prodigalwatcher | SM - Application prompts for serious

Write a 100-word drabble on the topic "Passion".

Passion is a liability. More than any narcotic or illicit substance on Earth, it can cloud judgment, impair rational thought and interfere with anything resembling a clear, solid sense of right and wrong. Passion has no place in this fight. Our calm must match their rage, our cold determination their incensed lust for destruction. The enemy will use every weapon, every advantage it can find, and exploit the slightest chink in the unwary man's armour. Passion has undone or very nearly undone every would-be Champion I have ever known, distracting them from their cause and leaving them weakened and vulnerable.

(100)

Write 300-600 words (third person) on the topic of "Honor".

Wesley lowered his eyes, looking to any interested observer as if he were marshalling his entire attention on the amber liquid swirling up the sides of the heavy-bottomed glass tumbler in his hand. It was close to sunrise, closer than most mortal citizens of Los Angeles would have liked, but then most of the occupants of this particular bar were not mortal citizens. Between the small knot of loudly obnoxious fraternity brothers turned vampires, the two only barely identifiable demons attempting to hustle one another over the billiards table and the various other inhuman individuals, Wesley and the informant with whom he was scheduled to meet would be in the vast minority.

The idea of informants had once sat very poorly with Wesley. In another life, he had been adamant that intelligence regarding one's enemies could only be honourably acquired in two ways: either direct observation of the enemy camp, or through diligent and painstaking research. Wesley the Watcher had excelled at the latter, though he'd had precious little experience with the former. Of course, he was somewhat unsure about the concept of espionage, though at the time if pressed for an opinion, he would have maintained that in certain circumstances, there might be no other recourse but such underhanded methods.

Informants, though, were weak-minded and weak-willed individuals, willing to sell out whatever cause or leader to whom they'd given their allegiance for whatever pittance of a price they asked. It was as dishonourable a situation as Wesley could have conceived, being so selfish and self-serving as to put a price on loyalty and on personal morality. There were ways, his father had always taught him, to behave, even in war. Otherwise, a man might become the exact thing he professed to oppose.

Wesley's eyes shifted up as the chair opposite him creaked, taking the weight of the informant, a human male in his mid thirties, desperate-looking, disheveled and unshaven. Setting the glass down on the table, Wesley regarded the man.

"Mr. Torrance?" Wesley asked casually.

"Yeah," the man replied, clearly nervous. "You got my money? You know I'm charging more to meet."

"A wise policy," Wesley replied. "Especially if you know that your information is faulty and can lead to unwanted loss of life. Unfortunately, Mr. Torrance, you should have set a higher price for yourself."

Before the informant could respond, there was a sharp, hollow report, and the end of the table in front of Torrance exploded in splinters and smoke. The body slid backwards a foot before crashing to the floor. Wesley was on his feet, pumping the next shell into the chamber of his shotgun. The eyes of a dozen demons found him, discovered that the body on the floor was a human, then returned to their own business.

Wesley paused a moment to finish his drink and look down on the informant. He walked away, shaking his head. No honour at all.

(487)

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The One Who Has Returned

SM - Application prompts for serious_muses

SM - Application prompts for serious_muses

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