For muse_academy 11.1b Competition
Muse Name: Sir Guy of Gisborne
Fandom: Robin Hood
Prompt Number: 11B
Title: Competition
Warnings/Disclaimers: Dark themes, violence
Word Count: 262
Another day, another title.
Master of Arms for Nottingham. A tiny smirk appeared across Guy’s face as he looked impassively at the body on the ground, blood seeping slowly from the puncture wound in the back. Soon, his circulation would realise that the heart and stopped beating, and it would be an easily cleared up mess. De Fourtnoy, the now-late incumbent of the title had just been too much of a nuisance, for Guy and for Vaisey. Following the orders to killhim had been easy. Guy glanced at his dagger, wiping the blood from it onto the clothing of his rival, tucking it away.
“Clean up that mess,” he said to one of the guards standing outside the stables, striding past on his way back to the castle. No need to report, Vaisey would assume the task had been taken care of.
Another of the competition eliminated. Another title added to the collection, moving Guy ever closer to his ultimate goal of money, power, acceptance. It felt good, winning at power struggles. There was a deep, almost visceral pleasure to be taken from it.
It was also one more tie in that intricate relationship with Vaisey. One more connection, pulling them ever-closer together in a relationship that was more complex any Celtic design. Weaving in and out, If it ever began to unravel, it had the potential to bring the both of them down, destroying each other in the aftermath. But then, that was the price Guy was willing to pay. It was merely another reason to keep ahead of the competition.
Fandom: Robin Hood
Prompt Number: 11B
Title: Competition
Warnings/Disclaimers: Dark themes, violence
Word Count: 262
Another day, another title.
Master of Arms for Nottingham. A tiny smirk appeared across Guy’s face as he looked impassively at the body on the ground, blood seeping slowly from the puncture wound in the back. Soon, his circulation would realise that the heart and stopped beating, and it would be an easily cleared up mess. De Fourtnoy, the now-late incumbent of the title had just been too much of a nuisance, for Guy and for Vaisey. Following the orders to killhim had been easy. Guy glanced at his dagger, wiping the blood from it onto the clothing of his rival, tucking it away.
“Clean up that mess,” he said to one of the guards standing outside the stables, striding past on his way back to the castle. No need to report, Vaisey would assume the task had been taken care of.
Another of the competition eliminated. Another title added to the collection, moving Guy ever closer to his ultimate goal of money, power, acceptance. It felt good, winning at power struggles. There was a deep, almost visceral pleasure to be taken from it.
It was also one more tie in that intricate relationship with Vaisey. One more connection, pulling them ever-closer together in a relationship that was more complex any Celtic design. Weaving in and out, If it ever began to unravel, it had the potential to bring the both of them down, destroying each other in the aftermath. But then, that was the price Guy was willing to pay. It was merely another reason to keep ahead of the competition.