IMPOSSIBLY, THERE WASN'T A SINGLE SHADOW CAST ALONG THE BLEACHED WALLS AND TILES OF THE HOTEL BAR KITCHEN. FLUORESCENTS HUMMED, HISSED, AND WHEEZED IN THE CEILING ABOVE - PERSISTENT IN THEIR DUTY TO SCARE OFF RATS AND ROACHES. AND WHERE THERE WAS LIGHT... THERE SHOULD BE A SHADOW OR TWO, NO? A PERFECT HIGH NOON HUNG STUCK IN PLACE INSIDE THE STERILE, LOVELESS, LIFELESS PLACE. HEAT SIMMERED IN THE AIR. THE SPARK AND FLASH OF A GRENADE SUSPENDED, MADE IMMORTAL.
It was becoming uncomfortably warm inside the kitchen, and it was only about to get worse. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of Charlotte's face and she let it trace its line down the curve of her cheek to the point of her chin. The effort she poured into keeping her hands as steady as possible, was matched only with the effort she made to slow her breathing. SURE, THEY WERE RUNNING OUT OF TIME, BUT THAT WAS HARDLY A REASON TO PANIC. Beside her, a wood - burning stove crackled on cheerily, indifferent to the woman's predicament. It'd been fed recently, so what did it have to be worried about? Certainly it did not have any reason to be hissing curse after curse. Not like her, who had a very good reason and now here was another! Fantastic.
@ssuds / PUT YOUR WEAPONS ON THE GROUND, NOW!
" Alright! " Her voice rang out, loud and clear as a fucking dinner bell. Charlotte rose from her haunches and straightened onto her knees, the grooves of where the tiles dipped into a clean line of grout pressing painfully into her kneecaps. She regarded the mess of wires and gears from above. The wires seemed to spell out a message in a language she didn't read, but whatever it did say, she was sure it wasn't a fucking love letter. AND WHAT THE FUCK KIND OF HOTEL KITCHEN DIDN'T HAVE A WALK - IN COOLER? Briefly, Charlotte had considered picking up the bomb and making a run to the nearest elevator and sending it up where she knew the floors had been cleared, but then there was no telling what would happen if she so much as elevated or tilted the device the wrong way. It wasn't one of hers.
FUCKING FICKLE CREATURES, THESE EXPLOSIVES.
With one last quick glance at the now - dying flames inside the stove, she stood,( slowly! ), up from behind the kitchen island and sent her pocket knife skittering across the checkered floor. Without taking her eyes off the device on the ground, Charlotte reached back, pulled out the pistol she had pressed against her back, and tossed it at the soldier's feet. " Look, you --- " Charlotte stopped when she saw the soldier standing across the kitchen; eyes did a quick sweep of the area and of what little she could see past his shoulders into the corridor. A smile played across her lips as she returned her attention to the soldier, solid greys flickering from his head to his boots and back up again. " Oh, it's just you and me now! Where did all your buddies go? "
