Word Prompts (W15): Weary

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The night sky is dark, stars and moon hidden by clouds, it feels as if even the universe wants to rest tonight. As if it knew what you have been through, knows what you still need to do, and is commiserating. Or perhaps, it is turning it’s back on you–disavowing itself of you and your problems.

If only you could do the same. But would you, if you could? Would you really? For though you are tired, and rest is unavailable to you, you do not feel like giving up just yet. Not when your brothers are still alive, still breathing the soft, slow breaths of sleep. Hearts still beating the steady, hopeful beats of youth and innocence.

No, you would not.

The night air is cold, each exhale puffing out with steam, as if each breath robs you of more and more heat. But your brothers are huddle around you, curled in parentheses on either side of you. And it fits, as if the three of you are a secret, an aside in this world. Not insignificant, but intimate. Their faces are pressed into your ribs, their soft sleepy breaths warming your tired, weary heart.

It is enough, you think. This is enough. This will not be the last of such nights. You will find yourself bracketed on each side by a brother, sharing a single blanket, sharing body heat, many times after this. But this is enough. That you can have this one moment of peace, even if imagined in the still of the night. It is not the the thrill or inspiration that will move you, but this–this steady, solid peace. This will sustain you for as long as you need.

~

A/N: At my cousins’ house! I really should get back to the Word Prompts, they’re great. I miss them.

(In)Difference drabble (2015-03-12)

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She makes plans, has arrangements waiting in the wings, to leave. But she holds, because she doesn’t want to do so in the dark night, like a secret. She’s not running away, fleeing like a criminal, like prey, but it is leaving. She lets her friends know, murmurs it to them in between snippets of normal conversation. She states her intentions, because she is not going to be convinced otherwise. But there is one person whose blessing she needs, whose word would make her postpone but not completely forgo her plans.

Her eldest son is six years old, a child still, but with knives in his hands and an even more dangerous mind. Technically, with that stamped metal plate tied around his head, he’s a soldier and so an adult. But he’s just a boy, and while she knows he can do amazing things without her, she’s not just going to abandon her son.

The twins are only two, too young to fully understand, and though it breaks her heart, they may not even remember her (but their eyes gleam with that same cognizant genius that allowed her eldest to skip years ahead of the pack). Her eldest, though, he may see her leaving as betrayal, as her picking his newest baby sibling over him.

She goes down on her knees before him. Ostensibly to put them at similar eye levels, but it feels almost supplicant. They are at home, at the house so large and protected, like an empty shell; they can speak freely because no one is there to eavesdrop. She is sometimes struck with the thought that she tried to fill it with children, only to have doomed them to rattling around this prison with her.

But her eldest darling boy understands too well, has tried to do the same with pups of every breed. He listens and, after a tense silence, acquiesces. He is envious, but he knows it is too late for him and for the twins.

It is the last time they see each other for a decade.

A caravan of civilians are making their way out of Konoha, among their number is a black-haired woman breast-feeding a similarly black-haired baby. In the comfort of their own home, the gate guards are lax and as squeamish as any single man–they do not look at her closely; and anyway, two groups behind the caravan is the Sannin Tsunade, scowl on her pretty face and as frightening as ever.

The Yondaime Hokage is told that his wife and unborn child died during labor. He hasn’t seen her in three weeks, so accepts it as true.

~
A/N: Geez, why do I keep wanting to write the end of (In)Difference? This is some serious terrible marriage shit, why am I doing this to Sakumo? He’s supposed to be a nice person, right? Oh, yeah, context: in (In)Difference, OC is Kakashi’s mother and makes it so that Sakumo chooses the mission over his teammates… meaning he doesn’t commit suicide and eventually leading to him being the Yondaime right before the Third(? Second? Whichever one Kakashi is alive for) Shinobi World War.

A Year With The Moon brainstorm (2015-03-11)

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I love brainstorming. It’s one of my pitfalls as a writer because I can world-build and outline but as soon as I need to start on prose I just… can’t. It’s part of the reason why I made this blog.

Usually a stray thought just develops into a gargantuan potential plot–practically a mental storyboard of certain scenes I would want to write, certain imagery that I would want to describe. But for some reason there are a few, I guess, “prompts” that I would really like to run off and play with but just aren’t inspiring anything beyond a desire to do something with it. So what follows is literally me just rambling about the ideas, hoping that in the process I’ll shake something out.

1) A Year With The Moon – Satoshi and Satsuki
While I have sort of hinted at using this in my Naruto fanfiction, (In)Difference–as my OC’s middle children, Kakashi’s younger brother and sister respectively, I don’t actually know if that’s a route I want to go down… and even so, I haven’t developed them enough to be anything but faceless sibling stand-ins.

I’ll be honest, I’m kind of doing this for the pun. I mean, Satoshi and Satsuki? A Year With The Moon? Like… that’s totally the title of whatever I’m going to write, but I don’t actually know. Do I want it to be an (In)Difference spinoff/sequel? Do I want it to be an SI!twin!OC for the Pokemon cartoon series? I don’t really know what else to do with it… the only other Satsuki I know is Momoi Satsuki from Kuroko no Basket… and, well… unless I want to make a basketball playing Satoshi and somehow insert him into the series… but that series really is very much so Kuroko’s story… so it wouldn’t be much of a difference.

Anyway. Either (In)Difference spinoff/sequel or twin!SI!OC for Pokemon. Either way, I think the Satoshis of both would be similar, as well as the Satsukis. Hm… while I’m not too keen on the binary “one twin is this while the other is this” I do think Satoshi would be the more… average of the two. Even strictly appearance-wise, Satoshi has black hair and brown eyes. And Satoshi doesn’t have genius-level intellect, but he has heart and instincts and, apparently, aura powers? For everyday things, Satoshi is kind of hopeless or inferior to his sister–he’s not as smart or as skilled–but he works miracles under pressure.

In contrast, Satsuki is visually striking–in (In)Difference, she’d have the Hatake silver hair, but maybe it translates to something different the Pokemon universe. Or maybe it doesn’t–silver hair in young people is a real world phenomena too. Wait a second… I think I’ve written something like this before. Here it is. So maybe she does keep silver hair in the Pokemon universe too. Hm… as for her Pokemon starter… I’m thinking either a Sandshrew or a Vulpix.

Ability-wise, she is better than her brother more often than not, but it’s the kind of ability that’s… static. She doesn’t get better when there’s pressure, her skill level remains the same regardless of situation. Obviously she’s not stagnant, she grows and develops and improves, but when it comes to crises–if she’s not up to par, then she’s just not up to par. She’ll most likely still fight, of course, but she kind of accepts that she’ll fail and it’s more of a stall for time or a go out swinging sort of fight. And then her brother somehow pulls out a win from nowhere, which she’s usually okay with.

Personality, hm… this is what I’m having difficulty with, which is I guess part of the reason why this plot-bunny isn’t developing as quickly as they usually do. She’s not a strait-laced monotonous robot, she’s not just a female version of her brother. She’s more sarcastic and pessimistic but she’s still playful–she’ll tease, she’ll compete, she’ll make mistakes, she’ll be afraid. It’s just that I can’t quite think of specific scenarios to toss her in to elicit such reactions.

… I think… if I were to write this (In)Difference spinoff with the twins. It would be when they’re adults (or at least chuunin) already. Then again, considering their older brother Kakashi made chuunin at like… eight, that’s not saying much. But I’m thinking… well… they’re OC’s living in a universe after an SI!OC has already made significant changes to the Naruto universe. Whether or not they themselves are also SI!OC’s or just regular OC’s means that there are a lot of ways to present the changes. Given how (In)Difference may end, the twins get a mission (whether official or not) to find Utsugi Kiyoshi, aka Hatake Kiyoshi, aka their mother. Either their younger sister Shizuka (who their mother took away from Konoha and named Utsugi) is the client, or the twins receive a letter from their mother talking about changes or… either Nawaki or Orochimaru, whose lives Kiyoshi had changed irrevocably and who are the only two who know about her “prophecies,” are being confronted with something that they need her knowledge… or their father, Sakumo, the Yondaime realizes that his wife has been gone for a decade and he should probably make efforts to find her. Something.

So the twins try to track her down, but a lot of it is them interviewing the various people she changed and hinting at the various repercussions of her meddling. Maybe Kiyoshi has been hiding out in Rain this entire time in order to head off the Akatsuki, or is skulking around trying to find and destroy Madara… I don’t know.

(Next time on strange brainstorming ideas:

Just Harry… An HPxNarnia crossover/fusion featuring Harry the Just. Hermione the Magnificent. Ronald the Valiant. Neville the Gentle.

And Rowan(/Bromley/Branton) Evans, brother to Petunia and Lily Evans, uncle to Harry Potter. And mafioso. An HPxKHR crossover/fusion featuring the Ministry Six plus surprise Hogwarts student as the newest generation of Flame users in organized crime.)

~

A/N: I was going to do all three ideas… and it was going to be a recorded ramble. But midnight deadline so… I really am not that fond of putting my streams of consciousness brainstorming here… I usually put it on my lj, but this is what I was working on all day and I didn’t want to put nothing.

Untitled (2015-03-10)

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She is recruited into SPAN not long after being promoted from postulant to novice in the Biology Guild. She’s been at the artificer rank in both Cryptography-Coding and Security for the past few years, the former for three the latter for four. SPAN requires beings to be a part of two Guilds, they do prefer recruits to have an even wider array.

~

Approaching a target in order to achieve a desired objective is more of a science than an art. When you’re trying to get something you want, it’s best to make it a definitive transaction instead of something that can be held over your head in the future. Being desperate removes any leverage you might have had in negotiations. Instead, try making it seem like you’re doing them a favor with your desired objective being their payment.

~

This is not what you envisioned your life would be–a house-spouse to a man five years your junior, who you aren’t even technically married to, and surrogate parent to his adopted daughter who has a penchant for combining fashion and mechanics. What happened to you? What happened to that teenager who would run rampant all day long, pulling all-nighters for the hell of it, fighting with fists and words until you were free to do whatever you want?

But you realize, this is what you want. You love that goofball of a man and his eccentric daughter. You love cooking and keeping the small house in tip-top shape. You love not having every moment be full of drama and conflict, not having to carve out your place in the world with teeth and blood. You’re content, and it’s startling, but you like it.

~

A/N: None of these are related… but I couldn’t come up with a long enough cohesive drabble so… The first part is from my original fiction Triptych, the second is some lingering Burn Notice-inspired spycraft, the third is… I don’t even know.

Untitled (2015-03-09)

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“Good evening,”

“What are you doing in my house?” She all but growled, shoving the intruder against the wall, arm pressed threateningly against their throat.

“House is a bit of a stretch, don’t you think?” They murmured, without a trace of fear. And were it not said so condescendingly, she would have admitted it were true. The peeling paint, dented and pock-marked walls, and dust-stained windows–dilapidated was the first word that would come to mind.

Regardless, “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

Their eyes landed back on hers, mouth curled into a smirk. “You wouldn’t know me, but I’ve heard of you. And I’ve heard about a certain problem you have that I can help you with…”

Anger was beginning to wane, so she pulled his arm away, but irritation still remained and so beyond that she didn’t move. “What problem?”

“Why, your dead brother, of course.”

And there was the anger again. This time, her arm pressed harder, no longer just a threat but enough force to make speaking impossible, breathing difficult, and a person’s vision begin to blur.

But still no fear.

So she pulled away again, because she wanted answers more than she wanted to hurt someone. “I already caught those bastards who killed him,” It had taken months–of her mother’s frustrated tears, of her sister-in-law’s accusing eyes, of her baby niece’s unknowing fear–but she caught them.

“That’s not what I said at all. Justice doesn’t concern me, vengeance even less so.”

“So what–” Her voice choked at the possibility that remained, “What are you talking about?”

“I think you know,” They said, still as physically submissive as before but somehow more powerful, “How do you solve a problem of a dead brother?”

You bring him back to life, went unsaid by either of them.

“You’ll have to talk to my mother,” She demurred, but didn’t reject, finally backing up.

“I already did. Do you think I would be so disrespectful as to not approach the matriarch first?” They ask, as if the question–the content and the phrasing–was a matter of common sense.

She frowned, “Then why do you need to come to me?”

“If it’s going to work I’m going to need ingredients. And help.” They smiled in return, a wide sharp Cheshire grin. “You’re just number two of three.”

–

Except for the funeral, which was a whole other can of worms in and of itself, they hadn’t all been gathered in the same space since before her brother died. It would have been hard enough, considering that her sister-in-law not so quietly blamed her, without the… magician making inappropriate comments. Such as:

“Let’s not play coy, I’m a necromancer.”

and

“Luckily you didn’t cremate the body, that would have made things difficult.”

and even

“This baby will cause such marvelous deaths in the future, have you considered appointing her a magical godparent?”

Most of which went ignored.

Finally, after the bitterness festering in between the three women was at least partially resolved, partially transformed into shared wariness against the necromancer, they were able to get to business.

“Here’s how it works: he was son, brother, father. So from mother, sister, daughter I require bone, blood, and hair.”

There was shouting in response, her sister-in-law outraged at any hint of damage to the baby, but the necromancer remained unmoved until finally her mother asked for clarification.

“From mother, bone. And, I’ll let you know now–teeth are okay. You will not believe the amount of morons who cut off a finger without thinking about it. From sister, blood. From daughter, hair. I admit, the fluff isn’t much but it’s a reasonable price to pay. Don’t you think?”

“Of course not–” Her sister-in-law blustered, before being interrupted.

“I wasn’t asking you, I was asking her.” And their eyes were fixed on the baby.

“You realize she’s only eleven months old,” Her mother said slowly, less frightened and more skeptical of the necromancer.

“Mind magicks may not be the strongest in my repertoire, but even I can get a read off a baby’s emotions in the same room.” They huffed, and for the first time they expressed an emotion that wasn’t infuriating smugness.

“Second, this will only work once. If he dies again, not even I can do anything about him. And third, if I die, he dies.”

“How dare you–” She stood, the better to tower over, to intimidate.

“It is not a threat, but a fact.” They said calmly, as nonchalant as always. “What I want in return is a favor from each of you. Favor from mother, sister, daughter. And yes, baby, I get it. I’m not going to ask for a favor now, obviously.”

The three women, and one baby, were silent, pondering.

They agreed.

~

A/N: A clash of fantasy and crime fiction… detective’s brother gets killed as a “message,” and then a necromancers sweeps in to fix things… only to draw the detective further into the world of supernatural. Actually, with that kind of summary, I’m interested in continuing this ‘verse.

(En)Closure drabble (2015-03-08)

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The match ended, unsurprisingly, with the insei’s defeat. It was a decent showing on the his part, definite shodan quality, but nothing on par with a title-holder. With the status quo maintained, the world of Go pretended the event didn’t happen… for the most part. While the professionals and the press continued on with their lives, the insei were still reeling from the game–from the possibilities implied by the game.

No one honestly expected Shindou to win, of course, but the fact that he was asked to play by a title-holder made him even more notorious than his supposed rivalry with Touya Akira. It didn’t help that, after the match had concluded, Kuwabara-Honinbou had said, “Not bad, brat. If you want to play again without the Institute making a fuss like headless chickens, you let me know,” And the fact that Kuwabara’s assistant could frequently be seen around the Institute, even without the presence of said title-holder. It made rumors of a supposed apprenticeship fly.

While an apprenticeship was not on the table, the young woman was what was on Hikaru’s mind. And Sai’s. Beyond the startling, steady gaze during the game, and the brief glances since then, she hadn’t made any other moves. But they both knew she could see Sai: she was able to track the ghost’s movements, even as minimal as walking to Hikaru’s other side. It was unnerving.

But, at the same time, it was a bit of a relief when she finally walked up and introduced herself. Considering that Waya still occasionally waxed poetical over his NetGo game with sai, and would probably go off at any hint of the mystery player, it was even more of a relief that she had done it out of earshot of the other insei

“Shindou Hikaru. I’m Kuwabara Haru, medium. It’s nice to properly meet you… and your friend.”

~

A/N: Reaaaally should come up with a title for this series.

Edit: Series now called (En)Closure

(En)Closure drabble (2015-03-07)

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The day Kuwabara-Honinbou asks to play a game against an insei is a memorable one. The Institute had never experienced such a thing before, weren’t sure if they should make it an official match or not, if they should offer the Room of Profound Darkness and whether they should have reporters covering it. A title holder challenging an insei? Unimaginable!

The other professional players were ambivalent, some had thought Kuwabara had finally gone off his rocker (it took him long enough, one Ogata-Juudan could be heard muttering). After all, why else would he have a young woman shadowing his steps for the past week? Others thought it was a refreshing change of pace, perhaps the old coot was finally going to take on an apprentice. Touya-Meijin very pointedly remained silent on the matter, though Touya-Nidan had, what could only be described as, bristled when asked for his opinion.

Meanwhile, the insei practically exploded. It was one thing for one of their own to brag about being rivals with the Go Prince, Touya Akira, it was another for him to be specifically picked out by a title-holder to play a game.

And as the Go world turned into a frenzy, those at the eye of the storm were calm if a little confused and annoyed.

As the Institute finally gets their act together, deciding not to offer the Room of Profound Darkness but still providing a venue. The goban is set on a slightly raised stage, cameras set up to project the game onto a screen so the small audience of professionals, insei, and reporters can see without crowding the two players. On the stage are the stars of the event, Kuwabara-Honinbou and Shindou Hikaru, and one other person much to the consternation of the others gathered. She has the best vantage point, and yet spends the entire match staring at empty air behind the insei. Those who are there for the go game try to ignore the third person on the stage.

For Shindou Hikaru, the day Kuwabara-Honinbou asks to play a game against him is a memorable one, too, but for a different reason. Because he finally meets someone else who can see Sai, the effortlessly ignored fourth person on the stage.

~

A/N: I should probably come up with a title for this, at least for organization purposes. But yes! More of the Haru Kuwabara, onmyouji/medium, universe.

Edit: Now called (En)Closure

Externality drabble (2015-03-06)

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When it comes to cover identities, sometimes less information is more. While creating full-proof backstories might seem like a good idea, it’s usually leads to contradicting details which ultimately give you away. Instead, just don’t say anything. People will make assumptions, and it’s better to be vaguely incorrect than specifically. Also people acknowledge that it’s natural to have secrets, they may not like it but they’ll accept it.

–

It’s about thirty minutes before the official end of the survival part of the exam that she realizes she needs a jounin-sensei in order to keep her cover as a genin. And not just any jounin-sensei, a Kumo jounin.

It’s widely known that jounin, no matter the country, are the elite, practically deities in comparison to chuunin. But it’s also acknowledged that they are batshit insane. Even the most mild of jounin would be considered quirky; eccentricity seems to be part and parcel for strength.

But Kumo ninja are known for their… boldness. All Kumo ninja have a certain confidence and swagger, regardless of ability. But while usually it’s all hot air, their jounin actually have the skills to back up their ego. It’s a little frightening, but more frustrating, to be honest.

And suddenly, she knows exactly what to do.

She pops another soldier pill, replenishes her chakra supply, and gets to work making another kata kage bunshin. Luckily, her bunshin teammates are taijutsu specialists, so they still have enough chakra to keep themselves running, but the person she has in mind for her jounin sensei requires more. He has to give the feeling of a jounin level strength, even if she doesn’t have the skills to back it up–he’s got to be able to fake it or at least intimidate people enough not to risk checking.

The bunshin she makes is like obsidian, everything about him is dark and sharp, beautiful but dangerous. In comparison to Kakashi-sensei who looks like he just woke up from a nap, mussed hair and clothes; her bunshin sensei’s uniform sits neatly on his shoulders, the creases picture perfect, his hair  spikes angled to make his silhouette all the more intimidating.

He’s perfect. Annoyingly so, which means she can’t help but scowl when Anko-senpai’s reaction to his flirting is to blush outrageously.

~

A/N: Ugh, I would like to write other stuff already… go away bunny, go away. Again, Externality is a spinoff/sequel to Trailblazers. Meaning that the jounin sensei she made is supposedly Reborn.

Externality drabble (2015-03-05)

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There are times when a operation develops into something larger and more complex than what you expected when you first began. The key is not to panic. Panicking will not only blow your cover, it’ll waste time and you may end up missing valuable opportunities. Such as strengthening your cover, or even turning a potential enemy into an ally.

–

She knows she literally did this to herself, but she’s glad that this hell of a week is almost over. At least, she’s glad until her emergency radio, which had been silent for the past four days, suddenly bursts into noise and activity. Considering the only person who is supposed to be on her frequency is Anko-senpai, the fact that it’s very distinctly not her voice is worrying. That it’s ANBU, who are taught covert sign language to minimize the need for talking, is even more worrying. And that’s not even including what’s being said.

Orochimaru is back in Konoha? Fucking shit.

She can’t contribute much, not with ANBU already on the case. And to be honest? She doesn’t really want to–she’s a chuunin, she doesn’t stand a chance against an S-class nin, much less that particular S-class nin. So it’s for the best that she’s told to continue with her current orders. Patrolling around the tower in Taining Ground 44 to bully teams of genin isn’t exactly at the top of her favorite activities, but in comparison to that clusterfuck? It’s practically a picnic.

So she contentedly, if not cheerily, proceeds to do the same thing she’s been doing for the past four days. She picks off a Kusa team and one of the weaker Konoha teams, trying hard not to be smug at how they’re older than she is, and takes their scrolls and most of their supplies. A Heaven from the Kusa team and an Earth from the Konoha team, giving her a total of three of the former and four of the latter. Considering she wasn’t actually given either kind of scroll, not being a true participant of the exams, she thinks she should be proud. Sure, they’re genin and she’s a chuunin. But if three chuunin-hopefuls can’t handle a single chuunin (and, okay, her two kage bunshin “teammates”) then do they really deserve to be chuunin? No.

After that, she sees an unconscious team of idiots who opened their scroll outside the tower, tags them for pick up, and again steals most of their supplies. It’s not like she needs it–Anko-senpai has occasionally bringing her meals and equipment, and she’s not sure what she’s going to do with 57 extra kunai, 34 extra shuriken, and 12 senbon (especially since one of her favorite moves from her repertoire is to electromagnetically fling all metal objects away from herself)–but it’s fun. And a passive aggressive way of taking out her frustration at her self-imposed situation on morons who can’t follow simple instructions.

It’s eighteen hours after the initial radio chatter on the Orochimaru situation, five of those which were spent sleeping (luckily her bunshin “teammates” don’t have to sleep), when Anko-senpai comes to see her in person. And it’s not good. Of course she knows that Anko-senpai has terrible history with Orochimaru, having been his apprentice and first guinea pig (or at least, first successful guinea pig), but she can hardly imagine what this must feel like for her. Beyond fucking terrible, that is. But what makes her wary is that Anko-senpai doesn’t look mad, she looks kind of apologetic.

And then, of course she gets told that her one week Kumo genin cover has to be extended for another month until the finals. It’s already the fifth day, which means, if she wants to pass like all the actual genin exam takers are doing, then she has to get into the tower today. She has more than enough scrolls, that isn’t the problem, but it’ll weird to explain to the genin she let through on why she decided to suffer for an additional four days outside the tower when she could’ve “passed” on the first day.

Luckily, Kumo has a reputation for being over the top and scorning the “bloated weakness of Leaf trash,” she says with a smirk as her bunshin teammates reveal all eight of her scrolls. One of her bunshin tacks on that herbivores deserve to be bitten to death, and the Inuzuka practically bristles at that. She’s secretly enjoying how the Konoha nin scowl at the words–Anko-senpai’s sadistic tendencies must be rubbing off on her.

But what’s most interesting is how the Suna kunoichi approaches her. Considering the Konoha-Suna alliance, and Konoha’s not-so-secret cold war with Kumo the Suna kunoichi–especially the Kazekage’s daughter–should know better than to make such a political misstep. It could just be an overture of friendship between the two kunoichi participants who don’t act like they’re on a team merely to fill a gender quota. Time will tell. She’s got another month to figure it out.

~

A/N: Another Externality drabble! Uh… so… it’s a double SI!OC, in that Externality is sort of the sequel/spin-off of Trailblazers. So Tetsuki originally is an OC from a KHR fic, who becomes the Lightning Guardian instead of Lambo, eventually dies and is reborn (hahaha) into the Naruto world. But Naruto is a manga in the KHR world so she knows what’s going on a little.

Uh, her “specialty” is to “create” incredibly complex “cover identities” which is actually just her friends/fellow Guardians from the KHR world. And she may have learned how to do kage bunshin from Naruto (though she can only do three max).

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Untitled (2015-03-04)

In the world of espionage and assassination, being tall is not all what it’s cracked up to be. Sure, with longer limbs come superior reach and leverage, but your center of gravity is further from the ground, making it easier to knock you down and keep you there.

Outside of fights, which don’t occur as often as fiction would have you believe, extra height is not necessarily a benefit. An implicit intimidation factor can help in some cases, but in others it can be a disadvantage. If you need to, for example, walk away unnoticed from an explosion you’ve caused? Being tall is a hindrance.

If you’re six feet five inches, you’re at least half a foot taller than the average person in a crowd. Meaning you can’t exactly disappear when you’re sticking out like a sore thumb. Moreover, if you are that tall and have the muscles of a professional athlete without the clout of being one, the authorities likely aren’t going to believe you’re some innocent bystander. Especially with all that soot and debris on you.

In contrast, if you’re, let’s say, five foot three, then getting away is easy. When the top of your head is below the eye level of the people searching for you, it makes hiding effortless. In the unlikely event that they do pull you aside for questioning, there’s a greater chance they’ll believe you when you stutter out that you don’t know what happened. Add in some trembling and crying, and they’ll apologize to you for the traumatic experience.

–

If you’re shooting at an enemy, don’t aim for their head. While usually that means an instant kill, no matter how sharp a shooter you are, it’s very easy for them to dodge. Ducking is as simple as letting gravity pull you down.

Instead, shoot at their core–stomach, waist, chest. Ducking isn’t going to help them, and unless you’re shooting at an Olympic high jumper going the opposite direction isn’t going to help them either. Stepping to either side relies on them being able to predict the trajectory of a bullet going two thousand feet per second. It’s just not going to happen. So shooting at your enemy’s torso is best: not only is it harder for you to miss, you have a wide variety of vital organs to hit.

–

Youth is a double-edged sword. Correction, assumed youth is a double-edged sword. If you’re blessed with youthful features or even excellent makeup abilities, it’s easy to appear as an indistinct teenager. Unless you present yourself as a surly delinquent, or you’re surrounded by irrational morons, a teenager isn’t going to be held culpable for crimes more serious than shoplifting, graffiti, or terrible driving.

Of course, by disavowing any responsibility, there’s the risk of being pulled under the wing of some well-meaning authority figure. You can’t exactly break your cover, because that will put you back on the suspect list, which means you’ll just have to stick to your lies and wait for the opportunity to ditch the mother hen.

~

When you’re going undercover, everything about you has to match your backstory. Your clothes, your hair, your movements. That being said, make sure you use a backstory that you can take on without much effort. Even the best actors have trouble staying in character when they’re surprised or in pain, and those tend to be the moments when you need it the most.

The most common mistake is having an accent one moment, then losing it the next as you cry out in pain. Accents also tend to be the easiest to bust as fake–not remembering a supposed common acquaintance can be chalked up to faulty memory, but if you fluctuate between a Bostonian accent and a Jersey accent then people will know something is up.

Instead, consider changing your speech patterns: if you’re normally a concise and eloquent speaker, then mumbling and sprinkling in a few ums, and you knows, and I guesses, reinforces a cover more than a fake Louisiana drawl. To a listener, accents come from specific locations that can be tested and those tests possibly failed. Speech patterns, on the other hand, reflect a thought process, which gives you some leeway in your actions. It also means any changes in how you speak when under duress is attributed to the situation instead of inconsistent acting abilities.

~

A/N: I’ve been marathoning Burn Notice on Netflix… and to be honest I’m kind of ambivalent to it. Obviously I like it, otherwise I wouldn’t have gotten to season 5 (and counting), but it’s not really something that I’d make a fuss over. The writing is both good and inane–the overarching plot is almost as ludicrously complex as a soap opera’s and practically nothing is a surprise. But it’s well delivered inanity.

I wouldn’t say it’s Burn Notice fanfiction, but I liked the idea of a (somewhat condescending) badass trying to teach the ways of badassery to someone else, namely the reader. Maybe I’ll re-appropriate it into one of my already existing fanfic ideas (if I ever get around to actually writing a multi-chaptered story)–it’d work well in Naruto or Katekyo Hitman Reborn… or the Turk side of FFVII.

Also, I can’t guarantee the validity of my “advice” which is why I’m putting it in the original fiction tag. FICTION. Please don’t actually shoot anyone… or cause any explosions… thank you.