(no subject)
The worst things happen when a person's guard is down. Horror and evil, after all, can spout from innocence - ignorance, better named. It was a lesson that Leon Tallis had not learned in the first twenty-nine years of his life. Laughing at the follies of the world and ignoring your own missteps, that was the rule he had lived by. It had served him well, up to a point, but only up to a point. Sands had begun to shift beneath his feet, more swiftly which each passing week. He had begun to realize that it would not always be so.
Leon had seen the crate immediately when he came into the kitchen. Later, he had wondered why he had not only left it alone. It was sitting there on the table when he came in, nondescript and dull, the sort of thing in which a thousand kinds of goods might have been shipped around the world back home, from trousers to toys. There was no reason at all for him to think that it was meant for him. But by the time he had retrieved a piece of fruit he had come for, curiosity had gotten the better of him. The top had already been pried off the crate, so all he had to do was peer inside.
And there they were. seven dozen chocolate bars, eight perhaps, stacked neatly and snugly together. The rainbow of colors of the wrappers were carefully divided so that the blues were in one stack, the greens in the next, purples in a third. And all were neatly stamped in cheerful lettering that declared them to be RAINBOW AMO BARS.
Leon picked one up warily, like a boy who had been told by his mother not to touch the hot stove but who wondered if doing so would have the same painful effect when she was not cooking at it. He still remembered when his old schoolfriend had announced he would be making his fortune in imitation chocolate. Oh, how he had laughed! Chemistry at Oxford and the best you can do is make chocolate, Marshall? He had chuckled even as Paul had made his millions because he was Paul, dull and reliable as the sugarless, milk-less chocolate he sold to a nation with emptier and emptier pockets.
Now laughter was the last thing on his mind. Paul had not been so dull and reliable. Leon thought the chocolate itself felt tainted with his crime. Guilt twisted in his gut, and anger, and fear that he really had let that nightmarish evening happen.
He tossed the wrapped chocolate bar up into the air, watching it with a grim soft of disgust as it turned end over end once before he caught it again. "Here-" He looked up as someone new came into the kitchen and tossed the candy towards them without much thought, only certain that he wanted it out of his hands more than he wanted anything in that moment. "Catch."
[Immediate slowtime, as I am in need of a nap, but I wanted to get this post up before it got much later. Tags will be returned soon!]
Leon had seen the crate immediately when he came into the kitchen. Later, he had wondered why he had not only left it alone. It was sitting there on the table when he came in, nondescript and dull, the sort of thing in which a thousand kinds of goods might have been shipped around the world back home, from trousers to toys. There was no reason at all for him to think that it was meant for him. But by the time he had retrieved a piece of fruit he had come for, curiosity had gotten the better of him. The top had already been pried off the crate, so all he had to do was peer inside.
And there they were. seven dozen chocolate bars, eight perhaps, stacked neatly and snugly together. The rainbow of colors of the wrappers were carefully divided so that the blues were in one stack, the greens in the next, purples in a third. And all were neatly stamped in cheerful lettering that declared them to be RAINBOW AMO BARS.
Leon picked one up warily, like a boy who had been told by his mother not to touch the hot stove but who wondered if doing so would have the same painful effect when she was not cooking at it. He still remembered when his old schoolfriend had announced he would be making his fortune in imitation chocolate. Oh, how he had laughed! Chemistry at Oxford and the best you can do is make chocolate, Marshall? He had chuckled even as Paul had made his millions because he was Paul, dull and reliable as the sugarless, milk-less chocolate he sold to a nation with emptier and emptier pockets.
Now laughter was the last thing on his mind. Paul had not been so dull and reliable. Leon thought the chocolate itself felt tainted with his crime. Guilt twisted in his gut, and anger, and fear that he really had let that nightmarish evening happen.
He tossed the wrapped chocolate bar up into the air, watching it with a grim soft of disgust as it turned end over end once before he caught it again. "Here-" He looked up as someone new came into the kitchen and tossed the candy towards them without much thought, only certain that he wanted it out of his hands more than he wanted anything in that moment. "Catch."
[Immediate slowtime, as I am in need of a nap, but I wanted to get this post up before it got much later. Tags will be returned soon!]