Papillion
A/N: I do not own any of the characters of Moulin Rouge, or the movie it's self.. So don't waste your breath. Oh but I do own Diamante, but who would want a butterfly, honestly there are a million of them.
Oh my lord, another sad and depressing fiction by me! When will the madness end!! Really people I am not some psycho delusional morbid death child, I'm just following my muse. In real life I am really quite bubbly. (Most of the time.)
Thank you to the author of "The butterfly" for the inspiration.oh and Papillion is French for butterfly.
*~*~*~*~*
Christian sat huddled in the darkest corner of his shabby unkempt garret, clutching his Absinthe in hand with a death grip. He brought his sullen blood shot green eyes up two the window ledge, allowing them to adjust to the early morning light that was seeping in. In the corner of the window pane, hung a cocoon that was slowly bursting open, after long moments, a wet butterfly emerged, unfolding its wings and slowly batting them. Christian sat avidly fixated on this little creature, this symbol of life, and reincarnation, and how he loathed it. After a few moments the little butterfly began fluttering around the apartment rapidly, and rested on Christian's nose. Every few seconds it spread it's magnificently colored wings, azure, violet, scarlet, yellow, orange, all in an array of symmetrical patterns, it was the most perfect creature he had seen. Well at least since death took it's hold on HER, his one and only, his soul mate, his life, his love, his all, Satine.
"Well look at you." His once passionate love filled voice, croaked, hoarsely. " So vibrantly colored, so healthy, so full of life. Your like a diamond in many ways, yes, I think I shall call you Diamante. Yes Diamante is the perfect name for such a beautiful Papillion as yourself." He cooed stupidly.
Diamante shifted on his nose and then glanced up at him. For some reason not afraid of the broken creature that was before her, maybe it was his deep green eyes, that reflected a little image of what he used to be, or maybe it was the friendly tone in which he spoke, or maybe there was something about his aura.
" Diamante we are to very different beings you and I. And yet, at one point we were very alike, even though you had not yet come into existence. You see I had once been a naïve poet, full of love, life, and this feeling that once you had love nothing could go wrong, and I was always carefree. But things can go wrong my little friend. oh they can. My life is the perfect example of this." He leaned against the wall, for his speech would attest to be a long one.
" Like many of the most wonderful, and yet tragic stories, this is all about one woman. They say love can overcome all of life's precarious obstacles but that is not necessarily so, you see my friend the woman I loved, with all my heart, is dead. And her death has done this to me. Turned me into a monster, hiding day in and day out from the light, never speaking to anyone from my past, I no longer trust them. You see my petite Diamante, my Satine had been dying the duration of the time I knew her. They knew, but did nothing! They were so absorbed in making money off the worthless trash play that I wrote, and how the show must go on, that they didn't stop to think that the most beautiful creature in the world could die. And on top of all that, they made her toy with my emotions, but our love prevailed, and boy did we show them. And we showed that old decrepit duke that he couldn't stop us from loving each other until the end of time! As the curtain fell on our production, which had been a reflective look at our affair, the air of celebration died. It died as she began to take her last shuddering breaths. Consumption, my dear is a horrible disease that slowly and painfully deteriorates the lungs, as you bleed your self-out from the inside. She died, right they're in my arms, without even so much as an I love you, and there I sat blubbering and wailing like a fool!" Christian was growing very scary, it seemed as though those words had brought back up to the surface all the pain, and rage he had ever felt in his life. Diamante fluttered off his nose, but then landed again on his hand, showing that his story was to intriguing to miss out on.
" And now I hate her, I hate her for doing this to me. For leaving me this way! Didn't I tell her not to? Did I not tell her that I could not survive without her sweet love? And now look at me! I'm a monster because of her! Here I sit day after day, wasting away clinging to the beauty that once was. All my word is in shades of gray, black and white. She had no right to die! But you know what I hate even more?" He snarled maliciously. " I hate those who try and be more beautiful than her, for she was the only true and perfect beauty in this world. And what good is false beauty without true beauty?" A plan for revenge was growing in Christian's head.
" I hate those whores on the street who do themselves up with heavy makeup. They think it makes them look like her, but it only makes me want to gag. Oh how I could kill those disgusting vermin." He grabbed a small jar of ink and smashed it against the wall, watching as the black oozed down the wall like blood.
He noticed a glass of Absinthe on the ground beside him that was a few days old. He picked it up and took a long swig. The green fluids flying down his throat, burning it like hot acidic molten lava. He took several more swigs of the alcoholic beverage, ignoring the noxious taste, and indulging in the hallucinations it gave him. When he was finished he smiled drunkenly and placed the glass on the floor.
He glanced back at the tiny Papillion, a grin of camaraderie on his face, which slowly vanished. " Now that pathetic insect is mocking my beloved!" Christian thought enraged.
The splendidly colored creature seemed to have a cruel mocking grin on her face. And Christian swore he could hear the bug singing in a high-pitched voice.
" A kiss on the hand may be quite continental but diamonds are a girls best friend! A kiss may be grand but it, wont pay the rental on your humble flat! Or help you feed your meow pussycat!" Diamante fluttered her wings, and in Christian's blurred and drunken vision it looked like the butterfly was dancing.
" Stop it!" He snapped. " Have you no feeling? I have just told you about my most painful experience and you mock me so!" Tears, like little shards of jagged glass slipped down his cheeks.
And now he heard a different song, in the same cryptic voice. A song he could never ever forgive.
" Ding dong the witch is dead! Which witch? The wicked witch that's who!"
Christian leapt up, and the butterfly fluttered around the room in fear, but Christian still heard it mocking him.
" I'm sorry Christian, I, I, I, I'm dying."
Christian yelled and picked up his typewriter and tried to squash the little creature, but missing by a long shot. His anger bubbling up inside him, erupting, and burning anyone who came within contact.
"I'm staying with Duke. After I left you, the Duke came to me and offered me everything, everything I've ever dreamed of. He has one condition, I must never see you again, I'm sorry."
"Stop it!" Christian wailed, "Stop tormenting me! What did I ever do to you?"
" The truth? The truth is. I am the Hindu courtesan and I chose the Maharaja, that's how the story really ends."
Christian stood glaring at the butterfly that hovered above him. He was hyperventilating, his anger had reached its peak, and he was near his breaking point. One swift swing of his arm and he could catch the little demon, the pathetic insolent vermin.
" Come what may! I will love you until my dying day." That was it, he could take no more of it, and he lashed out, grabbing the creature in the palm of his hand.
" See you in hell." He whispered, and crushed the delicate, and beautiful insect in his hand, watching as dust and intricately colored wing particles fell to the floor.
Like a cat Christian crept back to his dark corner, and huddled up in it, rocking back and forth very slowly. She was the cause of his joy, his love, his maturity, his pain, his agony, and his destruction. With each passing day he was growing more mentally instable and yet, all he could think about. was her.
A/N: Wow, that was crappy! -Turns to her hostage Ewan- this is all you fault!
Ewan: Ach shut up Lassie! Ye dinea noe wut ye are talking bout!
A/N: I do not own any of the characters of Moulin Rouge, or the movie it's self.. So don't waste your breath. Oh but I do own Diamante, but who would want a butterfly, honestly there are a million of them.
Oh my lord, another sad and depressing fiction by me! When will the madness end!! Really people I am not some psycho delusional morbid death child, I'm just following my muse. In real life I am really quite bubbly. (Most of the time.)
Thank you to the author of "The butterfly" for the inspiration.oh and Papillion is French for butterfly.
*~*~*~*~*
Christian sat huddled in the darkest corner of his shabby unkempt garret, clutching his Absinthe in hand with a death grip. He brought his sullen blood shot green eyes up two the window ledge, allowing them to adjust to the early morning light that was seeping in. In the corner of the window pane, hung a cocoon that was slowly bursting open, after long moments, a wet butterfly emerged, unfolding its wings and slowly batting them. Christian sat avidly fixated on this little creature, this symbol of life, and reincarnation, and how he loathed it. After a few moments the little butterfly began fluttering around the apartment rapidly, and rested on Christian's nose. Every few seconds it spread it's magnificently colored wings, azure, violet, scarlet, yellow, orange, all in an array of symmetrical patterns, it was the most perfect creature he had seen. Well at least since death took it's hold on HER, his one and only, his soul mate, his life, his love, his all, Satine.
"Well look at you." His once passionate love filled voice, croaked, hoarsely. " So vibrantly colored, so healthy, so full of life. Your like a diamond in many ways, yes, I think I shall call you Diamante. Yes Diamante is the perfect name for such a beautiful Papillion as yourself." He cooed stupidly.
Diamante shifted on his nose and then glanced up at him. For some reason not afraid of the broken creature that was before her, maybe it was his deep green eyes, that reflected a little image of what he used to be, or maybe it was the friendly tone in which he spoke, or maybe there was something about his aura.
" Diamante we are to very different beings you and I. And yet, at one point we were very alike, even though you had not yet come into existence. You see I had once been a naïve poet, full of love, life, and this feeling that once you had love nothing could go wrong, and I was always carefree. But things can go wrong my little friend. oh they can. My life is the perfect example of this." He leaned against the wall, for his speech would attest to be a long one.
" Like many of the most wonderful, and yet tragic stories, this is all about one woman. They say love can overcome all of life's precarious obstacles but that is not necessarily so, you see my friend the woman I loved, with all my heart, is dead. And her death has done this to me. Turned me into a monster, hiding day in and day out from the light, never speaking to anyone from my past, I no longer trust them. You see my petite Diamante, my Satine had been dying the duration of the time I knew her. They knew, but did nothing! They were so absorbed in making money off the worthless trash play that I wrote, and how the show must go on, that they didn't stop to think that the most beautiful creature in the world could die. And on top of all that, they made her toy with my emotions, but our love prevailed, and boy did we show them. And we showed that old decrepit duke that he couldn't stop us from loving each other until the end of time! As the curtain fell on our production, which had been a reflective look at our affair, the air of celebration died. It died as she began to take her last shuddering breaths. Consumption, my dear is a horrible disease that slowly and painfully deteriorates the lungs, as you bleed your self-out from the inside. She died, right they're in my arms, without even so much as an I love you, and there I sat blubbering and wailing like a fool!" Christian was growing very scary, it seemed as though those words had brought back up to the surface all the pain, and rage he had ever felt in his life. Diamante fluttered off his nose, but then landed again on his hand, showing that his story was to intriguing to miss out on.
" And now I hate her, I hate her for doing this to me. For leaving me this way! Didn't I tell her not to? Did I not tell her that I could not survive without her sweet love? And now look at me! I'm a monster because of her! Here I sit day after day, wasting away clinging to the beauty that once was. All my word is in shades of gray, black and white. She had no right to die! But you know what I hate even more?" He snarled maliciously. " I hate those who try and be more beautiful than her, for she was the only true and perfect beauty in this world. And what good is false beauty without true beauty?" A plan for revenge was growing in Christian's head.
" I hate those whores on the street who do themselves up with heavy makeup. They think it makes them look like her, but it only makes me want to gag. Oh how I could kill those disgusting vermin." He grabbed a small jar of ink and smashed it against the wall, watching as the black oozed down the wall like blood.
He noticed a glass of Absinthe on the ground beside him that was a few days old. He picked it up and took a long swig. The green fluids flying down his throat, burning it like hot acidic molten lava. He took several more swigs of the alcoholic beverage, ignoring the noxious taste, and indulging in the hallucinations it gave him. When he was finished he smiled drunkenly and placed the glass on the floor.
He glanced back at the tiny Papillion, a grin of camaraderie on his face, which slowly vanished. " Now that pathetic insect is mocking my beloved!" Christian thought enraged.
The splendidly colored creature seemed to have a cruel mocking grin on her face. And Christian swore he could hear the bug singing in a high-pitched voice.
" A kiss on the hand may be quite continental but diamonds are a girls best friend! A kiss may be grand but it, wont pay the rental on your humble flat! Or help you feed your meow pussycat!" Diamante fluttered her wings, and in Christian's blurred and drunken vision it looked like the butterfly was dancing.
" Stop it!" He snapped. " Have you no feeling? I have just told you about my most painful experience and you mock me so!" Tears, like little shards of jagged glass slipped down his cheeks.
And now he heard a different song, in the same cryptic voice. A song he could never ever forgive.
" Ding dong the witch is dead! Which witch? The wicked witch that's who!"
Christian leapt up, and the butterfly fluttered around the room in fear, but Christian still heard it mocking him.
" I'm sorry Christian, I, I, I, I'm dying."
Christian yelled and picked up his typewriter and tried to squash the little creature, but missing by a long shot. His anger bubbling up inside him, erupting, and burning anyone who came within contact.
"I'm staying with Duke. After I left you, the Duke came to me and offered me everything, everything I've ever dreamed of. He has one condition, I must never see you again, I'm sorry."
"Stop it!" Christian wailed, "Stop tormenting me! What did I ever do to you?"
" The truth? The truth is. I am the Hindu courtesan and I chose the Maharaja, that's how the story really ends."
Christian stood glaring at the butterfly that hovered above him. He was hyperventilating, his anger had reached its peak, and he was near his breaking point. One swift swing of his arm and he could catch the little demon, the pathetic insolent vermin.
" Come what may! I will love you until my dying day." That was it, he could take no more of it, and he lashed out, grabbing the creature in the palm of his hand.
" See you in hell." He whispered, and crushed the delicate, and beautiful insect in his hand, watching as dust and intricately colored wing particles fell to the floor.
Like a cat Christian crept back to his dark corner, and huddled up in it, rocking back and forth very slowly. She was the cause of his joy, his love, his maturity, his pain, his agony, and his destruction. With each passing day he was growing more mentally instable and yet, all he could think about. was her.
A/N: Wow, that was crappy! -Turns to her hostage Ewan- this is all you fault!
Ewan: Ach shut up Lassie! Ye dinea noe wut ye are talking bout!