Three Graces - Orange
Jan. 21st, 2012 09:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nothingtoregretRating: PG
Word Count: 260
Summary: Cas heads towards his next target.
When the sun rose over the dunes it seemed to set them on fire. It wouldn’t be long now before the heat became its usual thick and oppressive self and the building was still only a white mark on the glowing horizon, no bigger than his gnawed-down thumbnail.
He’d sworn not to take any further contracts relating to this goddamn war and yet here he was, trudging across sands that slid from under his boots, making his way towards an unmarked security facility and his mark’s certain demise.
If he’d been anyone else he’d have marvelled at the size of the ascendant sun and the way it turned the plain building golden, converting its ugly starkness into beauty that fit its surroundings like a glove. Unfortunately he was only himself and he could only think that if he’d not taken an unscheduled detour he’d have been outside those walls right now, shielded from the glare. Sunglasses, he thought sourly as he dragged them from a pocket and slid them over his eyes, only did so much. Not enough.
The sun was higher, hotter, when the building - an uninspiring windowless block that strongly reminded Cas of tofu - ceased to be a speck and became a tangible form. The metal walls were blisteringly hot, seething with reflected light, and no doubt intended to be forbidding as possible to passers-by. Not that Cas could imagine these hypothetical passers-by happened very often in this godforsaken patch of golden wasteland.
Getting in was obviously intended to be a challenge. Good. Cas liked challenges.
Word Count: 260
Summary: Cas heads towards his next target.
When the sun rose over the dunes it seemed to set them on fire. It wouldn’t be long now before the heat became its usual thick and oppressive self and the building was still only a white mark on the glowing horizon, no bigger than his gnawed-down thumbnail.
He’d sworn not to take any further contracts relating to this goddamn war and yet here he was, trudging across sands that slid from under his boots, making his way towards an unmarked security facility and his mark’s certain demise.
If he’d been anyone else he’d have marvelled at the size of the ascendant sun and the way it turned the plain building golden, converting its ugly starkness into beauty that fit its surroundings like a glove. Unfortunately he was only himself and he could only think that if he’d not taken an unscheduled detour he’d have been outside those walls right now, shielded from the glare. Sunglasses, he thought sourly as he dragged them from a pocket and slid them over his eyes, only did so much. Not enough.
The sun was higher, hotter, when the building - an uninspiring windowless block that strongly reminded Cas of tofu - ceased to be a speck and became a tangible form. The metal walls were blisteringly hot, seething with reflected light, and no doubt intended to be forbidding as possible to passers-by. Not that Cas could imagine these hypothetical passers-by happened very often in this godforsaken patch of golden wasteland.
Getting in was obviously intended to be a challenge. Good. Cas liked challenges.
