A/N: This here is my collection of responses to The Firm's Montly Prompt Challenge. Prompts are on the profile page. Feel free to join in - anyone and everyone is welcome :)
Prompts
April, 2009
Snowflakes
Most people think of snowflakes, and they imagine thousands of perfect white specks, each individual and beautiful. Alex thinks of snowflakes, and he imagines safety in numbers, hiding his differences by burying them from all but close inspection. After all, from a distance the snowflakes all blend together into an obscuring sheet of white.
Reaper
The members of Scorpia used to call him the Reaper. He was aware of the nickname, but it didn't bother him. It is true, after all. In fact, he began to use it himself. He kept the identities separate, wearing disguises when using that name, so nobody knew he was both. It came in handy - he could use one persona to collect information and gossip about the other personal. It was 'The Reaper' who killed a prime minister. It was himself who kidnapped a politician's son for a week. He has separate contacts and informants for both - people who would not speak to him before are now willing to contact 'The Reaper' as long as he pays well. Half the police forces in the world have a bounty out for 'The Reaper' (real name - unknown). The other half are still searching for Alex.
History
This isn't something they tell you in that history book of yours – the one with the crisp clean pages and dull words. Those scholars, removed from the very events they're writing and completely dismissing emotion – they don't know. They never will know, because it won't fit into their carefully formulaic texts. They skim through the top, never looking deeper. But I know the depths, so stop paging through it. The words aren't strong enough; they don't convey the feeling of the times; they don't tell all there is to hear. Listen to me, instead. Listen to one who was there, to one who saw the events happen – all of them. I may be old, but I remember. I knew Alex Rider.
Automatic
She only asked him for one thing – one unbreakable rule. Never lie. He could keep secrets, he could omit truths, he could disappear on a mission for months. But he could never lie to her. That's all she asked and he - so in love – agreed. He didn't think about all the lies he had already told her, about all the lies that he rattled off automatically. It was more reflex, then actual thoughts. But he was too embarrassed to correct himself right away, and as the months passed he didn't want to tell her he had lied so long ago.