The Big Goodbye (Gargoyles) Mace Malone, kneazles
Title: The Big Goodbye
Fandom: Gargoyles
Author: karrenia
Character: Mace Malone
A/N a relative minor character who appeared
in two episodes, "The Silver Falcon", however, the second one escapes
me at the moment, he was Matt Bluestone's old partner when Matt worked for the FBI before becoming Elisa Maza's partner.
Recipient: for kneazles' previously filled 'time' request.
Request Details: http://community.livejournal.com/fic_on_demand/211217.html
"The Big Goodbye" by Karen
To whom it may concern:
"Allow me to tell you of some things that I've been keeping close to the vest for some time now."
'The world is not only stranger than you know it is also a lot stranger."
"Weird is both such an simple yet completely inadequate word to describe what all happened thirty or forty years ago. Times change, people change. Maybe the immortal Bard had it right, the world is a stage, and the people are merely players."
"I never would have believed it myself until I got into the interesting but extremely dangerous and unpredictable world of domestic intrigue.
'And let me tell you this kid from the Midwest got more than he bargained for. Looking back on it now I doubt that given the choice I would have traded it for all the tea in China.'
As Mace thought about what else to write down in the letter he had been procrastinating for weeks now, he suddenly realized that he really could not afford to put it off for much longer.
He had attempted to make contact with his old partner via phone and the occasional coded message; after all, he was old veteran of the game; he knew how it was played and perhaps even more importantly; he knew how to bend the rules just a smidgen in order to keep what he was he really up to hidden from all eyes.
'Well' he amended with a shrug and a signal to the waitress to refill his coffee cup; almost all eyes. He reached up to tug at a pin affixed to the lapel of his wrinkled but still serviceable brown suit. It was a square with one single staring eye in the middle on a gold background.
He glanced around, without giving away that he was doing so, there were a few other patrons in the cafe, in addition to the staff; a trucker off the interstate with a plate of spaghetti in front of him, a man in a suit; some others; no one paying attention to him in the least.
"Maybe I'm getting paranoid in my old age," Mace muttered under his breath.
He was more than a little bit aware of the old saying: old habits die hard.
In a way, his writing this letter with memories of his old partner uppermost
in his mind would be a small gesture; his way of making up for his earlier mistakes.
Several months ago he had been carrying out a set of very specific instructions, and the source of those instructions had been very explicit. In the back of his mind Mace thought, "These are not the kinds of people you say no to, not if you wish to keep all of your limbs intact.'
That had been true centuries ago, and as much as the world had changed since the secret society came into being one thing had not; The Illuminati controlled just about everything, or near to as made no difference.
The waitress came over to his table and refilled his coffee cup, and he looked up to nod his thanks before returning his attention to the sheet of paper resting on the table top.
She then went back to resume her place behind the serving counter.
After she was gone he reached over to take a deep swallow of his coffee.
"He will understand, surely," he muttered aloud. The coffee was good, black, just the way he liked it. The intended recipient had always put sugar and cream in his, diluting the flavor Mace had argued, but to no avail.
His old friend and partner had a stubborn streak and good luck to anyone who attempted to try and get through it. They had made a good team despite the differences in their ages.
Matt, well, he always thought big picture, always had come with the wilder theories and even now entertained more than a few crazy conspiracy theories of his own.
Mace was feeling his age, and he was feeling more than a little bit guilty over recent circumstances, that in a way, this his way of making an apology.
"Matt, old buddy," Mace sighed and picked up the pen. "Goodbye and good luck. If I'm right about what is looming on the horizon, you and your new friends are certainly going to need it."
Fandom: Gargoyles
Author: karrenia
Character: Mace Malone
A/N a relative minor character who appeared
in two episodes, "The Silver Falcon", however, the second one escapes
me at the moment, he was Matt Bluestone's old partner when Matt worked for the FBI before becoming Elisa Maza's partner.
Recipient: for kneazles' previously filled 'time' request.
Request Details: http://community.livejournal.com/fic_on_demand/211217.html
"The Big Goodbye" by Karen
To whom it may concern:
"Allow me to tell you of some things that I've been keeping close to the vest for some time now."
'The world is not only stranger than you know it is also a lot stranger."
"Weird is both such an simple yet completely inadequate word to describe what all happened thirty or forty years ago. Times change, people change. Maybe the immortal Bard had it right, the world is a stage, and the people are merely players."
"I never would have believed it myself until I got into the interesting but extremely dangerous and unpredictable world of domestic intrigue.
'And let me tell you this kid from the Midwest got more than he bargained for. Looking back on it now I doubt that given the choice I would have traded it for all the tea in China.'
As Mace thought about what else to write down in the letter he had been procrastinating for weeks now, he suddenly realized that he really could not afford to put it off for much longer.
He had attempted to make contact with his old partner via phone and the occasional coded message; after all, he was old veteran of the game; he knew how it was played and perhaps even more importantly; he knew how to bend the rules just a smidgen in order to keep what he was he really up to hidden from all eyes.
'Well' he amended with a shrug and a signal to the waitress to refill his coffee cup; almost all eyes. He reached up to tug at a pin affixed to the lapel of his wrinkled but still serviceable brown suit. It was a square with one single staring eye in the middle on a gold background.
He glanced around, without giving away that he was doing so, there were a few other patrons in the cafe, in addition to the staff; a trucker off the interstate with a plate of spaghetti in front of him, a man in a suit; some others; no one paying attention to him in the least.
"Maybe I'm getting paranoid in my old age," Mace muttered under his breath.
He was more than a little bit aware of the old saying: old habits die hard.
In a way, his writing this letter with memories of his old partner uppermost
in his mind would be a small gesture; his way of making up for his earlier mistakes.
Several months ago he had been carrying out a set of very specific instructions, and the source of those instructions had been very explicit. In the back of his mind Mace thought, "These are not the kinds of people you say no to, not if you wish to keep all of your limbs intact.'
That had been true centuries ago, and as much as the world had changed since the secret society came into being one thing had not; The Illuminati controlled just about everything, or near to as made no difference.
The waitress came over to his table and refilled his coffee cup, and he looked up to nod his thanks before returning his attention to the sheet of paper resting on the table top.
She then went back to resume her place behind the serving counter.
After she was gone he reached over to take a deep swallow of his coffee.
"He will understand, surely," he muttered aloud. The coffee was good, black, just the way he liked it. The intended recipient had always put sugar and cream in his, diluting the flavor Mace had argued, but to no avail.
His old friend and partner had a stubborn streak and good luck to anyone who attempted to try and get through it. They had made a good team despite the differences in their ages.
Matt, well, he always thought big picture, always had come with the wilder theories and even now entertained more than a few crazy conspiracy theories of his own.
Mace was feeling his age, and he was feeling more than a little bit guilty over recent circumstances, that in a way, this his way of making an apology.
"Matt, old buddy," Mace sighed and picked up the pen. "Goodbye and good luck. If I'm right about what is looming on the horizon, you and your new friends are certainly going to need it."