Lily
21st July 2006, 8:50 PM
'sbeen a while.
Longest one shot I have ever written. A bit longer than usual, so I divided it into three parts, which..doesn't really make it a one shot, does it? Ah, well. Reviews/constructive criticism will be appreciated. Please do so! ^__^
Trinity
Part One – Sins
"That's funny. I swear I didn't see anyone before," Azazel muttered, frowning.
There was something odd about the way he said those words. The men simply did not understand why. Azazel heeded none of the confusion and steadily kept his gaze on one particular destination. Beneath the descending rows of amethyst hills, cluttered with golden stalks and hiding just between the stems of wild lilies, Azazel saw only one thing.
For weary men, this was haven. Their tired bodies basked in the sunlight and jaded souls were finally relieved of the everlasting burden. Even now, as the sun teetered on the brink of tomorrow, they could envision no other beauty then the ethereal presence of nature's invisible paintbrush and palette.
"You're seeing things again, Captain," one of them murmured placidly, stretched out in the warm grass. Despite his bulky exterior, it was so soft and feathery...
"So tired," the other yawned, promptly closing his eyes out of pure lack of sleep.
Azazel scoffed at the pleasant atmosphere's toll, bestowing his men such languid moods. They were weak and foolish. If not for him, Azazel knew they'd never offer bullets to victims, never fabricate proper assassination plans, and definitely reject all forms of death. It wasn't necessary killing, Azazel had argued, it was justice! Of course, comprehension failed to dawn until he executed the action in front of their very eyes, possibly scarring their much too inexperienced minds. Azazel shook his head in disgust.
They were an utter disgrace to Team Rocket.
"Meet me there," Azazel ordered curtly, pointing at that one specific destination. They might have heard him. They might have not. Whatever indication of their attention was briefly conveyed through subtle movements of the head, before slumber inevitably consumed the remnants of consciousness.
Azazel scorned the abomination known as his men, and headed downhill by alone. Yes, it had always been that way, by himself, and that undisputed point remained in all these bitterly coarse years. Whispers of war spoke of manifesting sorrow, surrounding the figure of Azazel as he disappeared from view.
What sadness...Evening draws nigh...
~
"Father, I see someone!"
Tobias jerked upright at once, his stiff back cracking as he did so. Wincing in pain, he quickly set down his flute and slowly stood up. A young boy, not older than twelve perhaps, sprinted through the tall grasses, face shining with excitement and ...what was it called...the indescribable aura of joy and innocence. Tobias' eyes glazed with compassion and warmth. How he loved this boy! How he'd do anything for him! Such was his aged heart's undying love, which he feared would prove to be futile later on...
No, he mustn't think that! Dan was a good boy. He would make the right decisions! Tobias firmly nodded his head, mentally agreeing with this practical reassurance. Yes. He'd make sure. He’d pray and hope and wish...Dan was a good boy...
"Who is it?" Tobias finally asked, watching the boy's chest heave up and down. His brows furrowed together in concern, carefully studying the boy’s most prominent feature: fear.
Dan, for he must be called that now, faced the old man and breathlessly replied, "I saw a tall stranger. He is coming this way, I saw him not long after my nap, a-and..."
He hesitated, fumbling with words.
"He carries a gun with him, father!"
It was here Tobias knew something was gravely wrong.
~
They had spotted him. Azazel knew he had not been seeing illusions. Good, he thought grimly. That saves the introduction.
Although there was one thing he couldn’t quite discern; why were they there? And for what purpose?
This landmark was long since abandoned – a pitiful win for Team Rocket. Azazel remembered the day with scorn. He had been fifteen. The people here had been weak, and along with many lives their foolish ambitions had been destroyed. Some of them had put up a good fight, particularly one raven haired trainer, but this was all in the past. Oh, how he hated this town...
Azazel grimaced, restraining his trip down memory lane. Right now, there were far more important things to consider.
As he ventured closer, he saw that the ruins were completely buried by wildflowers, save for one or two blocks of concrete. He glared at the tiny wooden flute resting on top of one. Travelers, he thought, or possibly senile nomads.
“Hello, there!”
Azazel flinched from surprise, hands quickly jumping over to his gun out of sheer instinct. When he saw who it was, he relaxed; there was no need for weapons in front of these people.
There was the old man. Silver tendrils of hair loosely clung on to the baldness that was his head, wrinkles etched across the tired face. He wore a simple garment of white, carelessly laced with rough strands of rope, so that the extra space within hung out in front of his abdomen, giving the impression of a well fed man. Azazel knew this was not true. Beneath the layers of white, this person was practically emaciated and deformed, bones protruding unhealthily.
Contrary to the old man, Azazel was more intrigued in the boy adjacent. He was lithe, healthy, exuding that air of innocent youth. Skin was golden tan, contrasting lightly with the brown tunic he wore, designed in the same fashion as the old man.
What really startled Azazel in the end, though, were their eyes. When he was little, he remembered seeing those eyes one time – the ones capable of holding an entire ocean. The two strangers shared the exact same color. The indescribable blue. The wonderful, fresh, joyful blue...
“What are you doing here?” Azazel demanded, ridding himself of the pointless sentiments. The old man blinked, before a smile stretched across his face.
“Tobias, sir. My name is Tobias. This here is my son, Dan,” he greeted, gesturing to the frantically waving boy. The boy was also smiling, as if both were blissfully oblivious to given question. Azazel was perturbed.
“I asked what you’re doing here, not your names,” he spat, annoyed. Hands tightened on the gun. Tobias must’ve seen, for he hastily retreated.
“Of course, sir. W-We,” he paused, feigning a cough, “We live here.”
Azazel raised an eye, disbelief shown in his face. “You honestly expect me to believe that? Team Rocket destroyed the town. This place has been abandoned for quite a whil-”
“It’s true!” Dan interrupted, eyes shining. “We do live here! Father and I, we live here! We were here when they came, and we decided to stay, and we really like it here. It’s nice. I mean...” Dan was concentrating on his words, trying to get them out properly. Azazel calmly regarded him for a second.
“Survivors?”
Dan nodded furiously.
“How old are you?”
“Around twelve, sir.”
Azazel mocked a thoughtful pose, and he had to smile coldly.
“Do you know how old I am? Thirty-three. Do you know when this town was destroyed? When I was fifteen. And do you know the difference between thirty-three and fifteen?”
Dan still didn’t get it. He furrowed his eyebrows, deep in thought, calculating. Tobias’ face was a bit paler, or was it the sun’s last warning? Oh, well. Their fault...
“Eighteen, sir. The difference is eighteen,” the boy finally answered, innocently awaiting judgment. Azazel almost laughed at the naiveté.
“So tell me, how can a boy of twelve possi-”
“Please, sir!” Tobias cried out frantically. “He does not know what he’s talking about. In truth, I was about to explain that Dan is actuall-”
“Oh, shut up,” Azazel growled, thoroughly aggravated. These people were complete fools, a disgrace to mankind. Did they take him for the same fool? The thought only fueled his rage.
“I don’t believe a word you people say. And quite frankly, I don’t like it when I am lied to. You know what they do to liars in Team Rocket?” Azazel asked icily, fingering the smooth surface of his gun. The weapon gave forth such a foreboding message, Tobias paled even more, beads of swear forming. Dan’s eyes widened, but he said nothing, lips sealed tightly. He understood the frightening predicament. Everyone walked on dangerously low levels of trust, and one word was precarious enough...
“Please, sir,” Tobias reasoned, keeping his tone relatively low. “We’re nobody. We’re selfless, God-fearing people, and we’d never hurt any-”
“I said shut up!” Azazel snapped, face glistening with sweat. Tobias did just that, pulling Dan over to his side. Poor boy wasn’t even scared. He probably didn’t know what the gun was capable of.
“I don’t know what to do with you people,” Azazel muttered, pacing back and forth. Hands twitched near the trigger – a subtle movement, but a movement nonetheless. “First I catch you on marked territory, then you lie to me, and if that isn’t bad enough, the words ‘shut up’ don’t comprehend to you!” Azazel was furious. The whole situation was stifling and he was going nowhere with these uncivilized barbarians.
Tobias stood silent for a few seconds, but he braced himself. He had to try again, for Dan. He prayed everything would be resolved, for if he did not, things would only start falling downhill from here.
“I beg you, sir,” Tobias said steadily, “We do not wish to cause harm; if our presence disturbs you, we shall gladly leave. We’d never do anything to intentionally harm. We do no-”
Azazel fired the gun. Twice. In the air.
“Do I have your attention now?” he snarled.
Tobias stared with watery eyes and said nothing.
Longest one shot I have ever written. A bit longer than usual, so I divided it into three parts, which..doesn't really make it a one shot, does it? Ah, well. Reviews/constructive criticism will be appreciated. Please do so! ^__^
Trinity
Part One – Sins
"That's funny. I swear I didn't see anyone before," Azazel muttered, frowning.
There was something odd about the way he said those words. The men simply did not understand why. Azazel heeded none of the confusion and steadily kept his gaze on one particular destination. Beneath the descending rows of amethyst hills, cluttered with golden stalks and hiding just between the stems of wild lilies, Azazel saw only one thing.
For weary men, this was haven. Their tired bodies basked in the sunlight and jaded souls were finally relieved of the everlasting burden. Even now, as the sun teetered on the brink of tomorrow, they could envision no other beauty then the ethereal presence of nature's invisible paintbrush and palette.
"You're seeing things again, Captain," one of them murmured placidly, stretched out in the warm grass. Despite his bulky exterior, it was so soft and feathery...
"So tired," the other yawned, promptly closing his eyes out of pure lack of sleep.
Azazel scoffed at the pleasant atmosphere's toll, bestowing his men such languid moods. They were weak and foolish. If not for him, Azazel knew they'd never offer bullets to victims, never fabricate proper assassination plans, and definitely reject all forms of death. It wasn't necessary killing, Azazel had argued, it was justice! Of course, comprehension failed to dawn until he executed the action in front of their very eyes, possibly scarring their much too inexperienced minds. Azazel shook his head in disgust.
They were an utter disgrace to Team Rocket.
"Meet me there," Azazel ordered curtly, pointing at that one specific destination. They might have heard him. They might have not. Whatever indication of their attention was briefly conveyed through subtle movements of the head, before slumber inevitably consumed the remnants of consciousness.
Azazel scorned the abomination known as his men, and headed downhill by alone. Yes, it had always been that way, by himself, and that undisputed point remained in all these bitterly coarse years. Whispers of war spoke of manifesting sorrow, surrounding the figure of Azazel as he disappeared from view.
What sadness...Evening draws nigh...
~
"Father, I see someone!"
Tobias jerked upright at once, his stiff back cracking as he did so. Wincing in pain, he quickly set down his flute and slowly stood up. A young boy, not older than twelve perhaps, sprinted through the tall grasses, face shining with excitement and ...what was it called...the indescribable aura of joy and innocence. Tobias' eyes glazed with compassion and warmth. How he loved this boy! How he'd do anything for him! Such was his aged heart's undying love, which he feared would prove to be futile later on...
No, he mustn't think that! Dan was a good boy. He would make the right decisions! Tobias firmly nodded his head, mentally agreeing with this practical reassurance. Yes. He'd make sure. He’d pray and hope and wish...Dan was a good boy...
"Who is it?" Tobias finally asked, watching the boy's chest heave up and down. His brows furrowed together in concern, carefully studying the boy’s most prominent feature: fear.
Dan, for he must be called that now, faced the old man and breathlessly replied, "I saw a tall stranger. He is coming this way, I saw him not long after my nap, a-and..."
He hesitated, fumbling with words.
"He carries a gun with him, father!"
It was here Tobias knew something was gravely wrong.
~
They had spotted him. Azazel knew he had not been seeing illusions. Good, he thought grimly. That saves the introduction.
Although there was one thing he couldn’t quite discern; why were they there? And for what purpose?
This landmark was long since abandoned – a pitiful win for Team Rocket. Azazel remembered the day with scorn. He had been fifteen. The people here had been weak, and along with many lives their foolish ambitions had been destroyed. Some of them had put up a good fight, particularly one raven haired trainer, but this was all in the past. Oh, how he hated this town...
Azazel grimaced, restraining his trip down memory lane. Right now, there were far more important things to consider.
As he ventured closer, he saw that the ruins were completely buried by wildflowers, save for one or two blocks of concrete. He glared at the tiny wooden flute resting on top of one. Travelers, he thought, or possibly senile nomads.
“Hello, there!”
Azazel flinched from surprise, hands quickly jumping over to his gun out of sheer instinct. When he saw who it was, he relaxed; there was no need for weapons in front of these people.
There was the old man. Silver tendrils of hair loosely clung on to the baldness that was his head, wrinkles etched across the tired face. He wore a simple garment of white, carelessly laced with rough strands of rope, so that the extra space within hung out in front of his abdomen, giving the impression of a well fed man. Azazel knew this was not true. Beneath the layers of white, this person was practically emaciated and deformed, bones protruding unhealthily.
Contrary to the old man, Azazel was more intrigued in the boy adjacent. He was lithe, healthy, exuding that air of innocent youth. Skin was golden tan, contrasting lightly with the brown tunic he wore, designed in the same fashion as the old man.
What really startled Azazel in the end, though, were their eyes. When he was little, he remembered seeing those eyes one time – the ones capable of holding an entire ocean. The two strangers shared the exact same color. The indescribable blue. The wonderful, fresh, joyful blue...
“What are you doing here?” Azazel demanded, ridding himself of the pointless sentiments. The old man blinked, before a smile stretched across his face.
“Tobias, sir. My name is Tobias. This here is my son, Dan,” he greeted, gesturing to the frantically waving boy. The boy was also smiling, as if both were blissfully oblivious to given question. Azazel was perturbed.
“I asked what you’re doing here, not your names,” he spat, annoyed. Hands tightened on the gun. Tobias must’ve seen, for he hastily retreated.
“Of course, sir. W-We,” he paused, feigning a cough, “We live here.”
Azazel raised an eye, disbelief shown in his face. “You honestly expect me to believe that? Team Rocket destroyed the town. This place has been abandoned for quite a whil-”
“It’s true!” Dan interrupted, eyes shining. “We do live here! Father and I, we live here! We were here when they came, and we decided to stay, and we really like it here. It’s nice. I mean...” Dan was concentrating on his words, trying to get them out properly. Azazel calmly regarded him for a second.
“Survivors?”
Dan nodded furiously.
“How old are you?”
“Around twelve, sir.”
Azazel mocked a thoughtful pose, and he had to smile coldly.
“Do you know how old I am? Thirty-three. Do you know when this town was destroyed? When I was fifteen. And do you know the difference between thirty-three and fifteen?”
Dan still didn’t get it. He furrowed his eyebrows, deep in thought, calculating. Tobias’ face was a bit paler, or was it the sun’s last warning? Oh, well. Their fault...
“Eighteen, sir. The difference is eighteen,” the boy finally answered, innocently awaiting judgment. Azazel almost laughed at the naiveté.
“So tell me, how can a boy of twelve possi-”
“Please, sir!” Tobias cried out frantically. “He does not know what he’s talking about. In truth, I was about to explain that Dan is actuall-”
“Oh, shut up,” Azazel growled, thoroughly aggravated. These people were complete fools, a disgrace to mankind. Did they take him for the same fool? The thought only fueled his rage.
“I don’t believe a word you people say. And quite frankly, I don’t like it when I am lied to. You know what they do to liars in Team Rocket?” Azazel asked icily, fingering the smooth surface of his gun. The weapon gave forth such a foreboding message, Tobias paled even more, beads of swear forming. Dan’s eyes widened, but he said nothing, lips sealed tightly. He understood the frightening predicament. Everyone walked on dangerously low levels of trust, and one word was precarious enough...
“Please, sir,” Tobias reasoned, keeping his tone relatively low. “We’re nobody. We’re selfless, God-fearing people, and we’d never hurt any-”
“I said shut up!” Azazel snapped, face glistening with sweat. Tobias did just that, pulling Dan over to his side. Poor boy wasn’t even scared. He probably didn’t know what the gun was capable of.
“I don’t know what to do with you people,” Azazel muttered, pacing back and forth. Hands twitched near the trigger – a subtle movement, but a movement nonetheless. “First I catch you on marked territory, then you lie to me, and if that isn’t bad enough, the words ‘shut up’ don’t comprehend to you!” Azazel was furious. The whole situation was stifling and he was going nowhere with these uncivilized barbarians.
Tobias stood silent for a few seconds, but he braced himself. He had to try again, for Dan. He prayed everything would be resolved, for if he did not, things would only start falling downhill from here.
“I beg you, sir,” Tobias said steadily, “We do not wish to cause harm; if our presence disturbs you, we shall gladly leave. We’d never do anything to intentionally harm. We do no-”
Azazel fired the gun. Twice. In the air.
“Do I have your attention now?” he snarled.
Tobias stared with watery eyes and said nothing.