Seven Virtues
Sep. 20th, 2003 10:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
doyleFor the seven virtues challenge - who started that again? I thought it was ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nestra but I could be wrong... Seven 100-word drabbles. No Angel or Wes - I suspect they need seven drabbles each...
Charity - Cordelia
While she's filing, Cordelia makes a mental list of reasons why Doyle is a big loser. Number one has to be the clothes. That relegates 'poverty' and 'height' to places two and three. So far she hasn't seen signs of rampant geekery, but since he's Xander Harris's soulmate in every other respect, she's sure it's only a matter of time.
There's only one possible reason why she could be considering going out with the guy. Answering the phone all day with the firm's new slogan has probably made her brain attuned to wanting to help the hopeless.
That's all.
Really.
Faith - Kate
Kate misses being a cop; it's so tied up with her memories of her father that she mourns them together. But she's alive, and things are getting better.
She sometimes thinks about Angel, and how he saved her when the mystical laws she doesn't really understand say he should have been trapped outside the door. Her dad wasn't religious, and she knows he'd heap scorn on the idea that he was watching over her that night as she got ready to die, but it makes her happy to believe it. Maybe, she's starting to realise, that's why anyone believes anything.
Justice - Holtz
Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord.
Daniel Holtz is an educated man. He recognises that he has been tested, as the Lord tested his servant Job, and he has been found wanting. Strange that the monster before him should be, in his way, an instrument of God.
He watches Angelus slowly turn to face him, cradling his son as the rain drenches them all and washes the ashes of the creature Darla into the gutters. Holtz lowers the crossbow, and he thinks of the scriptures, and their words on justice.
An eye for an eye. A son for a son.
Prudence - Lindsey
He guesses he should start thinking about getting another job. The money he makes singing in rundown bars covers his gas; occasionally gives him a night in a motel instead of the truck. Heaven help him if the guitar ever gets stolen.
Something in him, though, balks at the idea of wearing a suit and sitting behind a desk again. He's not sure what this wanderlust is, because he's far too old for adolescent rebellion and far too young for a midlife crisis, but there's not money in the world could rival the open road or the desert at night.
Fortitude - Fred
After the first few years, her memory becomes selective. She remembers the Dirac equation and spontaneous symmetry breakdown and the lepton KCM matrix. She forgets the faces of her parents and being able to buy food whenever she liked and the feel of sleeping on a mattress, because if she thinks of those things then she remembers that that world was real and not just the silly dream of a slave-cow. She will lose every bit of strength she has managed to gather, and she will keep breaking until there's nothing left.
In her cave, Fred forgets, and she endures.
Hope - Lilah
The first week after her 'transfer', Holland Manners gives her a name-plaque with "no rest for the wicked" in gold calligraphy beneath her name. She grits her teeth and smiles sweetly.
The job's not so bad. Hell's not a lot different from Los Angeles, though there's less pollution. Even the knowledge that she's in this for eternity wouldn't be terrible, except there's always this tiny thought at the back of her head: Wes will find a way around the contract. He'll get me out.
Hell may not have literal fires, but that spark of hope burns her, just the same.
Temperance - Connor
He opens his eyes blearily, and has to blink a few times before the fuzzy blur resolves into his roommate. "Nyuhhh," he mumbles.
"Hey, are you okay?"
It takes a second for the thought to penetrate his hungover brain - Danny looks worried, which never happens. Nobody who smokes that much weed worries.
His friend rocks back on his heels. "You were acting weird, man. Kept saying your name was… I dunno, Calvin or something, and you were gonna kill your dad." Looks him over warily. "You really freaked us out."
Steven doesn't touch alcohol for the rest of the year.
nestra but I could be wrong... Seven 100-word drabbles. No Angel or Wes - I suspect they need seven drabbles each...Charity - Cordelia
While she's filing, Cordelia makes a mental list of reasons why Doyle is a big loser. Number one has to be the clothes. That relegates 'poverty' and 'height' to places two and three. So far she hasn't seen signs of rampant geekery, but since he's Xander Harris's soulmate in every other respect, she's sure it's only a matter of time.
There's only one possible reason why she could be considering going out with the guy. Answering the phone all day with the firm's new slogan has probably made her brain attuned to wanting to help the hopeless.
That's all.
Really.
Faith - Kate
Kate misses being a cop; it's so tied up with her memories of her father that she mourns them together. But she's alive, and things are getting better.
She sometimes thinks about Angel, and how he saved her when the mystical laws she doesn't really understand say he should have been trapped outside the door. Her dad wasn't religious, and she knows he'd heap scorn on the idea that he was watching over her that night as she got ready to die, but it makes her happy to believe it. Maybe, she's starting to realise, that's why anyone believes anything.
Justice - Holtz
Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord.
Daniel Holtz is an educated man. He recognises that he has been tested, as the Lord tested his servant Job, and he has been found wanting. Strange that the monster before him should be, in his way, an instrument of God.
He watches Angelus slowly turn to face him, cradling his son as the rain drenches them all and washes the ashes of the creature Darla into the gutters. Holtz lowers the crossbow, and he thinks of the scriptures, and their words on justice.
An eye for an eye. A son for a son.
Prudence - Lindsey
He guesses he should start thinking about getting another job. The money he makes singing in rundown bars covers his gas; occasionally gives him a night in a motel instead of the truck. Heaven help him if the guitar ever gets stolen.
Something in him, though, balks at the idea of wearing a suit and sitting behind a desk again. He's not sure what this wanderlust is, because he's far too old for adolescent rebellion and far too young for a midlife crisis, but there's not money in the world could rival the open road or the desert at night.
Fortitude - Fred
After the first few years, her memory becomes selective. She remembers the Dirac equation and spontaneous symmetry breakdown and the lepton KCM matrix. She forgets the faces of her parents and being able to buy food whenever she liked and the feel of sleeping on a mattress, because if she thinks of those things then she remembers that that world was real and not just the silly dream of a slave-cow. She will lose every bit of strength she has managed to gather, and she will keep breaking until there's nothing left.
In her cave, Fred forgets, and she endures.
Hope - Lilah
The first week after her 'transfer', Holland Manners gives her a name-plaque with "no rest for the wicked" in gold calligraphy beneath her name. She grits her teeth and smiles sweetly.
The job's not so bad. Hell's not a lot different from Los Angeles, though there's less pollution. Even the knowledge that she's in this for eternity wouldn't be terrible, except there's always this tiny thought at the back of her head: Wes will find a way around the contract. He'll get me out.
Hell may not have literal fires, but that spark of hope burns her, just the same.
Temperance - Connor
He opens his eyes blearily, and has to blink a few times before the fuzzy blur resolves into his roommate. "Nyuhhh," he mumbles.
"Hey, are you okay?"
It takes a second for the thought to penetrate his hungover brain - Danny looks worried, which never happens. Nobody who smokes that much weed worries.
His friend rocks back on his heels. "You were acting weird, man. Kept saying your name was… I dunno, Calvin or something, and you were gonna kill your dad." Looks him over warily. "You really freaked us out."
Steven doesn't touch alcohol for the rest of the year.
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no subject
on 2003-09-20 04:14 pm (UTC)