rea is sneaky like a tiger

[Wisteria] 1

Thu, 13 Mar 2008 02:22:55 GMT

Original fiction ♥! Reviews or constructive criticism would be lovely.

Title: Protasis
Summary: It was no great beginning, no terrible cause that spurred her into something so useless and time-consuming as a pilgrimage, but at the same time, it wasn't a frivolous choice. She would never have left Mallia if it had been.
Rating: PG...? Nothing really worrisome here.
Notes: derp.

The girl, after living in the small harvesting village for some seventeen years, was wont to think that she knew everything about it.

She knew that the best place for a morning run was among the cool needle-trees, that if you followed them long enough, you would find a small, clear pond fringed in bright water flowers. She knew that every morning shortly after dawn, the baker began preparing his day’s wares, and if you ventured over with a mug of tea and a "good morning", he would more likely than not give you a scrap of cake. She knew that old Jerye, despite his eccentricities, worked wonderfully as a tutor, and if you asked him for help with arithmetic, he would walk you through every problem, and give you a cup of sweet orange juice besides. She knew that the great wisteria vines began to bloom once spring had grown comfortably warm, and flourished through the summer. She knew that the best place to take a nap was on the grassy hill overlooking the trading town of Vige, that the trees on the outskirts of the village hid small but juicy fruits, that the couple living on the corner were expecting their third child.

The hill, which she fondly thought of as her hill, was the best in the middle of the afternoon, just as the midday sun was beginning to wane, but the air was still bright and warm. She was lying wistfully in the grass, sprawled without dignity, and only half-listening to the thin boy’s chatter. His voice tumbled pleasantly forward, gossiping about whom he saw doing what, and she was content to relax her muscles and sink into the grass.

"Hey," he said, his voice carrying a rare serious tone that made her lift her head and blink at him. "Tell."

"Yes?" the girl, most commonly known as Tell Messer, (though sometimes called Neighbor Girl or simply You) murmured back, heaving herself into a sitting position. She brushed disheveled curls absently from her face, paying him close attention.

"I want to go on a pilgrimage," he told her. "To Iter."

The girl, Tell, didn’t quite know how to reply to this. Frankly she loved familiarity; she loved waking at dawn and drinking strong tea, running to the pond and back, taking classes until the afternoon, eating a mix of whatever fruit was in season in the pavilion for lunch, napping on the hill, and loved studying until sunset. She would, she reckoned, be quite content to live by that routine for the rest of her life, and couldn’t rightfully understand why anyone would want to leave it.

"Well," she asked tentatively, settling on neutrality, "why?"

"Cuz," he said, "the world is changing. The great desert is expanding every day; old towns disappear and new towns show up by the minute. There’s a million things happening, right now, and I want to go and feel them before the world stops working entirely." The boy rested his chin on his knees, glancing at her sullenly and trying to gauge her reaction as best he could. "Mallia will still be here next year, Tell, but I don’t know if the rest of the world will."

Tell reclined onto her elbows, gazing at the sky resignedly. It was a pale, glowing blue, enthusiastically lit by the sun. "You’ll have to ask your parents," she said finally, squinting at the sky. "And maybe the old weapons master--Kamou. You'll need a blade or something to defend yourself from bandits and spirits. Oh, and of course you can’t go alone: there’s no point in going unless you have a group of at least five or ten. Maybe go down the hill to Vige and advertise, though of course this means you’d have to wait a few weeks more to gather up a party. And—"

"Tell," he said quietly, his voice carrying the faint whiny tinge that she knew so well. "I want you to come."

A brief pause as the world skipped a beat. "Of course not," she said briskly, watching a stray leaf’s path to the ground. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Because you’re my best friend."

She did not, admittedly, know quite how to respond to this. She settled for a soft sigh, running a hand through her hair and tiredly saying his name. "Felix..."

"Tell."

She had never been good at arguing with him; he was like a child, prone to frowning and pouting and glancing out of the corner of his eye like a worried puppy (the Felix Stare, she called it, because after some sixteen years he had perfected the art). She sighed exasperatedly, pointedly looking away. "Why Iter? You could hardly pick a farther or more dangerous place to go. There are some nice trading fairs that are a day’s walk away, how about--"

"I’m going!” he declared, "whether you are or not!" He grinned mischievously, a far cry from the pout he had worn just a moment before. "Though I can’t guarantee I’m come back whole without you to ba—"

But here he cut off, midword, his stare glassy and unbelieving. "Felix?" she asked, baffled, and again, louder. “Felix, what’s wrong?” His mouth parted but no words came, his stare fixed on some unseen point over her shoulder. She twisted, gaze darting to see whatever had frightened him. It wasn’t hard to find. Her gaze was immediately drawn to the bottom of the hill, past the grassy slopes and tilted flowers, past the cobbled road, and into the depth of the trading city nestled vulnerably below.

Vige was burning.

Feast [Temeraire]

Fri, 01 Feb 2008 05:20:38 GMT

Title: Feast
Dedication: aella_irene
Characters: Lord Allendale, Lady Allendale, Laurence, assorted other people
Summary: Lord and Lady Allendale host a Christmas party. Laurence, as usual, does not enjoy himself.
Word Count: 660
Notes: Written for aella_irene, who wanted Chistmas and Lord and Lady Allendale. In case you couldn’t tell, this fic takes place at some point in the past, when Laurence was still in the navy. Happy reading. ♥

“It seems,” said Lord Allendale, esteemed holder of Wollaton Hall and a man with eyes for the fine, “that he is quite late.” He swirled his wine lightly, taking an absent sip and grimacing less from its taste than from his own displeasure.

“He will be along shortly, my dear,” said his wife, the Lady Allendale, dressed in her richest gown, strings of the finest pearls settled around her neck and bosom. “Pray do not worry about him; look, there are the Cranleys! I do not believe we have properly greeted them this evening.”

“The boy will most likely fail to even show up,” he grumbled half-heartedly in reply, scanning the room as if expecting his youngest son be hiding in some shadowy corner. “Such a thing would not surprise me at all.”

“Come now,” she chided gently, “we shall greet our guests foremost, and then worry about him if it comes to it.” He stood and allowed her to take his arm, still obviously displeased, and the two of them glided across the room to engage in light talk.

Wollaton Hall seemed especially gaudy at this time; great shining crucifixes had been brought out for the occasion and were on prominent display, and great bouquets of poinsettias were painstakingly arranged in the spirit of the season. The guests had, for the most part, already gathered, and in a much greater number than nearly any other time of the year. Lord and Lady Allendale were known to host a large dinner shortly after Christmas every winter, and this current year seemed to be exceptionally good, judging from the aromas drifting surreptitiously from the kitchens.

They maintained a polite conversation with the Cranleys for quite some time (Lord Allendale had formerly hunted with Joseph Cranley; there was not a want of a subject), until it was apparently that the guests were growing restless, and it would be only decent to dine soon. The lord of the house was obviously still a bit disgruntled, but when he stood, he called the guests to dinner with only the faintest trace of impatience. His initial toast was brisk, yet managed to rouse a hearty appetite from the company, and they collectively dug into the first course (rich creamy soup, with a side of baked oysters) with relish.

He glanced only a few times towards the empty seat--where his youngest son ought to have been sitting--before successfully conversing with his neighbor, the young Lady Herline. The table’s chatter was lively and pleasant, with the meal itself being more than adequate. Lady Allendale strove valiantly to keep the atmosphere merry, talking animatedly with anyone in range, and occasionally giving her husband a nervous look. He ate with vigor. The next course was brought out: roast pork, still steaming and flavored with a sauce of vegetables. The company indulged themselves just as eagerly. By the time the dishes had been cleared and plum pudding had been set upon the table, the guests had considerably mellowed.

As the click of dining-ware was finally subsided, a young man tentatively entered the hall, looking sunburnt and wind-blown for all his nice clothing. He hung back politely at the threshold, but upon sight Lady Allendale quite nearly leapt to her feet, rushing to her youngest son and embracing him fiercely. “Oh, Will!” she cried happily, and the party stirred among themselves, sneaking glances without seeming too obtrusive. “You must eat, we have plenty of food left! Come now, dearest.” He followed gratefully, taking her eager lead to a place at the table; the guests reinitiated a few shaky conversations so as not to seem too rude. The young man met his father’s gaze, and halted, inclining his head slightly.

Lord Allendale did not break the gaze, but rather, stared imperiously back. Will Laurence hung his head abashedly, taking a seat beside his mother. He feasted to the idle chatter of his father’s acquaintances, and to the silence of his father.

Seabirds [Tales of the Abyss]

Tue, 22 Jan 2008 00:19:23 GMT

Title: Seabirds
Dedication: sin_alchemy/facilitated
Characters: Jade, Luke
Prompt/Summary: Jade teases Luke. Light Jade/Luke.
Word Count: 625
Notes: hahaha~ I got a bit carried away, so I really hope this is close to what you wanted. D:

Luke was lost in thought (more so than usual, even), his arms dangling limply over the railing at the Katsbert ferry’s edge, gazing blankly at the sea’s level surface. His face, a passerby might notice, was folded into a thoughtful scowl, and he seemed a bit nervous, repeatedly running a hand through his long, thick hair. He, of course, was completely unaware of this, and was personally hoping that no one annoying would come up and try to talk to him. He was too damn anxious to deal with anyone right now.

“My, my, Luke,” came a voice. Luke visibly tensed. Dammit, that was not the person he needed right now. “If you keep leaning over the edge so haphazardly like that, I’m afraid you might fall in!”

“Shut up, old man,” he growled without turning around. “Go read a book or whatever the hell you do in your free time. Don’t bother me.”

“Oh, that’s not very nice!” Jade exclaimed, appearing quite suddenly beside him, hands tucked in his pockets and a smug smile on his lips. “You seem very nervous. Is something wrong? You almost seem like you’re keeping a secret!—but we all know you would never do such a thing. Right, Luke?”

“Shut the hell up!” Luke insisted, half-turning to glare violently. Jade, unfortunately, seemed rather unimpressed.

“And now you’re repeating yourself! My, something must be very wrong! Do tell! I am, I must say, very good at keeping secrets.”

“Like I’d ever tell you!”

“Such poor manners! Didn’t your parents ever teach you anything?”

This particular barb seemed to sting Luke more than he wanted to admit; he turned back to face the ocean, resting his chin on a halfhearted fist and scowling vehemently at the water. “Some,” he murmured finally, his voice all full of sullenness. “But Master Van taught me a lot--! And Guy, too. So I don’t need your lectures, okay? Just don’t bother me.”

Jade chuckled. “Oh, I would say otherwise. You seem a bit…ignorant of the world, to be honest.”

“Why you—“

“And by ‘a bit’, I really mean ‘shockingly, so much so that I have no idea how a person like you could even function in day to day life’, but that’s just me, of course.” He shrugged whimsically, an amused smile growing wider and wider the more annoyed Luke got.

“I know a lot, thanks, and what I don’t know isn’t my fault, okay?! So just lay off me!” Luke turned sharply away, hair whipping dramatically over his back, squaring his shoulders and trying to look as unapproachable as he could. What a bastard. Some day, that Jade would really get what was coming to him, geez.

“Sorry, did I go too far?”

Luke scowled miserably at the water. “There’s no need to apologize if you’re still just making fun of me,” he muttered sullenly.

A pause. “Then may I offer my sincerest apologies? Master Luke?”

Luke turned slowly. “Stop doing that,” he growled, resigned. “I can never tell what you’re thinking and it’s really freaking weird.”

“Oh, I assure you, I am quite serious. Despite what you may think, I would like to be on good terms with you when we arrive back in Baticul. It wouldn’t do to have the negotiator hate me, after all.”

Another pause. “Fine. Just leave me alone, all right?—and then maybe I’ll think about it.”

“Good to know,” Jade said amiably, and strolled his merry way along the deck, lest the noble decided to yell even more uncouthly. The rest of the ferry’s trip passed pleasantly; Luke thought about hyperresonance, Jade wondered and watched (and for once did not interfere), and the seabirds bobbed on the waves without a thought or care.

Pleasant.

Typical [Tales of the Abyss]

Sun, 20 Jan 2008 04:16:07 GMT

Title: Typical
Characters/Pairings: Light Guy/Natalia, references to the rest of the party 8D;
Summary: The Absorption Gate, and finding strength when you think that, at last, you have none left.
Rating: PG. Also~~ spoilers up to the Absorption Gate, durr.
Notes: I wrote this a year ago. :/ Surprisingly, it doesn't suck too bad~

When they entered the Absorption Gate, she had managed to convince herself that everything would be all right.

It would be like any other battle. Granted, it would be a battle against her friend’s brother and fiancé’s mentor, the man she had seen so often the Fabre courtyard, good-naturedly sparring with Luke and smiling widely at his protégé’s feeble attempts to overpower him, but it was still just a battle. By this point, she had fought hundreds of battles. Killing did not frighten her. As they entered the mysteriously lighted Gate, she gazed around to watch her teammates. Luke was strong. Tear was strong. She would also be strong.

That was before the ancient ground had crumbled beneath her feet, and the team had been forcibly wrenched apart.

She remembered a swooping feeling of terror, and a dizzying fall, and then coming to consciousness on a different path. She stared for a moment at the empty passage, winding aimlessly in front of her, completely silent, and then she was seized with panic.

The wretched earthquake! They were gone now, flung to some other part of the dungeon, and she was alone. Could she do it? She had managed to find courage in her friends’ determination, but the reservoir had run unexpectedly dry. What if she met up with Van on her own? What if she was trapped down here, while they left back for home? She was never the best navigator in the endless dungeon passages; she usually just followed the rest of her group.

She couldn’t do it.

For a moment, she lost her composure, letting out a dry, stifled sob. She wanted so hard to be as strong as everyone else, but with no one else around, her façade had no meaning. She was hopeless.

"Natalia?" came a startled voice from behind her. "Are you all right?"

She snapped around. Guy had been sitting patiently behind her, but was obviously concerned.

"Fine!" she said loudly. Her voice sounded fake. She quickly drew her hand across her face, trying to wipe away the traces of tears that had begun to form. Guy appeared slightly nonplussed, but stood, looking only a bit awkward. He looked as though he wished he could offer his hand to pull her up off the ground.

"Are you ready to go?"

She blinked. "Go? But—"

"We’re split up from the others, but I think if we follow this path, we’ll meet up with them. That would make sense, architecturally."

She stood, nodding.

"Natalia, what’s wrong?"

The problem with Guy was that he had too much sympathy. She could already feel herself about to break down, just because he seemed so honest, sincerely compassionate.

She sniffed. "Nothing."

He just sighed.

"I’m just...a little worried. About...well, you know."

He nodded knowingly. "It’s tough, but don’t worry. You’re strong; we can make it through here."

How ironic. He thought was strong; she knew she was weak.

He smiled at her as if he knew what she was thinking. He probably did.

They set off down the single path, a slow jog going down the downward spiral. A few times, she saw the other groups on separate faraway paths, and invariably felt her heart lurch: Luke and Tear, looking rather comfortable in each other’s company; and Jade and Anise, easily coasting through the dungeon. Both times, the other group waved, and they waved back. She felt a new surge of confidence. She and Guy would make it through to meet them.

A group of enemies caught them off guard: tentacle monsters and a mechanical foe. A rather large group, which made her nervous considering the rather depleted party. She sprinted backwards, releasing a flurry of arrows while Guy, surrounded by green tendrils, sliced viciously at the enemies. She ran again, shooting off another round of ammunition; one arrow pierced a roper’s torso solidly, causing it to collapse, lifeless.

She glanced at Guy, surprised to see he was in poor condition. Several monsters’ corpses lay scattered around him, but he was panting and struggling to ward off several monsters at once. She immediately began casting Cure, hoping to make it in time.

She was helpless when the mechanical beast attacked her from behind, knocking her to the ground. It seemed to growl, clamping onto her arm fiercely. Icy pain rushed up to her shoulder. She struggled, using her free arm in an attempt to stab it with her bow, but it was clumsy and ineffectual. She shouldn’t be here, lying on the ground helplessly when Guy was in need of severe healing. She had been careless.

The monster cried out in alarm, and she felt it fall limp, to the ground, freeing her arm. Guy stood above her, panting, but victorious.

"Are you okay?"

She couldn’t help but smile. That was so typical, concerned about her when he was the injured one. She braced herself on her arms, to push herself to her feet, but an unexpected pain shivered though her arm. She winced. She was more injured than she thought.

"Natalia?" Again, he was far too concerned for her and not enough for himself.

"It’s just a mild injury," Natalia murmured, trying to pull herself to her feet; her arm buckled beneath her weight. Scarcely before she knew what was happening, Guy caught her hand and pulled her to her feet. He let go, embarrassed.

"Thank you," she said. Poor Guy, making himself uncomfortable just for her own needs. She promptly began casting Heal. A healthy glow blossomed in the air, and he appeared revitalized.

"You should have healed yourself first," he said pleasantly.

Typical.

Love's Philosophy [Tales of the Abyss]

Tue, 15 Jan 2008 06:14:38 GMT

Title: Love’s Philosophy
Characters: Largo, Meryl
Summary: Of beauty and regrets.
Rating: G?
Warning: Serious spoilers for Largo backstory.

She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Her skin was paler than the lightest sand, her tiny face dusted with pink and wrinkled like desert fruit. Her hands were so, so small, grasping ineffectively at the air, and her skin was as soft and thin as dew in the morning. Her hair seemed woven of the sun itself, downy and vibrant and pure.

He was afraid to hold her, at first, because she seemed like more of an exquisite doll than his own blood. He feared that his big, clumsy hands (rough and callused from his work, speak it true) would raze her smooth skin, ruin her peace, accidentally break her fragile body. And so, when Sylvia held her, rocking the babe in her arms and babbling in that sweet, foolish baby-speech (it warmed his heart), he did not touch her. He held himself back, rigid, and kept his rough, hard hands at his sides.

Had he known of what was to come, he would have held her close regardless, and whispered her sweet name, over and over again--"Meryl, Meryl, Meryl"; a good name, light and lilting--and let her fall to sleep in his arms. But he did not, and so later, the day he woke up and she was gone, his arms ached for the want of her.

It was eighteen years until he saw her again, only one of which was spent plotting revenge, and two more spent in quiet longing. He grew, and he hardened, but he could not bring himself to forget.

She was so beautiful.

One Question [Tales of the Abyss]

Sat, 12 Jan 2008 22:36:23 GMT

Title: One Question
Dedication: romanitas
Pairing/Characters: Natalia/Guy (lolol you know it’s true), Luke, mentions of Jade, Anise, Tear, and Noelle
Summary: Everyone romps around on the beach. Guy is paranoid. Nothing is new.
Rating: PG with mention of boobs? .o.
Notes: orz it’s been a year since I played this game, so...go easy on me? I don’t really remember much of the plot, so this takes place, ummm, in one of the lulls, near the end of the game. .___.;;

As he watched the girls frolicking blissfully in the waves, Guy really hoped one of them wouldn’t, you know, drown.

And not just because that would be pretty bad for their health. Though that was a factor, too! (He certainly didn’t want anyone injured, of course; they were undoubtedly his friends.) No, he was particularly anxious because if someone got dragged under a wave, or caught in a current, or snagged by a sea monster or something, Guy knew, just knew, that he would have to be the one to jump in and save her. Luke would flail a bit, and maybe yell for someone to DO SOMETHING!—but he could barely swim, if he could at all, and he wouldn’t have a clue how to save a drowning girl. Jade would only smirk, Guy could just picture it—”Well, Guy, aren’t you going to save her? She’s your friend, isn’t she? I certainly can’t save her! I’m too old to go swimming about, hahaha! Well, Guy?”—and he would have no choice but to dive into the water and grab her, whoever she happened to be. And her skin would be slick with salt water, and she would be nearly naked, in the swimsuit of her choice, and she would sputter and cling to him blindly, and—

IT WOULD BE HORRIBLE.

“Hey, Guy,” Luke said, materializing quite suddenly in front of him and peering curiously into his face (how the clumsy boy had managed to sneak up on him, Guy hadn’t the faintest clue). “What’s up? You look all weird and quiet.”

Guy laughed—“It’s nothing!”—and promptly went back to looking at the waves, judging who was most likely to drown. Anise was perched upon Tokunaga (apparently waterproof, who knew?), kicking at the waves with her feet. She seemed pretty safe, and even if she should fall into the water, Jade would probably remove himself from beneath his umbrella to save her. (Right? Wouldn’t he?) Tear, crammed into that ridiculous swimsuit that Emperor Peony had given her, hadn’t ventured in very far, but anyway, she was a soldier of Lorelei! She knew all sorts of things, and he thought (hoped) that she could fend for herself at the edge of the ocean. Noelle, luckily, hadn’t ventured off the sand. She was fine.

Natalia, though, could be a problem. Despite the fact that she had lived nearly all her life in Baticul, on the seashore, she was currently wading into the water a step at a time, looking a bit shaky every time a wave lapped at her waist. He wished she would come closer to shore, but how could he tell her that? (“Hey, Natalia, I’m afraid that you’re going to start drowning and then I’ll have to save you, not that I don’t like you, but it would be really awkward, so can you please come back to the beach”?) As he was watching, she took a step forward, and another, and then suddenly lost her footing and disappeared under the smooth surface of the water.

“Dammit,” he hissed, leaping to his feet immediately. He wouldn’t enjoy it, but something had to be done and there was no way in hell that he would let the princess drown in front of his eyes. Every muscle tensed, and he scanned the surface of the water anxiously, looking for some telltale sign that something had gone wrong...

...when Natalia resurfaced, soaked and laughing. Guy straightened, awkwardly, adjusting his hair like nothing was wrong.

“Uh,” said a voice, and the back of Guy’s neck prickled with dread. “Guy? Are you sure you’re okay?” He turned, slowly, to meet Luke’s curious gaze. The redhead peered intently into his face (was he blushing? please, say he wasn’t), glanced slowly at the water, and then looked back to Guy. A coy smile spread across his cheeks.

“Luke! No! Luke! It’s—“

“Yeah, yeah.”

He thought everything was fine until later, when they returned to the inn. No one had seen the incident except for Luke (although...Jade did smile at him strangely when passing him by), and he was happy to forget all about the little ordeal. And so he was completely unsuspecting when Natalia ambushed him in a corner of the hallway.

“Guy,” she said sweetly, moving to block his avenue of escape. He cowered. “I have a question for you.” A cursory glance told him that she hadn’t yet changed out of her swimsuit, and unfortunately, it was the blasted one she had gotten from the Emperor.

That swimsuit.

He forced his gaze upward just as she leaned in close, and he would have jumped away if there hadn’t been a wall at his back. “Just one question,” she added, so close that he could smell the salt water on her skin. He was trembling like a leaf in the wind, a damn leaf, but there was no escape in sight.

"I was wondering," she said coyly (and her breath smelled like strawberry ice cream), "if I was, oh, let's just say drowning, what would you do?" He was paralyzed, completely unable to do anything. He tried to choke out her name, and beg her to back away, but his tongue was hard and heavy. She grasped his hand, firmly as if to prove a point, and her touch was fire and ice and poison.

"Would you save me?" she asked, sugar-smiled, and gazed unblinkingly into his eyes. He swallowed--it was painful--and, with a great effort, managed to say the only answer he knew.

"Yes."

Only a Bit [Temeraire]

Sat, 12 Jan 2008 22:34:14 GMT

Title: Only a Bit
Dedication: yukitsu
Pairing/Characters: Very light Laurence/Granby, and I couldn’t resist the Laurence+Temeraire at the end~
Summary: Laurence visits Granby on his sickbed. The warm fuzzies follow.
Rating/Warning: PG because nothing happens.:/ Also, spoilers for the first half of Throne of Jade.

“So,” Laurence said, somewhat stiffly, but this derived more from the awkwardness of the situation than from some innate unfriendliness. “I pray you are feeling well?”

“As well as a man in my state could feel, I suppose,” Granby replied, in his usual joking manner. “Pray do not worry for my health; I trust I shall be up and running about within a few weeks.”

They were brave words, but Laurence did not find himself convinced. He had seen his first lieutenant pale and fevered only a few days earlier, shot in the chest in some nefarious nighttime attack, and though he had been through surgery and prescribed medication for infection, he still looked too sickly for confidence. “We shall get that damned Fleur-de-Nuit later, do not fear,” Granby added gallantly, noticing Laurence’s doubt.

“Yes, of course,” Laurence said halfheartedly, “but please do rest. I won’t have you jeopardizing your well-being for my own sake. We shall manage until you are well again.” Granby, who had struggled upright into a half-sitting position, sunk back into his pillows guiltily.

After a few more moments of light talk, Laurence made his way up to the Allegiance’s dragondeck, where he stood, staring at the ocean’s surface agitatedly. Granby seemed in better health, and it likely wouldn’t be long until he completed his recovery. Until then, though, they would have to make do without him, and only now in his absence was Laurence realizing how efficient a lieutenant the younger man really was.

“Laurence?” a voice asked cautiously, and Laurence turned to see Temeraire, poking his head curiously towards him. He had been recently wounded as well, in his darkened battled with the Fleur-de-Nuit, but by now he was nearly fully recovered. “Is something wrong?” the dragon insisted, whipping his tail anxiously.

“No, my dear,” Laurence sighed, stepping forward and stroking Temeraire’s muzzle affectionately. “We are still recuperating from our wounds.”

“Is Granby well?” the dragon asked curiously, demonstrating once again his remarkable ability to catch on to just about anything. “You were visiting him, were you not?”

“Still injured, I’m afraid,” Laurence replied gently, rubbing Temeraire’s neck, which the dragon extended willingly and eagerly. “It might be a while before he is up and running again.”

“Are you worried because he is your friend?” Temeraire wondered aloud, baffling Laurence sufficiently. “Because,” he added, “I’m not sure how human friendships work, but I would be very worried too, if Lily or Maximus were injured, and of course I would be frightened if you were hurt. So I understand, if you are very concerned about him.”

“Something like that,” Laurence said wistfully, and Temeraire flattened him ruff in puzzlement, but said no more on the subject. They stood together for some time, gazing over the rough lapping of the waves. “When will you visit him next?” Temeraire asked finally, lowering himself slowly to the deck and curling a foreleg affectionately around Laurence. “Tomorrow?”

Granby wasn’t in mortal danger, so Laurence had not mapped out an extensive plan of visitations; this question served only to baffle him again. “I wasn’t planning on it, but if you wish it,” he said cautiously, trying to gauge Temeraire’s intent, but the latter seemed only indifferent. “All right,” the dragon said, “if you do not plan on visiting again this evening, then stay with me.”

"I will, my dear,"--and the two of them watched the sun set.

Reunion [Bleach]

Sat, 12 Jan 2008 22:32:05 GMT

Title: Reunion
Dedication: norrowa
Pairing/Characters: Renji, Kira, Hinamori
Summary: Lunch, with fluff.
Rating/Warning: PG =)

“U-um! Excuse me!”

Renji glanced up from his lunch--some sort of meat, probably, though hell only knew what kind of lunches the cooks really served--and Kira did likewise, carefully dabbing at his face with a painstakingly white napkin and folding it, with equal care, to set upon his lap.

“Oh,” Kira said pleasantly, only mildly surprised, “Hinamori-kun! Would you like to join us?”

The girl nodded vigorously, pigtails bobbing (Renji wondered if she realized how ridiculous that looked) and plopped herself down between them, brushing off her Academy-red haori without much concern. “Hello, Abarai-kun, Kira-kun!” She placed her lunch—just bought, like Renji’s, and looking like the same kind of meat—carefully on her lap. “It’s a very beautiful day today!”

“Indeed!” Kira agreed, his voice inflected--only slightly--with this weird lilt that Renji found off. He narrowed his eyes.

“Hey, Hinamori,” the redhead absently, digging his fork deep into his food to show her that she wasn’t really interested in whatever she had to say (never one for subtlety, gods knew how many times Rukia had told him that). She and Kira chattered absently for a few minutes, that rich kid small-talk about weather and what they had for breakfast and shit like that (was Hinamori a rich kid? he thought she probably was, judging by how damn girly she acted).

“Um,” Hinamori said, after a few minutes, her voice suddenly smaller and more tentative. “You’re probably wondering why I came over here...”

“You’re always welcome to sit with us, Hinamori-kun,” Kira cut in, smiling blandly. Or...was he? No, Renji noticed, his hands were curled and clenched tight, a habit of the blonde only when he was particularly nervous. Renji almost snorted. Fucking puppy love, that’s what it was.

"What I wanted to say," Hinamori continued, still anxious despire Kira’s reassurances, "was that, well...last week, when we were a team--" (the botched training expedition on Earth, that’s what she meant, too obvious to even name) "--I think we worked really well together. And um, I know you don’t really like me, Abarai-kun--" (fuck) "—but I really enjoyed working with you both! I really did! And I hope we can do it again sometime in the future.”

She smiled anxiously, then stood, nearly leaping to her feet (and scaring the hell out of Kira in the process). "Right, well, that's all I wanted to say! I hope I can talk to you all again sometime, bye!" And with a whisk of her robes, she was gone. Renji stirred, biting his meat with relish. Silence.

"Well, Abarai-kun," Kira said finally, a good deal more haughty than Renji had ever heard him, "I should hope that next time Hinamori visits us, you will be polite to her." He jabbed at his lunch vigorously, chewing it as pompously as food could be chewed, and stopping only to dab at his face with a napkin.

"Yeah," Renji said (not that he was agreeing or anything), "whatever."

Eve [Bleach]

Sat, 12 Jan 2008 22:29:29 GMT

Title: Eve
Dedication: amandier
Pairing/Characters: Light Aizen/Hinamori
Summary: The night before he died, everything was wonderful.
Rating/Warning: PG? It’s mostly fluffy.

The night before he died was one of the happiest nights of her life.

It certainly didn’t seem so grand or important at the time—it was so, so silly, she knew, but that was the way people lived, not noticing their wonders and joys until afterwards—but later, when she was alone, when they had her locked up and under supervision, it sustained her. She turned the memories of that night over and over in her mind, and those thoughts and remnants of Aizen-taichou illuminated her soul.

His smile as he invited her in—“do you think I would dismiss you for something like that?”—so warm and gentle. (a smile like that had to be true, had to be real, it just had to be, had to be, had to be)

The feeling of his haori settled upon her shoulders, too big but so soft, still warm from the touch of his skin, and smelling just like him (it was a clean, nice smell, with only the most modest touch of cologne).

His voice, like rich honey, the most comforting, wonderful voice she had ever heard.

The way he reassured her, impossible to describe; he filled her fears and stole her sorrows like no one else could.

The sight of his back, his strong, strong back, as he sat at his desk and wrote the letter that she would receive the next day (the letter that would change it all). His posture was wonderful, and he held his head high as his warm, beautiful hands swam over the paper with assurance. Those were the hands that she wished she could touch, but was never brave enough to try. Those were the hands that only held her once, and then dropped her to the floor like garbage.

When she felt hopeless, when Unohana-taichou had visited her yet again to check her wounds, and told her quietly to please keep on trying, she thought of that night. She thought of his smiles and words, and she knew, just knew, that they were all wrong about him.

They didn’t know him at all.

Fight of the Century [Bleach]

Sat, 12 Jan 2008 22:28:23 GMT

Title: Fight of the Century
Dedication: jamminbison (Tiffany~♥)
Pairing/Characters: Ikkaku, Yumichika, Matsumoto, Hitsugaya, A BISON
Summary/Notes: Ikkaku and bison. Chaos ensues. Also, this takes place during the quality-animated filler arc in which these four ran around killing Hollows and looking kind of cool. I’M SORRY OKAY IT WAS ALL I COULD THINK OF.
Rating: A hard PG-13 for Ikkaku’s dirty mouth. No spoilers~ (lol filler)

He had, honestly, no fuckin’ idea why those goddamn idiots thought it was a good idea to wander around a zoo—a zoo--all day. Rangiku had said somethin’ about having fun and bonding in their spare time (since when did that woman need to wander around and look at animals to have a good time? Just give her a bottle of somethin’ hard and she’d be entertained for the night), and that moron Yumichika had thought it’d be interesting too. So there they were. Looking at fuckin’ goats. (Not literally. Ugh. If that was literal, he might’ve had to vomit all over Rangiku’s ugly new shirt.)

“Hey. I think I feel a Hollow. Pretty far away though. Tell ya what, I’ll go off ‘n you guys can jus—“ Rangiku rewarded his attempt at escape with a slap across the head. Bitch.

“We’ve been fighting a lot lately, Ikkaku!” she said brightly, with that fake shiny smile on her face. “We all need a break, ne? Oh, look at that one over there!”

Ikkaku sighed dramatically, just in case she was too dense to get his not-so-subtle slumping and groaning and attempting to sneak off at every single chance. He peered around speculatively: Rangiku had found some baby somethin-or-others and was busy cooing over their precious little heads, Yumichika was clucking disapprovingly at the animals’ living arrangements (figures, that queer), and Hitsugaya (yeah, Rangiku had managed to drag the kid along with ‘em too—it made Ikkaku unusually happy to see the brat pouting like that) was looking sullen in some dark corner near the maps.

Goddammit, he really wanted to kill something.

He let his eyes wander a bit, looking for something badass like a giant maneating snake or a tiger with teeth the length of its tail or something actually, y’know, interesting. His gaze settled on a hulking brown thing with big hairy shoulders and some pointy-looking horns. “The hell’s that?” he murmured, mildly curious (but not very impressed or anything—it was just a big furry animal, after all). Rangiku, though, apparently mistook this for actual interest, and started reading from the little poster by its enclosure. “American bison,” she echoed loudly, “Bison bison. A member of the family Bovidae. Though it appears peaceful or lazy, its temperament is unpredictable. Bison can be known to attack bystanders without reason or warning—“

Okay, now he was interested.

“Yeah?” he asked, a bit redundantly, grinning without realizing it. Hell, his hands were itching to grab onto the thick fur and wrestle it to the ground. “So if I jumped in there, ya think it’d charge me? It’d be a pretty good fight if I didn’t have a weapon, right?”

“Highly unwise, Ikkaku-san.” Yumichika twittered, fanning himself with a (girlily-)folded brochure. “I certainly wouldn’t waste my sweat rolling around it the mud with a—“

Pffffa, like Ikkaku’d listen to that garbage. He grasped the bars of the enclosure, testing ‘em to see if they were stable. Sure were. He glanced downward—at least a ten-foot drop into the bison pit, but if he rolled right, it wouldn’t hurt at all. He pulled himself on top of the railing; it was pretty damn unsteady, but he had good footing.

“Ikkaku!” Rangiku suddenly cried, apparently just realizing what was going on. “You can’t really--“

Too late.

Too fuckin’ late for that.

Beauty [Bleach]

Sat, 12 Jan 2008 22:25:32 GMT

Title: Beauty
Dedication: ZP~
Pairing/Characters: Aaroniero/his shirt
Prompt: RUFFLES.
Rating/Warning: PG

It takes Aaroniero Arlueri thirty minutes a day to get ready for work

                     and by work he means patrolling the halls and hoping that,
just this once, something interesting will happen in this 
godforsaken place.

First he pulls on his uniform

     pressed and perfect-white, groomed and picked over so at least 
something here looks like it’s steady, unlike the majority of the Espada, 
who will one day doom this place, he just knows it

and runs his fingers of it, brushing down wrinkles and straightening seams and tugging
at the ruffles

                             the most important part

until it looks picture perfect. He could just illuse himself to look like perfection, so 
long as he stays in the dark, but that wouldn’t be the point of it

   now would it?

And he covers his head so no one will see

                   shameful, it’s shameful

and once he’s done he inspects himself in the mirror, plucking at his shirt

         they called it frilly and ridiculuous, some of the underlings did, and the next
 day their heads were nowhere to be found

until it is full and perfect. And then, last but not least important, he takes a moment

               or three

to admire himself in the mirror. And he realizes

                                 and he realizes

that he looks

     fine.