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Heroes
::as requested by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
katie__pillar::
All power corrupts.
Absolute power corrupts absolutely.
It was trite. And a cliché. Tedious to trot out and more tedious to hear. And true. So very, very true. Nathan looked at the painting Lindeman had shown him; the bold colours, the striking lines. All fitting together to show him a dream. A dream he’d had for a very long time indeed. Change the world. Make it safer. Make it fairer. Make it better.
When had he first fought for office? College? No, before that. High school. Class president. Determined to win, and he had. He’d been on the student council. Listened to what his classmates wanted, had tried to get the faculty to implement them. Some he had won, some he hadn’t. That was life. Give and take.
He’d been elected onto the student council at college. Fought his election and won. Tough competition, but he made it. He’d listened, and tried to effect change. Had liked it when college girls recognised him. Liked it more when they wanted to fuck him. Liked it best when the dean clapped him on the shoulder in front of a dozen alumni and said that he had a Future.
There had been more. More elections, more wins, more recognition. More women, and more admiration. And more power. Lots more power. And Nathan found he liked that best of all. Better than sex, better than money, better than fame, because power brings those things with it.
And now the world is changing, and Nathan looks at the painting, and wonders whether he can be trusted with power. He thinks maybe he can’t. Maybe that means he can.
::as requested by
katie__pillar::All power corrupts.
Absolute power corrupts absolutely.
It was trite. And a cliché. Tedious to trot out and more tedious to hear. And true. So very, very true. Nathan looked at the painting Lindeman had shown him; the bold colours, the striking lines. All fitting together to show him a dream. A dream he’d had for a very long time indeed. Change the world. Make it safer. Make it fairer. Make it better.
When had he first fought for office? College? No, before that. High school. Class president. Determined to win, and he had. He’d been on the student council. Listened to what his classmates wanted, had tried to get the faculty to implement them. Some he had won, some he hadn’t. That was life. Give and take.
He’d been elected onto the student council at college. Fought his election and won. Tough competition, but he made it. He’d listened, and tried to effect change. Had liked it when college girls recognised him. Liked it more when they wanted to fuck him. Liked it best when the dean clapped him on the shoulder in front of a dozen alumni and said that he had a Future.
There had been more. More elections, more wins, more recognition. More women, and more admiration. And more power. Lots more power. And Nathan found he liked that best of all. Better than sex, better than money, better than fame, because power brings those things with it.
And now the world is changing, and Nathan looks at the painting, and wonders whether he can be trusted with power. He thinks maybe he can’t. Maybe that means he can.
