Securing Secrets

After completing Detained, I dove headfirst into the next genre selected by my patrons, a drama. Despite being willing to blend most of the genres my characters inhabit with a drama, selecting one is always the trick. I’ve come across a saying that I think has some relevance to this issue: “paralysis by analysis”. The rough meaning of the saying is that as we over analyze any situation, we ultimately lose the ability to make a choice. In fact, we usually let the opportunity pass us by.

Despite having a seed for this story, I needed to figure out which collection of characters I would use to create this drama. However, out of the nine dice, one group was dedicated to Detained, and out of the other six die only three of them sparked any kind of story in me. Though that spark was related to the cast I’d feature, the crew of the Drifter. Yet, I needed to figure out how to weave a temple, like the Parthenon, a howling wolf, and a flute, into a tale featuring the Drifter’s intrepid crew.

Grab a warm drink and find a comfortable position as we witness another moment in the life of this crew.

Having negotiated a job, Charles and Lucille depart the Drifter to meet with their latest client, much to Lucille’s concern…

Securing Secrets

“Unless you woke up a different person this morning, I doubt you agreed to wait indefinitely for this potential client to arrive.” With a sharp breath, Lucille kicked some debris lingering beside her feet. As it skirted across the floor, she locked eyes with her captain. “I’m not comfortable with this, Charles.”

“What do you like?”

Lucille stepped up to her captain, gripping his jacket as she drew in a deep breath. “I’d rather work with reliable clients, not those who could potentially expose us.”

“You worry too much,” Charles said, brushing her hands off him before he pushed off the wall and sauntered to another stone column as he stretched his sides. After getting settled, he took out his comm and quickly checked the chronometer. With a smile, he shoved the device back into his pocket. “Our client isn’t about to betray us to the authorities. Besides, he has plenty of time before we can consider him late.”

“Given your history with that expression, he can be anywhere from five hours away or a handful of seconds,” Lucille said, running her fingers through her hair. “Can you let me know when we should start considering him as late for my own sanity?”

The sound of Charles’s hearty chuckle reverberated off the disheveled columns, tinging the oppressive atmosphere with a sense of mirth. “Fifteen seconds, give or take a few.”

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