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rainbowfic2014-01-13 08:39 pm
kay_brooke) wrote in rainbowfic2014-01-13 08:39 pm
Octarine #10, Tango Pink #18
Name: kay_brooke
Story: David/Cleaner
Colors: Octarine #10 (just because it's not nice doesn't mean it's not miraculous), Tango Pink #18 (tapdance)
Styles/Supplies: Canvas, Charcoal
Word Count: 379
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply
Summary: An exchange happens.
Note: A scrap of a prequel scene in the world of my novel David/Cleaner. Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
“Are you sure?” the proctor dared to ask, hair slicked back, Corporation logo prominent against the left breast.
“Give me the paper.”
“I've been told to ask if this is truly what you want.”
She took the binder from him herself, snatched it out of his smooth, pale hands. Never been a worker, that one, never seen a day of manual labor. Some were lucky like that. She didn't bother to answer his outrageous question. He had to ask, because he had been told to ask, and someone was always watching. But it was an idiotic question all the same. It didn't matter if she wanted it. The Corporation wanted it. There was no consideration beyond that.
She wanted it.
Not out of loyalty to the Corporation, at least not that kind. Not out of fear or reverence. Out of ambition. All she had to do was give away the thing she didn't want anyway, and in return her life would be made.
Some were lucky like that.
She signed her name to the paper, finishing her surname with a flourish, because what she was giving them allowed her that boldness. She didn't read the document. There would be nothing wrong with it. An entire team from the legal department would have worked on it for weeks, making sure it was perfect. Making sure there were no loopholes, no way for her to change her mind or take it back.
Not that the Corporation needed to fear such a thing. They had other ways of ensuring silence.
She gave a shudder of glee as she handed the binder back to the proctor. “Done.”
He didn't look it over; he knew as well as she what had just happened could not be undone, no matter the actual words. “When are you due?” he asked.
“One month.”
He nodded. “I'll inform my superiors. Everything will be ready on the day.”
“My promotion?”
“Two weeks recovery time,” said the proctor. “They don't want you bleeding out in the lab. But after that, report to your department and someone will show you where to go.”
She nodded; that was more than acceptable.
The proctor grabbed his hat and tipped his head toward her. “One month. They'll be ready.”
“So will I,” she said.
kay_brookeStory: David/Cleaner
Colors: Octarine #10 (just because it's not nice doesn't mean it's not miraculous), Tango Pink #18 (tapdance)
Styles/Supplies: Canvas, Charcoal
Word Count: 379
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply
Summary: An exchange happens.
Note: A scrap of a prequel scene in the world of my novel David/Cleaner. Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
“Are you sure?” the proctor dared to ask, hair slicked back, Corporation logo prominent against the left breast.
“Give me the paper.”
“I've been told to ask if this is truly what you want.”
She took the binder from him herself, snatched it out of his smooth, pale hands. Never been a worker, that one, never seen a day of manual labor. Some were lucky like that. She didn't bother to answer his outrageous question. He had to ask, because he had been told to ask, and someone was always watching. But it was an idiotic question all the same. It didn't matter if she wanted it. The Corporation wanted it. There was no consideration beyond that.
She wanted it.
Not out of loyalty to the Corporation, at least not that kind. Not out of fear or reverence. Out of ambition. All she had to do was give away the thing she didn't want anyway, and in return her life would be made.
Some were lucky like that.
She signed her name to the paper, finishing her surname with a flourish, because what she was giving them allowed her that boldness. She didn't read the document. There would be nothing wrong with it. An entire team from the legal department would have worked on it for weeks, making sure it was perfect. Making sure there were no loopholes, no way for her to change her mind or take it back.
Not that the Corporation needed to fear such a thing. They had other ways of ensuring silence.
She gave a shudder of glee as she handed the binder back to the proctor. “Done.”
He didn't look it over; he knew as well as she what had just happened could not be undone, no matter the actual words. “When are you due?” he asked.
“One month.”
He nodded. “I'll inform my superiors. Everything will be ready on the day.”
“My promotion?”
“Two weeks recovery time,” said the proctor. “They don't want you bleeding out in the lab. But after that, report to your department and someone will show you where to go.”
She nodded; that was more than acceptable.
The proctor grabbed his hat and tipped his head toward her. “One month. They'll be ready.”
“So will I,” she said.