If any of you think that I own Cowboy Bebop or any of its characters,
please turn your computer off and get some sleep, you probably need it.
Its my first, so here goes nothing...
Reflections
Seated at the edge of an unmade bed, he outstretched his arm and brought it to himself once more, repeating the process over and over, polishing the gleaming blade until it shone like fire in his hands. Carelessly flinging the dingy cloth away, he held the weapon up to the light.
The katana shone as he slowly angled it in what little light streamed from outside. The light's reflection slid off the blade like water as it turned, like a morbid yet beautiful dance.
Wait. He furrowed his forehead ever so slightly, and agonizingly reversed the path of the blade.
There it was.
An image of a woman appeared, strewn among rumpled covers, as used as the bed itself. The smooth curve of her naked back disappeared into the sea of long golden waves that disguised her face. This did not matter. He knew who she was.
Focusing slightly on the motions he pulled the sword through now, he saw another image appear in-between reflections of light, like waves upon a pool's surface.
Slowly, he tilted the blade to recover the image.
The face was visible this time: a man's face. Crowned with dark moss-green hair, and fine angular features. The eyes were drew the focus, two rich dark pools of mahogany brown that had a fraction of a shade difference between them. His mouth was pulled into a cocky smirk, matching the look in his eyes that shone with cynical comradery.
He knew who that man was as well.
With indifference he moved the weapon slightly, sliding the image off along with the waves of light that hit the polished surface.
Satisfied with his work, the man pulled the blade towards him, holding it closely to his face.
And as he did, one more image appeared.
A sharply angled face, with hard cold eyes stared out of the metal, almost completely shrouded by the silver white hair that framed it. The eyes slightly narrowed for a moment, then relaxed with the eyelids falling to halfway cover them, casually frigid and distant.
Slowly standing, the man dropped his arm with the weapon to his side, then looked out his one window at the clouded and ominous sky.
There's no need to gaze at a reflection. 'It's just like the day he died. Exactly like the day he almost died.'
A knock. Accompanied by a voice: "Vicious, the car is at the front entrance"
Raising the blade, his gaze lingers languidly on the light rippling on the metal.
'The eternally-shifting triangle we created ends today.'
Sheathing his katana at his side, Vicious turns and strides to the door.
'Everything ends today.'
Reflections
Seated at the edge of an unmade bed, he outstretched his arm and brought it to himself once more, repeating the process over and over, polishing the gleaming blade until it shone like fire in his hands. Carelessly flinging the dingy cloth away, he held the weapon up to the light.
The katana shone as he slowly angled it in what little light streamed from outside. The light's reflection slid off the blade like water as it turned, like a morbid yet beautiful dance.
Wait. He furrowed his forehead ever so slightly, and agonizingly reversed the path of the blade.
There it was.
An image of a woman appeared, strewn among rumpled covers, as used as the bed itself. The smooth curve of her naked back disappeared into the sea of long golden waves that disguised her face. This did not matter. He knew who she was.
Focusing slightly on the motions he pulled the sword through now, he saw another image appear in-between reflections of light, like waves upon a pool's surface.
Slowly, he tilted the blade to recover the image.
The face was visible this time: a man's face. Crowned with dark moss-green hair, and fine angular features. The eyes were drew the focus, two rich dark pools of mahogany brown that had a fraction of a shade difference between them. His mouth was pulled into a cocky smirk, matching the look in his eyes that shone with cynical comradery.
He knew who that man was as well.
With indifference he moved the weapon slightly, sliding the image off along with the waves of light that hit the polished surface.
Satisfied with his work, the man pulled the blade towards him, holding it closely to his face.
And as he did, one more image appeared.
A sharply angled face, with hard cold eyes stared out of the metal, almost completely shrouded by the silver white hair that framed it. The eyes slightly narrowed for a moment, then relaxed with the eyelids falling to halfway cover them, casually frigid and distant.
Slowly standing, the man dropped his arm with the weapon to his side, then looked out his one window at the clouded and ominous sky.
There's no need to gaze at a reflection. 'It's just like the day he died. Exactly like the day he almost died.'
A knock. Accompanied by a voice: "Vicious, the car is at the front entrance"
Raising the blade, his gaze lingers languidly on the light rippling on the metal.
'The eternally-shifting triangle we created ends today.'
Sheathing his katana at his side, Vicious turns and strides to the door.
'Everything ends today.'