Title: Spill
Kazuma honestly had no idea what Kaoru had meant when she said, “Come on, we're going out.”
This time it seemed like she was doing all the leading around, ducking into various restaurants and giving the menus glances so quick that Kazuma could barely keep up.
He could barely keep up with whatever she was thinking anyway. There had to be some purpose behind this, right? He supposed it was what most people would call a 'date'. He couldn't really be sure, being unfamiliar with the concept of 'dates', despite having been called out by some women while working at ADAM.
So it was at a table in Sushi Gin that the whole night took a weird twist, one that made him think. Kaoru was picking at a piece of sashimi, swirling it around in her plate of soy sauce when she decided to ask: “So, what's the relationship between you and Majima?”
“What do you mean?” he asked calmly, trying to choose another portion of raw fish from the dish in the center of the table.
He thought he heard her mumble: “Jeez, you know what I mean”, but he was unsure and just continued staring down at the dish. She lost her patience. “Oh, come on! You know!”
“Uh... no. No, I'm afraid I don't.” Kazuma said honestly. She gave a frustrated groan.
“You and Majima seem... close.”
“Well, yeah. I mean, he is a higher rank than me and all that -”
“That's not what I meant, Mr. Kiryuu.”
Kazuma stopped, puzzled once more. He thought he was really onto something there, beginning to understand her, but he supposed he was wrong. But then, he had no idea what she could possibly be hinting at. 'Close'?
“He... you know, he took care of me and all that.”
“'Took care of you' how?” Kaoru stared at him across the table, her eyes seeming to pierce into his heart. He had to admit that it made him slightly nervous, but he still couldn't say that he knew what she was getting at.
“Like... a... brother? Like they always do in the yakuza?” he answered honestly, but she sighed, exasperated.
“Do I have to spell it out for you, Mr. Kiryuu?” she said rather loudly, causing more than a few patrons to turn their heads and whisper amongst themselves. Realising the reactions of those around her, she lowered it to a more respectable volume. “I'm asking you if you and Goro Majima are, or were, lovers.”
Certainly, it was enough of a question to make Kazuma almost spit out his piece of fatty tuna. Kaoru cocked an eye at his strange behaviour as he spluttered, embarrassed. Indeed, it was the first time she had ever seen him act in such a way.
“It's there a problem, Mr. Kiryuu?” she asked. “I'm merely asking you a question. You don't need to be embarrassed or ashamed.”
“What's with that kind of question?” Kazuma was wiping his face bashfully, avoiding her gaze. “It's a pretty personal one, don't you think?”
“It's just, given your... interactions... I'd like to know the full story before I jump to any conclusions.” She stared, meaning to be forceful in her actions, but knew that she couldn't be so cruel as to pry an answer out of him if he didn't want to discuss such personal matters.
She sighed. “Actually... don't worry about it. Please pass me the ginger.”
He did so, finally looking at her as though he was trying to prove that her question didn't affect him that much. But she knew it did.
Nevertheless, he shrugged, resuming his enjoyment of his meal. She looked up from her plate briefly, watching him as he helped himself to some radish. Don't worry, Kaoru, she thought to herself. You'll find out someday. He'll spill.
END
A/N: Or is it? Maybe this will turn into a rambling multichap.
Summary: What's with you two?
Rating: K+
Pairing: Majima/Kazuma, vague hints of Kazuma/Sayama
Warnings: Slash (of course), mild het.
Disclaimer: Not mine, no sir.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Spill, a Yakuza/Ryu ga Gotoku fanfic
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Half-Time, a Metal Gear Solid fic
Title: Half-Time
Arrogance. It was all there on his handsome, smirking face, plain and obvious. It seemed to suit him and although it was the only facial expression conveyed, Dave didn't seem to mind. After all, it was impossible to know how he was truly feeling anyway. It seemed to calm him, even if it was just a little.
However, Dave knew that with the twisting, harsh body and seductive words lay a human above him, warm-blooded with a heart pumping, just like him. Under these circumstances, he could act no differently from Dave himself. Except that right at this moment, in Dave's eyes, he was irresistible. Egotistical and irresistible and so... alive.
As he moved fingers, hand, mouth downwards, holding him in his grasp and charms, his eyes spoke of something obscure, yet so wonderful. Obscure, but it was happening. And Dave never wanted it to stop.
And he thrust in, forceful, hard, rough. Yet beneath that, there was some sort of gentle kindness, maybe because Liquid knew he was his own flesh and blood, his brother. Perhaps that was why he was so alluring to begin with.
Yes, what was before him was most definitely real.
END
Summary: Egotistical and irresistible and so... alive.
Rating: M
Pairing: Liquid/Solid
Warnings: Incest, slash, non-explicit porn, PWP.
Disclaimer: Kojima's.
Notes: Oh god, this is so old. I'm posting it now because I just found it and I like it.
Monday, November 30, 2009
NaNoWriMo 2009: THE PLATONIC PROM
I managed to actually finish NaNoWriMo yesterday, meaning that I still had a whole day to spare. Goodbye, stress! Maybe.
Anyway, I'm quite unhappy with how this turned out, but I suppose it's to be expected since I just rushed through it. The pacing is shot to all hell. I guess it wasn't what I had imagined, not that I had really planned anything before starting to write it.
If anyone manages to read this without ripping their eyes out... well, kudos!
So, download The Platonic Prom.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Anxiety: Chapter 6, a Transformers fic
Anxiety, Chapter 6. In which the Autobots take action.
In his mind, Ultra Magnus quickly counted the number of Decepticons. We're outnumbered, he thought solemnly, sincerely wishing that Rodimus had taken his advice and brought more than just a handful of the Aerialbots and the Protectobots. “We definitely can't take any off their duties on Cybertron,” the leader had reasoned. “And we can't wait for men to arrive from Earth, given the state of the space bridge.” Hmm, Rodimus did have a point...
... and as he thought that, he found he did too, except this one was ramming squarely against his chest. Somewhere, he could hear Rodimus shouting, “Magnus!” as the force of the hit sent him flying backwards. He managed to regain his balance just in time to see Galvatron lunging towards him again, parrying the would-be blow to slam his elbow into the Decepticon leader's back. “I've got this under control, Rodimus!”
Rodimus gave a signal in the affirmative and turned back to the remainder of his troops, quickly issuing his orders. Magnus had been right; they should've brought more soldiers, regardless of the shortages on Cybertron. He growled softly, remembering the circumstances that had led them to this battle...
“Rodimus Prime, sir! Emergency transmission!” Blaster saluted as Rodimus rushed towards the console, allowing the transmission to feed through. A robot's urgent face, humanoid though far different in appearance than a Transformer's, flashed up on the screen. Rodimus recognised the robot as an Enkian and vaguely recalled having met a few of them during his intergalactic travels.
“This is Dr. Molbane from the Planet Enk. Please, we need your assistance in a very important matter. Am I speaking to Rodimus Prime, leader of the Autobots?”
“Prime here.” Rodimus nodded. “What's the situation, Dr. Molbane?”
“I'll try and relay the events as quickly as possible. A few cycles ago, a civilian brought in a test subject, who attempted to resist capture. We incapacitated him, but his comrades stormed the building where he was being held and rescued him. I-I think they've left Enk, but before that, they... they razed whatever they could. They've caused so much destruction and caused so many deaths, I... I...” The Enkian's voice faltered. “Please, we need you to dispose of these monsters before they return to satisfy their sadistic inhibitions!”
Rodimus and Blaster exchanged an uncomfortable look. As sad as the situation was, they weren't sure that it was a good idea to spare troops to go hunting for a handful of assailants. That, and the doctor seemed like a panicky sort. Rodimus sighed softly.
“What can you tell me about these, uh... monsters?”
“I remember I saw them transform.”
This made both Blaster and Rodimus sit up immediately, alert and listening. “Decepticons?”
“I... yes, I think that's what they were called. They rescued a purple one, one with two horns on his head. They were led by a blue one with wings.”
“Dammit, that's them all right.” Rodimus muttered. “Look, we'll do something about them, Dr. Molbane. Just sit tight, I'll contact you when I'm close to your planet.”
“Thank you, Rodimus Prime. You really are as gracious and merciful as they say.” The doctor, somewhat relieved, disappeared from the screen.
I'm really not, thought Rodimus, feeling a pang of guilt at the fact that he would have refused their request if the attackers had not been Decepticons.
That reminded him – he had to contact the Enkians. Quickly flipping through his memory bank for the transmission frequency Blaster had given him, he sent a brief message: AT THE OUTSKIRTS OF ENK. CURRENTLY ENGAGING DECEPTICON TROOPS. Which led him to wonder why he hadn't been targeted yet.
He knew he had spoken too soon as a beam whizzed past his head, knowing that several more would inevitably follow. He sidestepped them quickly and charged towards the Sweep that had fired the shots, raising his own blaster and pulling the trigger.
*
Amidst the mayhem, Cyclonus made sure that he stayed close to the Decepticon leader, whose fury at being ambushed had driven him to single-handedly take on First Aid, Fireflight and Slingshot. At this point, Ultra Magnus had turned his attention towards Cyclonus, taking calculated swipes at him. “What is your problem anyway, Cyclonus? Attacking innocent townsfolk and destroying half their city?”
“I don't need to explain my actions to you, Autobot scum. But how would you feel if you were separated from Prime?” Cyclonus smirked, managing to kick Magnus in the shin and catching him in a fierce headlock. “It was the same thing. Oh, the agony they put me through... although it's nothing compared to what you'll be feeling when I'm done with you.” Magnus gasped and struggled as a hand inched towards his optics. Next he heard was a loud groan of pain as Cyclonus' grip loosened enough to allow him to wriggle free.
Rodimus was beside him, blaster ready, pulling him away from the Decepticon. “You ok?”
“I'm fine now.” He managed a smile of thanks, scanning the battleground to gauge the progress of the other Autobots. A wave of anxiety settled over him as he realised that unless they were able to tip the battle in their favour, the battle would continue this way for a long time more. Time was something they didn't have. Rodimus must have realised this as well, for they both looked at each other, nervous.
At that moment, Rodimus' transmitter began beeping and he activated it. “Rodimus here.”
“Rodimus Prime, Dr. Molbane here. You're having trouble, I take it? We... we have something you may be able to use to turn the tables. Us scientists have been dabbling in weaponry for the last few months. It's merely a prototype, but... we can offer you a bomb.
A bomb? Rodimus glanced at Magnus, who seemed to weigh up the consequences of using such a weapon in his processor before nodding. After all, they couldn't expect to win wars without taking a few risks.
“We'll take it, doctor.”
“If that is the case, we will transfer the bomb into your possession once you reach our headquarters. I will give you the coordinates.” Taking note of them, Rodimus shouted, “Autobots, follow me!”, pathing his way towards the large building in the middle of the planet, the other Autobots hurrying after him as quickly as they could.
Galvatron let out a loud growl, optics sweeping across his troops. “What are you fools waiting for?! AFTER THEM!” Several of them looked uneasy but obeyed the command nevertheless, leaving Cyclonus and his leader floating a few meters away from them.
“Lord Galvatron, is this a wise decision? I overheard whoever was communicating with Prime mention something about... a bomb?”
Galvatron merely laughed harshly, beginning to ready his thrusters to jet off towards Enk. “Even if they did have that weapon, do you really think they would be foolish enough to use it? They'd take out the population of that city and perhaps even themselves!”
I'm sure they're not THAT foolish, Galvatron, Cyclonus thought rather glumly. Not to mention we know nothing about this bomb. It might be some new technology we've never seen before... “Forgive me, Lord Galvatron, but this might be nothing we've ever encounte-”
But Galvatron, clearly in a good mood, merely pushed him aside while flying past him and laughing. “Cyclonus, Cyclonus. You worry too much. If you're right about this whole bomb thing... you can say 'I Told You So'.”
This left him not knowing what to expect.
*
The Autobots had landed safely in the Enkian capital's town square and began hurrying into the scientists's headquarters. On their way in, they ran past crowds that had gathered to see them land, noticing that their expressions were fearful, a few full of anger and rage. It was small moments like those that made Rodimus hate the Decepticons even more, seeing how they had drawn a peaceful, trusting planet unnecessarily into their feud.
A guard, seeing this unusual party, nodded curtly and marched towards a large hall in the center of the building, the doors sliding open to reveal a round table, several Enkians gathered around. One of them looked up upon hearing the soft clinking of metal hitting gray stone, his mood visibly brightening slightly. Rodimus recognised him as the Enkian he had been keeping in contact with.
“Rodimus Prime and his Autobot warriors. Thank you for coming to our aid.” Molbane bowed his head and the others followed suit.
“Just doing my job.” Rodimus smiled, only to be nudged by Ultra Magnus. He cleared his throat, “So as not to prolong your suffering, please give us the weapon we agreed to use to destroy the Decepticons with.”
“Doesn't mince words, does he?” One muttered, as a small chest was carried out. Keying in a long and complex security code, the lid swung open and Molbane lifted out a simple-looking device with a keypad on its top. It was no larger than a standard energon cube.
“Let me quickly explain. See this keypad? You need to enter a code to activate it. The code is 8812. After that, press 1, and then the number of seconds before the bomb explodes. I should also mention that once you set the bomb, it can't be deactivated. Are these instructions clear?”
Not very articulate for a scientist, is he? Rodimus smirked a little and Magnus elbowed him again.
“Crystal.” He was handed the bomb, eyeing it slowly as he tucked it under his arm. “The only problem that remains is where we're going to detonate this thing without harming your people or causing further destruction...”
“Lead them northwest from here, 300 klicks.” Another Enkian spoke up, pointing in the direction they needed to head in. “There's a canyon there. If the bomb fails to destroy them, the rockslide will.”
“Gotcha. We'll take 'em out, don't worry. This'll be beneficial to both our species.” Rodimus bowed respectfully to the Enkian council and were led out. As soon as they were out of the building, they took to the air, dodging one or two Decepticon shots.
“Gee, what was with that sarcasm?” Ultra Magnus asked, somewhat displeased with his friend's comments earlier.
“Hey, we're about to beat the Decepticons, right? I guess some of my happiness leaked out.”
Magnus sighed. “Don't get too confident, Rodimus.”
“Me? Never.” He laughed, landing and signalling his troops to do so as well. Upon noticing that the Decepticons were about to land and attack them from the ground, he said, ““Alright guys, you know what the plan is,” and quickly keyed in the code Molbane had given him and set the time: thirty seconds.
And what a frantic thirty seconds they were too.
Almost as soon as the Decepticons hit the ground running, most of the Autobots had taken off, with Rodimus remaining to hurriedly bury the bomb under a small pile of rocks. His men made sure no-one had noticed this by keeping them busy, firing wildly at them from almost every direction. Soon, Rodimus followed them and they flew as fast as they could, not wanting to get caught up in the explosion.
Only then did Cyclonus realise the danger they were in. Scourge noticed his sudden distress. “What's wrong, Cyclonus?”
“That damned coward! He's planted a bomb somewhere!” He yelled, causing every Decepticon to scurry and begin scanning the rocky terrain for something made of metal.
“There is no time, you fools!” Galvatron was in the air now, ready to retreat. “We must not-”
And suddenly, there was a flash.
*
Back on Enk, several Enkians sat perched around asystem that had been cobbled together purely for the purpose of assisting the Autobots in their battle. The bomb had detonated successfully, taking the rocky walls surrounding the small, barren battlefield with it.
“No life readings detected, sir.” said one Enkian, throwing down his headset in relief.
“Well done everyone,” said the lead scientist, smiling victoriously. “Well done.”
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Anxiety: Chapter 5, a Transformers fic
Anxiety, Chapter 5. In which they are reunited.
The busy city at the center of the Enkian capital was almost completely ruined.
While not directly causing death to any civilians, eyewitnesses stated that the alien robots that had mysteriously arrived on their planet had destroyed several buildings and monuments, the debris injuring and killing hundreds. They had last been seen, much to everyone's relief, leaving the planet – no doubt to return to wherever they had come from. But grief and sorrow was rife amongst the Enkians, as most had never seen such destruction in their long lives.
No-one knew why those robots had landed on the planet, or how they had been able to do so in the first place. All the Enkians knew that the Peacemaker, the name given to the large shield that hovered over their planet, honing in on and incapacitating anyone and anything that drifted too close,
would have prevented anyone from getting in. Some were beginning to question whether the scientists in charge of the machine were capable of operating it correctly and whether they did in fact need a military service. Others were too concerned with their own wellbeing to ponder such cynical thoughts.
The scientists, however, had realised. The horrible truth was that they were incompetent. Having been so excited about having captured a live, rare specimen, no one had taken any notice of the fact that he had slammed himself roughly into the Peacemaker's control panel, disabling it. And as for why they were here, it was obvious. They were his loyal comrades, the one the Decepticon had talked about when he was cornered.
They scurried about what had once been their haven, full of knowledge and data about the strange things they had encountered. But it was gone now, most of it charred and inaccessible. But most importantly to them at that moment, the console that controlled the Peacemaker has been completely destroyed. It was marked now by a hole that had been melted around the edges, no doubt the result of a high-energy beam being at it. The scientists stared at it as despair began to set in. But of course, there was one solution left...
Somewhere else in the capital, Foll sat at his workbench, head buried in his hands.
---
Without a doubt, the successful locating and rescuing of Cyclonus had given the Decepticon a considerable boost in morale. Everyone was much more jovial and lively than they had previously been, but Cyclonus remained quiet, having barely said two words since they had left Enk. Scourge noticed this and fell back to fly beside him, meaning to have a quick word. “Are you alright?”
Cyclonus smirked slightly. “It's not like you to ask that kind of thing.”
“I'm just concerned. Concerned for a friend.” Scourge shrugged, as though his words were the most casual in the galaxy. Yet deep inside he had meant this sincerely, and was relieved when something flashed in Cyclonus's optics. Somehow, he knew that this meant he was truly grateful.
“Lord Galvatron!” Someone exclaimed, and the group stopped, assembling themselves around Cyclonus as though they were presenting him. Cyclonus saluted as Galvatron stood before him, accompanied by the Constructicons. He opened his mouth, trying to find the right words to use to greet the leader with, but was cut short by a crude bark.
“You FOOL! You thought you could take your time!?”
Cyclonus winced, expecting a painful blow. Yet it never came, and he could suddenly see something about Galvatron's manner that he would never expect anyone else to. It wasn't like Galvatron to pass up the opportunity to inflict a violent blow upon his troops, let alone meet up with one who had gone missing for a few cycles upon his rescue. He himself could scarcely believe it, but there was only one logical conclusion he was able to draw from this: Galvatron had missed him. And there was something about this that made Cyclonus indescribably happy, that made the corners of his mouth twitch into a small smile. He had meant for it to be a very quick smile, one that no-one else would be able to catch, but Galvatron certainly did, for he shouted: “What are you grinning about?!”
“N-nothing of course, Lord Galvatron!”
“Laughing at the inconvenience you put me through?!”
Galvatron looks as though he's about to bust a gear, thought Scourge, but was relieved at the reunion between the two. He knew it was something that everyone would welcome, something that would mean an improvement in Galvatron's mood, no matter how slight. But then at that moment, he saw something approaching them at a high speed. Adjusting his optics, he realised what it was.
“Autobot troops!” He shouted, immediately scrambling to draw his blaster.
“What?! How did they know of our position?” Galvatron fired a few shots into the advancing convoy, before giving a yell and charging into them headfirst. The remainder of the Decepticons glanced at each other for a moment, the same thought passing through all of them: He's slaggin' crazy. They turned to Cyclonus, seeking guidance from someone with sanity hardcoded into him.
Perhaps he was still somewhat shaken from his experience with the Enkians, but there was something odd about the way his comrades looked at him, as though his absence had made them appreciate him so much more. So when he raised his arm, pointing them towards their enemies, he felt proud, mighty, and most of all, like he could do anything. “Decepticons, charge!”
And as they did so, rushing forward, weapons and fists at ready, Scourge eyed his fellow Lieutenant as he jetted by, as though trying to say Yeah... I'm really glad you're back.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Pit Stop, a Silent Hill: Homecoming fanfic
Title: Pit Stop
Summary: It's just payment.
Rating: M
Pairing: Travis/Alex
Warnings: Slash, kind of but not really graphic porn.
Disclaimer: Silent Hill is not mine because I am a complete and utter pansy.
---
BUT FIRST, A NOTE.
Today I received a review from la-raton, in which I was informed that fanart had been drawn based on that one fanfic I wrote about Alex and Travis and, um, payment for his truck drive to Shepherd's Glen.
I really, really like it, especially since it's not SPARKLY KAWAII MOEMOE ANIMU bullshit. Again, thank you la-raton!
----
Maybe he should have known that he wouldn't be able to rely on the kindness of strangers alone. Or maybe he had been taking it for granted, especially after something as horrible as war.
He had walked for about half an hour before deciding it would be far easier to flag down the truck that was pulling past. The driver, kind enough, allowed him to hop in.
A few words of good nature were exchanged, such as, “Where are you going? You a soldier? How long have you been away from home?” Alex answered them all, and thought that he rather liked this driver with his gruff laugh and coarse hands.
It was a good three or four hours later, when Travis had stopped the truck at a small diner that those hands were wrapped firmly around his hips. It's just payment, Alex thought, yet he was perfectly willing as the trucker gave a throaty murmur of, “You've got a pretty mouth, boy,” his breath reeking of something alcoholic.
Those hands weren't so unpleasant either, as they snaked past briefs to fondle that thing – that thing Alex hadn't touched or even thought about for a long time, because it sure as hell wasn't as important as preserving one's own life.
Well, that's what he would think in any situation, except for this one.
And as though to remind him that: “Easy soldier, I'm no fairytale princess” - Travis pulled Alex's pants down in one swift movement, leaving bare skin and sensitive organs exposed to the cold, ready to swell at his discretion.
Maybe this was a common occurrence for the trucker, or maybe he was just constantly counting his lucky stars, because the older man suddenly pulled out a tiny foil packet and a bottle of lube. “Relax, kid, and keep your eyes on the prize.”
Somehow, this made Alex inclined to focus his eyesight on his own reflection on the hood of the truck, barely visible thanks to the poor lighting of this desolate place. Then he was pushed roughly and he could feel something inside him, something that didn't feel bad, but still felt weird. It rubbed against his insides insistently.
Travis made no attempt to silence himself, instead grunting “Yeah” every few thrusts, which were deep and fast and -
Kinda like a gun... a pump-action, or a recoil, or
And he suddenly felt that weird something twitch, like that of a gun firing.
Then there was Travis, lying heavily against him, somewhat crushing his ribs, pulling out and tossing the condom somewhere.
“Pit stop's over, soldier. Get your gear on and let's move.”
END
A/N: But you shouldn't drink and drive!
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Monday Morning, a Professor Layton fic
Title: Monday Morning Monday morning, good weather.
Luke's trip to the bakery for breakfast was uneventful but full of familiar faces. Well, the only thing he felt a tad guilty for was running away from that old lady who always pinched his cheeks. He knew that if the Professor ever found out, he would berate him but really, he couldn't stand those wrinkly fingers at all.
He was gleeful nonetheless, for it was a holiday. Munching on a chocolate croissant he skipped up to the door of the home he shared with the Professor. He stopped dead, however, when he heard an odd banging sound. The Professor's in trouble! was his first thought, and he was ready to charge in and (try to, at least) fight off the assailant. But then he heard a low moan, one of... enjoyment.
The situation was getting curiouser.
Luke tiptoed as quietly as he could around to the back, crawling under the kitchen window. Those noises were getting louder, and he could make out a: “You're doing really well, Layton.” How strange...
The noises seemed to be coming from the Professor's office and Luke continued crawling until he made it to the window looking in. Standing up on tiptoe, he peered in, a most bizarre sight reaching his innocent eyes.
Firstly, he wondered why the Professor wasn't wearing any pants at all, and why Inspector Chelmey was in the room too, standing so close behind in. After all, he couldn't think of any sort of game where two people had to bang their hips and buttocks into each other. Was it a rule of the game to see who could do it faster? Because if it was, judging by Chelmey's energetic performance he would have won.
Suddenly, Luke realised. He remembered a biology book he had read once in the library – something about 'reproduction'. Or rather, 'sex'. B-but Chelmey isn't a woman, and neither is the Professor... so why are they doing this?
A sudden shout caused him to almost jump in fright, but he gritted his teeth. Instead he kept watching as Chelmey took something out of the Professor's and zipped up his pants. “You really are the best, Layton,” Chelmey laughed, turning on his heel and leaving the room. A few seconds later, Luke heard the front door open and close again. Then he heard the Professor sigh softly, staggering out of the room while carrying his pants.
Luke ran quickly back to the front door, debating what to do. I suppose it would be better to pretend I never saw that, he reasoned, entering the house and chirping, “Professor, I've brought breakfast!”
“Ah, thank you, my boy.” Layton appeared, face still slightly flushed. “Let's eat, shall we?”
“Yes!” He watched as the Professor tipped the bag full of assorted pastries onto a plate, but could see the uneasiness in his eyes.
The Professor knew Luke knew.
But neither of them really understood what the events of Monday morning had meant.
END
Summary: Luke sees something strange.
Rating: M
Pairing: Chelmey/Layton
Warnings: Slash, porn.
Disclaimer: Level-5's.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Anxiety: Chapter 4, a Transformers fic
Anxiety, Chapter 4. In which Scourge goes off to find Cyclonus.
Back on Chaar, lava swirled and tempers were high as one of the Sweeps gave his earth-hourly report on Cyclonus's whereabouts. Or rather, his unknown whereabouts.
Galvatron's scowl grew heavier as the Sweep stuttered. “Th-there's still no trace of C-Cyclonus. P-perhaps it might be better for the troops to, uh, um... attempt a scouting mission of that planet? The planet that he landed on, I mean. We should do that and rescue him when h-he's located.”
Without even stopping to administer a brutal beating (although the Sweep was pushed roughly out of the way so that he could make eye contact with Scourge), Galvatron barked, “Gather up your Sweeps and find the Combaticons! I want him back before the stellar cycle is over!”
Once they had saluted and were out of earshot, the Sweep who had reported their supposed 'failure' muttered: “Why is Cyclonus so important, anyway? Even if anything happens to him, can't Galvatron just replace him with you?”
It wasn't really something Scourge had thought about. He couldn't imagine being what Cyclonus was – a diplomatic Decepticon who could stay loyal to his leader while appealing to the remainder of the troops. It was something Scourge admired him for, really. Moreover, he had never imagined a life without Cyclonus, without their little jokes and disagreements. They were more than fellow soldiers fighting for a greater cause; they were friends. Besides, if Cyclonus was gone, wouldn't that mean double the beatings for him?
“Well... it's probably not nearly so simple,” He finally answered. “It's like this. Galvatron can't lose Cyclonus, because Cyclonus is a born supporter. He has the enthusiasm. I have significantly less than he does. And he's like a mouthpiece for everything Lord Galvatron wishes to communicate to us, without all the unnecessary violence. I suppose Galvatron needs Cyclonus to keep us in check.”
“... Hmm.” The Sweep looked like he was deep in thought. “That's all?”
“It's more important than that. I guess Cyclonus's devotion is something we'll never understand either.”
As though the Sweep had a brainwave, his optics lit up. “And it's not like Galvatron is a bad-looking 'Con either.”
Scourge slapped the Sweep over the head. “We will not rumour-monger any further. Assemble the remainder of the Sweeps and I'll find the Combaticons.”
*
A few moments later, a party made of Scourge, the Sweeps, and the Combaticons hovered at a safe distance away from Enk, which they stared at cautiously. Scourge recalled that there had been a strange green mist covering the planet the last time they were here, the same mist that had turned into a twister and sucked Cyclonus down. He had since developed a theory that the mist was in fact, a sort of gaseous shield to protect the citizens of Enk from enemy troops and forces, which led Scourge to wonder if Cyclonus had been captured or whether he had been terminated.
He certainly hoped that it was not the latter.
“Come on, let's go.”
“Shouldn't we shut down their defense systems first?” Onslaught asked with warning in his voice, holding the other Combaticons back.
“Oh, trust me... I think it's already been done.” Without another word, Scourge swooped downwards, the Sweeps following. With a sigh and a mumble of: “Don't blame me if you get turned to scrap,” from Onslaught, so did the Combaticons.
There was little they could do to prevent a sighting by any of the world's inhabitants, but it wasn't as though subtlety was their strong point anyway. Strange-looking beings in the square below were staring at them, some pointing, some looking slightly fearful. Landing in what seemed to be the capital, judging by the number of people that kept their distance from them, Scourge spoke.
“I am looking for one of our kind. Surely one of you must have seen him? He looks nothing like any of you.”
Silence, and as Scourge bent down to take a closer look at the beings, he realised none of them were capable of lying.
“Then tell me, what do you do with your intruders? Do you jail them? Terminate them? Because if you terminate them...” He trailed off, drawing his blaster, accentuating the point he was trying to make. But of course, these beings were smart. One of them was pushed out of the crowd in front of the Decepticon party, clearly frightened in the presence of alien beings that were prepared to use lethal force to get their answers.
“I-if it's one of your kind that you're looking for... you should probably try the labs, here in the city. They've probably taken him in for, uh, testing. I don't think your friend is dead though!” He squeaked suddenly, cowering slightly as Scourge's blaster hand made a sudden movement, although it was just so he could sheathe his weapon, laughing.
“Relax. We don't have any intention of harming you. Do we?” Scourge turned to his Decepticon party. They all smirked.
“Not yet,” said Brawl.
“As long as you,” Scourge turned towards the Enkian who had answered their question. “Do as we say. Lead us to these labs.”
The Enkian cast a worried look at his peers, who nodded, some of them waving him on frantically. He also realised that although the robot that seemed to be the leader of the group had put his weapon away, the rest of them had drawn theirs. With a whimper, he did as he was told.
*
The guards had been a pushover, not to mention that they were easily (and amusingly) confused by the Decepticon's sudden transformations into their alternate modes. Not to mention the sheer size of Bruticus almost immediately made them drop their weapons and surrender. “Pathetic excuses for 'guards', wouldn't you agree?” sneered Swindle as he pushed the guard they had taken prisoner forwards, forcing him to speed up his pace.
“I doubt any of them have had formal training.” The Enkian citizen they had used to reach the labs had turned tail as soon as Scourge pulled the trigger on his blaster. Of course, they let him run: “See if anyone's brave enough to retaliate against us,” Onslaught grinned menacingly.
The guard had eventually stumbled to the room where they would apparently find Cyclonus – a testing lab on the eighth floor of the complex. Shoving him roughly out of the way, the Decepticons walked in. It must have been after-hours or a break time, as there was no-one present. No life-forms, except for one that lay on the table, completely immobilised.
Scourge shouldn't have been surprised to see Cyclonus strapped to the table, but something about the scene chilled his circuitry to the spark. Various painful-looking devices lay scattered on a tray beside him along with towers of metal discs.
“Cyclonus!” he rushed over, waving his hand to signal to the Combaticons that they should stay by the entrance of the room and keep watch. Cyclonus emitted a low buzzing noise as Scourge shook him. He noticed that there were wires plugged into him that led to a large generator of some sort. Ripping them out hastily, he deduced that whoever was 'researching' him had been overloading the Decepticon's circuitry, keeping him in a semi-conscious state. The nerve of them... I swear that by the time I'm through with them, they'll-
“S... Scourge?”
Thank Unicron, Scourge thought, nodding in affirmative. “It's me, Cyclonus. We've got you covered.” Seemingly out of nowhere, he produced a large block of energon. “I thought you'd need this.” Watching Cyclonus nod somewhat eagerly and devour the energon, Scourge felt something that seemed to be pride well up inside of him. Galvatron was right. He really is strong.
After energising himself and testing to see that the Enkians hadn't tampered with him any further, he was back to his old self again. “Lord Galvatron will not be pleased with my prolonged absence. We must return immediately!”
“Whoa, hang on.” Scourge eyed him with concern. “I know you're eager to get back to Galvatron, but what did they do to you? What happened after that tornado got you?”
“I...” Cyclonus rubbed his previously injured shoulder thoughtfully. “I crash-landed and was found by one of the denizens of this planet. His attempts at restoring me to my fully-powered state were feeble, so I ordered him to bring me here.”
“The slag! He knew this would happen to you!” Bruticus growled menacingly, slamming his fist into his open palm.
“I doubt he did. His cranial chamber seemed fairly empty.” For the first time since he had woken up, Cyclonus smirked a little and gestured for one of the Sweeps to hand him his confiscated blaster. “Before we leave... I want to pay them back.” With that, Cyclonus fired several shots into different areas of the lab, destroying several machines and pieces of equipment. Laughing and nodding at his fellow Decepticons, they left the facility, debris in a trail behind them.
