Ilthit (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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rainbowfic2019-11-13 10:02 am
ilthit) wrote in rainbowfic2019-11-13 10:02 am
Canary Yellow #8: Renunciations (The Quality of Mercy)
Name: Renunciations
Story: The Quality of Mercy (Peccadillo Parlour)
Colors: Canary Yellow #8: It is the cry of a thousand sentinels, the echo from a thousand labyrinths; it is the lighthouse which cannot be hidden the best evidence we can give of our dignity.
Supplies and Styles: n/a
Word Count: 450
Rating: general
Warnings: None.
Summary: The betrayal, in a series of 50-word moments.
There should be a word for this emotion, thought Prudence as Gordon clinked his glass against hers, his pale puffy cheeks drawn into a familiar grimace that, for the moment, didn’t even look like a smile to her, but merely a facial configuration with no particular meaning. Iscariotish, perhaps? Jagoan?
-
"I don't want you next to me in the court room." The quick click-clack of her heels on the tiles. "One look at your smug face and he will guess everything."
"But, dear Prudence, that will not affect the outcome."
But it mattered. She'd rather the knife slide in quietly.
-
Prudence had to check Gordon's flight of words once again. He really was getting on. Talking too much. "Just the facts. You were under the impression that Cadfield was telling the truth."
"We all were."
"Thank you. No further questions."
Her eyes met Jimmy's as he rose. "Your honor, redirect?"
-
Violet was incandescent with rage. It glowed on her, on her brow like a halo.
What had they done? The firm was called Holmes, Gordon & Gibbs. Not Gao & Banks. And now Gordon was on the pillory.
Yet she said nothing, even as the depositions came to a close.
-
"I'm just happy the truth has come out now, for the sake of the victim's family."
"Miss Gao! Is it true you were pressured to let Cadfield off by Hugh Gordon?"
"Hugh Gordon is a close friend of mine--"
"That's enough," Jimmy whispered as he drew Prudence away. "Well done."
-
"Who came up with this?"
Jimmy lounged against the desk, rolling and unrolling a cigarette. Its smell clashed with Violet's perfume.
"Jimmy," said Prudence without hesitation. Violet's eyes narrowed; the corner of Jimmy's mouth tucked up.
"I'm your 'assault rifle', aren't I?" Jimmy licked the paper. "What did you expect?"
-
"Fix it." Violet's voice brooked no arguments. She'd cornered Prudence in her office, alone and holding a steaming cup of coffee.
"Jimmy..."
"No. You fix it. I am not letting a named partner go down to cover up your stupid, immature mistake."
Anger, like a cobra, rose from Pru's core.
-
"Why hasn't she fired me?"
"You know why."
Pru sighed. "A show of unity. Damage control. Limit the losses to Gordon."
"Isn't it delicious? Knowing how much she wants to."
Pru gave Jimmy a sharp look. But she knew what he meant.
Oh God, she knew exactly what he meant.
-
It was quiet here. Even nature was still tonight, wind leaving her window unrattled.
Pru wiped the ring of coffee off her desk, kicked the bin into position under her desk. Turned the chair towards the desk.
Once she walked through that door, it could be for the last time.
Story: The Quality of Mercy (Peccadillo Parlour)
Colors: Canary Yellow #8: It is the cry of a thousand sentinels, the echo from a thousand labyrinths; it is the lighthouse which cannot be hidden the best evidence we can give of our dignity.
Supplies and Styles: n/a
Word Count: 450
Rating: general
Warnings: None.
Summary: The betrayal, in a series of 50-word moments.
There should be a word for this emotion, thought Prudence as Gordon clinked his glass against hers, his pale puffy cheeks drawn into a familiar grimace that, for the moment, didn’t even look like a smile to her, but merely a facial configuration with no particular meaning. Iscariotish, perhaps? Jagoan?
-
"I don't want you next to me in the court room." The quick click-clack of her heels on the tiles. "One look at your smug face and he will guess everything."
"But, dear Prudence, that will not affect the outcome."
But it mattered. She'd rather the knife slide in quietly.
-
Prudence had to check Gordon's flight of words once again. He really was getting on. Talking too much. "Just the facts. You were under the impression that Cadfield was telling the truth."
"We all were."
"Thank you. No further questions."
Her eyes met Jimmy's as he rose. "Your honor, redirect?"
-
Violet was incandescent with rage. It glowed on her, on her brow like a halo.
What had they done? The firm was called Holmes, Gordon & Gibbs. Not Gao & Banks. And now Gordon was on the pillory.
Yet she said nothing, even as the depositions came to a close.
-
"I'm just happy the truth has come out now, for the sake of the victim's family."
"Miss Gao! Is it true you were pressured to let Cadfield off by Hugh Gordon?"
"Hugh Gordon is a close friend of mine--"
"That's enough," Jimmy whispered as he drew Prudence away. "Well done."
-
"Who came up with this?"
Jimmy lounged against the desk, rolling and unrolling a cigarette. Its smell clashed with Violet's perfume.
"Jimmy," said Prudence without hesitation. Violet's eyes narrowed; the corner of Jimmy's mouth tucked up.
"I'm your 'assault rifle', aren't I?" Jimmy licked the paper. "What did you expect?"
-
"Fix it." Violet's voice brooked no arguments. She'd cornered Prudence in her office, alone and holding a steaming cup of coffee.
"Jimmy..."
"No. You fix it. I am not letting a named partner go down to cover up your stupid, immature mistake."
Anger, like a cobra, rose from Pru's core.
-
"Why hasn't she fired me?"
"You know why."
Pru sighed. "A show of unity. Damage control. Limit the losses to Gordon."
"Isn't it delicious? Knowing how much she wants to."
Pru gave Jimmy a sharp look. But she knew what he meant.
Oh God, she knew exactly what he meant.
-
It was quiet here. Even nature was still tonight, wind leaving her window unrattled.
Pru wiped the ring of coffee off her desk, kicked the bin into position under her desk. Turned the chair towards the desk.
Once she walked through that door, it could be for the last time.
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