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"What do you mean, they aren't there?" Control, control. Force down the panic inside, don't let your feelings influence your voice, your actions. Don't let it show, for God's sakes.
As you listen again as the words come over the Bluetooth headset. Your hands are flying furiously over the keyboard and your thoughts are whirling in panic as you struggle to change the pattern, to somehow turn defeat to stalemate if not victory. Reports are coming in from the surveillance systems now, each teams' voices drowning the other over the shortwave radios they carry as they search through darkness to find their elusive prey.
It was an act born of desperation, a last ditch effort to remain on top. You felt like the rat in a trap, slowly being cornered and caged, forced into decisions that you'd never made otherwise. Damn them, they would never have done this to him! But then, he would never have allowed them to. He had the strength, he had the power. He had the determination. And yes, he had that spark of insanity, that spark of genius and madman that kept everyone, even you off balance.
But that was then. And what are you without him? It's not that you are a woman in a man's world, oh no. You are a human among vampires, a decorative little kitten among animals so much larger and fierce. And the threats, when they first came were disguised as offers of sympathy, of understanding and shelter. Make this one king over all, and you will be rewarded with money, with riches. Give that one the title and receive fame among the dark ones, fame and power and safety from your enemies, his enemies.
But it changed, did it not? It changed when you tried to keep it all together as he would have done. You tried to keep his empire in one piece, a monument to his memory. You struggled, and plotted, you manipulated and deceived, until there were only a few pieces left on the chessboard. The white queen in your corner of the game, the white queen and what few defenders gathered around you, and their strange undead loyalty. The few of you poised against a collection of black kings and their knights, their crimson bishops and their bloody pawns.
As the game turned against you, so did the offers of plenty fade away to be replaced by covert threats, and then overt ones as well. Your enemies no longer bothered to disguise their disdain with nods of respect. Politeness was replaced by thinly-veiled discourtesy, and then discourtesy unveiled by even the most minimal part of respect. In a moment you went from one of the players to one of the prey, hunted by both your enemies and his, haunted by the dark specter or failure during your waking hours. And haunted in your dreams by the one love you cannot let go, the one man who is more real in your dreams than this anxious, trapped reality you now inhabit.
And finally, as you knew they would, they made their latest bidding. Not couched as an offer, not even a threat. No, it came as a demand - submit yourself to them, for their rule. Turn over your knowledge, your hard work, turn over your finely guarded secrets, and worse yet? Bare your throat to the decision of others. No longer are you the one with the power to give, you have become naught more than one of many prizes that they will award to one of their own now. Your master is dead, your mark discredited, now to be replaced with that of another. Your life and freedom, your body and blood itself to be subjugated to the desires of others, your feelings and desires insignificant in light of their fractured future plans.
No one to go to, no one can help. You think back upon that one night so long ago, to that man, the human one. The one time you let your heart lighten up in the midst of your mourning. That evening long ago when you entertained a man and the morning after when you dined with him in sunlight and laughter. It all seems so far away now. He offered to help, but what could he do for you now? You have fallen so deep you fear his arms could not reach to lift you back to safety. Better not to involve him at all, better to do this alone.
And so you did it. After the plotting and plans, after the spying and the research you send your men against the lair of your enemies, to burn and destroy, to kill and leave none left to tell the tale of your deceit. But somehow it went wrong, somewhere you overlooked the most insignificant detail, and they caught wind of your plans. A spy within your own ranks perhaps? It could have been anything, it could have been nothing. It could simply have been their own paranoid defense preparations, but the fact remains as you type messages and tell your troops to set fire to the compound, raze the buildings and leave no wall standing. You may have found their castles little human, you may have even found some of the pawns. Bbut you did not find the bishops, the knights, or the collection of kings. And worse yet, you have tipped your hand, and shown your decision in view of all. The decision to fight, to kill. And ultimately to die.
And of all your plans and plots for destruction, this level of failure simply did not occur to you. Can you now use denial, can you lie and say that you knew nothing? That it was the hunters - all the fault of his mortal enemies, and yours, and theirs as well? The humans fault, the fault of the cattle rioting against their masters perhaps?
That you were the human in charge you will deny, and deny some more. And they can't tell, they who are so arrogant, so superior. They will not even summon you until after countless meetings and discussions have taken place. It's just the way they are. Your response will be a written one, couched full of sympathetic lies and promises to assist in destroying their newest threat to their very existence.
Lucky for you memo's and email's don't have cheeks to blush or hearts to beat faster. Typed paper shows no sign of fright, no tell-tale subtle sign to give away your true thoughts and feelings. And in the end if you play your cards right; when you do see them face to face? If there has been enough time, enough treachery, enough verbal sparring between themselves combined with all the double dealing, the dirty dealing you throw up in their way? They will be convinced, they will have to be convinced that it was one of their own leveling the playing field. Never could a human have orchestrated such a hunt, at least not without prior permission or approval from someone. So you may have bought yourself an extra day, an extra week perhaps. Enough time to plot and plan, to deceive and lie and manipulate a little more. But not enough time to run. Never that. Not from this, your world, his legacy. Your future.
Back to the moment. Keep steady, keep your voice calm as you call your men back to you, instructing them to set fire to one of your own business's along the way. Don't let them hear how nervous you are. They can't hear how rapidly your heart is beating, but they can hear the hitch in your voice if you allow it. Let no one know that you believed this to be anything other than than what you had in mind all along. Stay in control, stay cold. Stay in control, and stay alive.
Name: Pepper
Fandom: OC/Blade Verse
Words: 1396
Posted to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
tenebrae_nostro
As you listen again as the words come over the Bluetooth headset. Your hands are flying furiously over the keyboard and your thoughts are whirling in panic as you struggle to change the pattern, to somehow turn defeat to stalemate if not victory. Reports are coming in from the surveillance systems now, each teams' voices drowning the other over the shortwave radios they carry as they search through darkness to find their elusive prey.
It was an act born of desperation, a last ditch effort to remain on top. You felt like the rat in a trap, slowly being cornered and caged, forced into decisions that you'd never made otherwise. Damn them, they would never have done this to him! But then, he would never have allowed them to. He had the strength, he had the power. He had the determination. And yes, he had that spark of insanity, that spark of genius and madman that kept everyone, even you off balance.
But that was then. And what are you without him? It's not that you are a woman in a man's world, oh no. You are a human among vampires, a decorative little kitten among animals so much larger and fierce. And the threats, when they first came were disguised as offers of sympathy, of understanding and shelter. Make this one king over all, and you will be rewarded with money, with riches. Give that one the title and receive fame among the dark ones, fame and power and safety from your enemies, his enemies.
But it changed, did it not? It changed when you tried to keep it all together as he would have done. You tried to keep his empire in one piece, a monument to his memory. You struggled, and plotted, you manipulated and deceived, until there were only a few pieces left on the chessboard. The white queen in your corner of the game, the white queen and what few defenders gathered around you, and their strange undead loyalty. The few of you poised against a collection of black kings and their knights, their crimson bishops and their bloody pawns.
As the game turned against you, so did the offers of plenty fade away to be replaced by covert threats, and then overt ones as well. Your enemies no longer bothered to disguise their disdain with nods of respect. Politeness was replaced by thinly-veiled discourtesy, and then discourtesy unveiled by even the most minimal part of respect. In a moment you went from one of the players to one of the prey, hunted by both your enemies and his, haunted by the dark specter or failure during your waking hours. And haunted in your dreams by the one love you cannot let go, the one man who is more real in your dreams than this anxious, trapped reality you now inhabit.
And finally, as you knew they would, they made their latest bidding. Not couched as an offer, not even a threat. No, it came as a demand - submit yourself to them, for their rule. Turn over your knowledge, your hard work, turn over your finely guarded secrets, and worse yet? Bare your throat to the decision of others. No longer are you the one with the power to give, you have become naught more than one of many prizes that they will award to one of their own now. Your master is dead, your mark discredited, now to be replaced with that of another. Your life and freedom, your body and blood itself to be subjugated to the desires of others, your feelings and desires insignificant in light of their fractured future plans.
No one to go to, no one can help. You think back upon that one night so long ago, to that man, the human one. The one time you let your heart lighten up in the midst of your mourning. That evening long ago when you entertained a man and the morning after when you dined with him in sunlight and laughter. It all seems so far away now. He offered to help, but what could he do for you now? You have fallen so deep you fear his arms could not reach to lift you back to safety. Better not to involve him at all, better to do this alone.
And so you did it. After the plotting and plans, after the spying and the research you send your men against the lair of your enemies, to burn and destroy, to kill and leave none left to tell the tale of your deceit. But somehow it went wrong, somewhere you overlooked the most insignificant detail, and they caught wind of your plans. A spy within your own ranks perhaps? It could have been anything, it could have been nothing. It could simply have been their own paranoid defense preparations, but the fact remains as you type messages and tell your troops to set fire to the compound, raze the buildings and leave no wall standing. You may have found their castles little human, you may have even found some of the pawns. Bbut you did not find the bishops, the knights, or the collection of kings. And worse yet, you have tipped your hand, and shown your decision in view of all. The decision to fight, to kill. And ultimately to die.
And of all your plans and plots for destruction, this level of failure simply did not occur to you. Can you now use denial, can you lie and say that you knew nothing? That it was the hunters - all the fault of his mortal enemies, and yours, and theirs as well? The humans fault, the fault of the cattle rioting against their masters perhaps?
That you were the human in charge you will deny, and deny some more. And they can't tell, they who are so arrogant, so superior. They will not even summon you until after countless meetings and discussions have taken place. It's just the way they are. Your response will be a written one, couched full of sympathetic lies and promises to assist in destroying their newest threat to their very existence.
Lucky for you memo's and email's don't have cheeks to blush or hearts to beat faster. Typed paper shows no sign of fright, no tell-tale subtle sign to give away your true thoughts and feelings. And in the end if you play your cards right; when you do see them face to face? If there has been enough time, enough treachery, enough verbal sparring between themselves combined with all the double dealing, the dirty dealing you throw up in their way? They will be convinced, they will have to be convinced that it was one of their own leveling the playing field. Never could a human have orchestrated such a hunt, at least not without prior permission or approval from someone. So you may have bought yourself an extra day, an extra week perhaps. Enough time to plot and plan, to deceive and lie and manipulate a little more. But not enough time to run. Never that. Not from this, your world, his legacy. Your future.
Back to the moment. Keep steady, keep your voice calm as you call your men back to you, instructing them to set fire to one of your own business's along the way. Don't let them hear how nervous you are. They can't hear how rapidly your heart is beating, but they can hear the hitch in your voice if you allow it. Let no one know that you believed this to be anything other than than what you had in mind all along. Stay in control, stay cold. Stay in control, and stay alive.
Name: Pepper
Fandom: OC/Blade Verse
Words: 1396
Posted to
tenebrae_nostro
