Faith Drabbles
Apr. 26th, 2010 06:27 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
deird1Here are three different drabbles about Faith.
Random Acts Of Kindness
The first time she didn’t kill someone was during lunch.
She was tucking into her veal salad (what weird-ass people decided that veal salad was great prison food?) and this chick came over and started swearing at her. Loudly.
And she kept her cool, kept eating, until the bitch decided to get her attention by grabbing her arm.
She stood up, lost her temper, and was already halfway through pounding this dumb bitch’s face into pulp when it occurred to her that stopping might be a better idea.
She decided that it counted as her good deed of the day.
New Day
A man is only trapped if he allows his soul to be imprisoned. Live as if you are free, and free you shall become.
She’d been trapped for years.
The door shut behind her, and she looked around her new room: single bed, two blankets, three blank walls, and a fourth with bars for decoration.
Real spartan.
“Home, sweet home.”
Shame there wasn’t a tv or something. She’d cope.
Faith dropped onto the bed, took a deep breath, and slowly began to smile.
The prison record being the clean slate? A bit backwards, but that’s really how she saw it.
Dead British Men For All
“Can I have one too?”
Casey’s fifteen and technically shouldn’t be drinking beer, but Faith slides a bottle along the table towards her, opens her own, and takes several long, silent sips.
Just as Vi’s about to ask, she looks up and says, “My Watcher’s dead.”
“What? Giles-” Vi starts to stand.
“Nah. Giles is B’s Watcher. Mine was…” Faith’s eyes are far away. “Mine was stuffy, pretentious, bossy… controlling… wicked good with a shotgun… badass… sexy as hell…” She trails off.
“And he died?”
“Yeah.” Another long drink. “Went out fighting, at least. That’s something.”
Vi nods, remembering too.
Random Acts Of Kindness
The first time she didn’t kill someone was during lunch.
She was tucking into her veal salad (what weird-ass people decided that veal salad was great prison food?) and this chick came over and started swearing at her. Loudly.
And she kept her cool, kept eating, until the bitch decided to get her attention by grabbing her arm.
She stood up, lost her temper, and was already halfway through pounding this dumb bitch’s face into pulp when it occurred to her that stopping might be a better idea.
She decided that it counted as her good deed of the day.
New Day
A man is only trapped if he allows his soul to be imprisoned. Live as if you are free, and free you shall become.
She’d been trapped for years.
The door shut behind her, and she looked around her new room: single bed, two blankets, three blank walls, and a fourth with bars for decoration.
Real spartan.
“Home, sweet home.”
Shame there wasn’t a tv or something. She’d cope.
Faith dropped onto the bed, took a deep breath, and slowly began to smile.
The prison record being the clean slate? A bit backwards, but that’s really how she saw it.
Dead British Men For All
“Can I have one too?”
Casey’s fifteen and technically shouldn’t be drinking beer, but Faith slides a bottle along the table towards her, opens her own, and takes several long, silent sips.
Just as Vi’s about to ask, she looks up and says, “My Watcher’s dead.”
“What? Giles-” Vi starts to stand.
“Nah. Giles is B’s Watcher. Mine was…” Faith’s eyes are far away. “Mine was stuffy, pretentious, bossy… controlling… wicked good with a shotgun… badass… sexy as hell…” She trails off.
“And he died?”
“Yeah.” Another long drink. “Went out fighting, at least. That’s something.”
Vi nods, remembering too.