Which is worse, a liar or a thief?
To be honest, she really didn't want to be there, with these questions that had no real answers and answers that only led to more questions. But too many people had insisted upon it. So she was now sitting in an ethics class with the overachievers looking into philosophy and the burnouts in mandatory attendance.
Unlike core academic classes like math and science, the class was so slow it went through only one question a day, questions that surely would never affect most of these peoples' lives.
The first day of class she had badgered the teacher about the ridiculous question written that day:
There is a fire consuming a building. You have the chance to save one person. Down the left corridor is your mother; on the right is a man who has developed a cure for a terminal ailment. Who will you save?
Why was there a fire? Why wasn't anyone else there to help save the people? What type of building was this? How could she know that the man down the left corridor had the cure for a terminal illness? Heck, what if she didn't particularly want to save her mother from a fire?
Of course she was promptly told to shut up, but that hadn't stopped her from asking questions about the questions up until this "Question of the Day".
Which is worse, a liar or a thief?
She'd had plenty of liars in her life, and plenty of thieves too, but the questions, the deliberation she usually faced with the twisted around, backwards questions of her ethics class had vanished.
The ethics professor's brows furrowed at her spontaneous outburst. Even she could feel the conviction that her voice rarely had anywhere but around close friends and enemies.
She nearly swallowed her tongue at the look of scorn on the man's face at her impulsive declaration. Sure, the ethics teacher hated her constant barrage of questions, yet the immediate responses from the burnouts and pompous straight A students irked him all the more.
"Why?" His voice crackled with scorn, dark and flaming against her pale skin. With a vociferous swallow in the back of her throat, she was abruptly sure just that glare had removed a full layer of makeup from her face.
Her "mother" was a liar, spinning stories of poisonous skin before its time, of gloves and long sleeves, of false friendships, and hollow love as she hid behind masks that extended past a few layers of foundation and eye shadow.
Her once-kidnapper was a thief, slipping into homes late in the night, blowing out security cameras, and nabbing wallets from pockets as he walked down the streets of the city, using the money of others for his own purposes.
Thieves were the black and white, the takers and givers. They never became so wrapped in sly words that they lost sight of who they were. Simple but elegant.
Liars were various shades of gray, color-blinded by the well worn path their deceit wove them through, losing their true identity in the thick of their patch of dreary color.
"Lying hurts people more."
Not my best, but I only posted it because I know Rogue is a relatively popular character (judging by the story output) and so that I could tell all the readers about something tragic: the hibernation of a brilliant and original story. The X-Men Evolution story called The Stupid School Project by MorriganFearn. It's an AU with no powers in which Rogue/Marie Alder and Pyro/St. John Allerdyce write the Evo series - superherodom and all - based on their lives in the real world. However, it's not really PyroRogue shipping. More like ensemble cast with those two as your dark horses. It is epic. Read it and review it and maybe it'll wake up.