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rainbowfic2014-03-10 10:31 am
kay_brooke) wrote in rainbowfic2014-03-10 10:31 am
Admin Yellow #14, Cinnbar #11
Name: kay_brooke
Story: David/Cleaner
Colors: Admin Yellow #14 (I don't particularly like killing people, but I'm very good at it), Cinnabar #11 (reduce)
Styles/Supplies: Canvas, Charcoal, Pastels (fororigfic_bingo prompt "ordinary day")
Word Count: 714
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply.
Summary: Just because you should doesn't mean you can.
Note: A piece I wrote for a prompt call last month, off a prompt fromaldersprig. Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
“Ms. President.”
“Yes, what is it?” Dora did not look up from her ledger. The middle of the week was always the busiest time, with every office in full swing and every bit of paperwork coming to her. She knew the man in the doorway—military man, a former general of the city army from when there had been a city army, now smoothly slotted into the Corporation's own military organization—knew that, and that he had pulled every favor he had to see her personally this day. She had every reason to mistrust a man who had so blithely turned against the society he was pledged to, but who would he betray her to? The rebels? The very idea was laughable.
He said he had something important to say, and there was no real reason why she should think he was lying. So she had agreed to hear him out.
“The temple is making trouble again.”
She dipped her quill in the inkpot and scribbled her signature. Saints, but she so desperately wanted to retrieve the ballpoint pen from her desk drawer. But she must not use foreign technology in front of those without the proper clearance level. All the more reason to hustle the military man along. “The temple is always making trouble. Do you have something new to add, or are you just here to waste my time?”
“That is precisely why I am here,” said the military man. “The temple has been nothing but a burr in our foot for a century now. My men and I have been talking. We understand the Corporation's reluctance to mount a full scale attack, given the potential for mass casualties, but we've drawn up a strategy that may mitigate that. If you'd allow me to--”
She held up one hand, and he, good soldier, immediately stopped talking. “If you believe our 'reluctance to attack,' as you put it, has anything to do with potential casualties, then you do not understand at all why we stay our hand.”
The military man frowned. “Then why? They help the rebels, you know. They supply them with food and sometimes shelter.”
Dora shrugged. “The rebels are of no concern to us. They are nothing but powerless brutes, scraping a living from dead soil and the spotty generosity of those who still hold on to religion. The temple's usefulness to us outweighs whatever help they provide the rebels.”
“Their usefulness?” The military man shook his head. “Ms. President, forgive me, but what exactly does the temple provide us?”
“It provides you and I nothing,” said Dora. “But there are those in the city, enough of them, who still believe. Destroying the temple could well swell the ranks of the rebels.”
“You said the rebels weren't a problem.”
“And I would like to keep it that way.” She curled her lip at the man. “The city army made you a general, really? You have precious little knowledge of how people work.”
“That wasn't my job,” said the military man stiffly.
“Clearly,” she said. “As to your purpose here, no, I will not hear your strategy. The temple is to be left alone. Do you understand?”
The military man nodded, but his sour look betrayed him. Dora made a mental note to assign someone to watch him in case he decided to turn traitor after all.
“Then you are dismissed.”
A stiff bow, a sharp turn, and her office was peaceful once more. Dora sighed and turned her chair around, looking through the large plate glass window that overlooked the city and beyond it, the rurs. Far in the distance, obscured by dust and summer haze, was the lake and the temple on its shores.
Yes, the temple was trouble, and it would be so much easier to destroy it. There were not so many people left who still prayed that she truly feared making martyrs of the priests. But the priests had something she needed, something ever so important hidden somewhere within the temple walls. Or perhaps somewhere beyond it, a place she could not yet reach. There was too much risk that she would lose it forever if she tried to destroy the priests.
She would have him back someday, though. And on that day the temple would fall.
kay_brookeStory: David/Cleaner
Colors: Admin Yellow #14 (I don't particularly like killing people, but I'm very good at it), Cinnabar #11 (reduce)
Styles/Supplies: Canvas, Charcoal, Pastels (for
origfic_bingo prompt "ordinary day")Word Count: 714
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply.
Summary: Just because you should doesn't mean you can.
Note: A piece I wrote for a prompt call last month, off a prompt from
aldersprig. Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.“Ms. President.”
“Yes, what is it?” Dora did not look up from her ledger. The middle of the week was always the busiest time, with every office in full swing and every bit of paperwork coming to her. She knew the man in the doorway—military man, a former general of the city army from when there had been a city army, now smoothly slotted into the Corporation's own military organization—knew that, and that he had pulled every favor he had to see her personally this day. She had every reason to mistrust a man who had so blithely turned against the society he was pledged to, but who would he betray her to? The rebels? The very idea was laughable.
He said he had something important to say, and there was no real reason why she should think he was lying. So she had agreed to hear him out.
“The temple is making trouble again.”
She dipped her quill in the inkpot and scribbled her signature. Saints, but she so desperately wanted to retrieve the ballpoint pen from her desk drawer. But she must not use foreign technology in front of those without the proper clearance level. All the more reason to hustle the military man along. “The temple is always making trouble. Do you have something new to add, or are you just here to waste my time?”
“That is precisely why I am here,” said the military man. “The temple has been nothing but a burr in our foot for a century now. My men and I have been talking. We understand the Corporation's reluctance to mount a full scale attack, given the potential for mass casualties, but we've drawn up a strategy that may mitigate that. If you'd allow me to--”
She held up one hand, and he, good soldier, immediately stopped talking. “If you believe our 'reluctance to attack,' as you put it, has anything to do with potential casualties, then you do not understand at all why we stay our hand.”
The military man frowned. “Then why? They help the rebels, you know. They supply them with food and sometimes shelter.”
Dora shrugged. “The rebels are of no concern to us. They are nothing but powerless brutes, scraping a living from dead soil and the spotty generosity of those who still hold on to religion. The temple's usefulness to us outweighs whatever help they provide the rebels.”
“Their usefulness?” The military man shook his head. “Ms. President, forgive me, but what exactly does the temple provide us?”
“It provides you and I nothing,” said Dora. “But there are those in the city, enough of them, who still believe. Destroying the temple could well swell the ranks of the rebels.”
“You said the rebels weren't a problem.”
“And I would like to keep it that way.” She curled her lip at the man. “The city army made you a general, really? You have precious little knowledge of how people work.”
“That wasn't my job,” said the military man stiffly.
“Clearly,” she said. “As to your purpose here, no, I will not hear your strategy. The temple is to be left alone. Do you understand?”
The military man nodded, but his sour look betrayed him. Dora made a mental note to assign someone to watch him in case he decided to turn traitor after all.
“Then you are dismissed.”
A stiff bow, a sharp turn, and her office was peaceful once more. Dora sighed and turned her chair around, looking through the large plate glass window that overlooked the city and beyond it, the rurs. Far in the distance, obscured by dust and summer haze, was the lake and the temple on its shores.
Yes, the temple was trouble, and it would be so much easier to destroy it. There were not so many people left who still prayed that she truly feared making martyrs of the priests. But the priests had something she needed, something ever so important hidden somewhere within the temple walls. Or perhaps somewhere beyond it, a place she could not yet reach. There was too much risk that she would lose it forever if she tried to destroy the priests.
She would have him back someday, though. And on that day the temple would fall.