Duels and Repercussions (March challenge)
Mar. 22nd, 2011 01:08 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
spydacarnage.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
writing_shadowsSome evenings at court can be a little, shall we say, drawn out. Surrounded by those who still cling to their roots, content to stay confined by that which they were born into. The conversations dancing between the sex lives of fictional characters on the television, the latest contestants on X-Factor, and other slightly less important matters, such as the size of other citizens’ genitals. This night was not one of those nights. From the point of first contact between Mr Hawkins and Mr Freeman, it seemed inevitable that violence would ensue. Violence is always the answer amongst the rabble.
Mr Jack Hawkins. Apparently ‘The Man’. Apparently a man of extreme sexual acumen, although certainly not something I ever intended on following up. There are times when confidence can be your ally. This, I believe, was not one of those occasions. Although nobody really knows what was going through the limited mind of Mr Hawkins as he attempted to intimidate and cajole his opponent. Was it truly confidence, or was it an elaborate and fragile cover for his fear?
The duel was set; the rules agreed upon and the venue arranged. This was to be nothing less than a bloodbath. These two men, while agreeing to spare the other in return for la bienfait de vie – the Boon of Life, held deep hatred against the other. Both held the other accountable for death and destruction. I could not see this ending any way other than death for one of these kindred, and while death is never something to take lightly, it could be said that the Domain of Cambridge would struggle to lose this night.
No more needing to listen to the overly vocal tirades of a man who would demean women by his very presence; make light of achieving adulthood with kindred society, yet remaining a member of the Movement; a man who would argue with his betters purely because he is too intellectually challenged to understand the nuances of the debate.
Mr Perseus Freeman. Not somebody I have met before, so an unknown quality in the duel. He performed well, against the sheer size of his adversary, proving once again that the larger they are, the more ash they create when destroyed. Except, of course, the stipulation against death. While, had somebody stood in his defence, it may have been argued that his actions were not truly his own, having succumbed to the savagery of his Beast, ignorance should never be used as an excuse.
The trial was merely a formality, the decision made. Extradition back to Amsterdam, the scene of Mr Freeman’s previous gruesome crimes which he had, up until now, escaped punishment. It seems Mr Hawkins performed his duty as Sheriff well – he managed to secure the torpored body of a criminal against his Domain. A simple telephone call to Prince Simanti sealed the fate of Mr Freeman, and no doubt further improving the diplomatic relations with that not-so-distant land.
All-in-all, a good evening, one which even I could not have written so well.
Mr Jack Hawkins. Apparently ‘The Man’. Apparently a man of extreme sexual acumen, although certainly not something I ever intended on following up. There are times when confidence can be your ally. This, I believe, was not one of those occasions. Although nobody really knows what was going through the limited mind of Mr Hawkins as he attempted to intimidate and cajole his opponent. Was it truly confidence, or was it an elaborate and fragile cover for his fear?
The duel was set; the rules agreed upon and the venue arranged. This was to be nothing less than a bloodbath. These two men, while agreeing to spare the other in return for la bienfait de vie – the Boon of Life, held deep hatred against the other. Both held the other accountable for death and destruction. I could not see this ending any way other than death for one of these kindred, and while death is never something to take lightly, it could be said that the Domain of Cambridge would struggle to lose this night.
No more needing to listen to the overly vocal tirades of a man who would demean women by his very presence; make light of achieving adulthood with kindred society, yet remaining a member of the Movement; a man who would argue with his betters purely because he is too intellectually challenged to understand the nuances of the debate.
Mr Perseus Freeman. Not somebody I have met before, so an unknown quality in the duel. He performed well, against the sheer size of his adversary, proving once again that the larger they are, the more ash they create when destroyed. Except, of course, the stipulation against death. While, had somebody stood in his defence, it may have been argued that his actions were not truly his own, having succumbed to the savagery of his Beast, ignorance should never be used as an excuse.
The trial was merely a formality, the decision made. Extradition back to Amsterdam, the scene of Mr Freeman’s previous gruesome crimes which he had, up until now, escaped punishment. It seems Mr Hawkins performed his duty as Sheriff well – he managed to secure the torpored body of a criminal against his Domain. A simple telephone call to Prince Simanti sealed the fate of Mr Freeman, and no doubt further improving the diplomatic relations with that not-so-distant land.
All-in-all, a good evening, one which even I could not have written so well.
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Date: 2011-03-22 09:13 am (UTC)Thank you for another take on this.
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Date: 2011-03-22 09:27 am (UTC)But yes, he can be a meanie pants... :-)