Because I read the book and loved it. I clearly do not own V For Vendetta.
I'll be doing the 120 Drabble Challenge by ShibaAyame on Deviantart for this. Perception, as it is named, will be from the perception (im so good at puns) or POV of many or few characters in the book, whoever I think fits the next drabble best or has inspiration for. So yeah, this is the chapter one, and be warned, if you read the books then you know exactly what that means. This is purely canon, whatever warnings are given for the orginial book are given here.
Dangerous Games
Some would say that she's naive, others say that she's only a child. Evey agrees.
The only things she'd got going for her is the fact that she's not blind.
It's not right, Evey thinks, that she has to do this.
But the money...
The slump in her shoulders won't do.
Evey consoles herself. Only women ever go to Westminster, and the only type of men that go are the type that look for those women. The chances that she'll be caught, specifically, are one to none. She breathes in deeply, and lifts the mascara brush.
When Evey's done, she looks perfect. Large doe eyes outlined in black, lashes long and darkened, cheeks flushed red, and lips puckered a succulent pink. Perfect; Evey hopes that they don't notice the look in her eyes, the one that's not unfamiliar to those that belong to the wild cats chained and locked in cages for all to see.
She doesn't look too gloomy, does she?
No, no she doesn't.
Evey slips on her dress, her boots and grabs a coat. It's going to be a little chilly tonight.
It's dark out; its nearing nine thirty after all, but still, somehow, Parliaments cold shadow falls over Westminster Bridge, and she shivers. There was power here once, power that decided the destiny of millions.
Evey isn't blind. She stares, a small frown on her brows and a faraway look in her eyes, and she imagines it. The years before the war, the people, all the people.
She turns away. She's nothing to the past. Her transactions, her decisions, are insignificant. They affect no one.
Down at the alley's entrance. A man stands, lighting up a pipe. He wears a long brown coat and looks almost well dressed. He's probably twice her age but she'll take it.
It's a dangerous game she's about to play, but she's not the first to give their go at it. If she plays the desperate act, they'll buy it. Maybe they won't pay her as much as she'd want, but they'd pay her anyway – she's young, she's willing, and she's perfect.
Evey walks up to him, her cards up her sleeve, and promptly loses.
It probably would have been the end, but then he showed up and now her game is his, and is more than she'd ever thought it would be.