Dogma, Seven Sins, Bartleby/Loki
title: Psalm 35 (Verse 3 - "Draw Out The Spear")
author: windsor blue
theme: seven sins (envy)
rating: NC-17 for language
warnings: heresy, potentially offensive to those with Christian beliefs
fandom: Dogma
pairing: Bartleby/Loki
word count: 444
"Hey, wait a minute, wait a minute...did you see that?"
Bartleby stirred, lazily turning his head in the direction Loki was pointing. "What, the TV?"
"No, the guy on the TV. Did he just say what I think he said?"
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
Loki shot a quick glare at Bartleby, then flicked his finger - across the terminal, the volume on the television went up. "He did - that son of a bitch!"
Bartleby sat up that much more, elbows on his knees, watching. On the screen, a man - even from here, Bartleby could catch the stink of hypocrisy on him, the stain of the too-pious sinner - and the man was talking, talking, talking. Well, yelling, more like. About a young man - just a kid, really - murdered and hung up on a barbed-wire fence. Humans sure did pull some pretty brutal shit to each other. This man was calling the kid a sinner, among other things, and then he said those three little words, and Bartleby couldn't help but cringe a little bit, because Loki was bristling, all but foaming at the mouth.
"He did it again! Did you hear that? He just fucking invoked me!"
"Calm down..."
"No - he fucking invoked me! What the fuck does that asshole think he knows about the Wrath of God?"
"He's just some charlatan."
"Oh, I got that much, thanks - of course the guy's a charlatan. That's my point! He wouldn't know the Wrath of God if I walked up and bit him on the ass!"
"You always get yourself so worked up over this."
"Yeah, well, if some overblown meat-puppet was tossing your name around like that, you'd be pissing yourself mad."
"Hey, what'd I say about the 'meat-puppet' thing?"
Loki lifted his hand, half-apologetically. "Yeah, yeah...sorry."
"You know I don't like that."
"Sorry, sorry. But you see what I mean, right?"
"Sure, sure - in theory, yeah. I mean, you did some quality work, and here this guy is, comparing this garden variety evil to your stuff."
"I flooded the whole fucking planet, man!"
"Exactly. A single murder for you would be pretty bush league."
Loki was on his feet now, pacing, ignoring the few people who were daring to watch him. "Y'know, I really wish you'd let me smite somebody once in a while."
"We talked about this..."
"Cause that guy could use a good smiting."
"And then you'd be no better than those guys, right? Bush league, Loki, bush league."
Loki frowned deeply and sat back down, making a dull 'thunk' in his chair as he did. "I just hate those assholes, y'know?"
Bartleby nodded. "They're only doing it to annoy you."
author: windsor blue
theme: seven sins (envy)
rating: NC-17 for language
warnings: heresy, potentially offensive to those with Christian beliefs
fandom: Dogma
pairing: Bartleby/Loki
word count: 444
"Hey, wait a minute, wait a minute...did you see that?"
Bartleby stirred, lazily turning his head in the direction Loki was pointing. "What, the TV?"
"No, the guy on the TV. Did he just say what I think he said?"
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
Loki shot a quick glare at Bartleby, then flicked his finger - across the terminal, the volume on the television went up. "He did - that son of a bitch!"
Bartleby sat up that much more, elbows on his knees, watching. On the screen, a man - even from here, Bartleby could catch the stink of hypocrisy on him, the stain of the too-pious sinner - and the man was talking, talking, talking. Well, yelling, more like. About a young man - just a kid, really - murdered and hung up on a barbed-wire fence. Humans sure did pull some pretty brutal shit to each other. This man was calling the kid a sinner, among other things, and then he said those three little words, and Bartleby couldn't help but cringe a little bit, because Loki was bristling, all but foaming at the mouth.
"He did it again! Did you hear that? He just fucking invoked me!"
"Calm down..."
"No - he fucking invoked me! What the fuck does that asshole think he knows about the Wrath of God?"
"He's just some charlatan."
"Oh, I got that much, thanks - of course the guy's a charlatan. That's my point! He wouldn't know the Wrath of God if I walked up and bit him on the ass!"
"You always get yourself so worked up over this."
"Yeah, well, if some overblown meat-puppet was tossing your name around like that, you'd be pissing yourself mad."
"Hey, what'd I say about the 'meat-puppet' thing?"
Loki lifted his hand, half-apologetically. "Yeah, yeah...sorry."
"You know I don't like that."
"Sorry, sorry. But you see what I mean, right?"
"Sure, sure - in theory, yeah. I mean, you did some quality work, and here this guy is, comparing this garden variety evil to your stuff."
"I flooded the whole fucking planet, man!"
"Exactly. A single murder for you would be pretty bush league."
Loki was on his feet now, pacing, ignoring the few people who were daring to watch him. "Y'know, I really wish you'd let me smite somebody once in a while."
"We talked about this..."
"Cause that guy could use a good smiting."
"And then you'd be no better than those guys, right? Bush league, Loki, bush league."
Loki frowned deeply and sat back down, making a dull 'thunk' in his chair as he did. "I just hate those assholes, y'know?"
Bartleby nodded. "They're only doing it to annoy you."