Wasn't Moonlighting a sitcom from the 80s or 90s? Cybill Shepherd and Bruce Willis? I guess you and Kat could be those two... ;-)
Moonlighting There was an unspoken agreement that we were going to go back to our little base for the moment and just take it easy until night fell. We could, I suppose, have investigated some of the other keys but I partly had a feeling that the Elizabethtown people had had enough time to work out what the best keys were, and partly I was tired: standing watch for several nights in a row wore you down gradually but steadily, and I welcomed the idea of a rest. So we went back, and when Ben and Jimmy looked busy I sat down with the books, leaned up against the wall, and went to sleep. I was woken by Ben kicking my feet. "It's dusk," he said. "You've been asleep for long enough." I half-laughed and stretched, feeling stiff, cold muscles complain gently. "You two didn't get any sleep then? You just let me sleep the day away." "Figured you might need it," said Ben, looking away from me and out through the doorway. Behind him the sky had turned purple overhead and darker at the edges where the mountains cut off the light. Bright pinpricks, stars, were just becoming visible. "I made Jimmy get a few hours after he cooked lunch too. So you're the brains of the operation tonight, Red." "Where is Jimmy?" I looked around, but there was only me and Ben in the room. "On the roof," said Ben. "He's trying to read that book you found, but I think he found it harder going than you did." He turned to the doorway. "Jimmy! Get yourself down here, we've got a romantic trip into town to get under way." I burst into laughter, and struggled to my feet still laughing while Jimmy came down the stairs and into the room looking puzzled. "Romantic?" "Moonlit," I explained, shaking off the chill from the stone walls and floor. "That's romantic for Ben; anything else is either expense or unnecessary." "I give flowers too!" Ben put on his best pained expression. "That you've never once paid for," I said. "It's not romantic when they've still got a message-tag on them that reads In loving memory." "Sometimes we're leaving when I give flowers," said Ben. "It's sort of true then." I had to give him that, but I still didn't think he really won the point. We gathered a few things together: the lantern, filled with oil, Ben cigar's (naturally, but it meant we never forgot matches), some rope that Ben wrapped around his waist, and the astonishingly sharp knife we'd found in the administration building. As an afterthought I grabbed the diary we'd found on the Elizabethtown bodies, but I didn't think it would be much use. The darkness increased as we walked to the circus, and Jimmy kept glancing up at the sky, wondering where the moon was. Finally Ben pointed out that it had to rise enough to be visible over the mountains, and then he seemed to relax.
The door opened easily when we got there, and we descended the iron staircase and then just sat down in the large, marble-floored hall, where we could see the crystal panels in the roof overhead, and waited. Maybe an hour passed before the moon became visible, but it was only when the moon was fully over the panels that there was a soft clicking sound as though a lock mechanism were turning; then we stood up. For a moment I wondered if the doors would open by themselves and hordes of hooting monsters would pour out, but they remained closed until Ben grabbed both handles and pushed firmly, flinging them open. The room beyond was another rectangle with marble tiles around the edges of a large circular pool. White marble steps led down into the pool, and the water was clear and somehow illuminated by the moonlight. I couldn't work out how: there were no crystal panels overhead or windows anywhere I could see, but it seemed clear that part of the effect here was that the pool should be lit up like this. Near to us the marble surround was empty, but around the half-way mark of the room there were all kinds of things: there were gold chairs set around tables of some silvery metal; there were gold candelabras on the tables, some still had candles in them. There were mirrors with gold frames hanging on the walls at regular intervals between the groups of chairs and tables, and curtains of what looked like finest silk draped down here and there to allow for areas to be partitioned off. Towards the end of the room there were two wooden waist-height cabinets of some kind that reminded me a little of the bars you got in small towns. Set atop them were gold goblets and carafes, set out as though for serving drinks. A gold tray lay on the floor where it seemed to have fallen off the cabinet it had been on. Beneath the water in the pool was a mosaic design that I'd ignored until now, being rather enamoured of all the gold so clearly visible, but when I looked at it I caught my breath: it depicted two people who looked quite Mexican to me making an offering of some kind to a woman who appeared to be wearing the moon on her head. This was, without a doubt, another temple of some kind.
[I seem to have got a little carried away with your prompt this time round!]
I never mind you getting carried away with the prompt, as I always enjoy being carried along with the tale you tell. The moon door and the room it guards are both fascinating additions to the story, as is the pool.
3 comments:
Wasn't Moonlighting a sitcom from the 80s or 90s? Cybill Shepherd and Bruce Willis? I guess you and Kat could be those two... ;-)
Moonlighting
There was an unspoken agreement that we were going to go back to our little base for the moment and just take it easy until night fell. We could, I suppose, have investigated some of the other keys but I partly had a feeling that the Elizabethtown people had had enough time to work out what the best keys were, and partly I was tired: standing watch for several nights in a row wore you down gradually but steadily, and I welcomed the idea of a rest. So we went back, and when Ben and Jimmy looked busy I sat down with the books, leaned up against the wall, and went to sleep.
I was woken by Ben kicking my feet. "It's dusk," he said. "You've been asleep for long enough."
I half-laughed and stretched, feeling stiff, cold muscles complain gently. "You two didn't get any sleep then? You just let me sleep the day away."
"Figured you might need it," said Ben, looking away from me and out through the doorway. Behind him the sky had turned purple overhead and darker at the edges where the mountains cut off the light. Bright pinpricks, stars, were just becoming visible. "I made Jimmy get a few hours after he cooked lunch too. So you're the brains of the operation tonight, Red."
"Where is Jimmy?" I looked around, but there was only me and Ben in the room.
"On the roof," said Ben. "He's trying to read that book you found, but I think he found it harder going than you did." He turned to the doorway. "Jimmy! Get yourself down here, we've got a romantic trip into town to get under way."
I burst into laughter, and struggled to my feet still laughing while Jimmy came down the stairs and into the room looking puzzled. "Romantic?"
"Moonlit," I explained, shaking off the chill from the stone walls and floor. "That's romantic for Ben; anything else is either expense or unnecessary."
"I give flowers too!" Ben put on his best pained expression.
"That you've never once paid for," I said. "It's not romantic when they've still got a message-tag on them that reads In loving memory."
"Sometimes we're leaving when I give flowers," said Ben. "It's sort of true then."
I had to give him that, but I still didn't think he really won the point. We gathered a few things together: the lantern, filled with oil, Ben cigar's (naturally, but it meant we never forgot matches), some rope that Ben wrapped around his waist, and the astonishingly sharp knife we'd found in the administration building. As an afterthought I grabbed the diary we'd found on the Elizabethtown bodies, but I didn't think it would be much use.
The darkness increased as we walked to the circus, and Jimmy kept glancing up at the sky, wondering where the moon was. Finally Ben pointed out that it had to rise enough to be visible over the mountains, and then he seemed to relax.
The door opened easily when we got there, and we descended the iron staircase and then just sat down in the large, marble-floored hall, where we could see the crystal panels in the roof overhead, and waited. Maybe an hour passed before the moon became visible, but it was only when the moon was fully over the panels that there was a soft clicking sound as though a lock mechanism were turning; then we stood up. For a moment I wondered if the doors would open by themselves and hordes of hooting monsters would pour out, but they remained closed until Ben grabbed both handles and pushed firmly, flinging them open.
The room beyond was another rectangle with marble tiles around the edges of a large circular pool. White marble steps led down into the pool, and the water was clear and somehow illuminated by the moonlight. I couldn't work out how: there were no crystal panels overhead or windows anywhere I could see, but it seemed clear that part of the effect here was that the pool should be lit up like this. Near to us the marble surround was empty, but around the half-way mark of the room there were all kinds of things: there were gold chairs set around tables of some silvery metal; there were gold candelabras on the tables, some still had candles in them. There were mirrors with gold frames hanging on the walls at regular intervals between the groups of chairs and tables, and curtains of what looked like finest silk draped down here and there to allow for areas to be partitioned off. Towards the end of the room there were two wooden waist-height cabinets of some kind that reminded me a little of the bars you got in small towns. Set atop them were gold goblets and carafes, set out as though for serving drinks. A gold tray lay on the floor where it seemed to have fallen off the cabinet it had been on.
Beneath the water in the pool was a mosaic design that I'd ignored until now, being rather enamoured of all the gold so clearly visible, but when I looked at it I caught my breath: it depicted two people who looked quite Mexican to me making an offering of some kind to a woman who appeared to be wearing the moon on her head. This was, without a doubt, another temple of some kind.
[I seem to have got a little carried away with your prompt this time round!]
Greg - yes. And... no.
I never mind you getting carried away with the prompt, as I always enjoy being carried along with the tale you tell. The moon door and the room it guards are both fascinating additions to the story, as is the pool.
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