Friday, June 15, 2007
Automatic Paranoia - Chapter Three
Series: Yu-Gi-Oh
Genre: Supernatural
Expanded Series: Endless Loop
Word Count: 3,061
And that's how I ended up here. We just had to be curious, had to find out what was going on. And no, I'm not whining. See how happy you are when you just a few moments - at best - from death, more rotting zombies than even Treeboy can count (makes me glad for mortal vision, because if there are more beyond the thirty or so I spotted earlier, I don't want to see them) all trying to get in here for a snack, and oh yeah, stuck in here with Treeboy, of all people! My night just keeps getting better and better.
I think the sight is going to be burned into my eyes for the rest of my life... however short that might be at this point. Another ten, twenty minutes? Half an hour, if I'm really lucky? I'm not sure if that implies good luck or bad. If it's good, then given how my life tends to go the exact opposite, we're screwed and they'll tear their way in here any minute; but if it's bad, then we may have a few minutes' breathing room to formulate something like an escape plan. Well, a few minutes' breathing room for the one of us who breathes.
//You will call me.// It sounds so damn certain that I can almost resist it. It makes resisting it a little easier, anyway.
//Call my name. Summon my power, and I will destroy all that stands against you.//I thump the back of my head against the door I'm pressed against, trying my best to block it out while I'm still breathing and can. I can't hit it as hard as I'd like, hard enough to knock me out: for one, I stand a pretty good chance of being eaten alive if I'm unconscious; for a second point, there's no guarantee that would help; thirdly, Treeboy might eat me if I'm not helping with this door; and finally, the wood would probably splinter if I hit my head any harder. It wasn't exactly sturdy even before the legions of the undead... dead... how does one describe zombies anyway? Or would they be ghouls? Not that I'm going to stop and ask, of course.
For that matter, what were the odds that Treeboy would get called out to the one cemetery in Domino with enough people in the ground for someone to attempt a half-decent -- okay, very decent and completely effective -- zombie raising. I may not be able to raise a zombie myself, but I've read up on it, mostly so I could answer any and all the questions Treeboy and the other Kaibas kept pestering me with, and I've been working on a theory on what we're doing stuck with this many (and I'm not asking
how many) zombies.
If anyone ever gets a chance to investigate this, if there's anyone left in Domino after this (and I'm not being frantic or anything -- it's just that there are so many of them!), they're going to find someone made a heavy-duty sacrifice to make this cemetery sit up. Someone planned this out to the exact detail: they knew how to get Treeboy here, they knew what to say to get me here as well, and they knew what to do to raise an entire cemetery.
//Call me, and I will change it.//"Doesn't work like that." Holy fuck, now I'm talking back to it out loud. Now there's a sign of insanity. I've stepped over the deep end. With the look Treeboy's giving me, though, either he thinks it wasn't a far jump to begin with or he knows what's happening. Why the hell did I tell him anyway? Not my brightest move.
"It's talking to you?" And how the hell does he sound so cool and collected? I mean, Halloween was bad enough, but this is about a million times worse, and he sounds like this is no more troubling than a misfiled paper. Hell, maybe less so. I've seen some major Treeboy wigging from things being out of place. Hence is why I have a little fun rearranging during the day sometimes. Keeps him on his toes.
"Nah, they're singing the latest pop hits out there. Yes, it's talking to me!" Never said I'm graceful under pressure... or nice when I'm in pain. In fact, I think I've made a point of telling it like it is: that I'm a little bastard when I'm stressed or hurting, and I'm both right now.
//NOW!// Wood from the wall near me splinters in time to the demand. Tiny slivers hit me like miniature daggers of pain. On their own, they probably wouldn't even really sting, but with the headache I'm rapidly developing, the wrenched muscles from running to get the hell away from those things outside, the bruises from diving in what I'm guessing is a gardener's shed, the black eye and swollen cheek Yami gave me, and the cuts I'm still finding where sharp, dead fingernails managed to score on me, it's all adding up to be a world of hurt.
"Oww! Fuck!"
Heads are going to roll.
I swear to God, I'm going to find responsible parties -- or even people who look vaguely responsible -- and rip them limb from limb. Whoops, bad analogy, given my current situation.
You know, it wasn't too many nights ago that Yami, the brat, Mini-Me, and I were on a couch, laughing uncontrollably at a bootleg horror movie with characters caught in a situation very much like what I find myself in. And, somehow, the only thing that keeps circling through my mind is, oddly enough, I didn't think it would smell like this. Weird. I'm probably not too far from being torn limb from limb myself, and I'm more concerned about how the things about to kill me smell.
"Somehow this is all your fault."
I hold back a growl but only barely -- and badly. "I hate you. This is not my fault. You were the one who got the invitation. I just tagged along to be nice."
"You don't know what that word means, Bakura."
"Like you do?"
Is this really how I'm going to die? Snarking it out with Treeboy? I guess I'd been hoping for maybe something a little less... typical for how my life tends to be. Maybe even with Yami...
I'm not thinking of Yami. I'm pissed at Yami. Being pissed might get me through this. It's a little hard to concentrate, but just out of habit, I reach again for a ghost, any ghost, anything close enough to be of some help. Because of course, the cell phones don't work. Not a single bit of reception out here, and even if there was, this doesn't strike me as something we can get the wolves to come save our asses from. Magnum can come rolling in and kick all the ass he wants, but I don't see where it would be a huge help.
And damn it, I can't think how to kill ghouls. Or zombies. Well, zombies, if we could get a pretty powerful animator, we might be able to put them back in their graves, even with the sacrifice that woke them up, but these things, they seem to be people-hungry. And we don't have an animator anyway, not on staff, not on call, and the only wizard I can think of who might know how to help...
"Ideas yet?"
Again, my best glare rolls right off him. For now I'm going to attribute that to the fact a lot of his concentration is going into keeping the door closed to our uninvited guests outside, because I know
I'm not the one with preternatural strength working wonders on it. I am doing my part, though, sitting on the dirt-packed floor and bracing my entire weight against it.
With a growl that's a little hard to hear over all the other, more impressive ones from outside, I answer, "Not on how to stop them, but I know how they're awake."
He turns so that his back is to the door as well (Surely, there's a 'Kaibas are better than and above everyone else' metaphor here that I'm just missing) and calmly continues, "It couldn't hurt to know."
I will not rabbit punch him in the leg. I will not. I have much better restraint than that. Flip him off, on the other hand... "You saw what happened just before we got here."
He nods. "Mahaado." One word saying a million things, perfect description of a Kaiba.
"They sacrificed him -- and I guess all those other people we picked up on -- to raise them. Using a wizard's blood... I guess they either got ghouls or flesh-eating zombies."
"Difference?"
"Not a lot, unless you're an animator." Or unless you're going outside to check. I'm not. In fact, at the moment, I'm very fond of this little shed, for as long as it holds up. Another five to fifteen, at best -- and when I say 'at best', I do mean at the very best, the most generous amount of time that I possibly can give these walls. The Ice Prince here probably isn't even giving them that long. "Fact is," I pause to rebrace myself, since the door's starting to give, "I know raising an animator as a zombie makes ghouls. I have no idea what using a wizard as the 'white goat' would do. This, I guess."
"'White goat'?" Haha, Kaiba Frown Number Three: confused and not happy to be. Check another point in the Bakura column. One more small victory for me, again. "Tell me there's something lost in the translation, or you're not pronouncing it right, or it's a euphemism, or something."
"It's a euphemism," I answer with an eyeroll. Really, just sometimes he gets on my nerves bad enough to consider breaking in a new Master of the City. But only sometimes, because who knows who we might get next. Maybe Noa, and that'd be terrifying. "It means human sacrifice. Someone used his death, and all those other deaths, to raise these guys."
"What kills zombies?" And wow, he doesn't know. He really doesn't know. There is something Treeboy doesn't know. Amazing.
"Not a lot. Fire. They don't like being out in the sunlight. Sounds like someone else we know, doesn't it? It doesn't kill them though, unlike someone we know."
"Now is not the best time for sarcasm, Bakura--"
"It's always the best time for sarcasm, Treeboy."
"--not when we're running quickly out of options, and my gods, don't you come with an off switch?!"
So... do I get double points for making him lose his cool in the face of imminent death? "What were you just saying about sarcasm?"
//Say it, now.//"Fuck!" I'm not crying. My eyes may be watering from the pain (one head isn't supposed to have to contain a voice like that) and I may be almost ready to beg Treeboy for a whammy so I can at least semi-block it out, but I am most certainly not crying. I don't cry, never have. And it's only this... thing in my head that ever makes me feel like it.
//Say it and this will end.//"Fuck fuck fuck fuck
fuck!" Great, I'm repeating myself. And I didn't notice it till now, but apparently, my head is keeping a beat with my mouth, because I'm banging it on the door in time to the words. Come on, unconsciousness. I don't even care if I get eaten, though I will be hoping for Treeboy to eat me and not those things outside; he'll probably make it hurt less. I'm not seriously considering this, am I? "Get out of my head!"
A hand clamps down on my shoulder. For half a second, I think they've managed to get through the door at last, before it sinks in that, while it's cooler than a human's would be, even through my shirt, it's not grave cold. In fact, it's vampire cold. Have they ever figured out the relative temperature difference between vampires and humans? Why am I wondering about this now?!
I let my eyes follow it up an arm, and wow, it's attached to Treeboy. I'll be damned. Go figure. Now isn't that just a tad on the odd side? Okay, forget 'a tad'; this is extremely strange. What? Does imminent dismemberment make him actually sentimental or something? Doesn't do a thing for me, except piss me off. I rather like all my limbs exactly where they are, with no new holes or additional injuries on them.
Okay, weirdly, I can concentrate a little better now. Just a little. The voice has retreated somewhat, and all I can figure is that's thanks to the first mark. So that adds another choice for making the voice retreat, in addition to, one, Yami and two, me knocking myself unconscious. If we live through this, it means I have options. Not that hanging out with Treeboy is always an appealing one, but sometimes, like now, when Yami and I are fighting... It starts looking a bit better. I wonder what that says about Yami's and my relationship, such that it is.
Still, he's not going to be able to hold this for long, not with those things trying so hard to get in. Not to say I don't appreciate the effort, but I'd rather live another two minutes, even if I'm being driven out of my head. And frankly, I'm not used to altruism, if that's what one could call this, and I never would have pictured it coming from the Ice Prince of all people. Furthermore, it makes me nervous; what exactly is he up to? If this is more of that 'I have a mark on you so I get a say in your life' bullshit, I'm staking him, plain and simple. One mark isn't enough to take me down with him, is it? I can still kill him without suiciding myself, right? Might still have to do it either way.
Either way, it deserves something. "Thanks," I say shortly. Because the brat has succeeded a bit on driving some manners into me. Why am I always practicing them on the Ice Prince, I wonder?
He nods once in return, and that's that on the subject. "We're running short on time." I half-glance at his arm and try to read his watch upside-down, with little luck. "It'll be dawn in an hour, and it doesn't appear as though they've left the structure enough intact for me to stay here during the day."
Not a word about how they're going to get in here any minute. That's refreshing. Not that
I'm going to quit worrying about--
A voice outside screams something very much like "Get them", and the door lurches forward. Despite every bit of my body weight, such that it is, being pressed hard against the door, I feel myself slide a few inches. The Ice Prince lets go of me to offer up a bit more of his own strength, and it slams back into place. Not that it matters too much: they'll be through the walls soon enough. They're making a new door on the wall a few feet to my right on the opposite wall. They get through that last bit of wood, and the fat lady will be striking up an aria, prima donna that she is.
Right beside me, the wood completely shatters in a fist-sized hole, and the smell quadruples. And if that's not bad enough, the hand that comes through grabs a chunk of my hair, and it apparently decides to pull me through its tiny hole by the hair, rather than wait to get in the regular way. Fuck! And I cut it after Halloween, from the small of my back up to above my shoulders. I guess that wasn't enough. I reach behind me and grab the fingers holding me in place -- and do my best to keep my stomach from rolling as they snap beneath mine. Human fingers shouldn't break that easily. Ugh, I hate zombies. I really, really do.
I jump back up to my feet the second I'm free and put my weight back on the door. Blue eyes glance at me. It's only through living with various Kaibas for two years that I recognize that faint expression of worry hiding well behind them. Great, the Ice Prince is worried; we're doomed. We are so fucking doomed. Focus on something else, Bakura. "Sounds like a woman out there bossing them around," I note absentmindedly. "Did we forget to leave someone a tip sometime?"
Even with both of us putting our full weight on it, the door tries to move again. "Bit of an extreme reaction for that, don't you think?" Was that...? I think that was a bad attempt at humor from the Ice Prince. Amazing. Will the wonders never cease?
"I don't know. There was this one time, back in Tokyo, when some guy stiffed me for something I stole for him, and I--"
My head explodes. That's how it feels at least. I'm actually a little surprised not to see brain bits on Kaiba. I might have even screamed, but I'm not sure. A cold hand latches on to my forearm, right over where I got bitten last year. Vampire cold again, not dead cold. Doesn't make any difference. This time I know I scream, and even though it's Kaiba and I know he's trying to work the mark between us, nothing happens, and that thing's screaming in what remains of my head. I'm screaming back, and Kaiba -- Treeboy -- the Ice Prince is yelling at me as well. None of it's making any sense through the pain, but I think I know one word coming from somewhere -- nowhere -- everywhere: "Zork".
It's only when I feel what can only be spirits start to pass through me, familiar ones -- there goes Kaiba, and Mokuba, and the other vampires, Ryou, the leopards, Jyonouchi, Yuugi... Yami -- belonging to people who aren't dead, not in the strictest sense of the word, and the world begins to spin into blackness, that I realize one very important thing.
I'm the one who said it.
posted by Apollymi @ 4:32 PM
Friday, May 18, 2007
Wander
Series: Torchwood
Pairing: Gwen + Jack
Rating: PG
Word Count: 334
Note: Title comes from the song that was playing when I finished: "Wander" by Kamelot, from the album, Epica. I suck at titles.
Falling for someone like Jack Harkness was doomed to failure from the beginning. She'd known that going into this though, of course. There were a thousand and more barriers separating him from her -- and Torchwood and his apparent immortality were just two of the most obvious ones. Rhys, Owen, Ianto, and "The Right Kind of DOCTOR" (That's how it sounded to her every time he said, caps and everything) made up four more very good reasons for her to her eyes glued on her work and not let them follow the Captain around the Hub.
It wasn't like there was anyone else down here to shift the blame of her distraction to either: Ianto was minding the front upstairs, Owen was still home recuperating from being a damn idiot and locking himself in a cage with a Weevil, and Tosh... was probably fussing over Owen.
The Weevil had been fed, a fun enough experience on its own; thankfully, it was still licking its wounds as well and had stayed on the far end of its cell; and Jack was feeding Myfanwy. Feeding said pterodactyl tended to consume all of one's attention, lest you lose a limb or, at the very least, a hand, and she wasn't too sure even Jack could regrow one. Maybe that was why he was so possessive of the one in the jar? It was his spare? Nope, that didn't make any more sense than any other possibility she'd come up with so far. Scratch that idea then.
(It had to belong to whoever it was that had Jack's heart. That was the running bet. A hundred quid from each of them went to Tosh if that was right, and it would be awful if a half-drunken suggestion was the correct guess.)
No, falling for someone like Jack Harkness would never end well for someone like her. But Jack-watching... That was a hobby she could indulge in, from time to time.
And lie to herself in the meantime.
posted by Apollymi @ 8:35 PM
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Who Is...?
Series: Torchwood
Character: Jack (others implied)
Pairings: None (or Jack/Gwen if you squint)
Word Count: 200 (double drabble)
Disclaimer: Doctor Who and Torchwood belong to the BBC. I'm just borrowing.
Who is Captain Jack Harkness?
Who is Jack? A leader, a fighter, a lover? A man with more secrets than is healthy? What do we really know about Jack?
Who is the Captain? A man who knows more about the alien tech we deal with every day than anyone else at Torchwood -- with no explanation as to why he knows any of this, at least as far as gets to us. 'Captain Jack Harkness' isn't even his real name, as far as we know, from what Tosh found out in 1941, when she met the 'real' Captain Jack Harkness. There, Jack introduced himself as 'Captain James Harper'; is that his real name or another alias?
What
do we know about Jack? From the sex alien incident, we know that hand is more important to him than anything else. Thinking back, there are things he's said that made it seem he wasn't from this world, time, something. We know he can't die: that we can account for, he's been shot on two separate occasions... and then there was Abaddon.
Why do you keep doing this, Gwen?Because, if we can find out
who he is, maybe we can find
him.
posted by Apollymi @ 10:11 AM
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Belladonna - Chapter Three
Series: GundamW, Sailormoon
Genre: Crossover, Romance, Supernatural
Main Pairing: Duo/Usagi/Hiiro
Word Count: 2,066
'I'm not going crazy -- she is
real.'The mere thought was a relief. Despite Duo's reassurances, he'd had his doubts that his nebulous claim on sanity was still valid. After all, sanity and Duo Maxwell were barely acquainted, much less close friends, for the other man to tell if Hiiro himself was sane. The past few days had seemed like a hallucination -- or maybe a really weird, somewhat bad dream -- but at least he hadn't lost his mind.
That was also a relief.
And he was staring. Apparently only Duo had noticed it so far, if the concerned expression on his friend's face was any indication, but he might want to knock it off before it got him in more trouble than it already had.
Duo's hand brushed his, and it was both a question ("Are you all right?") and a prompt ("Say something."), neither of which he could really ignore. Like he could ignore the American for very long anyway... "Pleased to meet you," he finally choked out, half-remembered manners lessons asserting themselves.
He felt more than heard Duo heave out a heavy sigh. When he half-glanced over out of the corner of his eye, though, a huge smile -- almost definitely fake, as much as Duo ever lied about anything -- was plastered across his face. The sigh probably came from his proving yet again that he had the social skills of a Mobile Doll, and the smile most likely meant Duo was about to take matters into his own hands. A gregarious "And so am I," complete with a half-step forward and friendly extended hand, confirmed his theory. Sometimes predicting Duo wasn't as hard as it may at first seem, if one knew the man as long as he had. "Duo Maxwell."
That smile was designed, he'd long decided, to put people on their ease. It seemed to be doing its job in spades on Ririna's new friend. A faint flush stained her cheeks, and a nervous grin covered her lips -- and somehow the thought occurred that this might be how he looked when Duo flirted with him. "M-my name's Usagi." Her expression grew into a thousand kilowatt smile that threatened to bowl him over.
Somehow, in some deep, hidden part of himself, maybe even perhaps the part responsible for these dreams, something told him he was in trouble if -- no,
when, it provided -- they ever ganged up on him.
* * *
"I've missed you, Hiiro."
He was only half-listening to whatever Ririna was talking about. It was late, it had been a strange day, he was tired -- and he was accepting that as why he felt like his mind was straying into unfamiliar territory. It was stupid to worry about his partner now, with the wars over, but he was far from comfortable with this strange new situation they'd found themselves caught in. And Duo was alone in the next room with the so-called angel he'd been seeing his dreams as of late. At least Duo could defend himself if the situation ended up calling for it -- and at least he lacked Quatre's odd qualms about hitting a female. If something happened, Duo was much better equipped to handle it than Ririna and her bodyguards, Preventers though they might be. There was really no reason at all to worry. None whatsoever. So why was he still... concerned?
"Hiiro?"
At the faint distress he could pick up in Ririna's voice, he redirected his attentions back from his tired thoughts to the Vice-Foreign Minister. "What?"
"Have you heard a word I said?" Time spent around Duo allowed him to hear the teasing in her voice when only a year ago he would have taken her words literally, and so he waited till she decided to continue speaking. "It just seems strange, all these odd things happening lately."
This time alarms went off in his mind, and for a long second, all he could think was
'Nothing more weird. Please, no more weird. The last thing either Duo or I need is more weird.' "What kind of odd things?"
"See? I knew you weren't listening." But she was smiling and continuing to speak without any further joking. "It's strange -- I know I keep saying that, but it's the best word for the situation. In the last few weeks, things have been happening. Really, really odd things, and they've all been since I brought Usagi home."
In the last few weeks? So, perhaps, right around the same time he'd started dreaming and Duo had started moving things with his mind? "Ririna, what exactly has been happening?" To his own ears, his voice sounded nervous, maybe even stressed; something gave him the distinct feeling that he sounded absolutely normal to anyone listening.
She glanced to the side, staring out the window at the storm still raging beyond the glass. "It's hard to put into words. Things...
happen around Usagi, things that I can't explain. Like earlier, I was worried about the two of you out there in this mess, and I accidentally said that I wished you were here already, and then you were here. People keep making these idle wishes around her -- and they keep coming true!" She'd begun her words calmly and rationally enough, but by the end, she was nearly shrieking, like it was all catching up with her. Finally she took a deep breath and began again. "Usagi is a dear friend, but Hiiro, this is just unnerving."
Suddenly he had the very distinct wish that he was with Duo and the so-called angel, Usagi. He had no idea what to say to his friend right now. What did one normally say in situations like this? Not 'situations like this' with the odd occurrences of course, but 'situations like this' with an upset friend. Surely there had to be something. "Duo and I will figure out what's going on. That's why we came here." Maybe that would be good enough for now.
"You heard about all this?" Well, at least it was good enough to distract her from the previous topic.
He shrugged and hedged out a "We knew something was going on here." It was close enough to the truth that even Duo might have said it..
"It couldn't have just been a social visit, could it?" There was uncharacteristic bitterness in her voice, not a lot, but enough to snag his attention, enough to make him notice it. "You can't come to see me unless there's trouble. I wish--"
He wasn't too sure on the range of this Usagi's abilities -- if that was indeed what they were, since they matched the description of nothing he'd ever heard of before, even with all the research he'd been doing the last few weeks -- but it was better to be safe than sorry, especially in a case like this. He leaned forward quickly and put a silencing hand over her mouth. Less than a second later, her hand covered his, apparently reaching the same conclusion, if the wide-eyed panic on her face was any indication. "You probably shouldn't do that, Ririna, if wishes
do tend to come true around this girl."
She nodded enthusiastically and drew their hands away from her mouth before speaking. "I know, Hiiro. Believe me, I know." She sighed. "But it's like that story, with the monkey's paw. You just have to keep making wishes, and so few of them turn out right. I might have just as easily accidentally wished you and Duo to Siberia as to here." She was still a bit hysterical then, but maybe she'd wind down soon. He didn't think shaking her till she snapped out of it would go over well. "I'm afraid I won't be able to stop myself from wishing one of these days. Do you--"
Abruptly she cut herself off, and he frowned. "Do I what?"
She was hesitantly silent for several long minutes. "Is there any way you and Duo can take her with you when you leave again?" At least she accepted that they were leaving this time. There wouldn't be a scene as there might have been years ago. But what was she thinking with this? "It's not fair of me to use Usagi like this. It's not fair of me to ask you to do what I can't either, but there's not way around it that I can see. If anyone can resist this, it's you, Hiiro."
The faith she had in him was touching and it worked into their plans ideally, maybe better than he'd dared hope, but...
* * *
So maybe the Hiiro in the dreams
his Hiiro kept having had the right idea, thinking of this girl as an angel. She certainly fit the classical definition of one, as well as having the temperament generally assigned to celestial beings. She was all smiles and honest joy, though something told him it was at least in part due to having someone other than just Ririna pay attention to her.
If there was an evil bone in her body, he'd give up flirting with Hiiro for a month. Okay, no, not a month. Maybe a week. Two days might be a more believable span, but still... Okay, maybe she wasn't bad, just going on a gut feeling, but that didn't mean her talent -- or whatever about her had grabbed the attention of Hiiro's abilities -- wasn't dangerous. It also didn't mean that people couldn't use her for their own purposes, if she had a talent or not; even he could see just how potent a figurehead she could be, maybe even more so than Ririna. She was beautiful, radiated purity -- and best of all, she had no idea who she was. The possibilities were, well, in a word, sickening.
And on a completely different note, he didn't think he knew anyone, male or female, who blushed as prettily. Hiiro might flush more often and more easily, and he adored that about the man, but he'd yet to make it look nearly this adorable. Even better, no matter what he may say that might turn her face whatever shade of red, she had ready either a quick rejoinder or a smiling laugh.
He had no way of know what -- if anything -- Ririna might have told her about the war, since it was easy to tell she didn't remember it (
'Was she even in this century for it?', his mind questioned, and right now, he had no answer). Therefore, he made sure not to mention it directly, but instead work his stories around it, maybe embellishing things here and there to make for a better story, but let it not be said that he'd lied to make a pretty girl laugh, because he hadn't. Enough time spent trying to coax a smile out of his taciturn partner had made spinning war stories more humorously easier, and getting Usagi to laugh at the discovery of a decapitated and stripped-bare Shinigami was definitely an amusing prospect for him as well.
How were they going to breach the subject of her coming with them -- or at least sticking with them long enough to figure out what about her was so important to these dreams Hiiro kept having -- was going to be an interesting thing to figure out. History wasn't exactly his strongest subject, but he was pretty sure even people in the late twentieth century weren't trusting enough to go off with a couple of strangers, even if they were friends of a friend of hers. And kidnapping wasn't a good idea: for one, it had been years since he'd had to kidnap someone, so he might be a bit rusty; and for a second, there was always the possibility that her abilities -- if she indeed
had any, and this wasn't just some fluke... not that Hiiro had flukes -- might be hazardous to his continued lifespan.
It was somewhat telling that, as the door opened to readmit a somber-looking Hiiro and Ririna, Usagi's laughter took a moment to peter out: she was self-conscious, at least a bit, then. And the smile faded from her face as the silence stretched. Of course, then again, he could feel his own doing the same.
Ririna finally broke the tableau with a heavy sigh. "Usagi, we need to talk."
posted by Apollymi @ 9:39 PM
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Fortis - Chapter One
Series: GundamW
Word Count: 883
Working an eight-hour a night, five nights a week job to pay the bills never really leaves enough time to do the real job, I muse to myself as I nurse my third double-expresso caramel coffee of the day; I'm trying to cut back, but in all honesty, I'm a caffeine addict. Since I stumbled downstairs around noon from my loft above the store and grabbed a muffin and my first drink of the day from Barton's across the street in time to open by one, it's been nonstop: take a sip, read a page, take a sip, read a page, take a sip, turn the page, repeat. Hell, today's been duller than usual as my days go. I mean, no knife fights in the streets, no one using 'the weird guy's store' (that would be mine, mind you) to hide out from the cops/the person trying to kill them, and of course, no customers.
If I ever get that Christmas bonus from the bagging, I'm
so going to have to pay off my tab. Hey, maybe if there's a little left over, I can even send Howie the loudest Hawaiian shirt I can turn up; that's always a hoot. Planning what to do with that bonus is never fun, but at least this way I don't end up overextending myself... again. So, first off, pay my Barton's tab; second, buy Howie a new shirt; and third, if anything is left over after all that, see about springing for myself a meal bigger than the Value Menu at McDonalds.
I fucking hate being broke. Not that I think anyone sits around and says, "Gee, I can't wait to have no money whatsoever and have to rely on my neighbors' good will and long tab sheets.' Or in Chang's case, those elusive discounts and sales that somehow manage to get my supplies down into the range of what I have in my pockets. You know, I might object to being the neighborhood charity case if I weren't trying to figure out a way to get someone to pay to have my heat cut back on. Even my resident gargoyle as fled in search of warmer climes and they can barely feel the cold!
So let's review the situation: two days till Christmas; no clients; no heat; no clients; Shinigami the gargoyle gone to stay with his sister Nataku because Chang can afford heat; no clients; no Christmas bonus yet; and, oh yeah, no clients. No prospects of any anytime soon either; Yule is always my slowest season, which is really saying something because business is always slow. One of these Yules, I'm going to admit defeat. Not this year, though, not even if I get another of those 'Close the shop and go to the clinic before you get pneumonia' calls from the Oracle of New York again. Though, believe me, it's not fun being told just how many things he missed because I came down with an overblown case of the sniffles.
I lift my cup for another sip, only to realize it's empty. Damn, who'd have thought mystic rebellions in Han Dynasty China would have been stirring enough to finish the drink this quickly. Chang drops me off the weirdest reading material, you know. Last week it was the role of magic in Asian martial arts. It almost makes up for the fact that my only burglary system - Shinigami - is at his place.
Of course, once I realize my source of liquid warmth is gone, the cold just comes rushing in twice as strong as before. "The mystic hub of North American just
had to be New York, didn't it? It couldn't be some place sunny and warm, like Miami or, hey, maybe even L.A.," I have to complain to myself with a smirk as I go grab another jacket from the backroom.
"Do you always talk to yourself?"
I'd like to say I'd heard him come in, but I'd be lying and I would always rather avoid that. The front door is the only thing quiet in this place, especially since Shinigami ate the bell I'd installed over it. That little incident would be why I learned the hard way not to let gargoyles run out of their food of choice, which in Shinigami's case would be upholstery and carpet.
Still, even without a door bell, I should have heard him come in. It's not like Shinigami left a stitch of carpet to block out the sound of footsteps, and I was only gone a few minutes. He's... not exactly dressed like someone who tends to be stealthy, but appearances can be deceiving. There has to be plenty of suits who have good reason to be quiet. Take this guy, Zechs, who hangs out over at Barton's for example: he's an utter suit, but he's got a psycho sister who makes harpies seem sane, so he sneaks around like a damn ninja.
Okay, maybe I'm babbling a bit (It happens when I get nervous), but damn, it's hard not to when you're faced with the most gorgeous thing on two legs. Lean, not too tall, vaguely Oriental (I'm guessing Japanese) features, all in one neat package and tied off with a bow of bright blue eyes. Wow. Just... wow.
posted by Apollymi @ 7:57 AM
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Belladonna - Chapter Two
Series: GundamW, Sailormoon
Genre: Crossover, Romance, Supernatural
Main Pairing: Duo/Usagi/Hiiro
Word Count: 1,515
It was refreshing to have a friend who didn't see her for her money or her power and position, even if she was a bit odd, Ririna thought to herself with a faint smile. Oh, her bodyguards, currently on loan from the Preventers, were none too keen on the idea of the Vice-Foreign Minister bringing home some amnesiac war orphan she'd met glad-handing at a hospital on Earth in her latest goodwill mission, but she didn't really care. Usagi was the one of first real friends she'd had in what seemed like forever, since Hiiro vanished two years ago once he was recovered from the Mariemeia Incident.
Hiiro hadn't been on her mind much except in the periphery as of late, she recalled in amusement -- at least not until Duo called to wake her up late -- very late -- last night (And she wasn't going to ask how he'd gotten the number to the personal, unlisted line in her bedroom. One just didn't ask Duo those kinds of questions; the answers tended to be a bit on the alarming side and generally tended to make her glad they were friends.) and let her know that he and Hiiro were on their way here.
She had to stifle another smile. It was good to know at least one person was able to track down the Japanese man and stay by his side. She worried about her friend a lot less than she might otherwise have since Duo was so frequently with him. One of these days, though, she'd like to see them when it didn't involve herself and/or the Earth Sphere and the colonies being in danger. A friendly visit would be a welcome change.
In the years that she'd know them, though, she'd never heard worry in Duo's voice like she'd heard on the phone. She'd always assumed that he didn't let things worry him, that he just acted on what was bothering him and moved past it. Or, at least as she'd come to learn, that's how he was when what was bothering him didn't directly affect Hiiro as well, at which point all bets were off. She could relate, since the same held true for her with her few friends, Hiiro especially. He deserved the rest of his life to be without worry or war. She would do anything and everything in her power to make sure that happened, and it reassured her to know that Duo would do the same -- and probably more since he wasn't quite as bound by legality as she was.
Usagi was making that list as well, though, short though it might be. For not having a memory to speak of, the blonde's blue eyes reminded her of Hiiro's: world-weary, tired, sad, the eyes of someone who had seen too much and had no need or want to talk about it ever again. At least Usagi didn't remember what had happened, whatever it was. How she wished she could say the same for Hiiro. That was one of many wishes for her friend she had, though, and she didn't foresee any of them coming true.
"Ririna-san?" She started at the sound of Usagi's voice. The girl had an absolute talent for sneaking around. She glanced up to see the blonde standing in the doorway to her home office, a worried look in her blue eyes. "Are you all right?"
Her friend did always seem to have a way of knowing when something was bothering her. It was uncanny, since they'd only known each other a few weeks. "I'm fine, Usagi. I'm just worried about Hiiro and Duo getting here okay in this weather." She looked over her shoulder at the torrents of rain pouring down outside the house.
"It is looking pretty nasty out there." As if to punctuate her words, a bolt of lightning shot down, close enough to hear the pop inside. "Your friends shouldn't be out there in this mess."
She frowned in worry, turning all her attention to the weather beyond the window. "No, they shouldn't. I wish they were here already."
At her side, Usagi stiffened, just briefly, like she tended to do when anyone started a sentence like that. Usually Ririna was careful to avoid saying those words, mindful of the way they seemed to make her friend uncomfortable -- but also equally mindful of the fact that whatever was 'wished' for around the younger girl had an alarming tendency to come true. This time, though, she couldn't have avoided it if she'd wanted to: she
would prefer Hiiro and Duo to be here already.
As if on cue, the ringing of the front doorbell echoed through the large house, loud enough to startle her from her reverie. Usagi looked a little pale and the wan smile on her face seemed pasted on, but she was making the attempt to be cheerful. "What do you want to bet that's your friends?"
Given what she'd witnessed over the last few weeks, that two of the former Gundam pilots were at the door was a pretty strong chance. So in answer, she just smiled and headed out of the room, dimly aware of Usagi following her.
* * *
Ririna looked... good, he supposed. It wasn't like he hadn't seen her in the two years since the Mariemeia Incident, but her television appearances hadn't really show how she was. She'd cut her hair a bit but otherwise looked much the same as the last time he'd seen her. That was... good as well, he supposed.
He just wasn't too sure why he was here. He'd told Duo about seeing that girl, the so-called angel, near Ririna, dating her at a point they could investigate -- and somehow within a day, they'd ended up on the road to the Vice-Foreign Minister's estate. They'd driven through the night, making good time till they hit this storm and had been forced to slow down. Then somehow they'd gotten from the highway to the estate in the blink of an eye. It didn't seem like something Duo should be able to do, even with this odd new ability of his, so that left a whole new set of possibilities that he didn't really want to consider too heavily just yet.
Duo had both their bookbags, one slung over each of his shoulders, wordlessly acknowledging something he'd never verbally told his friend: that weather like this made his whole right arm and shoulder ache in remembered pain of the abuse it had taken two years ago. Not that Duo hadn't taken his own fair share of beatings in the wars, but if it bothered the American, he never gave any sign of it. "Hi there, Princess," he greeted Ririna with an easy smile. Even he couldn't tell if the other man was faking it or not, and he liked to think he could read Duo fairly well. "How've you been?"
The smile she returned was a lot easier to read: she was genuinely glad to see them. "I've been well, thank you. What about you?"
Duo shrugged. "Same old, same old."
Sometimes Duo amazed him. How could he just be standing there making small talk after what had just happened? Wasn't he at all curious about how they'd come to be here so suddenly? For the moment, he continued to bite his tongue. Who knew? Maybe Duo was leading up to it. Or was this one of those 'being polite' things he'd never quite mastered?
A quiet shuffle of noise, barely loud enough for even him to notice, drew his attention to the open door behind Ririna. Less than a moment later, a familiar face, framed by long blonde hair, peered around the door. Blue eyes, a shade or two brighter than his own, glanced at him then Duo briefly before locking onto Ririna's back. It was just as well she hadn't said anything; he was pretty sure the breath had been shocked out of him: it was the angel, the same girl he'd been seeing in his dreams.
The quiet around him was what drew him back out of his surprise. Apparently Ririna had asked him something, and when he didn't respond, they'd both turned to see what was distracting him. Duo was following his gaze -- and he looked a little pale himself. She was the same girl they'd tracked down, the one from the past, the same age and exact identical appearance to her photograph online; a little shock was certainly allowed in extenuating circumstances like this.
Ririna was smiling though, seemingly oblivious to the surprise on their faces, and took a few steps back to grasp the girl's hand lightly in her own. "Hiiro, Duo, I would like you to meet my new friend, Usagi. Usagi,
this is Hiiro and Duo."
She smiled very faintly and sketched an even fainter bow, an archaic gesture that seemed so out of place, yet... "I'm very pleased to meet you."
And for just a moment, all he could think was
'I'm not going crazy -- she is
real'.
posted by Apollymi @ 4:26 PM
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Automatic Paranoia - Chapter Two
You know, somehow I didn't realize Treeboy knew how to drive. I always figured, you know, he sat down in the car and one of the drivers just showed up. A weird thought, I know, but somehow it made sense in my head at the time. But the blue, an idiot could have guessed that. Obsession much?
He didn't say a word, which somehow was what struck me as really odd, though. Weird, huh? Treeboy was never been a big talker, but when you were waiting to catch crap... Well, it could go either way, which would be worse: the waiting or the actual conversation (read: argument) that was inevitably going to ensue. Really, it was just as well I had no intention of letting him give me the other marks: if I were his human servant, I'd have to kill him within a few months.
We were out of the gates and pulled onto the main road before he finally opened his mouth. "You realize Rebecca just won the bet."
Talk about unexpected. The idea that Treeboy even knew about the betting pool was actually kind of amusing; I didn't think he lowered himself to keep up with little things like that. "She was the only one who bet on Yami?" He nodded, and I smirked for a second before realizing it hurt too much to bother. "She must have cleared a fair share then."
"Over fifteen hundred American." Wow. I'd be impressed if it weren't for the fact I knew they were betting my temper would snap first. And I couldn't deny it came close a few times. But there was no way I was taking a swing at anyone, at any of my people, not after Oyaji. I'd seen what happens once you start hitting people close to you -- I'd lived it and I had seen its consequences; that's why I could hold myself back.
And I remembered the way I'd blacked out once I started hitting Oyaji with that fireplace poker. I couldn't hit him because I didn't know if I'd be able to stop.
"Who all betted?" Not that I was plotting revenge or anything. Perish the thought. Who would ever think I'd want revenge?
"All the wolves, most of the cats, Varon, Mokuba, Noa." He made a turn that felt like ninety degrees; holy shit, did he learn to drive from Akito? I just found myself a lot more interested in buckling in and finding something to hold on to. "Ishtars One and Two couldn't decide which weapon you were going to use, so they didn't bet. I believe Yuugi bet double."
"The midget's in for it," I managed to grit out between clenched teeth, pretty sure there would be impressions of my fingers on the arm rest for all time. "I can't believe he'd bet on his brother getting his lights punched out."
He shrugged. "You aren't known for your self-restraint or thinking things out before you do or say them." And then my teeth were clenched to keep from growling, and I was holding on to the arm rest to keep from grabbing him, shaking him, and demanding to know what the fuck that was supposed to mean. And who said I had no self-restraint? "Or will Kisara find a body upstairs?"
"Asshole."
"Which I'm assuming means no." I released the arm rest long enough to flip him off. He didn't seem to notice, which meant he was concentrating hard on the road -- which probably meant he was about to do something he didn't want to -- which would probably be the lecture we both knew was coming. "So what brought it on?"
"The fight? He's had some ghosts following him around since the kidnapping that he never bothered to mention."
And that got me Kaiba Frown Number Three (so named because many of the Kaibas use them): confusion. "Did he know about them?"
I shot him one of the deadliest glares in my arsenal, which happened to be improving the longer I spent around the Kaibas, the masters of the deadly glare. But that also apparently meant they were immune to them because it rolled right off him. "Yes, he knew."
"So that's what started the fight." Shifting slightly was the only indication he gave of this being an... uncomfortable conversation for him. Otherwise he was a rock, and God damn it, it made me want to hit him even more. But moving at all meant he really didn't want to be doing the 'personal' talk, which any other time would have made me want to antagonize him the details... if it wasn't my life we were discussing. "So what led to the punch?"
"Nothing that's any of your damn business." Great, I'd been kidnapped to talk about my relationship. If I hadn't been in fear for my life with the way he drives, I might have been tempted to let him have it. As it was, I just wanted to survive the ride. "He brought up Amane, why he hadn't know about her." And why the hell was my mouth moving without my brain? "I told him that I didn't tell Malik about her till I'd known him two years."
"And that's what set him off?" I couldn't help but think that Yami's IQ just went down about twenty points in Treeboy's book. Not that he thought too highly of Yami's intelligence anyway. "Why?"
"The nutjob and I had a thing together, back before I left Tokyo. Five years ago," I added for clarification. Like he didn't already know. As anal as Treeboy was, he probably had dossiers on us to put the Tokyo police, the military, and the American FBI to shame. "I told Yami about it a few months ago." I turned my attention out the window at to the scenery whipping by. "To say he took it badly would be an understatement."
Another sharp turn, and I was officially in areas of town I wasn't familiar with. And damn it, I was not getting a bad feeling about this! There was no way... Well, no, fuck, there were plenty of ways this could all go wrong, but thinking about them just tended to make the whole situation worse, and it was bad enough as is.
"Why do you stay with him?"
I didn't have to look at him to know he wasn't looking at me. He would have his eyes locked on the road. He probably hadn't meant to say that out loud, but it was out -- and I'd be damned if it didn't need an answer.
"Because you so enjoy his presence. I'd hate to deprive you of that."
"Bakura..." And that had been growled. Score one for me; I made the Ice Prince lose his cool. "If you didn't have the first mark, we'd probably be taking you to the hospital right now."
"That's pushing it a bit, Treeboy. Yami's human. There's no way he could hit me that hard."
"Nonetheless, you have the first mark and therefore are harder to hurt, and he still managed to do that to you." He reached over with one hand and flipped the visor down. A mirror was there, believe it or not. There weren't any at all in the house, so I didn't think there would be any in the car short of the rear view. "Take a look."
"Okay!" It was all I could do not to scream the words. "Just put both of your hands back on the wheel!"
Once he'd complied, I did look, and okay, yes, it did look pretty bad. But it was far from the worst bruise I'd ever had -- and it had only been one punch. Oyaji had usually doled them out in sets of ten or more. Not that the number of hits discounted the fact he'd hit me at all, and I was still steamed about that. Even more so, since it was Treeboy giving me the lecture. Still, it was a fairly bad bruise: it was already turning weird colors and starting to swell. It probably wasn't going to be bad enough to impair my vision, but I was definitely going to be uncomfortable the next few days. Maybe Treeboy did have a bit of a point: ordinarily, I'd have been at least knocked out by this. And if this was with the first mark in place, how bad would it have been without it?
New rule: Yami could punch like a son of a bitch, so if there was something I needed to tell him that I thought he wouldn't like, I wouldn't tell him. Not too big a deal; it was not like my life was an open book for him or anybody to read. I still had secrets no one, not even the brat or Malik knew, not the least of which being the real story about what happened last Halloween.
And he caught me staring at the mirror. "So why do you stay with him, Bakura? I can have him thrown out in half a minute."
Was that a Treeboy-ish offer to help out? How... interesting. I guess he deserved an honest, non-joking answer after that. "Most of the time, I enjoy the fighting, at least when punches aren't being thrown. It's fun because we're such total opposites. I like making up after the fights. And..." How to put this? "He makes the voices stop."
It was a damn good thing no one else was on the road this time of night: he skidded across the road when he whipped his head around to stare at me, from what I was catching out of the corner of my eye. Well, that was odd. There should still be people out, walking if not driving, this close to the sun going down, but the streets were utterly deserted. Maybe this part of Domino actually shut down at night? Every window we passed, whether it was a shop or a home, was black. If the streetlights weren't on, I'd have wondered if there was a power outage, but with them still functioning...
"Voices?" For all his surprised turn to stare at me and the road skid, his voice was amazingly calm. Had no one told him, though? I certainly didn't recall it if we had. In fact, the only conversation I could remember Treeboy being present for was Kitty's extremely abbreviated one two years ago, before we'd known he was Master of Domino, and that was just that I could sense ghosts. Nothing about all the fun extras. "What voices?"
"Ghosts, mostly. Spirits, that sort of thing."
"I thought you just sensed them." He paused to shudder very slightly, almost imperceptibly. "And using them to tear things apart."
I snorted. "Just sensed them? Yeah, right. They do everything but knock on the front door when they want to be noticed." In fact, a few of them had even done that, but there was no reason for him to know that. "I can see them, hear them, and you already know I can call them." I laughed, completely humorlessly, and he stared at me like I'd gone over the deep end. "I can even tell you exactly how many people have died in your house."
If vampires could go white, he probably would have then. "Would I want to know?"
"Probably not." The number was almost definitely higher than he'd be comfortable with, even with the laws against hunting humans that had been passed about four years ago.
He straightened the car onto the correct side of the road again, his entire demeanor relaxing. Damn, now that would be a neat talent: the ability to look completely calm no matter what. Probably one of those useful Kaiba talents they'd never share, though. "So you can hear, see, and summon these ghosts?" I nodded. "Those are the voices Yami stops?" Another nod, but a bit more hesitant than the last. I couldn't really decide if I should tell him about The Voice, as I still thought of it even knowing its name, or not. Somehow he caught the hesitancy and asked, "What else?"
"It's mostly the ghosts, but," I had to take a deep breath before I could say it, it sounded so outlandish, "there is one other voice. I just don't hear it as often, only when when something bad is happening. Sometimes I can stop it myself, but sometimes Yami is the only one who can." There was no point in telling him the only times I'd controlled it myself, I'd either rode it out till something (like Mini-Me suddenly being alive) surprised me or I'd been rendered unconscious.
"What kind of a voice?"
I shook my head. "I don't really know. I first felt it the first time I summoned all those ghosts at Pegasus', when we found out about you being the Master, then when Cynthia was shot. Then I heard it a lot louder when I... took care of Oyaji. The worst, though, was last Halloween."
That caught his attention. "You heard it then too?"
"Right before I got bit." And as I recalled it, the only thing that shut The Voice up that time was my head hitting a wall at high speed, not an experience I'd like to repeat any time soon. I didn't think he really wanted to hear that either.
And damn it, I refused to start having a bad feeling! Because I wasn't! Not a snowflake's chance in hell. There was no way I was going to have a bad feeling before he even parked the car.
"Any ideas on what it is?" So he wasn't even going to bother asking if I was a few more steps around the bend than usual? Well, that was refreshing. I could get spoiled on non-reactions... which would be why I hadn't mentioned The Voice to Kitty and begged Mai not to mention it to the other wolves. Non-reactions were pretty much an exception to the rule where Weres were concerned.
"Not really. That first, the ghosts reached for it because of how powerful it is -- and I think it was in Tokyo, somewhere underground. It's coming knocking on my mind here in Domino every time since then. It said a name last Halloween, but..."
He waited a moment before prompting, "But?" I kept my gaze fixed on what I could make out of the scenery rushing by. There were fewer and fewer buildings, all of them dark. That just couldn't be good. And the flickering streetlights just cast an even more ominous feeling.
"It told me to say its name and it would destroy all those creatures. I don't think saying its name would be a good thing. Do you know where the hell we are?"
"There's a church a few blocks from here. I believe that's where we're supposed to meet this person. If I could find a way to block the voices--"
"Kaiba." I think he blinked; I know he swerved slightly. "Yeah, I can call you by name. I know you mean well and all, but lay the hell off." From the look on his face, I had to guess no one had ever said anything like that to him before. And he'd dated Kitty how long? "I'm pissed at Yami, but I'm also rather attached to the little asshole Pharaoh. Yes, you have a mark on me, and I appreciate you saving me the weeks of healing and putting up with Varon's shit it would have taken otherwise. But that doesn't put you in charge of my sex life. And if you try to pull Master of the City rank, I will yank the tree out of your ass and stake you with it."
Well, that actually felt pretty good. He looked stunned for all of a minute, then the expression slowly graduated to pissed off, not that it was a huge difference between the two unless one knew what to look for -- and I did. You couldn't go by the face because that rarely changed; it was all in the eyes, now I could meet them at least. The thought briefly struck me that I was sitting in a very small enclosed space with a master vampire who I was doing a rather thorough job of cheesing off, but I let it pass right on by. Pissing off said master vampire and not getting snapped in half like a twig was one of the perks of being among said master vampire's people; we might annoy the shit out of him sometimes, but he'd sooner walk out in the sunlight than betray one of us. I knew the feeling; I was much the same way.
No, what concerned me was that the angry expression changed again, this time to something more indefinable, something I couldn't recall ever seeing cross his eyes before, and he started slowing the car, finally bringing it to a halt at the mouth of a thin street between two abandoned-looking buildings. Metal piping that might have once been bicycle racks in a better life stood between us and the alley; if I were the poetic sort, I'd have said they were like sentinels standing guard.
He opened the door, and that was when it hit me like a metaphysical punch in the gut: death, old, recent, and fresh all clamoring for attention at once. In fact, one of them seemed so fresh that Treeboy must have caught the scent of the blood... because even I could almost smell it. The feeling I was picking up, the death, it was so strong that it was almost overwhelming. Someone -- or more probably several someones -- had died painfully here in the last few nights.
To my own surprise, I didn't want to find out. Hell, I didn't even want to follow Treeboy out of the car, but at the same time, I had to know. I damn sure didn't want to so much as contemplate reaching for the souls that had to be nearby (it's a rare ghost that leaves the scene of its murder), but it wasn't like the Ice Prince was going to turn it up on his own. So I reached -- then froze.
I guess I was standing there in shell shock a few seconds too long because Treeboy prompted, "Bakura?" That snapped me back out of it.
"Several people died near here."
He nodded, looking away, down that dark alley that oddly seemed like something from a nightmare to me. "I can tell that much."
"They died... but there's no souls left."
posted by Apollymi @ 12:41 PM
Name: Apollymi
