Choose Wisely [narrative]
The Council Room is empty, as it has been so many times recently. Only the echoing klaks of The General's boots makes the room live, if only slightly. The air is cold and stale, stolen of its vitality by the tall man and his constant pacing. But, today he relieves himself of his anxious waltz to stand at the edge of the dusty, old red velvet curtain that covers the window to the outside.
The frayed feet of the curtain scoot across the faded marble floor, nudging the edge of The General's boots. The flicker of sunlight briefly lives on the dust of the floor, only to die out as the curtain settles back.
"You're going to burn yourself," he says, casually to the curtain.
"I don't care. I miss seeing it," says the curtain in return, its voice human and pubescent.
"Very well."
"What did she say?"
"The girl asked for time to decide." The General answers with a hint of cold humor against it.
"How much time? War is starting to wonder what all of your trips to the Outer Worlds are for. If you go back too soon-"
"Three OuterWorld days. Let me worry about Mother, my Brother."
"And if she doesn't give you her answer by the end of the three days?" The curtain shifts, something behind it brushing down the surface.
A sharp-toothed grin curls onto The General's chapped lips, breaking the dry skin on the bottom lip to allow a black substance to ooze to the surface. "Then I will decide for her."
The frayed feet of the curtain scoot across the faded marble floor, nudging the edge of The General's boots. The flicker of sunlight briefly lives on the dust of the floor, only to die out as the curtain settles back.
"You're going to burn yourself," he says, casually to the curtain.
"I don't care. I miss seeing it," says the curtain in return, its voice human and pubescent.
"Very well."
"What did she say?"
"The girl asked for time to decide." The General answers with a hint of cold humor against it.
"How much time? War is starting to wonder what all of your trips to the Outer Worlds are for. If you go back too soon-"
"Three OuterWorld days. Let me worry about Mother, my Brother."
"And if she doesn't give you her answer by the end of the three days?" The curtain shifts, something behind it brushing down the surface.
A sharp-toothed grin curls onto The General's chapped lips, breaking the dry skin on the bottom lip to allow a black substance to ooze to the surface. "Then I will decide for her."