31_days fic: MxO-related

[matrixrefugee]

Title: No Room for Failures
Day/Theme: July 22: I'll throw you to the floor
Series: "The Matrix Online"
Character/Pairing: Merovingian/Flood, possible pre-slash
Rating: PG-13

Note: This is one of my guilty pleasure pairings; I don't doubt there's a lot of subtext-laden tension between these two fellows... And this also relates to the events of Chapter 4.1 of the storyline.


"Vous magma de l'eau dégoûtante..." the Merovingian snarled, seizing Flood by the shirt front and slinging him to the floor. The force of his superior's gesture sent the shorter Exile skidding on his back across the Persian carpet, till he barked up against the Merovingian's desk. He tried to roll out of the way as the King of the Exiles lunged at him, but Flood moved too slowly. The Merovingian pinned him to the floor, kneeling over him, holding him down by the throat.

"And just how do you explain zis... failure to protect one of ze most vital members of my circle, mm?" the Merovingian asked, his voice softened to a brutal carress that slithered through his trapped lackey's jarring neural pathways. He loosened his grip on Flood's throat, enough to let him speak, but keeping his hand on the shorter male's neck as a warning.

"It was the fault of the incompetants among your operatives... My plans were foolproof, but they dragged their heels, arriving too late on the scene to prevent his capture. They failed to follow orders so simple --"

The Merovingian pressed his hand down on Flood's throat, silencing him.

"And so it cost us the Effectuator; and how are we to maintain the connection between my realm and the Matrix without his presence?" The Merovingian shifted and rose as if he would free his trapped servant. Flood started to get up, but his employer grabbed him by the collar and flung him face downward on the desktop, holding him down by pressing his body against the shorter Exile. Flood tried not to wince, knowing any show of discomfort would only satisfy his superior's sadistic tastes, but he felt a shudder run through his frame. Whatever relief he'd felt on hearing of the Machines' capture of the tasteless, badly-dressed hack whose only real value lay in his ability to maintain the Merovingian's constructs, all that faded away, replaced by a creeping sense of disgust and desperation.

"Find a way to free him, or you will find yourself at the mercy of the House-Builder's watchdogs," the Merovingian warned, hissing in and let go of Flood before stalking out of the office. Flood got up, rubbing his neck, then reached for the phone on the desktop and dialled a number. While the line rang, he poured himself a drink from the decanter on the other end of the desk. This was going to be a long night...

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Vous magma de l'eau dégoûtante = You puddle of dirty water. My theory is that Flood was a weather regulator before his Exile...

Comments

[he-dreams-awake.livejournal.com]

Formatting of the French is wrong: it's like saying "Toi idiot", it just doesn't work. If you ran it through Babelfish, my advice: Babelfish doesn't get idioms. Vous etes un.... that works.

Icon's irrelevant. Just don't feel like using another one.