[avm] 5.3.A - james blunt lyrics (tears and rain)
How I wish I could surrender my soul;
Shed the clothes that become my skin;
See the liar that burns within my needing.
====================
“You’re sure you wanna do this?”
Tommy looked into Martin Mackenroy’s eyes, frowning in confusion. “I thought this didn’t mean anything?”
“It doesn’t,” the older man replied slowly, “but it’s not without its own inherent risks. It’s like pledging yerself t’ any seeker’s path. It’s that apple Eve gave Adam: once you take a bite, ya never really get the taste outta yer mouth. Ya can’t un-bite it. You understand, son?”
He hesitated, split with indecision and certainty. He knew it was a heavy burden he was about to take on, yet some part of him he’d never been aware of until now was restless and ready. His fingers were itching for the gleaming silver cuffs totally against his will.
Give me my chains.
He didn’t know where the words came from, but they felt right. Swallowing hard, he nodded, and extended his hands.
“Let me have ‘em. I’m ready.”
Watching him closely for a moment, Martin finally sighed and nodded. In the middle of the desk in Martin’s West Hollywood office, a chest sat filled with standard sets of handcuffs. Taking one from the top, Martin turned to Tommy and displayed the gleaming pair of silver shackles.
“Your talisman will represent you till the end of your days. What form it takes will tell us the nature of your magic, the nature of what you will become. If these shackles are only that, yer not meant t’ serve, and you got a choice to walk away. If they fall at yer wrists, yer bound t’ serve as a part of the great machine, to turn the wheels this order rolls on.”
Tommy glanced around the room at his three friends…Ben, with his handcuff wristwatch, and the Kellar twins each wearing a matching set of handcuff bracelets. Jay’s were polished steel while Mike’s were some alloy, a matte black finish that was far more subdued.
Turning back to Martin, he caught a glimpse of the thick, masculine silver chain hiding beneath his buttondown shirt, ending in a matched pair of handcuff shackles he’d shown to Tommy earlier.
If they fall at the heart, the order owns your soul, and your life shall never mean more than the power.
The knowledge came from within, a revelation he couldn’t put a fix on. Taking a deep breath, he met Martin’s gaze and nodded.
“I understand.”
Nodding back, Martin gathered up the cuffs…then tossed them in the air.
“The beast is loosed. The bonds are yours.”
Time was suspended for a moment as he reached up with both hands and watched with his heart throbbing behind his eyes while the cuffs moved in slow motion, dropping easily into his waiting grip. Instinctively, he drew his hands to his chest and found himself waiting, expecting the pop of steel fitting around his wrists, warm and solid and welcoming.
Instead, there was nothing…until he flipped the chain up and over his head, draping it around his neck and pressing the shackles to his chest. Something clicked, and then the steel was warm, larger and perfectly fit to him.
Opening his eyes, Tommy stared at his own reflection past Martin, dim and distant in the pane of glass covering a framed picture. The shackles now hung around his neck like an amulet similar to Martin’s, only his was large and chunky, the shackles glittering with the brilliance of the diamonds encrusting their surface.
It was totally out of place on him, and yet the image of his face framed below by showy, dazzling silver and stones resonated with him. He knew, without ego, that he looked good.
He was himself, for the first and only time.
“Heart of the king.” Ben breathed on the periphery. “The amulet’s a leadership talisman, brother.”
Tommy snorted, shaking his head, still transfixed by his own image. “I’m no leader, Benji…never have been. Never will be.”
Yet the same instinct that made him ache for the touch of steel was nodding and smiling inside of him. Some part of his mind and his heart were agreeing with Ben, praising him for his insight.
Blasphemously, he touched the talisman and named the image he saw in the glass without shame or fear, somehow knowing that it was the only name for what he saw.
King of Handcuffs.
Muse: Tommy Karras
Fandom: Original Character
Words: 722
Shed the clothes that become my skin;
See the liar that burns within my needing.
====================
“You’re sure you wanna do this?”
Tommy looked into Martin Mackenroy’s eyes, frowning in confusion. “I thought this didn’t mean anything?”
“It doesn’t,” the older man replied slowly, “but it’s not without its own inherent risks. It’s like pledging yerself t’ any seeker’s path. It’s that apple Eve gave Adam: once you take a bite, ya never really get the taste outta yer mouth. Ya can’t un-bite it. You understand, son?”
He hesitated, split with indecision and certainty. He knew it was a heavy burden he was about to take on, yet some part of him he’d never been aware of until now was restless and ready. His fingers were itching for the gleaming silver cuffs totally against his will.
Give me my chains.
He didn’t know where the words came from, but they felt right. Swallowing hard, he nodded, and extended his hands.
“Let me have ‘em. I’m ready.”
Watching him closely for a moment, Martin finally sighed and nodded. In the middle of the desk in Martin’s West Hollywood office, a chest sat filled with standard sets of handcuffs. Taking one from the top, Martin turned to Tommy and displayed the gleaming pair of silver shackles.
“Your talisman will represent you till the end of your days. What form it takes will tell us the nature of your magic, the nature of what you will become. If these shackles are only that, yer not meant t’ serve, and you got a choice to walk away. If they fall at yer wrists, yer bound t’ serve as a part of the great machine, to turn the wheels this order rolls on.”
Tommy glanced around the room at his three friends…Ben, with his handcuff wristwatch, and the Kellar twins each wearing a matching set of handcuff bracelets. Jay’s were polished steel while Mike’s were some alloy, a matte black finish that was far more subdued.
Turning back to Martin, he caught a glimpse of the thick, masculine silver chain hiding beneath his buttondown shirt, ending in a matched pair of handcuff shackles he’d shown to Tommy earlier.
If they fall at the heart, the order owns your soul, and your life shall never mean more than the power.
The knowledge came from within, a revelation he couldn’t put a fix on. Taking a deep breath, he met Martin’s gaze and nodded.
“I understand.”
Nodding back, Martin gathered up the cuffs…then tossed them in the air.
“The beast is loosed. The bonds are yours.”
Time was suspended for a moment as he reached up with both hands and watched with his heart throbbing behind his eyes while the cuffs moved in slow motion, dropping easily into his waiting grip. Instinctively, he drew his hands to his chest and found himself waiting, expecting the pop of steel fitting around his wrists, warm and solid and welcoming.
Instead, there was nothing…until he flipped the chain up and over his head, draping it around his neck and pressing the shackles to his chest. Something clicked, and then the steel was warm, larger and perfectly fit to him.
Opening his eyes, Tommy stared at his own reflection past Martin, dim and distant in the pane of glass covering a framed picture. The shackles now hung around his neck like an amulet similar to Martin’s, only his was large and chunky, the shackles glittering with the brilliance of the diamonds encrusting their surface.
It was totally out of place on him, and yet the image of his face framed below by showy, dazzling silver and stones resonated with him. He knew, without ego, that he looked good.
He was himself, for the first and only time.
“Heart of the king.” Ben breathed on the periphery. “The amulet’s a leadership talisman, brother.”
Tommy snorted, shaking his head, still transfixed by his own image. “I’m no leader, Benji…never have been. Never will be.”
Yet the same instinct that made him ache for the touch of steel was nodding and smiling inside of him. Some part of his mind and his heart were agreeing with Ben, praising him for his insight.
Blasphemously, he touched the talisman and named the image he saw in the glass without shame or fear, somehow knowing that it was the only name for what he saw.
King of Handcuffs.
Muse: Tommy Karras
Fandom: Original Character
Words: 722