Author's notes: Okay. Here I go. A random thought entered my mind at
10.51pm exactly, so I sat down at my computer and began. Like the hordes of
people out there, I love the matrix, and I am somewhat unhealthily obsessed
with a certain pair of dread-locked albinos. . .;)
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. It saddens me so. If anybody needs me, I'll be in the fridge. (
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Chapter 1
Mondays. They were never good things. Whether it was work, school or simply the beginning of a new week that peeled you from your comfy bed at various stages of early morning, it was never greeted with a good feeling.
The sunshine didn't help either, really. It was a fake, watery sunshine, the kind that didn't quite warm the world up to a satisfied degree, but just left it with a feeling of incompleteness, like a half finished portrait. At exactly 8.56 in the morning, it leaked in through the windows of the tastefully done office, and draped the ebony desk in a wan light. A pair of well-kept hands- one resting lightly on the other- were placed carefully on this desk. They belonged to a smart dressed man, tailored neatly in an expensive suit. He was known as the Merovingian, and had a reputation for liking tastefully-done offices and expensive suits. He was equally known for disliking Mondays. At this precise moment, he was boring a hole in the door facing him with his monotonous gaze. He was waiting. With a sigh, he checked the designer clock that was hung considerately above the door. It was exactly ten seconds till 9.00. He waited. . .
A knock. Just one, but it was enough.
"Come in." Merovingian said, his voice a heady mix of badly disguised annoyance and the recognisable edge of a Parisian accent. He watched the door swing forward, as two men came in, one closely followed by the other. To another the appearance of the pair would have at least provoked a startled noise somewhere at the back of the throat, or perhaps a look of pure disbelief, but not Merovingian. He had seen these two every day for decades, knew everything about them, created them. But still he regarded them suspiciously.
Drenched from head to foot in white- suits, shoes- even their skin was a pasty, almost lifeless shade. This would have been strange enough- they contrasted so horribly with the greys and blacks of the suits their colleagues had to wear. Maybe it was this, or the dreadlocks that hung down from their heads, or even the dark sunglasses that made some people cross to the other side of the street when they saw them coming. Or maybe it was because they were identical. The same in every single aspect, in appearance, character- Merovingian knew this, he had programmed them that way. They were never made for subtlety- Merovingian had any enemies and so hired many bodyguards, much more than just these two. These were showpieces, like almost everything else he owned- the suits, fast cars, chateaux, offices. The Merovingian was, for a better word, loaded. And he liked everyone to know it.
He realised that the Twins were looking at him now, expecting him to say something. They both had their heads cocked in the exact way, their expressions identical. Good. That meant they were both listening. Merovingian leant back in his chair, making a steeple out of his fingers and smiling in a, what the Twins had come to learn, a very unpleasant way. Whenever the Merovingian was happy, somebody somewhere undoubtedly was not.
"Well," He breathed.
Silence. The Twins knew better than to say anything.
"You two 'ave been a valuable asset to my, ah, team." Merovingian said. " But you do 'ave, one fault. I notice you failed in your last assignment. I zhink I know why; it all comes down to one, inevitable flaw. It is not in your technique, but. . . something else."
The Twin to his left shifted his weight uncomfortably.
"Ah. You see, you two. Wonderful as you may be, I feel you 'ave alienated yourselves from people. You do nothing, but work for me. You talk to no-one except me. You follow my orders and do my bidding and that is eet. It 'as 'ad an affect on you. You no longer think like one of them, which is an awful disadvantage. You are. . .not human enough. Not anymore. And if you can't pass for. . . almost normal, people will start asking questions, and zen you are no good to me at all, understand? Oo needs body guards who don't even act human?"
The Twins both nodded, just once.
"So, it comes down to zis. You are on hiatus until you prove to me-both of you- can be passed for normal humans. It does not 'ave to be a complex process. My darling wife has suggested that you find a way to be accepted into ze closest bond humans have-" Menovirgian stopped there, for added effect. The words were rolling off his tongue so easily, they almost tasted sweet. After the final, rather melodramatic pause he could unveil his, or rather Persephone's, plan. He took a breath.
"-A relationship." He said simply.
He mentally noted the look of slight confusion on the Twins faces. By and by, the things their employer had asked them had been somewhat. . .colourful (assassinating any troublesome businessmen, blowing up various buildings, and once, spying on Persephone) but this was undoubtedly the strangest assignment they had undertook. Finally they collectively found their voice, though it was still one of bewilderment and confusion:
"Relationship?" One asked.
"How?" The other, conveniently known as Two, said.
"With someone in the Matrix?"
"For how long?"
Finally they both settled on a fact that they both knew with certainty.
"We. . ."
". . .Are confused."
Merovingian smiled wider, revealing perfect, white teeth.
"Genius, isn't it? Nobody will let you take them out to dinner unless you are normal. You will be judged by humans, for your humanity. It's the perfect test."
"Dinner?" Two quizzed, raising a pale eyebrow. "But we're not programmed to- "
"You are programmed to learn, are you not?" Merovingian cut in. "Learn. And do it fast. Before I fire the both of you. I'll be checking up on your progress from time to time. Now-" He massaged his temples and closed his eyes, as though he had grown tired of the conversation. "Get out."
Silently both left, their faces still contorted in a way of pure confusion. A relationship. How could one single word leave them feeling so apprehensive?
The Merovingian settled back in his chair and smiled his maliciously evil smile. Even if it didn't work, if the Twins failed miserably and neither of them managed to find a date- it would still entertain him for a couple of weeks. Oh, this was going to be interesting. . .
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Well done! You made it to the end! Bravo! Liked it? Hated it? Any suggestions for what happens next? Well, get those fingers on those keypads and get busy. Everyone who reviews gets cookies. Not real ones, obviously, but it's the thought that counts. . . right?
I will try to update as often as possible, and since my summer holidays are coming up I should have a lot of spare time on my hands so. . . we'll have to wait and see. Remember reviews make me type faster!
Love you all, you beautiful people.
~*Eddie*~
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. It saddens me so. If anybody needs me, I'll be in the fridge. (
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Chapter 1
Mondays. They were never good things. Whether it was work, school or simply the beginning of a new week that peeled you from your comfy bed at various stages of early morning, it was never greeted with a good feeling.
The sunshine didn't help either, really. It was a fake, watery sunshine, the kind that didn't quite warm the world up to a satisfied degree, but just left it with a feeling of incompleteness, like a half finished portrait. At exactly 8.56 in the morning, it leaked in through the windows of the tastefully done office, and draped the ebony desk in a wan light. A pair of well-kept hands- one resting lightly on the other- were placed carefully on this desk. They belonged to a smart dressed man, tailored neatly in an expensive suit. He was known as the Merovingian, and had a reputation for liking tastefully-done offices and expensive suits. He was equally known for disliking Mondays. At this precise moment, he was boring a hole in the door facing him with his monotonous gaze. He was waiting. With a sigh, he checked the designer clock that was hung considerately above the door. It was exactly ten seconds till 9.00. He waited. . .
A knock. Just one, but it was enough.
"Come in." Merovingian said, his voice a heady mix of badly disguised annoyance and the recognisable edge of a Parisian accent. He watched the door swing forward, as two men came in, one closely followed by the other. To another the appearance of the pair would have at least provoked a startled noise somewhere at the back of the throat, or perhaps a look of pure disbelief, but not Merovingian. He had seen these two every day for decades, knew everything about them, created them. But still he regarded them suspiciously.
Drenched from head to foot in white- suits, shoes- even their skin was a pasty, almost lifeless shade. This would have been strange enough- they contrasted so horribly with the greys and blacks of the suits their colleagues had to wear. Maybe it was this, or the dreadlocks that hung down from their heads, or even the dark sunglasses that made some people cross to the other side of the street when they saw them coming. Or maybe it was because they were identical. The same in every single aspect, in appearance, character- Merovingian knew this, he had programmed them that way. They were never made for subtlety- Merovingian had any enemies and so hired many bodyguards, much more than just these two. These were showpieces, like almost everything else he owned- the suits, fast cars, chateaux, offices. The Merovingian was, for a better word, loaded. And he liked everyone to know it.
He realised that the Twins were looking at him now, expecting him to say something. They both had their heads cocked in the exact way, their expressions identical. Good. That meant they were both listening. Merovingian leant back in his chair, making a steeple out of his fingers and smiling in a, what the Twins had come to learn, a very unpleasant way. Whenever the Merovingian was happy, somebody somewhere undoubtedly was not.
"Well," He breathed.
Silence. The Twins knew better than to say anything.
"You two 'ave been a valuable asset to my, ah, team." Merovingian said. " But you do 'ave, one fault. I notice you failed in your last assignment. I zhink I know why; it all comes down to one, inevitable flaw. It is not in your technique, but. . . something else."
The Twin to his left shifted his weight uncomfortably.
"Ah. You see, you two. Wonderful as you may be, I feel you 'ave alienated yourselves from people. You do nothing, but work for me. You talk to no-one except me. You follow my orders and do my bidding and that is eet. It 'as 'ad an affect on you. You no longer think like one of them, which is an awful disadvantage. You are. . .not human enough. Not anymore. And if you can't pass for. . . almost normal, people will start asking questions, and zen you are no good to me at all, understand? Oo needs body guards who don't even act human?"
The Twins both nodded, just once.
"So, it comes down to zis. You are on hiatus until you prove to me-both of you- can be passed for normal humans. It does not 'ave to be a complex process. My darling wife has suggested that you find a way to be accepted into ze closest bond humans have-" Menovirgian stopped there, for added effect. The words were rolling off his tongue so easily, they almost tasted sweet. After the final, rather melodramatic pause he could unveil his, or rather Persephone's, plan. He took a breath.
"-A relationship." He said simply.
He mentally noted the look of slight confusion on the Twins faces. By and by, the things their employer had asked them had been somewhat. . .colourful (assassinating any troublesome businessmen, blowing up various buildings, and once, spying on Persephone) but this was undoubtedly the strangest assignment they had undertook. Finally they collectively found their voice, though it was still one of bewilderment and confusion:
"Relationship?" One asked.
"How?" The other, conveniently known as Two, said.
"With someone in the Matrix?"
"For how long?"
Finally they both settled on a fact that they both knew with certainty.
"We. . ."
". . .Are confused."
Merovingian smiled wider, revealing perfect, white teeth.
"Genius, isn't it? Nobody will let you take them out to dinner unless you are normal. You will be judged by humans, for your humanity. It's the perfect test."
"Dinner?" Two quizzed, raising a pale eyebrow. "But we're not programmed to- "
"You are programmed to learn, are you not?" Merovingian cut in. "Learn. And do it fast. Before I fire the both of you. I'll be checking up on your progress from time to time. Now-" He massaged his temples and closed his eyes, as though he had grown tired of the conversation. "Get out."
Silently both left, their faces still contorted in a way of pure confusion. A relationship. How could one single word leave them feeling so apprehensive?
The Merovingian settled back in his chair and smiled his maliciously evil smile. Even if it didn't work, if the Twins failed miserably and neither of them managed to find a date- it would still entertain him for a couple of weeks. Oh, this was going to be interesting. . .
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Well done! You made it to the end! Bravo! Liked it? Hated it? Any suggestions for what happens next? Well, get those fingers on those keypads and get busy. Everyone who reviews gets cookies. Not real ones, obviously, but it's the thought that counts. . . right?
I will try to update as often as possible, and since my summer holidays are coming up I should have a lot of spare time on my hands so. . . we'll have to wait and see. Remember reviews make me type faster!
Love you all, you beautiful people.
~*Eddie*~