#overgrcwth

✶ @overgrcwth

@overgrcwth

It’s been so long - so many days and nights, years worth of days and nights - since Chef has truly felt disturbed in the desert. They don’t count the manic episodes that scorch their insides and leave images constantly just out of their view. In fact, the profound discomfort that grips them tonight, they almost expect it to be something they’ve conjured up without realizing. If only. Pulling off the main road and checking the roadside ditch only confirms the reality of the situation.

A body. A young woman.

Chef isn’t sick immediately, but they have to take a long minute - faced pressed firmly into their hands - to ground themself. They don’t want to be the one who has to deal with this; they can’t be. But as sure as the tossing and turning of their stomach, Chef clenches their fists and investigates. Breath held, they turn her over and - no blood, no gore. They exhale hard at the sight of her chest rising and falling. There’s a hundred other questions, and a thousand different ways their mind is racing, but they feel a profound sense of relief. 

When the sun begins to rise through the window of the lab, their newfound companion finally does too. Chef doesn’t move, as much as the sudden rush of anxiety wants them to bolt. They take a sip from their coffee.

     knowledge is power --- how often had meela heard those words? how often had they TAUNTED her? even now, in the race to control the world, meela was helpless against that truth: someone had knowledge she needed. that someone was named minh. ( a historian, of all things! to think that imhotep was bested by one, and now, meela planned to use one to her own advantage. ) she did not approach the woman with her usual group of men. here was another truth, one she had learned in another life: you gained as much with a smile as you did with a blade.

     meela approached the woman as she was leaving her work. ( of course, for as USEFUL as a smile was, she still carried a dagger, tucked away out of sight. ) “what a wonderful job you must have.” flattery --- the oldest weapon, especially in a country like the united states. “i have read about your current work --- ms. phuong-ward, is it? EGYPT... a lovely place. i’ve traveled a long way because of it. i have A JOB OFFER for you.” 

[ TEXT: Chuck H. ] you have a dog? [ TEXT: Chuck H. ] nvm no i remember [ TEXT: Chuck H. ] your dog can talk??? [ TEXT: Chuck H. ] wait are you drunk?????

“Uh-- no. That’s a gun in my pocket.” He takes it from his belt and holds it up for the other to see. “Oh-- don’t worry. I’m a cop.” A soft chuckle as he replaces his weapon. “Though I’ve heard that line quite a few times.”