shadowsong26 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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rainbowfic2025-08-31 12:02 am
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2025-08-31 12:02 am
Spring Green #4, Metallic Gold #6
Name: shadowsong26
Story: Zeal; Blood; Trust
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Spring Green #4. what's the future, who will choose it? (with paint-by-numbers from bookblather: Rema and the revolution.), Metallic Gold #6. tool
Supplies and Materials: graffiti (Lilith Faire Day Seven: Village Stage), paint-by-numbers, photography, chiaroscuro, brush (protocol), charcoal, seed beads, thread
Word Count: 358
Rating: R
Characters: Rema
Warnings: War/violence.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. Just under the wire, whee!
Rema had learned several things from her work with the Movement.
She had learned the value of zeal, and how it could be both a strength and a weakness. How it could power one forward through the darkest, most hopeless moments, when it seemed like they would never win. But also how it could blind one to risk, leading to myopic mistakes, or a single grand gesture that achieved little but an operative's death or capture.
She had learned the feeling of blood on her hands--direct and indirect; from her action and from her failure to act. She had learned the difference in the weight and feeling of the two kinds of blood, and the different ways to wash it off after. She had learned the price she was willing to pay, the lengths she was willing to go to do what must be done. She had learned to make peace with the consequences of her actions, in service of her cause.
But most important of all, she had learned the power of trust. Because a network like the Movement could not survive, let alone function, without the ability to trust each other. Nor could it survive or function if they erred and trusted the wrong person.
And when it trusted the right person, but trusted them too far--she was still contemplating what she had learned from Nida, who had failed them without betraying them entirely.
Trust was such a potent thing--a double-edged sword, even more than zeal was. And it was a fragile thing, and yet more flexible than she had realized when she was young.
So, she learned, and she applied what she had learned--monitoring and tempering the zeal in the Movement agents she worked with and through. Trusting them, just enough, through a buffer of false names and ciphers known only to a few.
And when she erred--as all humans must, from time to time?
Well. She had learned, after all, to live with the blood on her hands, direct and indirect.
As long as she was alive, as long as there was still a Cause to fight for, she would apply that lesson, too.
Story: Zeal; Blood; Trust
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Spring Green #4. what's the future, who will choose it? (with paint-by-numbers from bookblather: Rema and the revolution.), Metallic Gold #6. tool
Supplies and Materials: graffiti (Lilith Faire Day Seven: Village Stage), paint-by-numbers, photography, chiaroscuro, brush (protocol), charcoal, seed beads, thread
Word Count: 358
Rating: R
Characters: Rema
Warnings: War/violence.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. Just under the wire, whee!
Rema had learned several things from her work with the Movement.
She had learned the value of zeal, and how it could be both a strength and a weakness. How it could power one forward through the darkest, most hopeless moments, when it seemed like they would never win. But also how it could blind one to risk, leading to myopic mistakes, or a single grand gesture that achieved little but an operative's death or capture.
She had learned the feeling of blood on her hands--direct and indirect; from her action and from her failure to act. She had learned the difference in the weight and feeling of the two kinds of blood, and the different ways to wash it off after. She had learned the price she was willing to pay, the lengths she was willing to go to do what must be done. She had learned to make peace with the consequences of her actions, in service of her cause.
But most important of all, she had learned the power of trust. Because a network like the Movement could not survive, let alone function, without the ability to trust each other. Nor could it survive or function if they erred and trusted the wrong person.
And when it trusted the right person, but trusted them too far--she was still contemplating what she had learned from Nida, who had failed them without betraying them entirely.
Trust was such a potent thing--a double-edged sword, even more than zeal was. And it was a fragile thing, and yet more flexible than she had realized when she was young.
So, she learned, and she applied what she had learned--monitoring and tempering the zeal in the Movement agents she worked with and through. Trusting them, just enough, through a buffer of false names and ciphers known only to a few.
And when she erred--as all humans must, from time to time?
Well. She had learned, after all, to live with the blood on her hands, direct and indirect.
As long as she was alive, as long as there was still a Cause to fight for, she would apply that lesson, too.
no subject
Well. She had learned, after all, to live with the blood on her hands, direct and indirect.
This is very good; I like it. As ever, you have a knack with these vignettes to give a really strong look into the characters. I still don't really know most of them, but it pretty much never matters!
no subject
I like those two lines a lot, too. And I'm glad I'm able to get things across in a short space!
no subject
no subject
Yuuuuuuup pretty much.
no subject
1) sore eyes
2) "We are far too easily pleased.” ― C.S. Lewis
3) "No one ever tells someone who's drunk to volunteer."-Blake's 7
4) “There is something about a bathroom that feels like a fortress. A closed bathroom door may only be about two inches of plywood, but it feels like an iron bar.”
― Ursula Vernon