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31_days2012-06-30 03:29 pm
insaneladybug.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2012-06-30 03:29 pm
[June 30th] [Perry Mason] Lux Aeterna, 30
Title: Lux Aeterna, scene 30
Day/Theme: June 30th - Starless waters
Series: Perry Mason
Character/Pairing: Perry Mason, Della Street, Paul Drake, Hamilton Burger, Mignon Germaine, Howie Peterson (OC)
Rating: K+/PG
Takes place right after #29.
And thus this series is brought to a close. It's been a lot of fun, and definitely more challenging than the other two theme sets I did in full. Now I must focus mostly on my FF.net projects: Perry, The Wild Wild West, West Side Story, and more. But I hope to write for at least a few July prompts here!
By Lucky_Ladybug
The celebration over Florence’s defeat was held in the banquet room of a waterfront hotel in town. As the evening wore on and dinner concluded, the people began to spread out and break into groups to mingle and talk. Some went onto the patio to bask in the late-summer night air and watch the calm water touching the shoreline.
“It’s strange, isn’t it,” Della mused as she stood with Perry and Paul. “That it’s really over, I mean. It almost feels like that’s impossible, that we should still be at war with Florence.” She drew her silk wrap closer around her shoulders. It was chilly tonight, but it was refreshing.
“In some ways, it won’t really be over for a long time,” Perry mused. “For some people, maybe never. Those who have lost loved ones or who have been permanently marred for the rest of their lives may always be at war with Florence to some extent.”
Paul shook his head. “We were lucky,” he said. “Most of us got off with just a few scratches.”
“Well, not in Sergeant Brice’s case,” Della exclaimed. “He was out of commission for more than a couple of months, and he’s still not completely better.”
They glanced to where the recovering sergeant was sitting at a table inside, talking and laughing with Tragg, Andy, and Steve.
“Yeah,” Paul said, more serious now. “But he is getting better. And he’s not going to have any lasting effects, except maybe a scar where the bullet hit him.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Meanwhile, I get a firsthand taste of what it must have been like for Burger when Vivalene blasted him. Boy, if that isn’t poetic justice.”
Perry looked to him. “You didn’t need any taste of poetic justice, Paul,” he said. “You felt horrible about what happened to Hamilton.”
“Yeah, I know I did. But I had no idea how painful it must have been. I think in some part of my mind, I might’ve even been wondering how a blast from that box could’ve killed him. Or at least, how it sure made it look like he was dead. Then again, maybe I was still having a hard time getting used to the idea of magic being responsible.”
“I think all of us wondered to some extent,” Perry said. “Especially Hamilton himself.”
“What’s going to happen to the Box now?” Della worried.
Perry sighed. “Well, Tragg finally recovered it from the ruins of the tower. I think Mignon said she was going to arrange to have it buried in several layers of stone under the ground.”
“Man, I wish we could just destroy the thing,” Paul grumbled.
“We all do,” Perry said. “Only it certainly looks like it isn’t possible. It makes me wonder if destroying it might cause more of a calamity than leaving it alone.”
“What?” Paul exclaimed. “How would that even be possible?!”
“Simple,” was Perry’s reply. “Without the Box to contain it, where would all of the dark magic go?”
Della cringed. “All over the world,” she gasped.
“Exactly. So maybe it’s in our best interest to just leave it alone from now on.”
Paul shook his head. “Now that’s a real-life Pandora’s Box if I’ve ever heard one.”
“Maybe that’s even what it is,” Perry said. “The real Pandora’s Box on which the myth was based.”
“That’s a scary thought,” Paul frowned. “Are you saying maybe there’s a real-life counterpart to every myth?”
“Myths have to start somewhere, Paul,” Perry said. “I don’t believe they were all just morality plays made up to scare ancient children, as fairytales were. And who knows, maybe even fairytales have some basis in fact as well.”
Paul heaved a deep sigh. “You’re probably right,” he said grudgingly. “As always.”
“Ho ho.” Perry turned his attention to the water. The only things reflected on it tonight were the lights of the buildings. It was an increasingly overcast evening, with the moon and the stars obscured by clouds.
“. . . I’m wondering if there’s going to be a backlash from the people who supported Florence’s reign,” he said.
Della started. “Haven’t most of them been rounded up and arrested?” she exclaimed.
“Most,” Perry agreed. “And yet, how can one really say that some of them did wrong? Some weren’t happy with the world because they weren’t able to properly care for their families, and under Florence they had everything they needed to survive.”
“I guess.” Paul frowned. “But then there’s the crooked police and politicians and other mercenaries who just wanted to line their pockets. And people who were just too lazy to bother doing any work.”
“And those are the main ones in jail right now,” Perry said. “Those who had legitimate reasons for following Florence shouldn’t be arrested or prosecuted. Hamilton agrees with me. We’re going to be petitioning for more to be done to help those people, both here and around the world. They shouldn’t have to go back to what they had before Florence took over—not even enough to get by.”
Della smiled. “I’m sure you and Hamilton will do a wonderful job. Can we get in on it, or is it just for lawyers and judges and the police?”
“Oh, I’m sure there will be plenty for everyone to do,” Perry said. “Rebuilding the world is everyone’s task, not just the lawyers’ and judges’ and the police’s. Hopefully we’ll be able to make it even better than it was before Florence seized control. Then, if this ever happens again, perhaps good people will be less likely to feel they have to accept tyranny to survive.”
Della nodded in thoughtfulness. “Mr. Mason, the new world is lucky to have men like you leading the charge.”
Perry smiled. “Men like me are lucky to have efficient secretaries—and detectives—to help them lead the charge.”
“Yes, you are,” Paul grunted.
Across the patio, Hamilton and Mignon had also stepped out to examine the night ocean. Mignon stared out at it from where they were standing at the corner of the deck.
“There are no stars tonight,” she observed.
“Is that a bad sign?” Hamilton asked. Not that he would really believe it if it was, but he was curious as to Mignon’s thought process.
She shook her head. “No, not necessarily. An overcast sky has its own beauty.”
She looked up at him. “Howie showed me your song.”
“Well . . .” Hamilton shrugged. “It probably wasn’t that good. I’m glad he’s happy with it.”
“Anything you do for him means a great deal.” Mignon turned her attention back to the water. “I’m grateful the Petersons were mostly untouched by Florence’s reign. And that this time Howie was not present at the climatic battle.”
“You and me both.” Hamilton sighed. “Sometimes he still has nightmares about what Vivalene did to me. If he’d been at Florence’s tower when the floor gave out . . .” He let that sentence fade into the soft wind. Howie could have been seriously hurt. And even if he had been physically alright, the terrifying fall and seeing so many wounded and dead people afterwards would have traumatized him.
Mignon nodded at the unspoken words. “We have many things to be thankful for.”
A comfortable silence fell between them for a moment. When Mignon spoke again, it felt very natural and not out of place in the least. “Has it been difficult, setting your office in order again?”
“It hasn’t been too bad,” Hamilton said. “Most of the people in my office were either part of the rebellion or supported it. There were one or two bad apples we had to weed out. Sampson found one of them; he was pretty psyched up about that.”
“I can imagine.” A ghost of a smile flitted across Mignon’s features.
“He really wanted to do something to help,” Hamilton said. “Even to fight, if necessary. But I’m glad it didn’t come to that.”
“For Leon, too,” Mignon observed.
“Oh yeah, Leon too. But he and Sampson made themselves useful back at headquarters.”
Mignon nodded. “Their contributions were invaluable to the cause. Without them, many important messages might have never been sent or received.”
“No kidding.
“It’s going to be strange, not to be going off to that old building every night.”
“What’s going to happen to it now?” Mignon wondered. “Do you know?”
“No, I don’t. It’ll fall back into disrepair, I suppose. Unless one of the millionaires in the rebellion decides to buy it and fix it up again.”
“That would be nice. I wouldn’t call myself an especially sentimental person, but that building did come to mean a lot to all of us.”
Hamilton nodded. “We couldn’t have won against Florence without it, that’s for sure.”
“What about Mr. Mason’s young friend David?” Mignon suddenly asked. “Has he decided what to do with himself now that everything is over?”
“I have to admit, I’m not sure about that, either,” Hamilton said, looking awkward. “I think I heard him telling Paul that his boss wasn’t too happy when he told him about his involvement in the rebellion. But that may have been more because David didn’t tell him the truth in the first place.”
“Perhaps.”
“I think he’s going to go try to sort things out back there,” Hamilton said. “He said he’s still interested in practicing law here in Los Angeles, but he doesn’t want to end up competing with Perry over clients.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t; there are many lawyers in this city.”
“And, as Tragg says, there’s only one Perry Mason.” Hamilton smirked a bit. “I’m sure David would find his own niche without disturbing Perry’s clientele. But I guess we’ll just have to wait and see whether he moves back to stay.”
Mignon nodded. But before she could reply, Howie abruptly appeared. “Hi, Mr. Burger, Mignon,” he chirped.
“Hello, Howie,” Mignon smiled.
“Hello, Howie,” Hamilton echoed.
“It’s been a really fun night,” Howie said. “But Mom says we’ll have to leave soon.”
“Well, you need to get your rest,” Hamilton said. “It is getting late.”
“I guess.” Howie hesitated a moment. “Thank you again for the song, Mr. Burger. And . . .” He bit his lip. “I’m glad you kept both your promises.”
“Both?” Hamilton asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Yeah.” Howie smiled. “You said that if you were still alive, you wouldn’t go away like Frodo did. And you’re still here!”
Understanding, Hamilton smiled too. “That’s true,” he said. “I’m still here.”
They all were. And, as with the Fellowship of the Ring, upon Florence’s defeat they were ready to go forward into a new tomorrow—bound together by friendship and love, as always.
Day/Theme: June 30th - Starless waters
Series: Perry Mason
Character/Pairing: Perry Mason, Della Street, Paul Drake, Hamilton Burger, Mignon Germaine, Howie Peterson (OC)
Rating: K+/PG
Takes place right after #29.
And thus this series is brought to a close. It's been a lot of fun, and definitely more challenging than the other two theme sets I did in full. Now I must focus mostly on my FF.net projects: Perry, The Wild Wild West, West Side Story, and more. But I hope to write for at least a few July prompts here!
The celebration over Florence’s defeat was held in the banquet room of a waterfront hotel in town. As the evening wore on and dinner concluded, the people began to spread out and break into groups to mingle and talk. Some went onto the patio to bask in the late-summer night air and watch the calm water touching the shoreline.
“It’s strange, isn’t it,” Della mused as she stood with Perry and Paul. “That it’s really over, I mean. It almost feels like that’s impossible, that we should still be at war with Florence.” She drew her silk wrap closer around her shoulders. It was chilly tonight, but it was refreshing.
“In some ways, it won’t really be over for a long time,” Perry mused. “For some people, maybe never. Those who have lost loved ones or who have been permanently marred for the rest of their lives may always be at war with Florence to some extent.”
Paul shook his head. “We were lucky,” he said. “Most of us got off with just a few scratches.”
“Well, not in Sergeant Brice’s case,” Della exclaimed. “He was out of commission for more than a couple of months, and he’s still not completely better.”
They glanced to where the recovering sergeant was sitting at a table inside, talking and laughing with Tragg, Andy, and Steve.
“Yeah,” Paul said, more serious now. “But he is getting better. And he’s not going to have any lasting effects, except maybe a scar where the bullet hit him.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Meanwhile, I get a firsthand taste of what it must have been like for Burger when Vivalene blasted him. Boy, if that isn’t poetic justice.”
Perry looked to him. “You didn’t need any taste of poetic justice, Paul,” he said. “You felt horrible about what happened to Hamilton.”
“Yeah, I know I did. But I had no idea how painful it must have been. I think in some part of my mind, I might’ve even been wondering how a blast from that box could’ve killed him. Or at least, how it sure made it look like he was dead. Then again, maybe I was still having a hard time getting used to the idea of magic being responsible.”
“I think all of us wondered to some extent,” Perry said. “Especially Hamilton himself.”
“What’s going to happen to the Box now?” Della worried.
Perry sighed. “Well, Tragg finally recovered it from the ruins of the tower. I think Mignon said she was going to arrange to have it buried in several layers of stone under the ground.”
“Man, I wish we could just destroy the thing,” Paul grumbled.
“We all do,” Perry said. “Only it certainly looks like it isn’t possible. It makes me wonder if destroying it might cause more of a calamity than leaving it alone.”
“What?” Paul exclaimed. “How would that even be possible?!”
“Simple,” was Perry’s reply. “Without the Box to contain it, where would all of the dark magic go?”
Della cringed. “All over the world,” she gasped.
“Exactly. So maybe it’s in our best interest to just leave it alone from now on.”
Paul shook his head. “Now that’s a real-life Pandora’s Box if I’ve ever heard one.”
“Maybe that’s even what it is,” Perry said. “The real Pandora’s Box on which the myth was based.”
“That’s a scary thought,” Paul frowned. “Are you saying maybe there’s a real-life counterpart to every myth?”
“Myths have to start somewhere, Paul,” Perry said. “I don’t believe they were all just morality plays made up to scare ancient children, as fairytales were. And who knows, maybe even fairytales have some basis in fact as well.”
Paul heaved a deep sigh. “You’re probably right,” he said grudgingly. “As always.”
“Ho ho.” Perry turned his attention to the water. The only things reflected on it tonight were the lights of the buildings. It was an increasingly overcast evening, with the moon and the stars obscured by clouds.
“. . . I’m wondering if there’s going to be a backlash from the people who supported Florence’s reign,” he said.
Della started. “Haven’t most of them been rounded up and arrested?” she exclaimed.
“Most,” Perry agreed. “And yet, how can one really say that some of them did wrong? Some weren’t happy with the world because they weren’t able to properly care for their families, and under Florence they had everything they needed to survive.”
“I guess.” Paul frowned. “But then there’s the crooked police and politicians and other mercenaries who just wanted to line their pockets. And people who were just too lazy to bother doing any work.”
“And those are the main ones in jail right now,” Perry said. “Those who had legitimate reasons for following Florence shouldn’t be arrested or prosecuted. Hamilton agrees with me. We’re going to be petitioning for more to be done to help those people, both here and around the world. They shouldn’t have to go back to what they had before Florence took over—not even enough to get by.”
Della smiled. “I’m sure you and Hamilton will do a wonderful job. Can we get in on it, or is it just for lawyers and judges and the police?”
“Oh, I’m sure there will be plenty for everyone to do,” Perry said. “Rebuilding the world is everyone’s task, not just the lawyers’ and judges’ and the police’s. Hopefully we’ll be able to make it even better than it was before Florence seized control. Then, if this ever happens again, perhaps good people will be less likely to feel they have to accept tyranny to survive.”
Della nodded in thoughtfulness. “Mr. Mason, the new world is lucky to have men like you leading the charge.”
Perry smiled. “Men like me are lucky to have efficient secretaries—and detectives—to help them lead the charge.”
“Yes, you are,” Paul grunted.
Across the patio, Hamilton and Mignon had also stepped out to examine the night ocean. Mignon stared out at it from where they were standing at the corner of the deck.
“There are no stars tonight,” she observed.
“Is that a bad sign?” Hamilton asked. Not that he would really believe it if it was, but he was curious as to Mignon’s thought process.
She shook her head. “No, not necessarily. An overcast sky has its own beauty.”
She looked up at him. “Howie showed me your song.”
“Well . . .” Hamilton shrugged. “It probably wasn’t that good. I’m glad he’s happy with it.”
“Anything you do for him means a great deal.” Mignon turned her attention back to the water. “I’m grateful the Petersons were mostly untouched by Florence’s reign. And that this time Howie was not present at the climatic battle.”
“You and me both.” Hamilton sighed. “Sometimes he still has nightmares about what Vivalene did to me. If he’d been at Florence’s tower when the floor gave out . . .” He let that sentence fade into the soft wind. Howie could have been seriously hurt. And even if he had been physically alright, the terrifying fall and seeing so many wounded and dead people afterwards would have traumatized him.
Mignon nodded at the unspoken words. “We have many things to be thankful for.”
A comfortable silence fell between them for a moment. When Mignon spoke again, it felt very natural and not out of place in the least. “Has it been difficult, setting your office in order again?”
“It hasn’t been too bad,” Hamilton said. “Most of the people in my office were either part of the rebellion or supported it. There were one or two bad apples we had to weed out. Sampson found one of them; he was pretty psyched up about that.”
“I can imagine.” A ghost of a smile flitted across Mignon’s features.
“He really wanted to do something to help,” Hamilton said. “Even to fight, if necessary. But I’m glad it didn’t come to that.”
“For Leon, too,” Mignon observed.
“Oh yeah, Leon too. But he and Sampson made themselves useful back at headquarters.”
Mignon nodded. “Their contributions were invaluable to the cause. Without them, many important messages might have never been sent or received.”
“No kidding.
“It’s going to be strange, not to be going off to that old building every night.”
“What’s going to happen to it now?” Mignon wondered. “Do you know?”
“No, I don’t. It’ll fall back into disrepair, I suppose. Unless one of the millionaires in the rebellion decides to buy it and fix it up again.”
“That would be nice. I wouldn’t call myself an especially sentimental person, but that building did come to mean a lot to all of us.”
Hamilton nodded. “We couldn’t have won against Florence without it, that’s for sure.”
“What about Mr. Mason’s young friend David?” Mignon suddenly asked. “Has he decided what to do with himself now that everything is over?”
“I have to admit, I’m not sure about that, either,” Hamilton said, looking awkward. “I think I heard him telling Paul that his boss wasn’t too happy when he told him about his involvement in the rebellion. But that may have been more because David didn’t tell him the truth in the first place.”
“Perhaps.”
“I think he’s going to go try to sort things out back there,” Hamilton said. “He said he’s still interested in practicing law here in Los Angeles, but he doesn’t want to end up competing with Perry over clients.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t; there are many lawyers in this city.”
“And, as Tragg says, there’s only one Perry Mason.” Hamilton smirked a bit. “I’m sure David would find his own niche without disturbing Perry’s clientele. But I guess we’ll just have to wait and see whether he moves back to stay.”
Mignon nodded. But before she could reply, Howie abruptly appeared. “Hi, Mr. Burger, Mignon,” he chirped.
“Hello, Howie,” Mignon smiled.
“Hello, Howie,” Hamilton echoed.
“It’s been a really fun night,” Howie said. “But Mom says we’ll have to leave soon.”
“Well, you need to get your rest,” Hamilton said. “It is getting late.”
“I guess.” Howie hesitated a moment. “Thank you again for the song, Mr. Burger. And . . .” He bit his lip. “I’m glad you kept both your promises.”
“Both?” Hamilton asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Yeah.” Howie smiled. “You said that if you were still alive, you wouldn’t go away like Frodo did. And you’re still here!”
Understanding, Hamilton smiled too. “That’s true,” he said. “I’m still here.”
They all were. And, as with the Fellowship of the Ring, upon Florence’s defeat they were ready to go forward into a new tomorrow—bound together by friendship and love, as always.