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31_days2010-04-29 01:49 pm
seta-suzume.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2010-04-29 01:49 pm
[April 29] [Original] The Power of the Order
Title: The Power of the Order
Day/Theme: April 29, 2010 "My makeup may be flaking but my smile stays on"
Series: Original
Character/Pairing: Bashir, etc.
Rating: G
"H-huh?" the assistant priest seemed surprised at being addressed. It wasn't difficult to tell who did all the talking in this duo.
"In the name of the letter 'nev,'" Bashir tried. He wasn't sure exactly how he was to exercise his power as inquisitor general as a person with no experience or reputation. "On behalf of the Order of Inquisition, you need to stop and let this girl take charge of her master's body. The Order has deemed this an internal matter. You and your colleague will return to your church and offer prayers for his soul."
The assistant priest looked surprised, if not actually cowed. Hopefully that meant this confrontation was having its intended effect. "Immediately, if you will." He took a deep breath and held it in. He tried not to blink until the priest moved away to speak with his companion. Bashir hoped he looked sufficiently confident. He knew he didn't look threatening.
"Excuse me," the darker skinned priest stepped away from Page and Fado at his subordinate's insistence. Bashir watched them as coolly as he could manage, trying to manifest the stony affect of Teleri Shi'im or the commanding air of Emperor Ilekano in his own brownish eyes. As he had expected, the leading priest looked over toward him several times during the whispered conversation, trying to gauge the verity of his claims. Even though it was true, in a way, Bashir felt he was bluffing. There was also a thread of concern tugging at his rapidly unraveling calm made of the fear that even if the priests backed down they might give him away to his colleagues. He was relying on the power of fear of the Order. There had to be a reason he heard them spoken of so infrequently. They must be a taboo subject in most quarters.
At last the tension was broken as the leading priest apologized to Fado. "Pardon the confusion, sir. It's just that this is an unusual situation. We rarely have to handle this kind of thing. I hope you and the young Catalonian have an easy time of it. Our condolences."
Bashir let out the breath he was holding as slowly as one would free a poisonous snake from a trap. His knees felt weak, but he had appearances to keep up with these folk as well, so he forced himself to stay on his feet and look unperturbed. He circulated gradually back to Simcha's side, hoping that his movements hadn't been noticed.
He felt another wave of relief run through his body as neither Simcha nor Saselia said anything. For now, he was safe.
Day/Theme: April 29, 2010 "My makeup may be flaking but my smile stays on"
Series: Original
Character/Pairing: Bashir, etc.
Rating: G
"H-huh?" the assistant priest seemed surprised at being addressed. It wasn't difficult to tell who did all the talking in this duo.
"In the name of the letter 'nev,'" Bashir tried. He wasn't sure exactly how he was to exercise his power as inquisitor general as a person with no experience or reputation. "On behalf of the Order of Inquisition, you need to stop and let this girl take charge of her master's body. The Order has deemed this an internal matter. You and your colleague will return to your church and offer prayers for his soul."
The assistant priest looked surprised, if not actually cowed. Hopefully that meant this confrontation was having its intended effect. "Immediately, if you will." He took a deep breath and held it in. He tried not to blink until the priest moved away to speak with his companion. Bashir hoped he looked sufficiently confident. He knew he didn't look threatening.
"Excuse me," the darker skinned priest stepped away from Page and Fado at his subordinate's insistence. Bashir watched them as coolly as he could manage, trying to manifest the stony affect of Teleri Shi'im or the commanding air of Emperor Ilekano in his own brownish eyes. As he had expected, the leading priest looked over toward him several times during the whispered conversation, trying to gauge the verity of his claims. Even though it was true, in a way, Bashir felt he was bluffing. There was also a thread of concern tugging at his rapidly unraveling calm made of the fear that even if the priests backed down they might give him away to his colleagues. He was relying on the power of fear of the Order. There had to be a reason he heard them spoken of so infrequently. They must be a taboo subject in most quarters.
At last the tension was broken as the leading priest apologized to Fado. "Pardon the confusion, sir. It's just that this is an unusual situation. We rarely have to handle this kind of thing. I hope you and the young Catalonian have an easy time of it. Our condolences."
Bashir let out the breath he was holding as slowly as one would free a poisonous snake from a trap. His knees felt weak, but he had appearances to keep up with these folk as well, so he forced himself to stay on his feet and look unperturbed. He circulated gradually back to Simcha's side, hoping that his movements hadn't been noticed.
He felt another wave of relief run through his body as neither Simcha nor Saselia said anything. For now, he was safe.