Five drabbles make a post, right?
Jun. 29th, 2009 09:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragovianknightFirst off, you should know this is all queenoftheskies fault. She claimed the springkink prompt Dragonquest VIII, Marcello/Eight: undeserved compassion - I think it'd be easier if you would just hate me , and she said, "I have $scenario; give me some ideas how it could have happened." And so, I started tossing out ideas, one of which was, "Angelo finally snapped and decided to kill Marcello."
And then the bunicorn which had snuck up behind me bit my ass. -__-
And then drabbles happened. (The draft from earlier now has the proper number of words.)
"I think it would be easier if you'd simply hate me."
"Who says I don't?"
"Your persistent dedication to keeping me alive, for one."
A brief silence, then, "That's not for you."
"For whom, then? Angelo?" Marcello laughed bitterly. "I doubt he'll thank you for thwarting his attempts on my life."
A longer silence, until Marcello thought his unwanted champion would not answer at all. "If you die, he won't be able to forgive himself, once he's back in his right mind."
"What makes you think he's not in his right mind now?"
This time, silence was his only answer.
Marcello's mood soured as they continued on toward Pickham, and didn't appreciably improve when they bypassed the town and continued west. He expected the bandit to be waiting for them when they finally reached their destination, but instead of the lovely Miss Albert he found himself confronted by a wild-haired, shrewd-eyed creature who looked him over longer than was really comfortable.
"This is 'oo all the fuss is about, then?" Her gaze swept over him again, and she sniffed. " 'ardly seems worth it."
Marcello smiled, sharp baring of teeth. "As I have oft been reminded, this isn't about me."
In the end, even Marcello was forced to admit none of this sounded like any sane version of his brother.
"He killed Jessica. She's all right," Eight hastened to add, as if Marcello could possibly care about the woman's fate, "but we thought it might be safer if she went into hiding and let Angelo think he'd succeeded."
"If Angelo killed," one of his many conquests, "someone he presumably cared for, what makes you think I can do you any good?"
Eight didn't seem to notice Marcello's hesitation mid-sentence. "You're his blood," he said seriously. "And you're all we've got."
"You certainly took your time getting here." Jessica's voice fairly froze the air around them; her gaze never wavered from the battle below.
"We couldn't use magic." Eight's voice was soft, nearly lost beneath the roar of the monster arena's crowd. "We had enough trouble keeping Angelo off our scent as it was."
"The longer this goes on, the more danger he's in," she said. "I will not lose him."
Eight moved closer; one hand rose in an abortive gesture of comfort. "No. We won't lose him, Jess."
Marcello watched silently, and wondered that his brother could inspire such loyalty.
The fever-bright glitter of Angelo's eyes spoke of madness, but something terribly calculating lurked behind it. Familiarity prickled Marcello's skin; he kept his gaze locked on Angelo's as much to divine the reason as from pride.
"Do they think fraternal loyalty will stay my hand?"
Marcello matched Angelo's conversational tone. "Foolish, when closer ties failed to save Jessica."
For an instant, Angelo's expression faltered, and Marcello realized he was looking at his brother for the first time in this confrontation. He continued, hoping his surprise didn't show in his voice. "But then, I doubt you bore her much affection. Rhapthorne."
Have some baaaaaby dragons:
queenoftheskies fault. She claimed the springkink prompt Dragonquest VIII, Marcello/Eight: undeserved compassion - I think it'd be easier if you would just hate me , and she said, "I have $scenario; give me some ideas how it could have happened." And so, I started tossing out ideas, one of which was, "Angelo finally snapped and decided to kill Marcello."And then the bunicorn which had snuck up behind me bit my ass. -__-
And then drabbles happened. (The draft from earlier now has the proper number of words.)
"I think it would be easier if you'd simply hate me."
"Who says I don't?"
"Your persistent dedication to keeping me alive, for one."
A brief silence, then, "That's not for you."
"For whom, then? Angelo?" Marcello laughed bitterly. "I doubt he'll thank you for thwarting his attempts on my life."
A longer silence, until Marcello thought his unwanted champion would not answer at all. "If you die, he won't be able to forgive himself, once he's back in his right mind."
"What makes you think he's not in his right mind now?"
This time, silence was his only answer.
Marcello's mood soured as they continued on toward Pickham, and didn't appreciably improve when they bypassed the town and continued west. He expected the bandit to be waiting for them when they finally reached their destination, but instead of the lovely Miss Albert he found himself confronted by a wild-haired, shrewd-eyed creature who looked him over longer than was really comfortable.
"This is 'oo all the fuss is about, then?" Her gaze swept over him again, and she sniffed. " 'ardly seems worth it."
Marcello smiled, sharp baring of teeth. "As I have oft been reminded, this isn't about me."
In the end, even Marcello was forced to admit none of this sounded like any sane version of his brother.
"He killed Jessica. She's all right," Eight hastened to add, as if Marcello could possibly care about the woman's fate, "but we thought it might be safer if she went into hiding and let Angelo think he'd succeeded."
"If Angelo killed," one of his many conquests, "someone he presumably cared for, what makes you think I can do you any good?"
Eight didn't seem to notice Marcello's hesitation mid-sentence. "You're his blood," he said seriously. "And you're all we've got."
"You certainly took your time getting here." Jessica's voice fairly froze the air around them; her gaze never wavered from the battle below.
"We couldn't use magic." Eight's voice was soft, nearly lost beneath the roar of the monster arena's crowd. "We had enough trouble keeping Angelo off our scent as it was."
"The longer this goes on, the more danger he's in," she said. "I will not lose him."
Eight moved closer; one hand rose in an abortive gesture of comfort. "No. We won't lose him, Jess."
Marcello watched silently, and wondered that his brother could inspire such loyalty.
The fever-bright glitter of Angelo's eyes spoke of madness, but something terribly calculating lurked behind it. Familiarity prickled Marcello's skin; he kept his gaze locked on Angelo's as much to divine the reason as from pride.
"Do they think fraternal loyalty will stay my hand?"
Marcello matched Angelo's conversational tone. "Foolish, when closer ties failed to save Jessica."
For an instant, Angelo's expression faltered, and Marcello realized he was looking at his brother for the first time in this confrontation. He continued, hoping his surprise didn't show in his voice. "But then, I doubt you bore her much affection. Rhapthorne."
Have some baaaaaby dragons:
