The Machinations Of Greed

Shackled or Unbound?

"Understood, Miss Gabriel."

He nods shortly, before standing up. His eyes are glued to her, waiting for further instructions as she herself gets onto her feet, grabbing her items in the process.

"..."

Silently, seemingly absentmindedly, Gabriel sneaks out from between the coffee table and the sofa she was sat on, heading towards the desk. Once she lowers herself onto her chair, she takes a look at everything she has kept on her desk. Her phone, some documents, a pair of glasses, a stapler, before finally looking up at A.

"...Oh, I'm sorry. You're still here... um, A, you can just return to cleaning. Sorry for calling you here unannounced."

"Understood, Miss Gabriel."

He answers almost instantly, his eyes locked onto every movement she makes. With another nod, he heads for the door, and promptly exits.

He takes a few steps down that same corridor, and views the wooden walls and floor, their deep brownish colour, and the way they freak under his weight. If this place didn't have someone living in it, you would think it'd be a haunted house, minus the cobwebs and the spiders.

He traces his hand along the railing, cut from the same cloth that the walls and floor are of, but then... he notices something. Something he doesn't think he's noticed before. Not once before.

A bird. One sitting on a tiny little twig within a cage. Sat on a small wooden pedestal, it has a feeder, a water tank, a mirror, a jingly toy, and its so-called 'home' in and of itself, is quite spacious.

He approaches it, and takes in its appearance. It's medium-sized, not too young, but not too old, and its feathers are a pearly, beautiful white in colour, only contrasted by its vermilion eyes.

"An albino dove."

He remarks, his 'mind' recognizing it with ease, given its trademark look.

"But it's trapped."

He thinks to himself, so, he crouches down to its level. It seems to study him too, tilting its head to the side, allowing one of its eyes to take in his face in return.

"...How lonely."

He ponders. And this bird, a dove, stares into him quietly. It doesn't move, and it doesn't make any noises like he thinks it should. It just lays in its spot, as if waiting for the Earth to reclaim its skin, flesh, and bones.

It isn't right.
"It is not right."

He says aloud, mostly to himself, and his eyes stay locked with the bird's. He stands straight again, and his head turns towards the doors to Gabriel's room.

"We should let it free."

He 'thinks' to himself, and he turns towards the door. Yet he fails to take a single step.

Shackles. Shackles bind his legs, and he looks down at them. He can't move an inch from his spot, like his own body is telling him not to return to her until he's completed his task of cleaning the house.

It isn't right.
"It is not right."

He mutters out loud. It's his body, not hers, or anyone else's, for that matter. So why can't he be in control? It's wrong. He deserves to be in control. It's his body. His 'flesh'. His 'bones'. His 'blood'. All of it is 'his'. Who is she to make demands of him?

It isn't right.
"It is not right."

Every thought he has feels like he's been forced to listen to a fork scratching against a ceramic plate. A loud, infuriating, daunting sound that threatens to consume all the energy you have to do anything with your day.

Regardless, he relents. Maybe he can free the dove of his own volition. He turns back to those red-tainted eyes, and he levels himself with it again. His hand reaches out for the cage's door, and his fingers hold onto it. He opens it, slowly but surely, and waits for the bird to fly out and explore the house, as one would expect.
.
.
.
Nothing. The bird simply stands by and watches. It continues to stare into his eyes from the same position. Is it even alive? How can it be alive if it doesn't want freedom? Freedom is life. To be unbound, is to be alive. To not be attached to any tracks means to be alive, to be free, to breathe fresh air, and to aspire for... anything. Anything the heart desires.

It could have anything, and all it would need is to... stay in the cage. Food, water, entertainment, something that reflects its own image, so it can look at it. It has... everything.

"..."

It doesn't need to leave the cage. It's been given everything it needs. It doesn't have to break free from its shackles, or from its ropes. It can just... sit by, relax, and idly watch from the sidelines.

It's disgusting. This display of... complacency. It feels like an insult. Like the eyes of a king as he watches his subjects. Uncaring, indifferent, needless...

It makes his skin crawl, if it could.

"..."

His hand reaches inside the cage, and he tried to catch the dove in his grasp, but with every clutching grip he tries to form, it struggles and escapes to another spot in the confines of its house. It's avoiding its chance at freedom, denying the chance to... want more.

He gives up, and pulls away, assuming a vertical posture once more.

~~~~~

Hello, everybody. I wanted to post yesterday, but I couldn't. I had to deal with a health condition of mine, and I've got to say, it is a pain in the ass.

Regardless, I've also decided that I'll be giving tidbits of lore later on in the story regarding things that you may see happen, but receive no explanation for.