timesrunning

Knowing the Way

2010-04-25T15:46:27Z

Title: Knowing the Way
Fandom(s): Death Note and Revolutionary Girl Utena
Characters: L and Souji Mikage
Word Count: 1327
Summary: A belated birthday gift for Neva (happy belated dear)! A closer is brought in for a case of serial arson. What does the world's greatest detective make of such a man?
Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to either of the characters or the series that they come from. This story is for entertainment purposes only, and I make no profit from it. Without any further ado I give you
L was 98.6% certain that the man they had captured was the serial arsonist whose fires had done millions in property damage and claimed at least sixteen lives. However, the man was intelligent, in his own way. He was silent, refusing to talk, and even with his lawyer he was reserved. While the investigative squad had evidence that the man had bought the materials to start fires like the one that had been burning in this country, there was any number of possible explanations for why the man had bought them. He had been in the general area of the fires when they had begun, but this too could also be easily explained away. As much as L hated to admit it to himself, they needed to call in an expert, an interrogator to be more specific.

Normally L would not have even thought about stooping so far. Normally, any of the methods that he had used in the past would have broken almost anyone. Few were the sort of people who could withstand the extreme form of isolation that L subjected people to. This alleged arsonist seemed to have no issue with silence and loneliness. There was just not breaking him, at least not by the conventional methods. With time running out to make the conviction, L was desperate. Watari was desperately going through every possible interrogator within three hours of travel when a single name appears that struck L’s interest. What it was about the name that made L decide on the man, he was never able to logically explain afterwards (something that he never admitted to anyone). All L knew was that this name was the one to break the potential arsonist.

A phone call and forty minutes later, the man entered. The men of the investigative squad whisper about the way that the man carried himself and his unusually colored hair. Other whispers were centered on the almost school-boy style uniform he wore. Still more whispers briefly circulated about the silver ring on his finger and its possible implications. He either did not hear them, or care what they said. Rather he walked over to where L was (who was at the moment sitting crouched with a mug of rapidly cooling hot cocoa in his left hand) and bowed simply. From behind simple wire framed glasses, a pair of eyes of an ambiguous color and all too calculating looked out.

“A pleasure to meet you L-san, you may call me Mikage Souji,” the man introduced himself. Something in his tone made L 96% sure that name the man had given was not his real name, but then again, L should hardly be one to judge on the use of a soubriquet. “Will you be kind enough to fill me on the details of the case?” Mikage asked, breaking L out of one of the many silent meditations that the detective was prone to engage in. In his usual dry tone, L informed the pink haired man who simply nodded, listening intensely (or at least that was what L guessed what he was doing). Thanking him, Mikage left and went into the interview room. The entire squad sat to watch the closer the world’s greatest detective had brought in. L watched on a small television monitor, hot cocoa forgotten in favor of a raspberry tart.

In setting up the interrogation room, there was a certain methodology in what must have seemed otherwise madness. Mikage had dimmed the lights and took out a single picture, what looked to be a sort of insect chrysalis. He then gave the small nod indicating both the suspect and lawyer were to be brought in. From the instant the suspected felon entered the room, Mikage’s eyes did not leave his. The interrogator’s voice was low and even, and each word was calculated. It was obvious that both parties invited were at least initially slightly ill at ease with the interrogator, however by the time he had finished explaining the suspect’s rights, the mood in the small room evidently lifted.

“Alright, let’s begin,” Mikage intoned, and it was if with those syllables that the invisible gag around the suspect’s mouth was removed. Mikage didn’t say anything; rather he just sat passively, his eyes always locked with the suspect. At first, the man’s ramblings were the basic complaints about housing, his car, and things of that nature. At the appropriate intervals, Mikage would make small remarks; ask questions, but nothing that would drive anyone to confession. Halfway finished with the raspberry tart, L wondered if he had chosen the right closer for the job. Then, out of nowhere there was a single penetrating question when the suspect had been talking about Christmas as a child, sitting at a fireplace.

“The fire always spoke to you, didn’t it?” the question was gentle, not really asking for a verbal response. However a verbal response began to pour out of the suspect. Soon, the man was talking about the how the world couldn’t understand, no wouldn’t understand the way he felt about fire. The lawyer’s face blanched white and as he began to move into silence his client. Mikage shot the lawyer a quick glare and with the icy calm that had been the defining tone for most of his interview was lost. Instead it was now a tone of command, something to be obeyed. “It is obvious that he wants to tell me more,” he intoned to the lawyer. Then turning back to the suspect, there was a moment of perfect silence.

“Deeper, go deeper,” Mikage almost whispered. The lights in the small interview room flickered, and for a moment the picture of the insect chrysalis that hung on the wall seemed as if it had shifted position ever so slightly, like the room was descending. As the suspect began ranting, his anger coursing out of him, blame falling on everything with myriad details about how it deserved to burn, L almost dropped his fork. The descriptions continued for close to five minutes. At the end of the time, the man was shaking, confession given willingly, and Mikage stood, offered a short bow to the arsonist and the lawyer. As the interrogator walked past the astonished investigative squad, L followed him with his eyes.

“Dr. Mikage,” L began.

“You’re going to ask me how I did it, aren’t you?” Mikage responded without looking over his shoulder at the dark haired detective.

“A very astute observation. Techniques such as the ones you used would improve my ability to catch criminals by at least 56%,” L intoned flatly. The pink haired psychologist turned, and out of the corner of his eye, L saw the man twist the silver band around his finger. There was a flower of some sort, a rose most likely, ink black that stood as the signet. For a second, L wondered if it were jet or obsidian, but that did not matter, not really.

“I wish I could teach you,” Mikage voiced, “but believe me when I say the only way to learn involves great personal sacrifice.” L just nodded, not quite sure what to say. It was obvious that much had been given for the pursuit of justice, and he was willing to give much more.

“If you should ever seek to learn, you will follow a road that leads you to an end of the world. You might be able to follow it, you’re already brining about your own sort of revolution. I wonder what will happen when you meet someone who has a different vision of the same revolution,” Mikage offered. With that, he turned and walked out. L then finished the tart, knowing that all the poetry, all of the philosophy the man had talked was covering or hiding something. At the same time he knew that trying to follow ‘the road’ Mikage had mentioned would get him nothing that he didn’t in a way have already.

Bubbles

2010-03-06T15:09:58Z

Title: Bubbles
Character: Kasumi Karen
Fandom: X/1999
Rating: PG 13 for reference to nudity/sex work
Word Count: 173
Summary: Karen's first day at a soap land bar
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Don't own the character or the world that she comes from. This story = entertainment purposes only, I make no profit off of this.

She has to remind herself that this is just a job like any other. She doesn't really look at her client's body. Instead she focuses on the small bubbles formed as she applies the soap liberally onto her hands. In one of the bubbles, she thinks she might see a rainbow, but the groan of the business man (who's slightly over weight body she can make out even through the foam) brings her back to reality. She stays focused and when it comes time to wash...that part of his body, she makes sure to do exactly what the woman who had given her the job tells her to do. She is as efficient there as she is with the rest of him. When he leaves the bath, she dries him down with a soft forest green towel, a color out of place against the crimson of her lingerie. He leaves her a good sized tip as he walks away. In the draining bubbles, now fast vanishing, she thinks she sees a cross.

Getting back into Write Saddle

2010-01-29T23:27:19Z

Because I have nothing better to do (besides my homework)

The first TEN people to comment in this post get to request that I write a drabble of any pairing/gen friendship. In return, they have to are encouraged to post this in their journal, regardless of their ability level. (Feel free to modify exactly what's being requested according to your skills.)

My fandoms (in no order):
Aquarion
Revolutionary Girl Utena
Ouran High School Host Club
Death Note
Full Metal Alchemist
Merlin (BBC series)
X-men
Firefly
The Middleman

Because I have been out of Write!Saddle...

2010-01-21T22:30:27Z

15 Words or Less

Hey, saw this on Neva's live journal and I thought I would give it a try. I do great drabbles, and fifteen Word Fics are fun! Give me anyone and everyone from any fandom that I might know of and I'll have it up by the day after.

Peace.

- Angst:
- AU:
- Crack!fic:
- Crossover:
- First Time:
- Fluff:
- Humor:
- Hurt/Comfort:
- Smut:
- UST:

Normalcy Forgotten

2010-01-12T06:34:18Z

Title: Normalcy Forgotten
Fandom: Harry Potter and Ultimate X-men
Characters: Xi'an Coy Manh and Molly Weasley

Spoiler Alert: Vague references to Post Deathly Hallows, pre Ultimate
Summary: Molly Weasley finds out that someone with wizarding relatives isn't quite a muggle.
Rating: PG

Word Count:813
Disclaimer: I neither own, nor claim to, the characters that appear in this piece of fiction. This is a story for the sake of entertainment only, I make no profit from this. That said, I give you...

“Believe it or not Mrs. Weasley, this is not the first time my family has had to deal with…extra-human events,” the Asian woman, who had introduced herself as ‘Shan’ explained. She seemed more interested in the off white of the ceramic mug at her finger tips than in the matronly woman sitting at the opposite end of the table. Molly, for her part, couldn’t make heads or tails of this woman, whose accent was close to French. It had, of course, been Arthur’s idea for her to join a new program that reached out to Muggle families with wizard or witch relatives.

“Really?” Molly said politely. Even though Shan’s eyes were still studying the mug, Molly was unable to shake the feeling of being watched. Shan laughed gently at the comment. While the sound was not unpleasant, it was not something that Moly found pleasing. It was almost like there was someone else who was laughing for the other woman at the small table.

“It’s something a family tradition you might say,” Shan continued, as she removed her fingers from the mug. Whatever it was about her that made Molly feel uncomfortable, it only got worse when the woman’s full attention was on her. There was something in the eyes, Molly eventually decided. They were eyes that had seen death, and much of it. Not that Molly herself hadn’t seen her fair share of death…but that was something she preferred not to think about. The war was over, He Who Shall Not be Named was Dead, and everyone was moving on with their lives.

“Oh, who did it start with then?” again Molly felt herself straining to keep the tone of the conversation polite.

“Me,” Shan stated. As she did so her eyes, which previously had been a dark chocolate in color glowed…or seemed to flash, a bright pink. The transformation began at the pupil and expanded outward in less time than it took Molly to draw breath. By the time she exhaled, the other woman’s eyes were turned back to the coffee cup and were close to the same shade as the fragrant beverage.

“What…do you do?” Molly eventually found herself asking. The way Shan’s eyes flashed couldn’t be magic, or else she wouldn’t have been there.

“There are many terms for what I do. All I know is that what I do…no what I am, makes me dangerous according to some people,” it was with this statement that Molly realized just how young the woman across the table from her really was. She acted much older than she was. How old Shan actually was, Molly couldn’t guess for the life of her, but there was something that said she had seen and done things that many would never do.

“If you were expecting something like this, then why did you ask to talk to me?”

“In order to help take care of my parents during what became their final illnesses, I had to essentially sell my soul. If the people I work for knew that Leong and Nga also weren’t completely normal, it wouldn’t be long before my brother and sister were like me. I have no regrets, not anymore anyway. I am what I am, but the hell I want this life for them,” as she ended that statement, Molly and her locked eyes again. For the first time in the conversation, Molly thought she saw a small chink in the armor that the other woman had put up around her. Behind the icy calm exterior there was a girl, who while slightly older than her daughter could easily have been her Molly’s child, and that girl was scared for her family.

“You want me to see if I can find families here to look after them, don’t you?” A small nod of the head was the only answer Molly got.

“Selling your soul pays well, especially with who I sold to. They’re currently with a sitter, I can give you an address. It’s best they don’t know where I’ve gone to,” despite the almost detached manner in which Shan delivers this information, the older woman could have sworn she heard the younger one’s heart breaking.

“I’ll do what I can for them,” and somehow Molly knew that knowledge would be enough for Shan.

“Thank you, and I would suggest you don’t mention this conversation to anyone. If people like us ever go public, well, it’s not something that I like to think about,” Shan stated simply as she stood. She left a small card with a name and an address along with the crumpled handful of pound notes to pay for the cups of coffee. In the silence of her leaving, Molly wondered just what sort of person she met, and its only after careful consideration that she comes to the conclusion that she might well be happier if she never found out.

The Roses of Late Summer

2010-01-07T16:35:45Z

Title: The Roses of Late Summer
Fandom(s): Firefly and Revolutionary Girl Utena
Pairing(s): Simon Tam and Mikage Souji
Rating: PG-13 for language and brief sexuality
Word Count: 4,026

Summary: Both a belated birthday offering to Sandoz_Iscariot as well as a sequel of sorts to Nevacaruso's wonderful piece "Discontinuity". I heavily recommend reading "Discontinuity" as it is both kick ass and helps this piece to make sense. When the Serentiy takes on a new passenger, Simon begins to wonder just what sort of man he is and why he feels so familiar.

Disclaimer: Don't own or claim to own either Revolutionary Girl Utena or Firefly. This story is for entertainment purposes only and I make no profit from it. This story contains elements of (male) homosexuality, if such acts/lifestyle/thoughts offend you, I ask you not to read. Now, without further ado...

As soon as the young doctor saw the pink haired man in the cargo bay of the Serenity, he paused. Kaylee, who was trying to lure Simon into a drinking game with the crew that night, saw him pause and walked back to him. The doctor in turn, couldn’t or wouldn’t move. The pink haired man stirred…something in him. What it was, he didn’t know how to describe. Instantly, he knew what the man’s fingertips on his wrist would feel like and just how firm yet soft they would be as they held his pulse point. Beyond that, Simon knew that the man’s touch would be…an addiction. How Simon knew all this, he couldn’t admit to himself. After all, this was the first time he had seen the man.

“Simon?” Kaylee asked gently.

“What is it?” Simon responded, his gaze never leaving the delicate features of the pink haired man’s face.

“Why are you looking like the client like you know him?”

“Client?”

“You don’t remember? The captain said we were picking up this hot shot professor who needed a ride to one of the mid-rim worlds.”

“Professor had a name that started with N right?”

“Are you getting enough sleep Simon? His name is Mikage.” As soon as Kaylee said his name, Simon could not prevent himself from shivering slightly. It seemed that the name knew him, the way the pink haired man’s soft but firm hands would know him, had known him perhaps, in what had been another lifetime. Simon shook off that thought as soon as he had it though. He knew he would have remembered someone as unique as this Mikage was. During their conversation, the pink haired man, Mikage, had walked right up to Kaylee and Simon. As he passed, Simon could not prevent his eyes from closing as he felt a wave of almost oppressive humidity, similar to the late summer evenings of his childhood course over him. The sensation was gone as soon as it came.

There was almost something familiar in the feel of the pink haired man's fingertips as they passed Simon's wrist. Simon remembered a scent of some sort of flower and a night in a garden in the late summer where he had dreamed...dreamed what? In the brief moment of eye contact that passed between them, although the thin lenses of the man’s oval glasses separate them, Simon does not see his reflection in the crimson of the other man's eyes. Rather, he saw or thought he saw himself as he might have been, at the university library on one of those late nights of which there had been so many. It was in this moment he remembered a conversation about the constant human struggle against entropy, although he can't remember exactly what was said, although Simon had the feeling that for some reason, he once admitted defeat to this man. A man whose face he can't place, although it would fit easily into the university, perhaps this man too was fond of the library where ghosts of whispers echoed still.

"When you have the chance...Dr. Tam, I would like to speak to you," the professor’s voice was smooth, gentle, and was like the rustling of pages or the light blowing of a breeze.

"Regarding what Professor Mikage?" The name felt oddly familiar in Simon’s mouth.

"The nature of time, eternity, and roses in late summer,” the professor answered walking away. It was only in his wake that Simon noticed the faint aroma of smoke, but as soon as he tried to focus on the scent, it was gone. Kaylee didn’t say anything; she had never seen the normally composed doctor anywhere close to this upset, saving his interactions with his sister. However, she kept silent about it and only tried to push Simon into the drinking game, which he found himself agreeing to.

It was only after the second bottle of Sake was open and Wash had been pulled away by Zoe to ‘take care of some urgent business that Simon’s tongue began to loosen up any. Unlike the night on Canton, he did not wax poetic on Kaylee. Rather, the doctor began to speak of his youth and how he had grown up. Jayne, who by now was rather more intoxicated, continued to drink while the doctor described the life he had lived before the Serenity. Book, who had joined only to make sure that none of the seven deadly sins were broken too much just listened with a small smile on his face. It was only Kaylee who truly listened to the doctor’s stories of his childhood and the early years of his life in university. There was not much difference between the Simon that sat at the table now and the Simon that was being described in the story, however Kaylee listened attentively. Somewhere, in the middle of a description about his first year is when Kaylee smells, or thinks she smells, smoke.

**

A little past midnight as reckoned by the nearest planet with a population of any size, Kaylee found herself trying to support the doctor’s weight as she walks him back to his bunk. She was not surprised to find River waiting in a corridor, and mutely accepted the other girl’s help as she loops Simon’s other arm over her shoulder.

“He’s still a ghost you know. More real, this time, but still a ghost,” River voiced, her gaze focused straight ahead.

“Who?” Simon drawled out, slurring the word just slightly. Kaylee would have found it amusing if she weren’t so curious.

“The one who doesn’t belong, but is here none-the-less,” River responded as if she were reciting some sort of well learned lesson, all the while sending Simon a look that stated clearly you know who I am talking about.

For the second time that night, Kaylee catches, or thought she did, the passing scent of smoke. This time though, she could have sworn that she’d seen, out of the corner of her eye the slight frame of the pink haired professor. However as soon as she tried to focus on him, he was gone. It was for the best though, as Simon was far from easy to carry, and the last thing Kaylee needed was a distraction.

“It can’t be River, he never was,” Simon responded, as if going over an argument that he and River have had since their childhood.

“You’ve let yourself forget, but he remembers, he always remembers.”

“But…”

“He’s here, for now. Remember him,” River said, and the tone of her voice was one that effectively ended the conversation, although Kaylee was of the distinct opinion that had Simon been sober, it would have continued. As it was Simon was unsure on his feet and only managed to take off his shoes before falling into a deep slumber. River wandered off without saying as much as goodbye, leaving a very confused mechanic to contemplate the exchange that had taken place between the Tams. She eventually decided to ask Simon in the morning, if he remembered anything of the night.

**

When Kaylee came to and went forth for her cup of coffee, she found that Simon had already arisen and was nursing what well might have been either his third or fourth cup of the life giving black liquid. Seated across the table from him, fingers wrapped delicately around the handle of an antique mug, sat Professor Mikage. Kaylee felt the heavy silence as she entered the kitchen, and decided it would be best if she grabbed her coffee and ran. After all, there were about two hundred things that needed to be done to the engine.

“Professor Mikage…” Simon began.

“Souji, please,” the pink haired man corrected, taking the smallest possible sip from his mug.

“Souji,” Simon was surprised by just how comfortable the name felt on his tongue, “You said that you wanted to speak with me?”

“I did?”

“Yes, you did. You said that you wanted to talk with me about the nature of time, eternity and…” Simon stopped and closed his eyes. A night, now many years past, flashed into his minds eye like the ember of an ancient fire, ready to start a new inferno. The smoke in the air dissolved into the heavy scent of late blooming roses, and again he could have sworn he felt the oppressive humidity that only a late summer could bring. He remembered a man who had said…who had said what? All Simon could clearly remember was the ring, a band of silver with a rose sigil, that in a moonlight garden had been a color close to ebony.

“And the roses in late summer,” Souji finished. His eyes were directly locked on Simon’s and for a moment, there is a perfect silence that rested between the two. If anyone were to happen to walk in on it, they might well have thought that they were walking in on a display in a museum or a frozen tableau from a performance art piece. Neither of the men moved, their eyes locked, as if an unspoken conversation existed in their gaze. It was Mikage who broke the scene, with the same eerie ease he had began it. The pink haired man stood, finished his drink, and walked out of the kitchen, leaving the doctor holding a now cold half finished mug of coffee. Simon wondered how long they had been staring at each other, and had to make peace with the fact that there was no way to know, truly know. Only when he has had a chance to look back will he be able to reckon how much time had passed, and even then, Simon might not know.

**

For the rest of the day, Simon did his best to stay out of the path of his fellow shipmates, but more specifically, he made sure that he was nowhere near the pink haired man, whose scent was smoke and whose touch would be an addiction. Only when the captain came to ask why Simon was not being social with the guest did the doctor confess that the passenger made him feel ill at ease.

“Why, you think he’s one of those sort that is after you or your sister?” Mal inquired, clearly as anxious about the possible threat of an Alliance man on his boat.

“No, Souji would say…” Simon paused as he savored the way the man’s name felt on his tongue. It was like an exquisite tea or a fine wine, something that deserved savoring.

“What?”

“…That he had ‘nothing to do with our war,’” Simon found himself quoting, unconsciously trying to mirror the pink haired man’s voice. Based off the look on Mal’s face, the imitation had been far from successfully.

“What do you mean by ‘our war’?” The captain asked, clearly focused. Simon looked at the floor beneath him and just shrugged his shoulders. The captain’s question seemed strangely familiar. It felt like something Simon himself may have once asked, or wanted to ask.

“You know this client?”

Simon paused for a moment before slowly shaking his head no despite the urge to nod a strong yes. He could think of no response beyond the physical one he had given and the captain walked off, as perhaps just as puzzled by the doctor, but refusing to show it in any discernable manner. That left Simon with his meditations about a man who was clearly neither one thing or another, and whose spider like hands seemed at once so alien and entirely too familiar. Lost in his thoughts, the doctor did not notice when the professor entered the room and became aware of the other man only through the intensity of the carbuncle gaze upon the back of his neck. The hairs on the back of his neck rose, an ancient reflex.

“Souji,” Simon whispered, not turning around.

“Yes?” The professor responded, his voice equally low, but carrying. Simon could have sworn that the other man was directly behind him, breathing his responses into his ear.

“Why do I feel we have already discussed time, and what it means to be eternal? Why do I feel like you know what the rose garden of my house looks like?” Simon found it close to impossible to resist the urge to push himself backwards, to invite the other man’s fingertips to ghost along his skin and write in languages now long forgotten.

“Perhaps you already have had a discussion of time with someone who was like me? It would be easy to mistake my face.”

“I know I would remember you,” Simon almost groaned, more trying to affirm it for himself than the other man. As he turned to face the professor, he saw only Mikage’s retreating frame through the doorway. For what felt like the fiftieth time that day, although it may only be the first, Simon found himself questioning his state of mind. Such meditations could wait though; he had to make sure everything was organized in the infirmary.

For the rest of the day, Simon kept on looking over his shoulder, half-expecting, perhaps even half-hoping to see their passenger standing behind him. Every time he inhaled, the young doctor remembered the faint aroma of smoke that seemed to hang around Mikage like some sort of protective veil. Simon’s skin craved the thin, pale, fingers to trace the outline of his body. In particular, Simon’s wrists ached, a dull throbbing pain that did not seem to subsist no matter how much he attempted to massage the pulse points. However he attributed the ache in his wrists more to the hours he had spent sorting the medicines and supplies of the infirmary. Only when he looked down did he realize that he had been moving the same five bottles of pills around for only heaven knew exactly how long. He closed his eyes, and slowly inhaled. Upon exhaling with the same slow speed, while simultaneously opening his eyes, he might have sworn that the ache in his wrists grew more intense.

**

Knowing that he would be chewed out by the captain for using any of the plethora of painkillers the crew had procured from Ariel, Simon went to Inara’s shuttle to see if she might be able to help his wrist any. During his walk to the companion’s shuttle, he compared the interior of the ship to the pathways through his parents’ gardens, however it was a short-lived comparison. There weren’t many similarities. Besides, the interior of the university library had been more like the ship. The ship and its place in his personal history were unique, but no matter how hard he tried he could not prevent his mind from drifting back into the past and trying to make comparisons to the present. It felt like he had forgotten something, and if he could only think hard enough, whatever it was that he had forgotten would return with a glorious thunderclap. However, the harder that he looked, the more distant whatever memory he was trying recover seemed. It was if a layer of heavy fog or smoke hung around whatever it was that he was trying to remember, and the harder he tried, the more dense the cloud became. Eventually, as he stood before the door to Inara’s shuttle, he decided that it would be for the best if he attempted to recall whatever it was he had let slip by the wayside later. Clearly, he was having no success at the current moment.

Inara, as almost always, was a gracious hostess. While she denied having any painkillers, she was willing to attempt to relieve some of the stress in Simon’s wrists through a massage. Although Inara was a skilled masseuse, nothing she was able to do did anything for the tension in Simon’s wrists. The doctor sighed, wondering why he had allowed himself to be so absent minded in the infirmary.

“Is there something the matter?” Inara asked, the index and middle fingers of both hands at just below Simon’s left palm.

“I don’t think it’s anything that you could help me with,” Simon responded, not wanting to be rude, but wanting to keep his issues to himself.

“You, of all people on this ship, should know that a Companion is the soul of discretion,” Inara chided gently.

“It’s our latest client, Mikage…there’s something about him.”

“So you noticed it to?”

“Noticed what?”

“We have similar talents, and perhaps interests. Granted he’s own a different playing field, but the game remains unchanged.”

“He’s a male companion?” Simon replied, raising one eyebrow with slight disbelief.

“Not a companion, but he is certainly a player. He’s different than Saffron was, but the principle remains the same.”

“If he’s like Saffron, then why haven’t you told the captain?”

“Because, unlike Saffron, the only person he seems to have shown any interest is in you. If anyone needs to be careful, you do.”

“I’m fully capable of looking after myself Inara. Thank you for your time,” Simon eventually said, pulling his wrists away from her touch, although they were still aching. She said nothing, but there was something in her eyes that Simon could not read. Rather, she just escorted Simon to the door of the shuttle. In the moments after the shuttle door was closed, Simon stood with his back against the interior wall of the ship and tried to focus on his breathing. Even in the almost silence with his back against the cold metal, Simon could easily imagine the slight buzz of a party conversation with the heat of a late summer afternoon just beginning to lift slightly while the humidity remained.

**

Eventually, Simon drifted back into the infirmary and stayed there until well past the conventional mealtime had passed, taking care of the odd jobs that needed to be taken care of. Only after he was certain that everyone else would be asleep did the doctor dare to venture into the commissary. Once there, Simon could not honestly say that he was surprised to see Souji Mikage sitting at (what to the doctor was) the far end of the table, calmly sipping something from the same antique mug that he had used at the first meal of the daily cycle.

“Simon,” Mikage said, his eyes never leaving the doctor’s.

“Souji,” Tam responded, his gaze now locked. For a brief moment, a silence fell between the two men as they stared at each other. “The time for our conversation is long overdue, isn’t it?” The doctor eventually volunteered, saying anything to banish the deafening silence.

“That it is, but I believe it would be far more comfortable if we discussed things in my room,” Souji suggested. Simon just nodded, mutely, not trusting his voice at the moment, somehow knowing that anything he could or would say would betray all of the emotions that were coursing through him. In as close to perfect silence as the doctor could manage, he followed the pink haired professor through the corridors of the Serenity, not caring how long it took him to reach his destination. Every step of the journey, the doctor’s heart thundered in his chest, and Simon could remember trying to get up the nerve to…do something his parents would not have approved of. Whatever it was, Simon was not sure of, all that he could remember was that his logic had been, ”I want to.” When the pair finally reached the door of Mikage’s small room, Simon had to pause to compose himself. It did him little good; he could not prevent himself from shaking.

“Is everything alright Simon?” Mikage inquired, although the tone of his voice seemed to indicate that the professor already knew at least part of the doctor’s response. Still, Simon found himself searching for words, wondering what the best way to answer the professor’s question.

“No, everything is not alright. Every time I get near you, I start seeing, feeling, things that I haven’t seen or felt in what amounts to a small lifetime. Every time I as much as hear your voice I remember the university library late at night. I don’t know what it is but…” Simon trailed off. By now, Mikage was sitting on the bed next to him, holding one of the doctor’s wrists in his hands. Mikage’s skin is just as soft as Simon imagined it would be, but there was firmness in the grip that can only have come from years spent holding some sort of implement. A weapon perhaps, Simon thought to himself, although for the life of him, he cannot think why his mind immediately flashed to that possibility.

“It’s alright, go deeper,” Mikage gently encouraged, rubbing small circles over Simon’s pulse point. Feeling compelled on a primal level, he closed his eyes and let himself dive into his memories. Slowly at first, but then with a speed that would have put even River’s keen reflexes to shame, Simon found all of the memories, everything he had allowed himself to forget from that summer. Tilting his head back, he let out a deep groan as the cascade of memories flashed before his minds eye. Although it took only a matter of seconds, for Simon it felt like an eternity. Upon opening his eyes, it was all Simon could do not to punch Mikage. Instead he did something he almost never did, and something that Kaylee would have given a pretty penny to hear. He started swearing like a spacer.

“You…you…goram bastard! What the Hell are you doing here?” Simon demanded, doing everything in his power to prevent himself from screaming. As it was, his voice was louder than would normally be acceptable during the night hours of the ship. Somehow Simon knew that no one would hear him.

“I am not here to harm your sister, if that is what you mean,” Mikage responded calmly, his grip still firm around Simon’s wrist.

“Then what are you here for? Why are you here? I thought you said…”

“Time, Simon is relative, especially for someone like the man that I work for. For him, while I have been here a matter of days, he has been waiting fractions of seconds for me to return. He believes that there might be someone of use to him somewhere in the mid-rim. He has given me as much time here as I felt necessary to get the task done. A small reward perhaps.”

“Why did you come here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Nothing ever was with you Souji.”

“Touché.”

“I don’t think that I can trust you. You vanished Souji, left me with more questions then answers and I somehow managed to forget you, although I don’t think I should be surprised at that. Then you show up again, and I just…I just don’t know what to believe about you.”

“I swear upon this ring,” Mikage pause briefly as he put his hand over the sigil, “that I wish no harm to you or any of the crew of this ship, including your sister. If you do not believe my words, then believe my actions.” With that Mikage leaned forward and planted his lips firmly on Simon’s. They were everything that Simon imagined they would be, and more. Time ceased to exist as Mikage’s tongue begged entrance into Simon’s mouth, and soon the two were performing a dance as ancient as the human race itself, taking their time to make sure that the night would not be mistaken for a figment nor a passing dream. Eventually, the dance stopped, but they remain close to each other, holding onto each other as if for dear life, or an affirmation of something greater. Exactly what, neither one would be able to tell.

**

In the morning, Simon walked the professor to the breakfast table. No one said anything, although there were a few odd looks. Simon did not mind though. He now had something he could and would remember. It was something that would not fade as the scent of roses from that late summer, now many years past had faded.

Quick Update

2009-09-30T07:24:48Z

I kept the fast this year. Perhaps the hardest year that I have kept the fast. I was without community, without those to keep the fast with me. That was difficult. However I emerged. Soon homestays will begin. Will not have access for a while.

All the best

Writer's Block: Going Without

2009-08-22T18:10:52Z

Twice a year, on Yom Kippur, and Tisha B'av I fast the required 25 hours. I would fast more routinely, as there is a certain mental clarity that comes from the fast, and as I move on in my life, I know that there will be more fasts required for any number of reasons.

Thoughts on The Middleman

2009-08-08T22:01:11Z

Yesterday, after starting on Tuesday, I finished The Middleman. I thought it was a fun series with wonderful characters (Wendy, Sensei Ping, Lacey...the list continues), and had an interesting premise. While I am not likely to write any fanfiction, I want to recommend it to anyone who is looking for a fun show. In my opinion, it is very much like Dr. Who, except just a bit more with the humor.

Start of a LARP

2009-08-07T03:13:28Z

After combing my brains for things to write, I have finally started on writing a LARP, tentatively titled "The Business in Belfast." As of yet All I have is a basic premise and one character sheet. As this is my first time writing a LARP, I think some nervous tension on my part is justified. As I develop more of a back story for the entire LARP, a list of characters, things of that nature, I will keep everyone advised. At the moment, I'm not seeing this being much more than a ten to twelve person game, small compared to some of the other LARPs I have heard described, but larger than others.

I just hope I haven't bitten off more than I can chew...

All the best

T.

A Mercy

2009-08-06T02:44:00Z

Title: A Mercy
Fandom: Death Note
Spoilers: End of the Series
Characters: Ryuk and Light
Rating: PG 13 (for violence not in story, descriptions of blood, reference to death)
Summary: It is the end of the apples...and Ryuk doesn't know just how he feels about that.
Disclaimer: Characters = not mine. I make no profit off this. This story is strictly for entertainment purposes
Word Count: 331

For a moment, the Shinigami is perfectly still as he looks at the man in front of him. Blood is at the dying man’s lips, for the man is truly dying. Even if the pen doesn’t move, the, man does not have much time left. Once, long ago, the Shinigami, known only to the dying man as Ryuk said that he was neither on the dying man’s side or the side of a man long since dead. Ryuk would claim that he is fulfilling a promise made at the beginning of his acquaintance with the dying man. Perhaps that is all there is to this.

If there is, Ryuk most certainly isn’t telling.

As Ryuk moves the pen in the black notebook, the Shinigami knows it is the end of the apples. Never again will he taste their juicy flesh, nor will he ever know their aroma again. However the Shinigami knows that this day is long past over due, and what he is doing now is perhaps merciful, not that the Shinigami would ever admit it to himself.
With a last stroke of the pen, he finishes writing in the dying man’s name, Light stares, knowing exactly what the Shinigami has done. Light had never been close to being the god that he had so craved to be, and this knowledge is sinking in now. Ryuk can see it in his eyes as they grow ever more dim.

With a mighty flap of his wings, the Shinigami leaves the scene, no longer having anything to bind him to this place or time. Never again will he know an apple. This thought alone would drive a lesser Shinigami, a lesser being to insanity. However for a while, he indulged, and he enjoyed the indulgences, but that doesn’t prevent an odd sensation that he quickly dismisses as a spasm of the addiction from passing through his body.

Only issue is, his entire body does not twist, only the corner of his lips.

Homecoming

2009-08-04T20:25:39Z

Just over a week until I am able to return to CA and rest after the insanity that has been Middlebury Summer Language Immersion. Thank Hashem.

Soon, oh so soon.

Top 5 Polyamorous Relationships

2009-07-25T06:02:06Z

1. Merlin/Morgana/Arthur/Gwen (Merlin)
2. Utena/Anthy/Wakaba (Revolutionary Girl Utena)
3. Rose/9/Jack (Dr. Who)
4. Leslie/Derringer/Kitty (Friendly Hostility Webcomic)
5. Saonji/Touga/Akio

5 Characters I could not write romatincally

2009-07-25T05:37:22Z

1. Akio Ohtori (Revolutionar Girl Utena
2. Shou Tucker (FMA)
3. Destiny of the Endless (Sandman)
4. Daria Morgendorfer (Daria)
5. Any character from Sesame Street

Top 5 New (for me) Fandoms

2009-07-25T05:03:37Z

1. Aquaron
2. Merlin
3. Trigun
4. Weeds
5. Ouran High School Host Club

5 Evil Geniuses

2009-07-25T04:33:33Z

1. Ohtori Akio (Revolutionary Girl Utena)
2. Nathaniel Essex (X-men)
3. Shou Tucker (FMA)
4.Dante (FMA)
5. L. Yagami (Death Note)

Top 5 Geniuses

2009-07-25T04:09:53Z

1. Forge
2. Souji Mikage
3. Pinako Rockbell
4. Simon Tam
5. Daria Morgendorfer

Honorable Mention: L
See evil Genius list.

1st Merlin Fiction

2009-06-13T18:46:33Z

Title: Power
Rating: G
Fandom: Merlin
Summary: What Merlin sees when his eyes flash golden.
Word Count: 139
Disclaimer: Don't own or claim to own the program Merlin. This story is for entertainment purposes only.

When his eyes flash golden, Merlin doesn’t see the world. This is not to say that he goes blind, rather it is to say that he sees beyond the world. He sees time, space, and everything in between. What he sees cannot be described, not easily. He sees the world of the Sidhe, and the turquoise waterfalls of their magic. He sees the dragon’s heart, burning at the center of the world, a ruby mirror to the gold of the sun. He sees the shades of the ancients, who remain bound to their stone markers, translucent and frail, disappearing with the passing of the wind. He sees the beginning, the end, and all moments in between. For one moment, he understands the spider-web connection between all existence, and in that moment, he is able to change the world.

End of the Alphabet

2009-06-01T04:45:25Z

At long, fucking last it is done. I have written twenty-six drabbles about the Sewing-Life alchemist, coming to (most likely) just over two thousand plus words. While this might not seem a lot compared to some of the other stories out there, it is a lot of energy focused on a character who is far from sympathetic for most of the time that we know him. So the question becomes, what drove me to write about Shou Tucker above all of the other compelling characters in Full Metal Alchemist? One of my friends said it best, I happen to be very good at writing characters that happen to be rather difficult to sympathize with. Previous examples include: Irene Adler (blind pre-cognitive), Shepherd Book (mysterious preacher who has no issue shooting people in the knee), Souji Mikage (ghostly psychologist who specializes in bringing people to the darkest parts of their mind and keeping them there), and Dream of the Endless (immortal personification of Dream). I have other characters that I have written, and would like to think that I have written well, but Shou Tucker was perhaps one of the most challenging I have written to date.

The challenge with Tucker is that there are moments when I as an author absolutely hated him. There were moments when writing these drabbles, I had to stop and literally walk away from my computer to focus on something else. There were other drabbles in this series that I wrote very quickly (in the span of ten minutes or less). The main difficulty of Tucker was trying to keep him true to the series and to show all of his humanity, both his positive traits and his faults. Granted, it was often times easier to focus on his failings, but I don’t think that I would have attempted this had I not seen some of Tucker’s positive qualities. There are moments when I definitely felt sorry for the character, and there are clear moments in the series that show just how flawed of a being he is.

Portraying these flaws was perhaps one of my driving desires in writing these drabbles. It is also these flaws and the fact that Shou has moments of great humanity (such as when he comforts Edward in episode 5) that drew me to the character. However now that I have finished writing this series of twenty-six, I do not think that Tucker will make an appearance in any more Full Metal fan-fiction that I will be writing. As fun as some of these pieces have been, I am relieved that I no longer have to focus on this singular character. After over two thousand words dedicated to him, I have nothing left to say.

B is for Beast

2009-06-01T02:20:43Z

Title: B is for Beast
Fandom(s): Full Metal Alchemist
Character(s): Shout Tucker, Nina Tucker, Mira Tucker (last two in passing)
Rating: PG 13
Summary: Last part of the alphabet challenge. What remains of Shou Tucker when all pretenses are gone?
Word Count: 111
Disclaimer: Don't own or claim to own FMA. This story is for entertainment purposes only.

He feels the immense weight of his body rather than sees it. He knows his perspective of the world has shifted, both physically as well as philosophically. What he knows of the world has changed greatly, and why shouldn’t it have? Shou Tucker that was is dead. The man to whom Mira had been wedded had died a long time ago, truth be told. The same is true with the man who was the father of Nina. What remains has only the name in common with those two men. What remains, what truly remains, is the beast that Sewing Life has kept locked in the darkest, deepest, caves of his mind.

timesrunning @ 2009-05-25T22:31:00

2009-05-26T05:34:41Z

Title: G is for Guilt
Rating: PG
Fandom(s): Full Metal Alchemist
Summary: There is a reason for the moisture on Shou Tucker's cheek.
Disclaimer: Don't own or claim to own these characters or the show they come from. I make no money off of this. This story = entertainment purposes only.
Characters: Shou and Nina Tucker
Word Count: 120

As his daughter cries into his arms, Shou’s body shudders to mirror hers. He tells himself it’s from the wetness on his shoulder. He tells himself that the wetness on his cheek comes from Nina’s cheeks. He tells himself that he is staying up at night because he does not want Nina to be alone and afraid. However, in the depths of his soul, he knows the truth. There is a reason he has only found a few hours of sleep every night. It is the same reason that he has had to cover all of the pictures of Mira with a simple black cloth. It is the guilt he feels every time he dares to look in Nina’s eye.

Coffee and Flower Petals

2009-05-23T06:15:55Z

Title: Coffee and Flower Petals
Fandom(s): Sandman and Revolutionary Girl Utena
Character(s): Rose Walker and Souji Mikage
Rating: PG
Summary: Written in response to neva_caruso's challenge for my crossover fic meme. As a waitress for night patrons, Rose has one regular she just can't put her finger on.
Disclaimer: Don't own or claim to either fandom. This story = purely entertainment. Written in present tense throughout, I know.
Word Count: 1363

It isn’t the sort of job that she imagined herself working when she was younger, but nothing is ever like she expected it would be. Rose takes it to get herself to do something productive on the many sleepless nights she’s been having ever since…well ever since whatever it was that has happened with her grandmother. It’s funny, she thinks to herself, as she gets into her uniform, she used to fall asleep so easily. Now, if she can get four hours of uninterrupted sleep a night she thinks of herself as lucky. Every time she feels herself begin to dream, she has to wake herself up as she is afraid that she’ll see him, the man that almost…. no it was just a dream, a stupid dream. Still, no matter how many times she tells that to herself, she is wary every times she sees a pail face with dark hair. As of yet though, she has still to meet someone with those eyes that were darkness, not just black.

The café is a small one, near one of the local universities. The pay is shit, but it doesn’t really matter. Not with everything that her grandmother left to her. Besides, she mostly sets her own hours, and Rose knows that is a blessing. Most of the time, she takes what many would call the graveyard shift. It helps to fill some of the many sleepless nights she’s been having. Whenever she can sleep (which is often times as little as three hour a night) she does not dream. She hasn’t dreamed…in what feels like a small eternity. So, she fills her nights taking orders for coffee, various baked goods, and sometimes small meals. The night crowd for the most part is very quiet. Two weeks after she completed her training, she finds the rhythm of her work. It is an easy one, and despite the lousy pay, she is able to live with it. A month after starting she starts to recognize some of the faces.

One of the things about the night patrons is that they are a fairly regular cast of characters. There’s Gladys, who was one of the first women in to be part of the Army Corp of Engineers and won’t let anyone forget it. Then there’s Simon, who’s always griping about his boss’ coffee or cigarette habit (who Simon’s boss is, no one exactly knows.) There’s Henry, who has had more affairs than anyone, including Henry, can easily remember. Another member of this ragtag group is Marie, a former professional chef who always has some small critique about the food. Then there is the man who sits at table five.

The man at table five is very quiet, always orders the same thing (a cup of black coffee, some sort of cold sandwich without a side, and a piece of whatever pie looks the freshest), and always pays in cash leaving exactly the same amount of tip (fifteen percent). Rose has given up trying to be personable with him, and he seems to be grateful for it, in the small way that he nods his head whenever she delivers his order. As of yet, Rose hasn’t gotten close enough just how through the dye job is of his soft pink hair and wonders if she would ever color her hair in the same way. Instantly, she knows that she would not as she would get too many comments about her name corresponding to her hair color. Whenever she handles the bills that he leaves on the table, she notices something odd about them. What it is, she has never been able to explain, but she has never felt comfortable keeping his tips for very long. She always ends up giving them to Jed, for a little extra pocket money, and he is always grateful.

Whatever it is about the quiet man who sits at table five, Rose has never tried to put her finger on it. She knows that to do so would make her face some of those things that she has tried oh so hard to forget. Fortunately, the man at table five only shows up (on average) twice a week. Ninety minutes out of the 10,080 available in a week doesn’t seem to bad, but then she is disturbed that she has calculated just how much time (on average) she spends in the presence of the man at table five compared to the time in the rest of the week. Then she thinks to herself, what was the point of all of the calculations, the passage of time is such a relative thing, as she learned from the life of her grandmother.

One day, before her shift begins, Rose sees the man at table five out of the corner of her eye on the other side of the street. He is exiting a bookshop with a brown bag in one hand and a newspaper in the other. For the first time, Rose notices a small silver band around the ring finger of his right hand, and wonders why she didn’t notice it before, when she was closer to him. Then again, she isn’t really all that surprised it has taken so long to see such a small thing. He doesn’t notice her and as a bus crosses her field of vision, he vanishes. This doesn’t surprise her in the least; then again, little really does anymore (except maybe some of the invectives Gladys uses).

That night, one of the two nights that the man at table five normally comes, he is absent. Rose doesn’t think about it. She has enough to deal with. However, on the back of her mind, he is there, waiting like a phantom scent (her name’s sake to be exact). When she does fall asleep that night, she unable to wake herself from dreaming, a dream in which a school building burns and a man whose damning stare is entirely too familiar, although his skin is the wrong shade (a milky chocolate instead of an alabaster). Upon waking, she finds herself in a cold sweat, wondering if she needs to see a doctor, knowing that the visit, should she arrange one, would do no good.

To clear her mind, she goes to a different coffee shop and orders a coffee, black. It is only after her third sip that she sees that man from table five walking over to her and standing at the edge of her table.

“Rose, correct?” He asks, although the tone of his voice suggests that there is only one answer to this question.

“Yes. You’re one of the night crowd?” she responds politely, her voice measured carefully. The last thing she wants at this moment is to cause a scene, although that might be her only option to escape the man with pink hair.

“I am. I just wanted to thank you for your excellent service.”

“Welcome.”

“Also, I just wanted to let you know that this is the last time you will see me. There has been some rather urgent business that needs my attention elsewhere.”

“I’m sorry to see such a valued patron leave,” her voice has the correct sympathy, but inwardly she is rejoicing.

He extends his hand, holding a few fresh bills and puts them on the table in front of her. “For Gladys, I lost a bet,” he explains.

“What sort of bet?” she can’t stop herself from asking.

“About the nature of reality.”

“I’m tired of wondering what’s real anymore,” she mutters more to herself then to him. If he hears her, he does not indicate it. He only nods politely and leaves. As Rose unfolds the bills he left her, she finds a single dried flower petal (so old it appears to be black) and with a small card. On the card’s surface are lines of black ink, written in a smooth, flowing hand that Rose knew instantly would belong to the man at table five. She now has a name for him though, Souji Mikage.

That night, after work, she falls into sleep, and for the first time in a long while, she does not dream.

I is for Innocence

2009-05-18T22:42:08Z

Title: I is for Innocence
Rating: PG
Fandom(s): Full Metal Alchemist
Character(s): Shou Tucker, Mira Tucker, and Nina Tucker
Summary: Shortly after she is born, Shou watches his daughter sleep.
Word Count: 119
Disclaimer: Don't own or claim to own FMA. Story = for entertainment purposes only.

At just over 18 inches and just under 6 pounds, Shou Tucker had fallen in love with his daughter the second she had entered the world. Even Mira could see it, and despite the pains of labor, a small smile had been on her lips when father had first met daughter. Mother and daughter were sleeping now, and Shou was oh so tempted to join them. He couldn’t make himself sleep though, although he consciously knew that it would soon become a precious commodity, far more valued than any of the material components he used for the small review section he taught. As his daughter slept, Shou could not help but think that she was the picture of innocence.

K is for Karma

2009-05-11T02:24:33Z

Title: K is for Karma
Fandom: Full Metal Alchemist
Rating: PG 13
Characters: Shou Tucker, Mira Tucker, Nina Tucker, Alphonse Elric, Edward Elric (last four in passing)
Summary: The sum of all of Shou Tucker’s deeds is this…the cocking of a rifle
Disclaimer: I don’t own or claim to own this fandom or the characters their in
Word Count: 129

With the rifles pointed at him, Shou knows this is exactly what he deserves. There is nothing else that could have come of what he had done. As the soldiers begin to cock their rifles, Shou does not see his life pass before his eyes, not exactly anyway. Rather he sees the stream of events that has led to this moment. He sees Mira’s naked body covered in alchemical symbols, he sees the hybrid that looked at him with damning eyes, he sees his little girl running in the snow with Edward and Alphonse and the moment where he felt like he had a family again. As he hears the command to aim, Shou knows that this is the sum of all of his deeds, his karma at last.

Can't Believe I'm Doing This

2009-05-02T02:47:48Z

This is based off of a meme I first saw on Neva Caruso's Journal. With school coming to an end as well as the Damned Alphabet Challenge, I wanted to try my hand at new characters and new fic. So without any further ado:

Below the cut, I'm going to list a total of 20 characters (10 male, 10 female). Your job, if you choose to accept it, is to pick two of the characters (can be from same fandom or not) and give me a line of dialogue/song/quote. I will attempt to write something for those two characters interacting.

Males:
Merlin (Merlin)
Brainiac 5 (Legion of Super Heroes, Animated Verse)
Batman (Nolan-verse)
L (Death Note)
Shepherd Book (Firefly)
Xorn Shen(X-men Comics)
Forge (X-men Evolution)
Mikage Souji (Revolutionary Girl Utena)
Tony Stark (Iron Man Movie)
Shou Tucker (Full Metal Alchemist)

Females:
Morgana (Merlin)
Zoe Washburne (Firefly)
Maria Ross (Full Metal Alchemist)
Irene Adler (X-men Evolution)
Xi’an Coy Manh (X-men Comics)
Rose Walker (Sandman)
Juri Arisugawa (Revolutionary Girl Utena)
Temperance Brennan (Bones)
Harley Quinn (Batman Cartoon Verse)
Kara Kent/Supergirl (Superman Cartoon Verse)

I won't have a chance to get started until May 9, when I will be back home without the pressure of classes. Limit 5 respondents as this is my first time even thinking about doing this. Crossovers may be cross posted on the Big Damn Crossover Group Board. So, if interested, please respond.