fairielore (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fairielore) wrote2010-06-14 10:37 am
fairielore) wrote2010-06-14 10:37 am
Entry tags:
Metamorphosis
Title: Metamorphosis
Characters: Cutler Beckett, James Norrington
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: Butterflies
He’d been standing out on deck when he’d seen it, a butterfly composed of shimmering shades of blue and green. Its sight captivated and mesmerized him, the lone creature having traversed the seas – for what reason? It settled on the railing, seemingly resting from a long journey. His slender hand reached out to touch it but it was quickly swiped away.
“One should be nice to messengers.” The voice belonged to one Cutler Beckett, and it was a rare sight to see him out of his office. In his opinion it seemed to be that whatever needed to be done could be done with the stroke of a pen.
“Messenger?” He asked, puzzled as he watched the wings flutter slowly before setting his gaze on the Lord.
“It’s a sign of a storm up ahead. What other reason would it have to fly so far?”
He wasn’t sure exactly how sound that logic was but he was inclined to believe just about anything the man said.
“We’ll need to adjust our course a couple degrees.” The Lord said and made his leave, and James was left out on deck with the lone butterfly until that too flew away. But it was not the last he saw of the butterfly. Rather, it circled around the ship like a good luck charm, much to the amusement of the captain who came out ever so often to watch it. It was in that time he’d garnered a captivation for the blue-green colour of its wings and the other person who seemed toappreciate its presence. Never had he seen Beckett appreciate something so simple with such a serene expression. And so as the Lord watched the circling butterfly, he watched him with a curiosity that was beginning to overcome him.
Look, but don’t touch.
Never more had he wanted to stray from that one simple rule. Though he had abided it in the past what had it gotten him? He’d reaped no rewards from playing the nice guy, from giving a courteous smile as his advances were pushed away. No less had his obsession been then as it had been now. But this time he would not be so easily swayed. A flask of whiskey ensured that.
Characters: Cutler Beckett, James Norrington
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: Butterflies
He’d been standing out on deck when he’d seen it, a butterfly composed of shimmering shades of blue and green. Its sight captivated and mesmerized him, the lone creature having traversed the seas – for what reason? It settled on the railing, seemingly resting from a long journey. His slender hand reached out to touch it but it was quickly swiped away.
“One should be nice to messengers.” The voice belonged to one Cutler Beckett, and it was a rare sight to see him out of his office. In his opinion it seemed to be that whatever needed to be done could be done with the stroke of a pen.
“Messenger?” He asked, puzzled as he watched the wings flutter slowly before setting his gaze on the Lord.
“It’s a sign of a storm up ahead. What other reason would it have to fly so far?”
He wasn’t sure exactly how sound that logic was but he was inclined to believe just about anything the man said.
“We’ll need to adjust our course a couple degrees.” The Lord said and made his leave, and James was left out on deck with the lone butterfly until that too flew away. But it was not the last he saw of the butterfly. Rather, it circled around the ship like a good luck charm, much to the amusement of the captain who came out ever so often to watch it. It was in that time he’d garnered a captivation for the blue-green colour of its wings and the other person who seemed toappreciate its presence. Never had he seen Beckett appreciate something so simple with such a serene expression. And so as the Lord watched the circling butterfly, he watched him with a curiosity that was beginning to overcome him.
Look, but don’t touch.
Never more had he wanted to stray from that one simple rule. Though he had abided it in the past what had it gotten him? He’d reaped no rewards from playing the nice guy, from giving a courteous smile as his advances were pushed away. No less had his obsession been then as it had been now. But this time he would not be so easily swayed. A flask of whiskey ensured that.