Counterpoise drabble (2015-07-26)

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“So what exactly is our jounin-sensei’s test? Who is our jounin-sensei, anyway?” Konran asked, matching pace with their longer strides despite shorter legs as the three of them left the Academy building.

As far as Ringo was concerned, Konran was okay. A little weird, a little quiet, and just plain little, but okay. He and Zakuro could have been assigned worse, truth be told. Like that Hyuuga with a stick up his ass–well, all of the Hyuuga had sticks up their asses, but Hyuuga Shikai was an especially snobby piece of shit–or Yamanaka Shigo who lorded his second degree relation to the Yamanaka clan head as if it were a personal triumph.

Or even Inuzuka Mimi who once threatened to castrate Zakuro with a rusty senbon –though, he did kind of deserve it considering he did shave a stripe of fur off her dog partner, Dangan–and had held a grudge against the two of them (Ringo for not preventing it) ever since.

Well, actually, they ended up on the same team. Which wasn’t surprising, considering all three of them were from big name clans; Probably the shoo-in team for their year.

But he’d enjoy being Team Five with his best friend and Konran for however long it lasted.

“That’s the test,” he said, watching but not interfering as Zakuro circled back behind Konran, “We have to figure out who our jounin-sensei is, then we have to find him, then… well. There might be more after that.”

Without looking, Konran ducked Zakuro’s grab at the hood, but didn’t bother to dodge the friendly shoulder nudge that nearly sent the smaller ninja sprawling.

“Hence the walk to the Administrative Building,” he continued, then reached out and flicked Zakuro’s ear, “Hey asshole, quit antagonizing our teammate.”

“Fuck off, Ringo,” he responded amiably, stretching an arm companionably around said teammate’s shoulders, the height difference forcing him to slouch significantly to do so, “Konran knows I’m just playing.”

Ringo knew that, but they had only just met the kid–Konran might not know that.

Rather than shrugging off the arm, Konran jabbed an elbow into Zakuro’s ribs, taking advantage the height difference, then said, “As if this guy could get my hood off, anyway.”

Zakuro grunted at the pain, but was only mildly offended, “You little shit. Challenge accepted.”

As they neared the Admin Building, the air of playful roughhousing dissipated in the face of all the productivity. They had a mission to do, too, one which decided their future.

~

A/N: I was going to continue but… meh? Maybe tomorrow.

Direct sequel to this Counterpoise drabble from yesterday.

Counterpoise drabble (2015-07-25)

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“You a guy or a girl?” asked the Nohara boy, eyes squinted in curiosity. Konran resisted the urge to check her braid, hairpins, bandana, and hood.

“What does it matter?” said the Yuuhi boy, cutting her off before she could answer, “It’s just a brat that they put on our team to fill the numbers. We’re gonna be automatically failed by the jounin-sensei. I’ll end up in the genjutsu squad, you’ll end up in the medic corps, and this one’ll go straight back to the Academy because there’s no way this kid actually passed.”

“Two years isn’t that much of an age difference,” was all she could think to say in response.

“Hey, fuck you, this is our first graduation year, we’re thirteen not fourteen,” retorted the Yuuhi boy.

“What this jackass means to say is that we’re both just kind of tall for our age. We just look old, we didn’t do a repeat year. And to be honest, it’s like he said, when our jounin-sensei rejects us, we’re not coming back to the Academy for a retry. It’s not your fault, though,” the Nohara boy tacked on the reassurance, though his face could only be called a grimace.

“Oh. Three years difference, then,” she corrected, unsure what to do with the rest.

“Fucking shit, you’re ten? Did they just pull a random brat from a classroom and give you a headband. You haven’t even been in the Academy for very long. Goddammit, I knew Tsuyoshi-sensei hated us, but I thought he’d at least be fucking subtle about this,” as the Yuuhi boy devolved into a cuss-filled rant against their Academy teacher, Konran turned questioningly to her other potential teammate.

“We’re both kind of assholes, really. Tsuyoshi-sensei not hating us would be more of a surprise. Though I don’t think the Academy would let them graduate a ten year old who wasn’t actually ready to graduate. Did you really pass the exam? I didn’t think students that young could take it.”

She shrugged.

“Fair enough, I guess. We’re not exactly making good first impressions. I’m Ringo, by the way. That bastard is Zakuro. You’re not named Ichigo or something like that are you? I’d hate to be known as Team Fruit,” Nohara Ringo introduced, idly waving at Yuuhi Zakuro who was now… looping multiple shuriken through a spool of ninja wire?

“Yeah. He does that. It relaxes him, apparently.”

“Okay… I’m Konran,” she returned, minimally, “And, yeah, I did actually pass the exam. I didn’t really want to take it, but my brother did. And… well… I suppose I passed and he didn’t. He’s… not very happy about it.”

“Older brother?” Ringo asked conversationally.

“No, not really. We’re twins. We were hoping to get on the same team if we both passed. I didn’t think one of us wouldn’t,” she tugged at the ends of her sleeves, she knew Naruto wouldn’t pass, so she had been careful to only answer half the questions correctly. She thought both of them would fail.

“That sucks balls,” Zakuro butted in, literally, the metal plate of his headband knocking into Ringo’s shoulder; Ringo ignored it with the air of long practice. Zakuro’s rage, apparently, burned up completely to leave behind coarse affability, “I mean, we’re all going to fail, obviously, but at least I know you got screwed over in this team arrangement as much as we did.”

She shrugged again, then shoved Zakuro’s face away when it began encroaching into her personal space. He laughed, apparently delighted.

Ringo, with a thoughtful expression, asked, “Why don’t we at least try?”

The other two looked at him curiously, silently asking for clarification.

“Well, I’ve gotten used to this jackass over the years, and you seem decent enough considering we’ve only known each other for less than ten minutes. We don’t have to just take their bullshit. If we’re going to fail, we might as well go down fighting, you know? No regrets,” he said firmly, elbow jostling his best friend beside him, eyes never leaving hers.

Zakuro laughed uproariously, simply adding, “Tsuyoshi-sensei can kiss my ass!”

They looked at her expectantly.

She sighed and agreed with a wry smile, “The Academy can go fuck itself.”

~

A/N: Apparently Team Five is also the cussing team.

Yes, more Counterpoise… hooray. I’ve named them, too. So… in my head most people graduate age 12/13, depending on when their birthdays are. Zakuro and Ringo (pomegranate and apple) just happen to be on the older end of the spectrum whereas Konran is on the younger end. So Zakuro and Ringo are in the year above Team Gai’s.

Counterpoise drabble (2015-07-24) [2]

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Jounin led teams, those slated to actually pass, are designed with specific functions in mind. For example, the Aburame, Hyuuga, and Inuzuka team are for tracking, the Ino-Shika-Chou for, essentially, guerrilla fighting against samurai and bandits. Team Seven has always been for heavy hitters, while Team Nine are for escort missions. That is not to say that some teams cannot fulfill other roles. Ino-Shika-Chou make excellent bodyguards as well, and Team Seven has always been more than just brute strength. Not that their specialties matter for much during lowly D-rank missions, anyway.

Team One is rare, hardly ever created, because Team One is designated for medics. It had been considered, a few years ago, when Yakushi-sensei’s adopted son was on the edge of graduation. But none of his classmates matched his potential for healing, and so a Team Six, general support, was created instead.

A person would think that, with a genjutsu specialist, a medic, and a fuinjutsu user, their team would be made into a a Team Six as well. But the genjutsu specialist has a fondness for traps, the medic has a talent in taijutsu, and the fuinjutsu user has a chakra reserve four times the size a ninja twice her age.

Teams are designed with a specific purpose in mind, whether they fulfill that purpose or not depends on how well they can learn. Team Five, simply known as the retrieval team, requires a little more adaptability than most teams.

—

Team Four is a throw away designation, a filler team for graduates that aren’t primed to be trained by the elite. There has never been a Team Four that passed. Which, makes sense, considering the bad luck surrounding number four. Superstition might be silly, but no need to tempt fate any further. As it is, the reputation of Team Four being a career killer is enough to ward away any inquiries.

But perhaps it would be better to say that Team Four isn’t a filler so much as it is temporary. There are records, hidden away in the darkest corners of high clearance files, that show activity under Team Four’s name. A mission here and there, never with the same team, much of it still redacted. To those in the know, Team Four is the assassination team. Team Four is an audition for ANBU.

~

A/N: Uh… so technically Counterpoise is the title for my attempt at a Naruto’s twin!SIOC fic. I don’t really want to pursue it? Or at least, not as it is. I may adapt it into a different fandom or different story. Um.. if you’re curious, though, you can look at my brainstorming lj posts here.

And, also, I was trying to figure out how team numbers work and why Team Sevens always seem to be the huge legendary guys. So, probably, Team Seven is specifically slated for heavy hitters (or, potential heavy hitters).

edit: Tweaking my headcanon for team designations (though not very much, all things considered) given the fact that baby!Itachi was put on Team Two with a boy who basically called himself Tenma Lord of Speed and a girl who, given the awful awful sexism in this series, unsurprisingly got shunted into retiring to become a waitress even though she studied medicine in the Academy?! And while she doesn’t quite match up with the new designation either, it’s better than my original that Team Two was genjutsu. Perhaps she also happened to be the fastest kunoichi and having a healer on any team certainly isn’t a downside.

Team One – Medic
Team Two – Stealth/Speed (Vanguard)
Team Three – Genjutsu/Barrier (Defense?)
Team Four – (code for ANBU trainees/assassination)
Team Five – “Retrieval”
Team Six – General Support
Team Seven – Heavy Hitter
Team Eight – Tracking/Hunting
Team Nine – Bodyguard/Escort/Courier
Team Ten – Infiltration/Siege

So basically, the Academy does actually create genin teams that the students would be well suited for if the assigned jounin sensei commits to it/sees potential/etc. Like with the idea that Dreaming of Sunshine’s Team One would have passed if they had a combat medic for a jounin-sensei (leading to mine and @kuipernebula‘s Team Medic AU. The Academy teachers probably don’t have much say in the jounin assignments, but they can do their best to bundle the genin into appealing bunches (if… that makes any sense) and hope the Hokage wrangles the jounin into place (more often than not, that’s a no)

Iron Will drabble (2015-07-24) [1]

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“You’ll have to kill me, too.”

The Fire Lord does not flinch, because leaders of nations should not flinch at the truth. But Zuko does, because he is still human and one of his friends has just laid out their own death sentence.

“I’m as much a war criminal as they. You can’t be seen favoring one side over the other.”

The will of the Fire Lord–

“The Fire Lord rules at the will of the people. If you execute Azula and Ozai then you have to execute Earth Kingdom people as well.”

The prisons are strong, they have held for nearly a decade, they can continue to do so.

“Not forever.”

Nothing is forever.

~

A/N: Tiny drabble set in Avatar The Last Airbender. I dunno, maybe it’s Jet? Maybe it’s an SIOC? I dunno.

edit: I forgot about this drabble! I suppose technically, this is an Iron Will drabble with a slightly different perspective. This is the drabble that kicked off this particular Iron Will drabble

Ignite drabble (2015-07-23)

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“Hey,” she says, warm and soft like the loaves of bread slowly rising in the oven. You press your face into her side, breathing deeply, the scent of dough and cinnamon and lemon lingering on every inhale. She smooths a hand over your head, fingertips brushing against the tips of your ears. You know you have flour in your hair now, but you don’t care.

“Hey,” she repeats, other hand rubbing between your shoulder blades soothingly, “What’s wrong, darling?” She asks.

You want to tell her. You want to. You’re seven and scared and the sun’s not out yet and you had a bad dream except you think it’s more than that something worse, something real. But you can’t. You can’t. So you just breathe and hold on to her.

Except now she’s slipping away. Or maybe it’s you that’s slipping away. It feels like you’re falling but she’s not and now as you’re ripped away from her you open your eyes but you can’t see anything. The warmth of her fades from you and your are ten now.

Ten and cold and trying not to shiver. Standing as straight and still as you can while bright lights are shining directly into your eyes. The floor is icy and hard beneath your bare feet, and you blink and squint and still see nothing.

But you can hear beeping in time with your heart which you are trying to slow down because fast means scared and you’re not scared you’re–

You’re fourteen now and you’re in a car going very very fast. The windows are closed but you think you can feel the speed ripping across your face, scenery a blur outside, as the engine roars and growls like a beast trying to claw its way into your chest.

You’re no longer scared, you’re angry. You know what happened to your mother, you know what they did to her. You know what they’ve been trying to do to you, too. It’s why you stole his car. It’s why you’re trying to run away. Except you’re only fourteen and you know how to drive but you don’t know in which direction because it’s been years since you’ve been outside, much less outside the facility.

Now there are sirens behind you, baying like hounds on the hunt. And it could be because you’re in a stolen vehicle, but it could also be because he wants his prized specimen back and the local police follow anyone’s orders. So you turn and punch it, the engine’s roar louder and louder in your ears until it cuts because you’ve stopped because you…

You are young and small and hiding in between a copse of trees. It’s no effort to be silent because you do not make any noise.

There’s a dragon.

You move closer, but not too close, less of a slither and more of a glide along the green green grass. You are curious, because you have been here for a long time, an eternity even, and you’ve seen others around–briefly, hardly for long–but none so often as this dragon.

You don’t make a sound but still it turns toward you, head narrow and pointed like an arrow, sensing you somehow.

“Hello, dear,” the dragon says, and it sounds familiar but not, and you are not scared or angry. Just curious.

“You are very young indeed, how did you get here?”

You say nothing back because you can’t say anything back, you are silent and soundless.

“Well, I’m only scheduled for an hour today, but if you like, you can hang about me for the time. No one wants to take on a dragon,” it says proudly, but does not brag, and you slither-glide closer until you are beneath one massive leathery wing.

You become known as The Dragon’s Shadow, and later, simply, Shadow.

~

A/N: Whoa… that went… somewhere. I had a completely different idea for where the first bit was going to go but then strange time-skippy dream sequence snuck up on me and then weird fantasy world? And then I realized… oh. I recognize this.

So this is the other half of an original fic trilogy I had planned but never pursued. As in, the trilogy I planned out was from the POV of one character, and this seems to be the POV (or at the very least, featuring) the other character.

I’ll be honest, it was sort of inspired by Inception (hence the title), only in that it largely features people dreaming together. This one instead is based on the premise that when everyone sleeps there’s a shared consciousness but for the most part people are small and insignificant (like butterflies, and there was a little not so subtle bit about Zhuang Zhou’s parable of “am I a man dreaming about being a butterfly or a butterfly dreaming about being a man”) except, obviously, for some exceptions.

Including The Dragon, and later, Shadow, and eventually the Main Character who… I dunno, we’ll see if I come back to this world.

Fake Fic Summaries 4/? (2015-07-22)

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1) “Due to a series of events not nearly as wacky as expected, Darcy has a legion of various superheroes and villains at her beck and call.

Or, because Darcy technically bested Thor in combat, and Thor has yet to challenge her to a rematch, he and all those he has defeated are Darcy’s thralls by right of conquest.”

Well, originally, it was going to be just Loki as basically Darcy’s disgruntled djinn-like figure. But then I had problems figuring out why it would just be Loki and not Thor or other people Thor have defeated. So then I figured, well, the situation is ludicrous enough that why should I try to minimize it to just Loki. Go all the way!

I figured it would start small. Like, for example, Darcy may just be randomly walking around outside and Loki’s doing some crazy over the top plan, but right as Darcy’s even mildly endangered–Loki, being able to teleport, appears before her and rescues her. Then bristles and runs away. And it escalates. The Doom-bots avoid her for some reason, even when she’s the easiest/best target. Etc. etc.

If someone can figure out a Loki-only variant I would love to read that, too.

—

2) “According to Nate, Hardison dies in plans C, F, and M through Q. Eliot dies in none. Parker dies in none. Sophie dies in none, though that is subject to change.

How many plans does Nate die in?”

So I was watching Leverage on Netflix, as one does. The series is lovely, but strangely not very conducive to long fic. So, short fic it is.

Anyway, in episode 4×10 “The Queen’s Gambit Job” at the end, Nate literally says that Hardison (usually) dies in seven plans. And it’s played off as comedic, but my first instinct was to flinch. Because… why Hardison and none of the others?

But then I realized, Nate didn’t say how many he died in. And, probably, it’s because he died in a lot more of them. So Hardison dying frequently is due in part because of how similar he is to Nate–for the other three, being a criminal was a matter of survival (well, I’m guessing for Sophie). But for Nate and Hardison, they became criminals because they were good at it. So their priority isn’t always to survive, it’s to make sure the plan/team survives. Hence the multiple deaths for Hardison. And Nate.

So I guess the fic would be one of those… multiple bad ending formats. Sort of like:

“Plan A fails two hours in, when Nate underestimates the mark’s proclivity for gambling. Instead of falling for Sophie’s charms, he ignores her to stay in the poker tournament.

At the close of the day, Elliot, Nate, and Sophie’s covers have all been burned. There goes plans B, D, E, and K.

Time to move on to Plan C…

Parker is wearing a dress and no harness but she has to get out now so she jumps. She falls six stories. She breaks a leg, but survives, and hobbles out of the building just as the bomb goes off. She cries, not from pain, but because Hardison was still in the server room…

Unacceptable.

Plan G–but in Plan G, Sophie gets arrested. Extradition orders get tangled up, so she languishes in maximum security prison. There is no team to break her out because Elliot is in the hospital, Parker is in the wind, Hardison has also been arrested, and Nate is dead.

Try again.”

Y’know… something like that.

~

A/N: I’m so fond of the fake fic summaries series. It allows me to express plot bunnies which I don’t really want to pursue but would take up brain space if I don’t articulate them somehow.

The Green Knight, Part 10 (2015-07-21)

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The next few weeks are somehow boring considering she’s participating in the recruitment of a secret vigilante spy agency. Well, perhaps boring isn’t the right term, more like… lackluster. She admits that most of it’s her own fault–she’s been tuning out during the verbal parts of the various lessons–part of it because, again, language barrier, but if she’s going to be honest it’s also just because she doesn’t care.

She’s not actually in the running to become a Kingsman knight, so a lot of the lectures just… don’t apply. And anyway, especially with both contacts in, Vongola can record whatever they want of her transmission and analyze it for later. There’s no audio aspect–though apparently Shouichi-kun is working on modifying Haru’s rather embarrassing cat-ear headbands into something more… discrete–but they probably have a lip-reader in Vongola… maybe. They could probably add it to Lambo’s near-infinite list of linguistic talents.

But, yeah, the talking. She let’s it fly over her head. The physical aspects are easy enough to mimic from the other candidates around her–especially with Nathaniel’s well-meaning hovering–and even if her specialties are archery and kusari-fundo, Vongola’s not going to have an assassin that doesn’t know how to use guns. Or knives. Or explosives.

The point is, it’s all stuff she doesn’t need to know or already knows, so it’s boring.

Even the sparring is kind of dull; most of the recruits are from the British military and trained in the same combat styles maybe some private training mixed in like university-level fencing or wrestling. The only exceptions being herself and Jamal, who fights better in enclosed spaces, using walls and fences like the ground just happened to be vertical, pulling in close to his opponents so they have less space to maneuver.

In contrast, she prefers distance. Which, well, made sense considering she was a mid to long range fighter. But even with hand-to-hand combat, she’s better with distance. It may sound strange considering her short reach and the fact that hand-to-hand combat implies closeness, but maybe that’s why. For her, it was either a last resort, or it was intimate.

Either an enemy had somehow made it past her other defenses and needed to be taken out immediately… or it was her and Ryohei as children, eagerly showing off what they had learned from their separate martial arts clubs, or it was her teaching Kyoko and Haru how to defend themselves, or it was her playing around with Kyoko’s trainees, helping to mould the new Vongola into one that wouldn’t need an assassin for a Guardian.

Which, probably explained why she did what she did.

“Morto,” she murmurs, just as the side of her hand touches her opponent’s neck. Then she pulls it back and darts away before his punch comes anywhere near her.

Then she goes back in, deflecting his arm with a punch to the elbow, before resting her other fist against his chest lightly. “Morto,” she says again, then retreats once more.

She continues to do this for another three taps, enraging her opponent further, until Merlin decides to put him out of his misery.

“Disengage,” he says, unnecessarily, since there’s already several yards between the two fighters.

Her opponent, near nonvocal with fury, kind of… growls in her direction. Which, considering the people she works with on a daily basis, is so nonthreatening that she can’t help the smirk.

“Peter, if you would control your temper,” Merlin admonishes before turning to her, “Azuma-san, I expected you’d have the courtesy to be serious,” he says, so stoically that she can’t help but let the smirk drop.

Then, she gets angry.

Her Dying Will Flame, much like her fellow Guardians’, was triggered by a Dying Will Bullet from Reborn’s gun. Her regret had been that she had allowed him to shoot her. Her Flames do not appear to protect, or from enthusiasm, or from confidence. They appear when she’s angry. Specifically, when she’s angry at men patronizing her.

Merlin does not get to be disappointed in her. She was holding back but she wasn’t mocking. She holds back because–“This is what happens when I’m serious,” she says, striding next to the rows of punching bags hanging in the gym. Kingsman has a very well-stocked facility, beyond top of the line equipment, made to withstand the peak human strength of their very fit knights and recruits. The heavy bags are made of the same bullet resistant fabric as their very dapper suits.

But Lightning sharpens, hardens. She is not like Lambo who has enough Flames to harden the very air into a shield. She cannot spark a series of explosions to ignite an entire room, or create entire fantastical and physical worlds in seconds. But what she can do is enough.

With Flame enhanced fingertips, she jabs in. No extra force from her hips or abdomen, just shoulder and arm and mystical internal energy. She makes it all the way through, beyond her elbow even. When she tugs her arm out, sand trickles from the gaping hole.

When the haze of angry green falls away from her vision, she sees the shocked faces of her fellow candidates. The wondering gleam in Merlin’s eyes.

“Morto,” she repeats, and smiles.

~

A/N: Back again!

Dialectic (The Eros and Psyche Remix), part 1/? (2015-07-20)

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“You can just pretend it never happened,” said Aerith, thoughtful look on her face… But he couldn’t.

What he could do, however, was push it to the back of his mind. He had other things to occupy his time and thoughts; such as preparing Radiant Garden for its grand opening.

His past experience with the delivery service was not as helpful with running Midgar’s first plant nursery as he would have hoped. There was more to gardening than throwing seeds in the dirt and hoping for the best, and with the taint of mako in soil, it was all the more difficult. Moreover, except for the few species of miraculous flowers that Aerith had in her church, nearly everything had to be imported from places beyond the city.

Thankfully, the expenses were covered by ShinRa–the next big project of the Urban Development Department. Reeve, unfortunately, had quite the black thumb and couldn’t do much but fling money and greenhouse designs at Cloud, but his enthusiasm was still obvious. In contrast, Elmyra was a great help with the hands-on aspects, having helped her daughter on occasion.

Aerith would have been the most help, but she had her plate full. Cloud still could hardly believe it: Aerith Gainsborough, Head of the Science Research Department, the position Hojo had once held and used to experiment and torture both of them. The only thing more unbelievable than that would be if Aerith were married to Rufus Shinra–which, actually, was a possibility if Aerith didn’t win their bet. She had one year to increase revenue by fifteen percent by providing an alternate energy source to mako. She certainly had her work cut out for her. If anything, the few times she was able to appear in Radiant Garden, Aerith spent most of the visit napping amongst the seedlings, soothed by their natural presence. Although, that in itself was helpful, the buds’ growth rate improved in the presence of the last Cetra.

And so for a while, distracted by concern over soil samples and seedling imports and greenhouse designs and irrigation systems and Aerith’s ongoing science rivalry/business courtship with Rufus Shinra of all people, Cloud could honestly say that as the days passed, Sephiroth never once appeared in his thoughts.

(The nights were a different matter entirely)

~

A/N: Some explanation necessary–this fic is a remix/sequel to linggan’s Dialectic which is itself an epilogue fic for their Juxtaposition series. Highly recommended reading. It’s a very beautifully concise story and doesn’t require you to remember every single little detail of FFVII in order to enjoy it. Go read it, seriously.

If you don’t want to, but are for some reason reading this, the fic basically (VERY basically) is a time travel fic in which Cloud somehow becomes Sephiroth’s secretary and accidentally and so subtly changes Sephiroth’s and Aerith’s lives that they save the world… kind of on accident. The drabble above is kind of reiterating what happens at the end of Dialectic (or the parts of the end that I don’t want to remix), and will probably do so for the next part at the least before getting into my modifications.

In a sentence: this drabble series is about the awkward antisocial romance between gardener!Cloud and baker!Sephiroth with added Aerith world-conquering shenanigans. For a more detailed (if, somewhat unreadable due to being a giant stream-of-conscious-brainstorm) outline, you can check out my lj post here.

By the way, linggan, I mean no offense by this drabble series. If you would like me to take this down, however, please let me know and I will do so immediately.

Darcy Lewis, Keyblade Wielder, parts 4&5 (2015-07-19)

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N15: Nowhere and Nothing

Her nightmares, on the rare occasions she does have them, are usually on opposite ends of the spectrum. Sometimes, they’re over-saturated with brightness and colors, flurries of movements and motions. As if all of her adventures with Mickey were sped up and enhanced within the space of one dream. In contrast, there are the nightmares that are just… nothing. An empty void where time has slowed to a crawl, no sights or sounds or warmth. Just darkness.

She wakes up gasping, skin clammy and eyes wet with unshed tears. She knows that it’s PTSD, knows that they’re just memories and remnants of justified fear–she was never in the darkness, had never lost her heart, but still the possibility hung heavy over her mind–but if she has learned nothing else, it’s that the heart and mind are powerful things.

She doesn’t tell anyone. Or rather, had never tried to again, after her parents gently, but mistakenly, dismissed her stories as an overactive imagination. And so it remains a secret.

At least, it does for fifteen years.

—

C26: Childhood

Her childhood and adolescence were always distinct in her mind. Childhood was saving the world and magic and adventure. It was traveling to other worlds and being a hero and knowing that she could make a difference. Her teenage years featured awkwardness and puberty and secrets. They were spent trying to navigate high school with a body that wouldn’t cooperate and a heart that had once fought for survival.

And yet, from an outsider point of view, one would think that it was a little backward. As a child, she had been shy and quiet, with a tendency to entertain herself than befriend others. But as a teenager, she was outgoing and gregarious, eager to interact with her community.

None of this is a lie, nor is it at all incompatible. Separate though they may be, her childhood and adolescence combined helps prepare her for adulthood.

~

A/N: Blargh, these ones are kind of… blargh. I’m reluctant to post it, but I’m already passed midnight here so 😛

In the same series as this.

Darcy Lewis, Keyblade Wielder, parts 1-3 (2015-07-18)

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The nice thing about the keyblade is that it doesn’t really exist. Technically it’s a manifestation of her heart, she can make it appear and disappear at will. Which is extremely convenient because people on this world don’t really use swords, much less swords that look like giant keys.

Except for the basic Kingdom Key which Mickey had given her, the key chain a bright silver silhouette of his basic head shape, she also has what she likes to call the Lorraine Key which is far more convenient to carry around. It’s still a blade shaped like a key, but for the most part, the Lorraine Key is less of a sword and more of a knife–small and understated.

It’s also absolutely fantastic at Wind magic, to the point where she can actually cast it on others. Which, well, she supposes makes sense considering the key chain is a pin that her grandmother gave her: a bird with an edged shield for a body, wings stretching beyond the circumference of a ring–of course it would be good at defensive Wind magic.

But other than that, she has yet to find anything that modifies her keyblade. Simple key chains won’t do it, neither do phone charms as she jokingly tried, or even other pieces of her grandmother’s jewelry (which she was grounded for a week for). She figures that there simply aren’t any other keyblade chains in the world–nothing with enough magical or emotional potential to modify something that literally comes from her heart.

By the time she turns twenty five, she’ll have another seven key chains.

—

She doesn’t use her keyblade that often, what with Mickey having locked her world against Heartless. And, to be honest, this world isn’t even all that appealing to the Darkness–the heart of this world isn’t as magically powerful as others, despite the high population.

In comparison to literal soul sucking creatures of darkness, the everyday threats of sleaze balls who won’t take no for an answer and muggers are hardly deserving of the term. She uses magic against them anyway (because she’s a big believer in the phrase use it or lose it and magic is just really cool). Mostly Thunder magic because it’s the easiest to explain away as a taser. And also, she could give Zeus a run for his money with how good she is–and she should know, she’s actually met the big guy and he said as much. (Though, to be fair, she was a little girl very far from home who had almost been kidnapped by Hades. A little white lie can be comforting.)

Over a decade later she knocks out a different God of Thunder with her magic and thinks that maybe it’s time to refresh her other skills.

—

She loves her world. Her adventure across the universe in a spaceship with a royal anthropomorphic mouse had been amazing, sure. Had been incredible and extraordinary and beyond the scope of anything else she would ever find on Earth. But that was just a jaunt–Earth is home.

Earth is messy and fragmented and near void of any cool mystical phenomena. But she loves Earth. And she doesn’t mean the physical planet (though she does believe in everyone doing their part to help the environment) but the people. The cultures and societies and governments. As a ten year old she didn’t know how to explain the idea of representational democracy much less multiple nations with different governments to a talking mouse who happened to be a king of an entire world, but she wanted to even then.

So while it’s a surprise to everyone else that she eventually chooses political science as a major, it really is just her, heh, following her heart. Sure, she’d probably breeze through the CompSci major (a field that really deserves more women in it) but hacking is a hobby for her, not a lifestyle. And even though she’s achieved space travel–something other people can only dream of–it’s as if her journey has only made her more appreciative of her own world.

But that doesn’t stop her from feeling nostalgic for her childhood adventures. And so even though she’ll always be a political scientist at, heh, heart, she signs up for an internship with the (crazy) eccentric Dr. Jane Foster. She doubts a semester of data entering in New Mexico will be anywhere near as exciting as her time with Mickey, but at least she’ll finally get those science units out of the way.

A month later she tries not to laugh hysterically at the irony while she helps evacuate the citizens of Puente Antiguo (though she’s pretty sure she could have taken the Destroyer. Just saying).

~

A/N: Apparently I am actually going to do this. Maybe? Hopefully. Anyway, I’m stuck on a bus for seven hours so I might as well. We’ll see if I come back to it at another time.

Title is subject to change.

And for those of you playing at home, yes Lorraine is the SSR agent played by Natalie Dormer in Captain America: The First Avenger who kisses (or tries to? I don’t remember how far they got) Steve.