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31_days2008-11-01 10:58 am
seta-suzume.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2008-11-01 10:58 am
[Nov. 1, 2008][Original] Ambivalent Tales
Title: Ambivalent Tales
Day/Theme: Nov. 1, 2008 "you silver tongued, unreliable narrator"
Series: Original
Character/Pairing: Jin, Michael, Madonna, Karl
Rating: PG
"I never harmed a hair on my brother's head."
"Oh, and you never harmed a hair on Queen Elisa's head either," Michael scoffed.
"Perhaps, little monk, he notes a difference between those he has killed for him and those he's killed himself," Madonna suggested with an air of nonchalance about her gracefully draped body. She hung about her chair like a cultivated orchid, one leg up and the other down. Her favored feathered fan drooped downward in her hand. I would never tire of Madonna's company.
"He didn't need to harm Cheisian, 'cuz we did it for him," Karl picked his teeth with a toothpick. Scattered across the platter before him was an entire array of unappealing bones left behind by his meal. He was a man who ate like a beast. Madonna was repulsed by his habits and looked away in disgust, but I was unmoved by his manners. I suppose I never would have hired a man who truly disgusted me.
"I had nothing to do with the death of my brother," I insisted. I hadn't ordered anyone to do so. I hadn't done it myself. I had never hated Cheisian the way I abhorred our father. He was only a minor inconvenience.
"But you had everything to do with all those other things," Michael pressed on undaunted. How someone in his position could find the nerve to scold his captor I will never know. I had wanted him once, but as time wore on the benefits of his knowledge seemed less and less worth the numerous troubles associated with dragging him along everywhere. Sooner or later I would have to cut Brother Michael loose.
"Perhaps," I shrugged. I preferred ambiguity to lies. It led to me shrugging quite often. It was my favorite gesture of ambivalence. "I don't know if you're talking merely about the things I have done or if you're including all the rumors in there as well. Because for all I have accomplished in these few years, there are many unfounded stories as well."
"Something tells me that you've started half those rumors yourself," Michael deadpanned, looking at me with a sigh in his eyes, as though he found me to be a pitiably despicable man.
"I couldn't say," I shrugged again. Rumors didn't interest me. Perhaps I was a pitiably despicable man.
Day/Theme: Nov. 1, 2008 "you silver tongued, unreliable narrator"
Series: Original
Character/Pairing: Jin, Michael, Madonna, Karl
Rating: PG
"I never harmed a hair on my brother's head."
"Oh, and you never harmed a hair on Queen Elisa's head either," Michael scoffed.
"Perhaps, little monk, he notes a difference between those he has killed for him and those he's killed himself," Madonna suggested with an air of nonchalance about her gracefully draped body. She hung about her chair like a cultivated orchid, one leg up and the other down. Her favored feathered fan drooped downward in her hand. I would never tire of Madonna's company.
"He didn't need to harm Cheisian, 'cuz we did it for him," Karl picked his teeth with a toothpick. Scattered across the platter before him was an entire array of unappealing bones left behind by his meal. He was a man who ate like a beast. Madonna was repulsed by his habits and looked away in disgust, but I was unmoved by his manners. I suppose I never would have hired a man who truly disgusted me.
"I had nothing to do with the death of my brother," I insisted. I hadn't ordered anyone to do so. I hadn't done it myself. I had never hated Cheisian the way I abhorred our father. He was only a minor inconvenience.
"But you had everything to do with all those other things," Michael pressed on undaunted. How someone in his position could find the nerve to scold his captor I will never know. I had wanted him once, but as time wore on the benefits of his knowledge seemed less and less worth the numerous troubles associated with dragging him along everywhere. Sooner or later I would have to cut Brother Michael loose.
"Perhaps," I shrugged. I preferred ambiguity to lies. It led to me shrugging quite often. It was my favorite gesture of ambivalence. "I don't know if you're talking merely about the things I have done or if you're including all the rumors in there as well. Because for all I have accomplished in these few years, there are many unfounded stories as well."
"Something tells me that you've started half those rumors yourself," Michael deadpanned, looking at me with a sigh in his eyes, as though he found me to be a pitiably despicable man.
"I couldn't say," I shrugged again. Rumors didn't interest me. Perhaps I was a pitiably despicable man.