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tenshinoakuma) wrote2013-11-18 02:39 pm
tenshinoakuma) wrote2013-11-18 02:39 pm
[ShortFics]
A couple of shortfics I wrote at the request of people from Plurk. Quality may include intentionally bad fiction. oops guess i didn't write badfic after all
Research and Destroy aka actual puppy Rytlock Brimstone
"All right, but I'm coming with you."
Centurion Serph Flamestrike stares at Tribune Brimstone for a long moment. Isn't he supposed to be at the Black Citadel? For that matter, isn't the Durmond Priory supposed to be handling this with the aid of the Vigil and the Order of Whispers? Why is the Blood Legion Tribune even stepping in here--
"--but if the centurion has no objections, we'll move out."
Unfortunately, he can't think of reason to object. Or rather, he can't think of a reason that the Tribune will accept that won't result in repercussions. One way or another, the Blood Legion Tribune gets his way. Serph's no Ash soldier, good at redirecting Tribune Brimstone's attention. Reluctant, Serph says, "No objections, sir."
And with that, Serph leads the way into the swamp full of risen, the Tribune, Scholar Scribepaw and his warband in tow, mud squelching unpleasantly under his feet. They're here for Howl and his amulet. Get in, get the job done, get out. No distractions. The longer they take, the more risen they'll have to deal with. That's the plan.
It's only when their small party are caught up in a small skirmish with a group of risen that Serph notices that the Tribune is missing. Once the risen are a smoking pile of flames around his feet, Serph barks, "Do any of you see the Tribune?"
It's Scribepaw who points him out, the Tribune cheerfully cutting a swathe through risen humans and thralls, flaming sword unmistakeable in the gloom of the swamp. By the time Serph catches up to him, Tribune Brimstone has already finished with the group of risen and is about to run off towards another band of risen.
"Tribune!" Serph bellows.
Tribune Brimstone shoots him a wide grin, showing off every one of his teeth. "Ha! Did you see that? These risen guys, much more satisfying than hitting a bunch of training dummies, don't you think?"
Did you join us just as an excuse to get into a fight? Serph keeps his thought to himself, saying aloud, "Tribune, we don't have time for detours. The situation becomes more dangerous the longer we wait."
Tribune Brimstone doesn't apologise, but him rejoining the formation is about as close to one as Serph expects. With the Tribune rejoining the party, Serph leads them back to where they had been before the Tribune had been distracted. Thankfully, they manage to cover an appreciative distance without encountering more than a single risen. Unfortunately, that luck runs out when he spots an impressive group of risen blocking their path. It seems wise to avoid them, but just in case...
Serph turns his head to issue orders to the party.
"Tribune--"
...Where is he?!
Serph whips his head about, looking for the misplaced Tribune, absentmindedly cutting the head off of a risen thrall about to grab him. Scanning the nearby scenery wildly, he only manages to track down Tribune Brimstone thanks to his flaming sword and loud whooping as he cuts down the risen abominations surrounding him.
Tribune Brimstone doesn't even try to look like he's paying attention to Serph's lecture.
Serph just sighs inwardly, and keeps the party moving, ignoring the way the swamp mud sucks at his feet and sticks between his toes, slowing his progress deeper into it. But he can see a faint blue glow off in the distance. They're close. He turns his head to check on the state of their party.
...
......
Serph glares balefully at the very empty space in their formation where Tribune Brimstone should be. He turns to face the front, hiding the annoyed growl that curls his lips. "Keep pushing forward!"
As far as Serph's concerned, he is not Blood Legion Tribune Rytlock Brimstone's baby sitter.
Cousins
It had been a mistake.
A small slip of the tongue.
"You have a cousin?"
Edgeworth does not like the sly look that spreads across Joshua's face. He folds his arms and glares at the chessboard, as if willing a piece to move so that it's his turn again. But it seems like Joshua has abandoned the game for his other favourite pasttime: harassing Edgeworth. "I do," he says curtly.
Joshua leans an elbow on the table and grins. "So~ Do I get to meet this mysterious cousin of yours?"
Edgeworth glares at Joshua. Elbows off the table. "Are you going to make your move?"
Joshua dangles the bishop between his fingers, taunting. "Maybe I will if you tell me about your beloved cousin you failed to mention to your dear chess partner."
Edgeworth resists the urge to wring Joshua's neck. This is probably one of the most interesting chess games they've had in recent memory. Joshua has always been a tricky player, his games often very difficult to read. He'll never admit it aloud, but it's always been something of a personal achievement to outwit this brat. A very satisfying personal achievement that even Joshua's snide comments afterwards can't ruin.
This time, Edgeworth has been able to read him, managing to avoid several of the traps Joshua had set up across the board, cornering Joshua's pieces with the powerful advance of his rooks. He wants to see if Joshua has some kind of cunning plan to get out of this situation. The fact he's this close to winning is the only reason he hasn't left this game already; his pride won't allow him to walk from a battle he can win.
Tea. He needs tea.
It seems that whenever he's in Joshua's presence, he finds himself reaching for the teapot more frequently than usual.
"He's intelligent. Hardworking. Strange taste in food. Occasionally infuriating."
Joshua grins at Edgeworth's purposefully less than helpful description. "My, a man after my own heart!"
Somehow, Edgeworth doubts Joshua's done a day's worth of honest work in his life. And don't you already have a boyfriend?
Finally, Joshua makes his move, placing his bishop on an empty space beside one of Edgeworth's pawns. "You're not going to offer his name? Journal ID? That's the kind of thing you'd do for friends, you know."
"No." Absolutely not. "You will just have to find out for yourself," Edgeworth replied shortly, capturing Joshua's knight with his own. That kind of information seems dangerous in the hands of Joshua. "Check." He shudders to think what the two of them working together will result in.
Disasters, probably.
He, unfortunately, is not wrong.
Flowers
Serph stares blankly at the petals littered on the bed. Beautiful, luscious red petals scattered over the covers of Angelo's bed. There... are a lot of petals. And not just on the bed, all over the floor, too, almost a sea of them. Serph suspects he's supposed to feel... something... about this display, but all he feels is sadness. How many roses had it taken to make this?
Angelo comes up behind Serph and wraps his arms around his waist. "Do you like it?"
Serph doesn't want to belittle Angelo's efforts, but the truth is, he doesn't like it. When Serph doesn't reply, Angelo tightens his grip around Serph's waist and kisses Serph's neck.
"Do you want to move somewhere more horizontal?" Already Angelo is tugging him towards the bed, but Serph doesn't follow. That makes a frown crease Angelo's brow, as he turns to face Serph. "What's wrong?"
Turning to walk back out, Serph says, "I prefer the couch."
There's a pause, before Angelo follows.
Later, satisfied, Angelo runs a hand over Serph's chest and asks Serph, voice quiet, "Do the petals bother you?"
Serph rests a hand over Angelo's. "There's no need to kill unecessarily to show affection."
Angelo gives him a bewildered look. "They're just flowers!"
Serph stays silent.
A week later, Angelo eagerly pulls Serph into his room, excitement practically emitting from him. "Do you like it?"
Serph stops and stares. Climbing roses entwine the trellis arching over over the bed's headboard, red and orange petals having gently fallen from the open flowers. Sure, there aren't as many petals as before, but these are petals that have fallen naturally from the blooming flowers.
He turns and gives Angelo a small smile. "Let me show my appreciation."
Cat Problems
It's not that Joshua doesn't like cats; cats are rather enchanting creatures.
No, cats are fine.
He just doesn't like this one particular cat.
Joshua glares balefully at the orange and white cat sitting on his journal, licking her paws. He knows that trying to get at his journal with his hand is just going to end up in scratches. He can use his telekinetic powers, but... it seems like such a silly thing to use them for. Then again, he's used them for lesser reasons.
Fobbie the cat deftly jumps from her perch onto Joshua's chair before he can upend her onto the floor. Joshua catches his journal. Wonderful. Now instead of his hands getting scratched up, he's in danger of his butt getting scratched. His day just keeps getting better.
Joshua can see it now. If he shakes Fobbie off the chair, she's just going to jump back on it the moment the chair reaches the ground again. He's not going to play a game he has no chance of winning. Well, maybe he hadn't wanted to sit in his chair anyway.
With a flick of his hair, Joshua walks out the room, leaving Fobbie to purr her victory.
Joshua's feeling pretty good. Successful dinner date, check. Ness in an affectionate mood, check. Detour to their room, check.
Unfortunately, Joshua had failed to check for certain cats using beds as her nesting spot.
Joshua thinks it's safe to leave his pants out before he has to iron them.
The next time he sees them, they're furry pants.
Joshua had left his luggage unbuckled for one moment.
NOPE now it's cat luggage.
Joshua learns very quickly to be properly paranoid.
"What's wrong?" Ness looks up at him with those big, innocent eyes.
Joshua blinks a few times. He'd almost expected the furry terror to make her presence unpleasantly known. He shakes his head and laughs. "It's nothing." Grinning, he continues in a low voice, "Let's enjoy our honeymoon, shall we?"
On the windowsill, Fobbie lazily licks her paws.
Research and Destroy aka actual puppy Rytlock Brimstone
"All right, but I'm coming with you."
Centurion Serph Flamestrike stares at Tribune Brimstone for a long moment. Isn't he supposed to be at the Black Citadel? For that matter, isn't the Durmond Priory supposed to be handling this with the aid of the Vigil and the Order of Whispers? Why is the Blood Legion Tribune even stepping in here--
"--but if the centurion has no objections, we'll move out."
Unfortunately, he can't think of reason to object. Or rather, he can't think of a reason that the Tribune will accept that won't result in repercussions. One way or another, the Blood Legion Tribune gets his way. Serph's no Ash soldier, good at redirecting Tribune Brimstone's attention. Reluctant, Serph says, "No objections, sir."
And with that, Serph leads the way into the swamp full of risen, the Tribune, Scholar Scribepaw and his warband in tow, mud squelching unpleasantly under his feet. They're here for Howl and his amulet. Get in, get the job done, get out. No distractions. The longer they take, the more risen they'll have to deal with. That's the plan.
It's only when their small party are caught up in a small skirmish with a group of risen that Serph notices that the Tribune is missing. Once the risen are a smoking pile of flames around his feet, Serph barks, "Do any of you see the Tribune?"
It's Scribepaw who points him out, the Tribune cheerfully cutting a swathe through risen humans and thralls, flaming sword unmistakeable in the gloom of the swamp. By the time Serph catches up to him, Tribune Brimstone has already finished with the group of risen and is about to run off towards another band of risen.
"Tribune!" Serph bellows.
Tribune Brimstone shoots him a wide grin, showing off every one of his teeth. "Ha! Did you see that? These risen guys, much more satisfying than hitting a bunch of training dummies, don't you think?"
Did you join us just as an excuse to get into a fight? Serph keeps his thought to himself, saying aloud, "Tribune, we don't have time for detours. The situation becomes more dangerous the longer we wait."
Tribune Brimstone doesn't apologise, but him rejoining the formation is about as close to one as Serph expects. With the Tribune rejoining the party, Serph leads them back to where they had been before the Tribune had been distracted. Thankfully, they manage to cover an appreciative distance without encountering more than a single risen. Unfortunately, that luck runs out when he spots an impressive group of risen blocking their path. It seems wise to avoid them, but just in case...
Serph turns his head to issue orders to the party.
"Tribune--"
...Where is he?!
Serph whips his head about, looking for the misplaced Tribune, absentmindedly cutting the head off of a risen thrall about to grab him. Scanning the nearby scenery wildly, he only manages to track down Tribune Brimstone thanks to his flaming sword and loud whooping as he cuts down the risen abominations surrounding him.
Tribune Brimstone doesn't even try to look like he's paying attention to Serph's lecture.
Serph just sighs inwardly, and keeps the party moving, ignoring the way the swamp mud sucks at his feet and sticks between his toes, slowing his progress deeper into it. But he can see a faint blue glow off in the distance. They're close. He turns his head to check on the state of their party.
...
......
Serph glares balefully at the very empty space in their formation where Tribune Brimstone should be. He turns to face the front, hiding the annoyed growl that curls his lips. "Keep pushing forward!"
As far as Serph's concerned, he is not Blood Legion Tribune Rytlock Brimstone's baby sitter.
Cousins
It had been a mistake.
A small slip of the tongue.
"You have a cousin?"
Edgeworth does not like the sly look that spreads across Joshua's face. He folds his arms and glares at the chessboard, as if willing a piece to move so that it's his turn again. But it seems like Joshua has abandoned the game for his other favourite pasttime: harassing Edgeworth. "I do," he says curtly.
Joshua leans an elbow on the table and grins. "So~ Do I get to meet this mysterious cousin of yours?"
Edgeworth glares at Joshua. Elbows off the table. "Are you going to make your move?"
Joshua dangles the bishop between his fingers, taunting. "Maybe I will if you tell me about your beloved cousin you failed to mention to your dear chess partner."
Edgeworth resists the urge to wring Joshua's neck. This is probably one of the most interesting chess games they've had in recent memory. Joshua has always been a tricky player, his games often very difficult to read. He'll never admit it aloud, but it's always been something of a personal achievement to outwit this brat. A very satisfying personal achievement that even Joshua's snide comments afterwards can't ruin.
This time, Edgeworth has been able to read him, managing to avoid several of the traps Joshua had set up across the board, cornering Joshua's pieces with the powerful advance of his rooks. He wants to see if Joshua has some kind of cunning plan to get out of this situation. The fact he's this close to winning is the only reason he hasn't left this game already; his pride won't allow him to walk from a battle he can win.
Tea. He needs tea.
It seems that whenever he's in Joshua's presence, he finds himself reaching for the teapot more frequently than usual.
"He's intelligent. Hardworking. Strange taste in food. Occasionally infuriating."
Joshua grins at Edgeworth's purposefully less than helpful description. "My, a man after my own heart!"
Somehow, Edgeworth doubts Joshua's done a day's worth of honest work in his life. And don't you already have a boyfriend?
Finally, Joshua makes his move, placing his bishop on an empty space beside one of Edgeworth's pawns. "You're not going to offer his name? Journal ID? That's the kind of thing you'd do for friends, you know."
"No." Absolutely not. "You will just have to find out for yourself," Edgeworth replied shortly, capturing Joshua's knight with his own. That kind of information seems dangerous in the hands of Joshua. "Check." He shudders to think what the two of them working together will result in.
Disasters, probably.
He, unfortunately, is not wrong.
Flowers
Serph stares blankly at the petals littered on the bed. Beautiful, luscious red petals scattered over the covers of Angelo's bed. There... are a lot of petals. And not just on the bed, all over the floor, too, almost a sea of them. Serph suspects he's supposed to feel... something... about this display, but all he feels is sadness. How many roses had it taken to make this?
Angelo comes up behind Serph and wraps his arms around his waist. "Do you like it?"
Serph doesn't want to belittle Angelo's efforts, but the truth is, he doesn't like it. When Serph doesn't reply, Angelo tightens his grip around Serph's waist and kisses Serph's neck.
"Do you want to move somewhere more horizontal?" Already Angelo is tugging him towards the bed, but Serph doesn't follow. That makes a frown crease Angelo's brow, as he turns to face Serph. "What's wrong?"
Turning to walk back out, Serph says, "I prefer the couch."
There's a pause, before Angelo follows.
Later, satisfied, Angelo runs a hand over Serph's chest and asks Serph, voice quiet, "Do the petals bother you?"
Serph rests a hand over Angelo's. "There's no need to kill unecessarily to show affection."
Angelo gives him a bewildered look. "They're just flowers!"
Serph stays silent.
A week later, Angelo eagerly pulls Serph into his room, excitement practically emitting from him. "Do you like it?"
Serph stops and stares. Climbing roses entwine the trellis arching over over the bed's headboard, red and orange petals having gently fallen from the open flowers. Sure, there aren't as many petals as before, but these are petals that have fallen naturally from the blooming flowers.
He turns and gives Angelo a small smile. "Let me show my appreciation."
Cat Problems
It's not that Joshua doesn't like cats; cats are rather enchanting creatures.
No, cats are fine.
He just doesn't like this one particular cat.
Joshua glares balefully at the orange and white cat sitting on his journal, licking her paws. He knows that trying to get at his journal with his hand is just going to end up in scratches. He can use his telekinetic powers, but... it seems like such a silly thing to use them for. Then again, he's used them for lesser reasons.
Fobbie the cat deftly jumps from her perch onto Joshua's chair before he can upend her onto the floor. Joshua catches his journal. Wonderful. Now instead of his hands getting scratched up, he's in danger of his butt getting scratched. His day just keeps getting better.
Joshua can see it now. If he shakes Fobbie off the chair, she's just going to jump back on it the moment the chair reaches the ground again. He's not going to play a game he has no chance of winning. Well, maybe he hadn't wanted to sit in his chair anyway.
With a flick of his hair, Joshua walks out the room, leaving Fobbie to purr her victory.
Joshua's feeling pretty good. Successful dinner date, check. Ness in an affectionate mood, check. Detour to their room, check.
Unfortunately, Joshua had failed to check for certain cats using beds as her nesting spot.
Joshua thinks it's safe to leave his pants out before he has to iron them.
The next time he sees them, they're furry pants.
Joshua had left his luggage unbuckled for one moment.
NOPE now it's cat luggage.
Joshua learns very quickly to be properly paranoid.
"What's wrong?" Ness looks up at him with those big, innocent eyes.
Joshua blinks a few times. He'd almost expected the furry terror to make her presence unpleasantly known. He shakes his head and laughs. "It's nothing." Grinning, he continues in a low voice, "Let's enjoy our honeymoon, shall we?"
On the windowsill, Fobbie lazily licks her paws.