chris asked a question...his frustrated hand-gestures when I asked him why...his small smile when Joel expressed his surprise...
A flash of realization hit me and I almost laughed out loud.
The man was showing off.
Hey, and not for just anyone.
For Joel.
Why?
I could not imagine any reason, but it wasn't my primary concern right now, so I filed it away in a mental note to pore over later.
We stood up around the conference table, exchanged brisk nods and solemn glances. A few whispered good lucks were heard, and then Chris sprang over to the door, me close on his heels.
[TIME SKIP TO NEAR ARRIVAL]
(A/N: yeah, really wanna focus on the mission this time.)
We played Marshmello music all the way to the destination, maybe just because I wanted to piss Chris off. Hey, friendly partner banter is the greatest fucking thing to do before a mission. Helps with morals and shit. —Whatever the reason was, I fucking loved the scowl on his face when I started howling along to the lines of his hit Wolves.
"Bloody hell," he muttered, turning his face away from me and sulkily tapping away at his white pulled-up screen. I grinned from ear to ear. My plan was working quite well.
Well, sort of.
Right up to the point when he somehow managed to hack my radio system on his chip and put on my album instead. And started humming along to one of my hits.
I had to remind myself not to bloody punch him in the face as he laughed loudly at my boggling expression when I tried to change the music and failed.
The fucker.
I'm going to beat the shit out of him when we finish.
Soon, though, I had something to distract me—our arrival at Rosewood Rand.
Rosewood Rand really isn't such a magnificent place, thought I as my car swiftly veered into the driveway. It was not a true rand as its name suggested but a small, shabby hotel. Light wires of a range of colors framed the crumbling corners of the building, its dreary milky-white paint peeling off the outer wall in great slabs. Untamed bushes grew raggedly around the outer edges of a little garden, sprinkled with a few obviously tech-bred roses. Maybe gene implantation—that was the trend a few years ago. This definitely wasn't a thriving business if it was out of the fashion like that.
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Assassinated: Mellowalker New Universe
Fanfiction[Marshlan/Marshwalker/Mellowalker fanfic] --This is not a real world. Alan Walker is a young but infamous hired assassin. His name meant death to whoever the clients wanted dead. That's because he liked to act alone...that is, until he was forced to...
