NDU prompt -Lying prompt
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felinefablesPrompt request by miraeyeteeth
There is a myth about how twins can keep no secrets from one another. Piki had learned early on that this was not the case, at least not in the Black family. It was just a matter of being careful. A whispered word here, a well kept secret there, and you could achieve just about anything. Especially when it came to keeping things from Pitch. Oh he discovered the truth, but not before it was too late.
It was Piki’s first established play. It marked him as a young prodigy who had written a stunning story, telling bout a dark king who had been a disgraced general until he had given his soul to a shadowy metaphor of the devil to get revenge on his enemies.
And it was not Piki’s story.
At times he could still see Pitch’s face when he leaned how Piki’s play had been accepted with open arms by a publisher that their father knew. The play that Pitch had worked on through many a night, had eagerly talked about it with his twin, had told Piki every single detail or possible different ideas for later, that he hadn’t told their parents about because Pitch had wanted to wait until he was certain it was worth publishing before revealing his aspirations to become a playwright. And no one would believe him, all because he had forgotten a simple detail: always sign your work.
The script was hand written, but the twins handwriting was so similar that they could easily copy one another, a feat they had made use of for schoolwork in their early years, especially when helping with homework. The only difference was in their signature. And Pitch had made the mistake of trusting his twin with his work.
Really, it had almost been too easy to write his own signature on every single page, Piki thought. But he had no regrets about it, when their father’s publisher friend had informed the twins’ parents about how he had read Piki’s script and had found it to be amazing. Their parents had been so proud of their ‘prodigal’ son, thinking that Pitch’s shocked silence had been his own form of praise, until he had asked Piki to meet with him in private. Piki knew what was coming of course, but wasn’t too bothered about it, not when he had achieved his goal.
“How could you?” Pitch had demanded from Piki when they were alone, “how could you just do this? And to me of all people?”
“Be serious, Pitch.” Piki replied coolly, “this family can only have one playwright, and I am the better choice. I have better looks and charisma. I can talk to people, you sneer at the smallest thing. The play would die before it got off the ground in your hands, while I can make it fly.”
“You really believe that.” Pitch said in a neutral tone that at the time should have been alarming.
“I don’t believe it, I know it.” Piki had replied.
Pitch’s expression had darkened at that.
“Well ‘know’ this. If you can’t be honest to me, then I should just stop being honest with you.” He said, “and you know what else? I hope one day you get stabbed in the back and learn how much it fucking hurts. I hope your heart breaks the way you broke mine. And I hope you go to Hell!” With that he stormed off, shoving his way past their parents who had come to congratulate Piki once more.
“What in the world was that about?” Their mother had asked. Piki just smiled and shrugged. “Oh, you know Pitch. He got jealous over my success and had to express it in the most immature way possible.”
What was another lie at this point?
miraeyeteethThere is a myth about how twins can keep no secrets from one another. Piki had learned early on that this was not the case, at least not in the Black family. It was just a matter of being careful. A whispered word here, a well kept secret there, and you could achieve just about anything. Especially when it came to keeping things from Pitch. Oh he discovered the truth, but not before it was too late.
It was Piki’s first established play. It marked him as a young prodigy who had written a stunning story, telling bout a dark king who had been a disgraced general until he had given his soul to a shadowy metaphor of the devil to get revenge on his enemies.
And it was not Piki’s story.
At times he could still see Pitch’s face when he leaned how Piki’s play had been accepted with open arms by a publisher that their father knew. The play that Pitch had worked on through many a night, had eagerly talked about it with his twin, had told Piki every single detail or possible different ideas for later, that he hadn’t told their parents about because Pitch had wanted to wait until he was certain it was worth publishing before revealing his aspirations to become a playwright. And no one would believe him, all because he had forgotten a simple detail: always sign your work.
The script was hand written, but the twins handwriting was so similar that they could easily copy one another, a feat they had made use of for schoolwork in their early years, especially when helping with homework. The only difference was in their signature. And Pitch had made the mistake of trusting his twin with his work.
Really, it had almost been too easy to write his own signature on every single page, Piki thought. But he had no regrets about it, when their father’s publisher friend had informed the twins’ parents about how he had read Piki’s script and had found it to be amazing. Their parents had been so proud of their ‘prodigal’ son, thinking that Pitch’s shocked silence had been his own form of praise, until he had asked Piki to meet with him in private. Piki knew what was coming of course, but wasn’t too bothered about it, not when he had achieved his goal.
“How could you?” Pitch had demanded from Piki when they were alone, “how could you just do this? And to me of all people?”
“Be serious, Pitch.” Piki replied coolly, “this family can only have one playwright, and I am the better choice. I have better looks and charisma. I can talk to people, you sneer at the smallest thing. The play would die before it got off the ground in your hands, while I can make it fly.”
“You really believe that.” Pitch said in a neutral tone that at the time should have been alarming.
“I don’t believe it, I know it.” Piki had replied.
Pitch’s expression had darkened at that.
“Well ‘know’ this. If you can’t be honest to me, then I should just stop being honest with you.” He said, “and you know what else? I hope one day you get stabbed in the back and learn how much it fucking hurts. I hope your heart breaks the way you broke mine. And I hope you go to Hell!” With that he stormed off, shoving his way past their parents who had come to congratulate Piki once more.
“What in the world was that about?” Their mother had asked. Piki just smiled and shrugged. “Oh, you know Pitch. He got jealous over my success and had to express it in the most immature way possible.”
What was another lie at this point?
