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Jul. 16th, 2007 09:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
axesladeA little piece I just wrote as a response to a challenge on the forums. The challenge was to write something to do with the idea of 'integrity'. This uses a character from one of my rps who I haven't played with in awhile. I was kind of shocked when she cleared her throat and said 'umm, I think I can give you a pretty good piece about that'. So, this is Malorie's take on
Malorie was used to being asked all kinds of questions. How much of what happened in her stories she had really done (none), her feelings for her mother and father (respectively much missed, and dead as far as she cared to know), her relationship with her sister (complicated) and many other things.
This one, however, threw her for a loop. It wasn't an interviewer who had asked, it was one of those stupid prompts she looked at when she sometimes had trouble writing.
'Have you maintained your integrity? Was this hard? If you haven't, what made you lose it?'
A stumper. She sat there chewing her pen for an hour, mulling it over, even though in the dark recesses of her mind dark haired men and jewel-eyed women were whispering naughty things.
Had she maintained her integrity? Well, that depended. What was 'integrity?' Adherence to a strict moral code of some sort. Okay. Well, that made it harder.
So, she'd been angry when her father had cheated and left because her morals said that was wrong. But she'd put up with her baby sister having four children by three different men. She made a point not to drink or smoke or do drugs, ever, because it was wrong. Yet, when Jenny got busted by the cops, she just sighed and took the kids for the month.
And of course, there was the sex. Malorie believed deep in her heart that it was wrong to sleep with someone you weren't in a serious relationship with, that sex could never be casual. And, since she had never trusted enough to get into a relationship, she was still a virgin at almost thrity. Yet, to take care of her sister and live a comfortable life, she wrote stories about men and women who met in smoky bars and an hour later were tying each other up and licking blood off knives.
At some point the noises of the real world snapped Malorie out of her mind and she sighed, shutting the laptop. Well, there was one question she'd never be answer, she decided, because intgerity was just too damn subjective.
Malorie was used to being asked all kinds of questions. How much of what happened in her stories she had really done (none), her feelings for her mother and father (respectively much missed, and dead as far as she cared to know), her relationship with her sister (complicated) and many other things.
This one, however, threw her for a loop. It wasn't an interviewer who had asked, it was one of those stupid prompts she looked at when she sometimes had trouble writing.
'Have you maintained your integrity? Was this hard? If you haven't, what made you lose it?'
A stumper. She sat there chewing her pen for an hour, mulling it over, even though in the dark recesses of her mind dark haired men and jewel-eyed women were whispering naughty things.
Had she maintained her integrity? Well, that depended. What was 'integrity?' Adherence to a strict moral code of some sort. Okay. Well, that made it harder.
So, she'd been angry when her father had cheated and left because her morals said that was wrong. But she'd put up with her baby sister having four children by three different men. She made a point not to drink or smoke or do drugs, ever, because it was wrong. Yet, when Jenny got busted by the cops, she just sighed and took the kids for the month.
And of course, there was the sex. Malorie believed deep in her heart that it was wrong to sleep with someone you weren't in a serious relationship with, that sex could never be casual. And, since she had never trusted enough to get into a relationship, she was still a virgin at almost thrity. Yet, to take care of her sister and live a comfortable life, she wrote stories about men and women who met in smoky bars and an hour later were tying each other up and licking blood off knives.
At some point the noises of the real world snapped Malorie out of her mind and she sighed, shutting the laptop. Well, there was one question she'd never be answer, she decided, because intgerity was just too damn subjective.
