lil-rebbitzen (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lil_rebbitzen) wrote2010-01-20 07:49 pm
lil_rebbitzen) wrote2010-01-20 07:49 pm
Entry tags:
Twisted Soul (Oneshot)
Whoa, I wrote a oneshot? Wow, I haven't done that in awhile!
For some reason, my brain stuck some pattern in there... O_o
Kudos to Wordsnatcher for inspiring the age-progression thing!
Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
83. Twist
Characters: Unnamed couple, Madame Boss, a couple of others
Word count: 1205
Genre: Drama/History-fic
Rating: PG-13, I suppose
The sun paints the sky in vivid orange as it climbs the sky, and the little seven-year-old girl wakes up when the light rests on her eyes. It doesn't wake her new friend, though, as he sleeps quietly on the other couch in the living room, muttering every now and then in his sleep, perhaps calling out attacks in a faraway dream, and she crawls out of the covers to go watch the sunrise. The sunlight streams through the fluffy clouds, piercing through and colouring them brilliantly. She jumps as he yells something in his sleep, pointing in a random direction, and smiles when his arm flops back down and he calms. Her new friend can be so silly sometimes, she thinks happily, and goes back to watching the sunrise, now blending into the ever lightening blue sky, and the hope of a new day, full of learning and joy.
To her, this new world holds so much promise.
The steely blues and bloody reds of the sunset slowly fade into the navy night as the ten-year-old girl and her friend sit beside their first campfire on the first day of their journey. They're exhausted from their hike, but it is a good exhaustion, one filled with the pride of a new start. She remembers not long ago she made a new start when she met her best friend, her only friend in this strange new world she had found herself in. As strange and cruel as this new world can be, though, she finds the world and the culture so fascinating; her friend jokes that she could see the good in even the darkest of times, and she laughs. Why shouldn't she try to find the good in people, in situations, in this new era of her life?
To them, this world is so very beautiful.
The fourteen-year-old young lady watches the sunrise through the hospital blinds as she sits up in the bed, holding a small child close to her breast. He sleeps soundly, like her friend in the chair in the corner, and even though she knows she can't take care of the little one, both because she is far too young, and because he is a painful reminder of being attacked nine or so months ago, she wishes for a moment that she could watch him grow up. Perhaps if she had been older, she thinks. She shakes her head somberly, kissing him on the forehead. Even through the darkness, this beautiful child makes her smile, see a bit of hope in the world again.
Holding him, this world seems pretty again.
The sun ducks under the horizon as they stand on the battlefield, flames and smoke surrounding them, the rancid smell of blood and death fresh on the air. They're all of eighteen, and already they're having to take lives in order to preserve their own. Their friends sit beside them, finally taking a break from the defense of their base. She bandages her husband's arm where a bullet grazed it, broke the skin enough to cause bleeding, and he smiles sadly, apologizing for the honeymoon so far; she laughs with a similar melancholy, saying that she'd rather be beside him on a battlefield than safe by herself. But as she kisses him gently on the head, she wonders how many more they'll have to kill in order to live.
To her, this pretty world is tainted by the flames surrounding them.
The twenty-one-year old shields her eyes from the bright sun as it comes up, coloring the sky the red of the blood on her knife, the crimson of the pools and bodies behind her. She hates not being able to watch the sunrise with her husband, hates having to kill because of her missions from his mother, this “Madame Boss” who makes their life a living hell. She threatens to kill him, kill their little daughter if his wife does not kill her enemies, business and personal; she forces the young woman with that and by dominating her, doing her best to break her will. It never quite works, but it does make the pain she feels that much more potent, makes the killings more meaningful, each one twisting her soul. Even though she knows they're so close to being out of her grasp -only a few more months-, it feels like an eternity of servitude.
To her, this world seems so very dark.
She can't see the sunset outside as she picks up her implements, leaves the room for the specialists to clean; the scent of blood from the torture rises into her nostrils, but she's become accustomed to the smell of iron and decay. She's maybe thirty-three now, and the last three years have hardened her to anything other than her family- perhaps had his mother not harmed him so grievously, had his father not disappeared mysteriously afterward, she might be a normal woman, if a bit cynical at times. Her husband heads what is quickly becoming the largest crime organization in Japan now, and she is his right-hand, the one who not only takes care of their family, but the one who he counts on for support in everything, the woman who takes out, or orders her men to take out, the occasional threat to their family or the organization. She's more than happy to kill the bastards who threaten her family, more than happy to drive the police crazy when they find a body on the side of the road with no trace of the killer. Then, with beauty and grace, their family blends effortlessly into the upper ranks of society, seemingly normal citizens, but with every event and outing, her violet eyes always scan the crowds for enemies, see the little mannerisms that give away a 'friend' as a hostile, marks them down as not to be trusted, or, if it was a true threat, to be taken out quietly.
Because to her, as long as she could keep her family safe,
the rest of this world could burn in hellfire.
The sun paints the sky in vivid orange as it climbs the sky, and the couple, now forty-three, hold their beautiful new triplets in their arms in the Israeli hospital. Both of them laugh happily, not having felt such joy in a very long time; their Rosy, the quadruplets, Silver, Jenni, and Lilly, as well as Domino and her and Junior's little boy, crowd into the room, all excited to see their new siblings. The couple have changed in the past few years, when her husband had rescued her and Silver from an old enemy, and slowly the anger in their hearts had started to melt as they realized that they could no longer bring a family up in such darkness. Their grandson, nicknamed 'Van', had tipped the scale, and they slowly start to become people who have decided to live and love despite the hell that life has given them at times. As the couple stares into the precious little eyes of their new, and final, children, they once again see life and light that pierces the darkness in their hearts, and they smile.
Once again, they find this world beautiful.
For some reason, my brain stuck some pattern in there... O_o
Kudos to Wordsnatcher for inspiring the age-progression thing!
Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
83. Twist
Characters: Unnamed couple, Madame Boss, a couple of others
Word count: 1205
Genre: Drama/History-fic
Rating: PG-13, I suppose
The sun paints the sky in vivid orange as it climbs the sky, and the little seven-year-old girl wakes up when the light rests on her eyes. It doesn't wake her new friend, though, as he sleeps quietly on the other couch in the living room, muttering every now and then in his sleep, perhaps calling out attacks in a faraway dream, and she crawls out of the covers to go watch the sunrise. The sunlight streams through the fluffy clouds, piercing through and colouring them brilliantly. She jumps as he yells something in his sleep, pointing in a random direction, and smiles when his arm flops back down and he calms. Her new friend can be so silly sometimes, she thinks happily, and goes back to watching the sunrise, now blending into the ever lightening blue sky, and the hope of a new day, full of learning and joy.
To her, this new world holds so much promise.
The steely blues and bloody reds of the sunset slowly fade into the navy night as the ten-year-old girl and her friend sit beside their first campfire on the first day of their journey. They're exhausted from their hike, but it is a good exhaustion, one filled with the pride of a new start. She remembers not long ago she made a new start when she met her best friend, her only friend in this strange new world she had found herself in. As strange and cruel as this new world can be, though, she finds the world and the culture so fascinating; her friend jokes that she could see the good in even the darkest of times, and she laughs. Why shouldn't she try to find the good in people, in situations, in this new era of her life?
To them, this world is so very beautiful.
The fourteen-year-old young lady watches the sunrise through the hospital blinds as she sits up in the bed, holding a small child close to her breast. He sleeps soundly, like her friend in the chair in the corner, and even though she knows she can't take care of the little one, both because she is far too young, and because he is a painful reminder of being attacked nine or so months ago, she wishes for a moment that she could watch him grow up. Perhaps if she had been older, she thinks. She shakes her head somberly, kissing him on the forehead. Even through the darkness, this beautiful child makes her smile, see a bit of hope in the world again.
Holding him, this world seems pretty again.
The sun ducks under the horizon as they stand on the battlefield, flames and smoke surrounding them, the rancid smell of blood and death fresh on the air. They're all of eighteen, and already they're having to take lives in order to preserve their own. Their friends sit beside them, finally taking a break from the defense of their base. She bandages her husband's arm where a bullet grazed it, broke the skin enough to cause bleeding, and he smiles sadly, apologizing for the honeymoon so far; she laughs with a similar melancholy, saying that she'd rather be beside him on a battlefield than safe by herself. But as she kisses him gently on the head, she wonders how many more they'll have to kill in order to live.
To her, this pretty world is tainted by the flames surrounding them.
The twenty-one-year old shields her eyes from the bright sun as it comes up, coloring the sky the red of the blood on her knife, the crimson of the pools and bodies behind her. She hates not being able to watch the sunrise with her husband, hates having to kill because of her missions from his mother, this “Madame Boss” who makes their life a living hell. She threatens to kill him, kill their little daughter if his wife does not kill her enemies, business and personal; she forces the young woman with that and by dominating her, doing her best to break her will. It never quite works, but it does make the pain she feels that much more potent, makes the killings more meaningful, each one twisting her soul. Even though she knows they're so close to being out of her grasp -only a few more months-, it feels like an eternity of servitude.
To her, this world seems so very dark.
She can't see the sunset outside as she picks up her implements, leaves the room for the specialists to clean; the scent of blood from the torture rises into her nostrils, but she's become accustomed to the smell of iron and decay. She's maybe thirty-three now, and the last three years have hardened her to anything other than her family- perhaps had his mother not harmed him so grievously, had his father not disappeared mysteriously afterward, she might be a normal woman, if a bit cynical at times. Her husband heads what is quickly becoming the largest crime organization in Japan now, and she is his right-hand, the one who not only takes care of their family, but the one who he counts on for support in everything, the woman who takes out, or orders her men to take out, the occasional threat to their family or the organization. She's more than happy to kill the bastards who threaten her family, more than happy to drive the police crazy when they find a body on the side of the road with no trace of the killer. Then, with beauty and grace, their family blends effortlessly into the upper ranks of society, seemingly normal citizens, but with every event and outing, her violet eyes always scan the crowds for enemies, see the little mannerisms that give away a 'friend' as a hostile, marks them down as not to be trusted, or, if it was a true threat, to be taken out quietly.
Because to her, as long as she could keep her family safe,
the rest of this world could burn in hellfire.
The sun paints the sky in vivid orange as it climbs the sky, and the couple, now forty-three, hold their beautiful new triplets in their arms in the Israeli hospital. Both of them laugh happily, not having felt such joy in a very long time; their Rosy, the quadruplets, Silver, Jenni, and Lilly, as well as Domino and her and Junior's little boy, crowd into the room, all excited to see their new siblings. The couple have changed in the past few years, when her husband had rescued her and Silver from an old enemy, and slowly the anger in their hearts had started to melt as they realized that they could no longer bring a family up in such darkness. Their grandson, nicknamed 'Van', had tipped the scale, and they slowly start to become people who have decided to live and love despite the hell that life has given them at times. As the couple stares into the precious little eyes of their new, and final, children, they once again see life and light that pierces the darkness in their hearts, and they smile.
Once again, they find this world beautiful.
no subject
no seriously. you know my love of age progression fic ;]
i just adore the whole concept of G & S being corrupted by the evils of the world but still managing to find peace of mind in the end~~
very nice, my dear! :D
no subject
Thank you!
Yeah, my mind made it more convulted than I figured it would be, though, by adding in more stuff, like a pattern.
In case you want to know, it's
Sun
Five sentences
Viewpoint
For no real reason. O_o
And dammit, I was going to say something else, but I forgot...
And my brain did this without telling me...
no subject
spy pen
(Anonymous) 2011-12-16 12:22 pm (UTC)(link)