"The fucking hell he won't talk to me! Damnit, Mattie!" Alfred managed to smash his fist against the front doors a couple more times before being forcibly thrust from the yard. The heavy gates, though ill-accustomed to being closed, swung shut behind him and locked with a reverberating clash. He shouted himself hoarse, bashed his knuckles bloody against the iron, and even cut his palms trying to scale the damned rails before he gave up and collapsed into a little huddle of misery. Tears stung his eyes again and he wrapped his arms around his knees to form a place in which to bury his face.
It had taken several weeks of hitch-hiking to find the place. He was so used to their own private means of transportation that he had found difficulty in locating even the most usual of his haunts from a more public point of view. Increased security hadn't helped things at all.
It was pure, livid anger at the sneaky twist into which he had been coaxed which drove him for the next couple of months, and nothing else shown in his eyes for a long time but the outrage at being so betrayed. A mortal body he had, along with all the freedom which entailed from being relieved of his position as a country, but at what price? In his eagerness, he hadn't bothered to read the documents thoroughly before signing, but he would be damned if a simple trick of wording was going to trap him in a body doomed to self-destruct any time.
He had been approximately halfway to his destination when he had heard the news and watched in horror as the Towers, HIS towers, were smashed. Again and again and again. The blinding shock wouldn't leave his mind, and replayed itself every chance he had to sleep, mingled with the sealing of the Deal (It had come to justify a capital letter in his mind) and Canada's clearly erroneous assumption that he could do a better job with his country. For the first time in clear memory, it came to him just how far he had fallen into himself and how long it had been since he had thought of his duties with anything more than irritation and frustration.
The thing was, Matthew was unwilling to understand the mindset of a people not his own. And they called HIM, Alfred, arrogant. But... And the thought came to him that night as he camped unseen in the wooded area near the house into which he intended to find entry, he would change that. The perception of himself, that was. Mattie would do as he would, but he was going to take it back, all of it. Every horrible thing he had said, thought and done.
There was an empty hole in his soul and it drained the energy from him. His people were suffering, and it was his fault. Of course, he was their sum, but he hadn't been able rally and pull himself together, and so his people hadn't. Did that make sense? He wasn't sure, but it was something to think about as he shut his eyes to the stars and curled into a ball against the Canadian cold.
I love how both are beginning to regret their part of the Deal. And the trickiness of the Deal is just so that nobody comes out of it happy. The Devil's one tricky dick, isn't he?
I'm sorry I can't give you more constructive comments. This is just so very good. T.T I'm crying anon.
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America and Canada: Deal With The Devil Pt3
(Anonymous) 2010-10-10 07:24 pm (UTC)(link)It had taken several weeks of hitch-hiking to find the place. He was so used to their own private means of transportation that he had found difficulty in locating even the most usual of his haunts from a more public point of view. Increased security hadn't helped things at all.
It was pure, livid anger at the sneaky twist into which he had been coaxed which drove him for the next couple of months, and nothing else shown in his eyes for a long time but the outrage at being so betrayed. A mortal body he had, along with all the freedom which entailed from being relieved of his position as a country, but at what price? In his eagerness, he hadn't bothered to read the documents thoroughly before signing, but he would be damned if a simple trick of wording was going to trap him in a body doomed to self-destruct any time.
He had been approximately halfway to his destination when he had heard the news and watched in horror as the Towers, HIS towers, were smashed. Again and again and again. The blinding shock wouldn't leave his mind, and replayed itself every chance he had to sleep, mingled with the sealing of the Deal (It had come to justify a capital letter in his mind) and Canada's clearly erroneous assumption that he could do a better job with his country. For the first time in clear memory, it came to him just how far he had fallen into himself and how long it had been since he had thought of his duties with anything more than irritation and frustration.
The thing was, Matthew was unwilling to understand the mindset of a people not his own. And they called HIM, Alfred, arrogant. But... And the thought came to him that night as he camped unseen in the wooded area near the house into which he intended to find entry, he would change that. The perception of himself, that was. Mattie would do as he would, but he was going to take it back, all of it. Every horrible thing he had said, thought and done.
There was an empty hole in his soul and it drained the energy from him. His people were suffering, and it was his fault. Of course, he was their sum, but he hadn't been able rally and pull himself together, and so his people hadn't. Did that make sense? He wasn't sure, but it was something to think about as he shut his eyes to the stars and curled into a ball against the Canadian cold.
OP
(Anonymous) 2010-10-10 09:14 pm (UTC)(link)I'm sorry I can't give you more constructive comments. This is just so very good. T.T I'm crying anon.
WriterAnon
(Anonymous) 2010-10-11 02:24 pm (UTC)(link)