Tendrils of Destiny 2/?
Posted: Fri Oct 17, 2003 2:43 pm
Disclaimer: The swirls of imagination lick my mind gently coaxing forth an image. What is this? Who am I? Why why is it being taken away? Pity me for I know not that it is not being taken away but that I never had it in the first place. I never did? Alright, in short, crass terms, I do not own Gundam Wing, nor do I own the concept of spice, which was created by Frank Herbert, and Dream Fluid, which was created by Alastair Reynolds.
Warnings: Slight gore, dark atmosphere (i think)
Rating: PG13
Tendrils of Destiny: Chapter 2
The bullet entered the left side of his brain. Darkness came, and it stayed, but there was no peace. He fell into the darkness and it consumed him, but there was no peace. He was still alive. Why didn't it all just end there? Why not before? Why not now? Why so much later did he have to exist?
* * * *
Heero opened his eyes to shadows. Light filtered through the slits in the heavy, crimson curtain, and he knew it was morning. Relena?
Somehow, her name was always on the tip of his tongue when he awoke. She was always there, and he hated her for it. He hated her because he loved her. There was no denial; his soldier's mind forced the fact upon him. So, in order not to be consumed by the love, he matched it with his own hatred.
That was why it had hurt him when she had not acknowledged his presence.
He had been informed of her visit by eavesdropping. "Coming for a few days?business?in a fortnight?" It was always easy to find information by listening to others, though, in this case, Heero had the distinct feeling he was not supposed to have been informed of her arrival.
So he waited for her to come. He looked forward to and dreaded the meeting with a passion that only a soldier could feel toward a battle with an enemy. And when they clashed, she had done nothing. As she stood in the doorway, her gaze had passed over him like he was just another servant. The powerful, curious light that always shown in her eyes for him had not existed when they beheld him. It had only existed when she looked at the other man, standing just to her right.
Donald? He thought in a jealous rage. The other man, he knew, was a politician, like Relena, and he fought for peace along side her. Heero could not have known the rumors that were spreading about that woman and that man, that they would soon be announcing their engagement, that she would run for president and he would support her, that their children would be beautiful.
Surely she could not have forgotten. Nearly a year had passed since they had last beheld each other, but still, she had never forgotten him before. For some reason, this thought caused a deep, pulsing pain to flow upward from his abdomen and spread like ice through his senses. Surely she would not have forgotten about him? A soldier's existence is only to fight their enemy, but can an enemy be considered so if they have forgotten the battle itself?
* * * *
"I have heard a few rumors about Nature, though nothing substantial."
Heero stood silent, his dark face cast with the faint hues emitted by the Vidlink. "I have no new information, Maxwell."
"Yeah, well, I guess not, considering I actually am the one to have skill over here. I happen to be doing something with my life, buddy. What about you?" The voice, cast in both light, teasing tones and deep, concerned tones washed over the man, robotic in their reproduction.
"What information did you find?" he asked.
Duo sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Why do I even bother??" Heero scowled, shooting the man a glare. Duo coughed and continued. "Well, it seems there's been some rumors flying around L3 about an organization. Apparently, they're linked with some sort of medical facility located in L3. They're doing something with, dunno, maybe drugs? The facts are all fogged up in the rumors, but that's all I can cook up. Why don't you ask Trowa about it? He ought to have some idea, since he still lives there."
"Fine. 01 logging out."
"See ya!"
The Vidlink went blank, engulfing Heero in darkness.
* * * *
Heero passed through the hallway, slipping silently in the shadows like some black wraith that had just been awoken from death. He had heard them speaking, alone together in one room. The grandfather clock stuck once, echoing the dark hour abroad through the house.
"He frightens me," Relena murmured. "He looks at me like I should do something but?"
Heero stopped in the darkness, his face drawn and pale.
"I heard him laughing in his sleep last night?maniacal?frightening?"
The deep rumble of a man's voice rolled forth in soothing tones. Heero could not distinguish the words; he didn't have to. He knew what would happen next, the sweet noises of love that would spill softy forth from the occupants of the room. He stood outside of Quatre and Dorothy's room frequently enough to understand that part, though not why the action should take place.
A bitter pang of hatred and jealousy passed through his body. He opened the door slowly, casting only a faint gray on the occupants. The muzzle of his gun rested, trembling, against the doorframe. Heero wondered faintly when his body had begun to shake. The deep, steady hum throbbed painfully in his head. No other sound was detectable, not even the short, sharp shot of the gun clenched tightly in his hand. Even through the noise, though, he could smell the bitter odor of gunpowder mixed with the musky, sweet scent that engulfed the room.
Heero watched, somehow unsatisfied, as the man's naked torso, white in the darkness, spouted the crimson of life. The red spurted, ran free, and yet the fulfillment of conquest did not meet him. The throbbing pulse quickened, pounding loudly in his ears.
"NO!" Relena's scream snapped him out of his suspended state. She clutched at the now dead man's body, her eyes wide in shock. They were dark, brown in this light; they were wrong.
"No!" she cried again, before beginning to sob violently. She rocked back and forth, clutching the corpse close to her chest, her white nightgown becoming stained in his crimson blood.
A short, sharp click interrupted her steady rocking, and the woman's eyes focused on the muzzle of the gun, now under a foot away from her head.
"Who are you?" he growled.
Slowly, Relena's jaw worked to form words, but her response was swallowed. It never came. Instead, she dropped her head down into the dead man's dark hair and took a pained breath, trying to bring life back to his lifeless form.
"Who are you?" Heero growled again. The cold metal of his weapon rested against the back of her head. The sensation tickled the sensitive skin there. She giggled.
"Not her?" Relena's choking giggles erupted into pained laughter as she resumed her rocking. "?never will be?just, just a dream?wanted to tell you?not her?" The woman did not seem to notice the deadly weapon aimed so close as she continued her steady motion, laughing in rhythm with her movements. It was unnatural.
"Where is she?" he whispered, somehow afraid of the answer.
The woman smiled against the skin of the dead man's neck. "?so sick?03 knows?so sick?" She pulled the corpse's head back and smoothed the thick hair, smiling into the dead eyes and leaning forward to kiss his still warm lips. "But you'll be better soon. I know you will. You'll come back and we'll marry and have children and live on Earth?near the Redwoods. Our children will know what Earth, nature is like?beautiful plants and animals?"
"You have five minutes before I call the police," Quatre said softly from the doorframe. "Five minutes, no more."
Heero scowled, his face drawn in pain. He nodded, turning to step through the doorway, the darkness of the hall consuming his form before he even entered it.
To be continued...
Well, that was interesting. Poor Donald, no real part whatsoever. He didn't even really have dialogue! Confused? I shall clear things up later if you are.
Please, R&R!
And, the first part was inspired by this book i read a long, long time ago...so i don't remember the name. Whatever...
Warnings: Slight gore, dark atmosphere (i think)
Rating: PG13
Tendrils of Destiny: Chapter 2
The bullet entered the left side of his brain. Darkness came, and it stayed, but there was no peace. He fell into the darkness and it consumed him, but there was no peace. He was still alive. Why didn't it all just end there? Why not before? Why not now? Why so much later did he have to exist?
* * * *
Heero opened his eyes to shadows. Light filtered through the slits in the heavy, crimson curtain, and he knew it was morning. Relena?
Somehow, her name was always on the tip of his tongue when he awoke. She was always there, and he hated her for it. He hated her because he loved her. There was no denial; his soldier's mind forced the fact upon him. So, in order not to be consumed by the love, he matched it with his own hatred.
That was why it had hurt him when she had not acknowledged his presence.
He had been informed of her visit by eavesdropping. "Coming for a few days?business?in a fortnight?" It was always easy to find information by listening to others, though, in this case, Heero had the distinct feeling he was not supposed to have been informed of her arrival.
So he waited for her to come. He looked forward to and dreaded the meeting with a passion that only a soldier could feel toward a battle with an enemy. And when they clashed, she had done nothing. As she stood in the doorway, her gaze had passed over him like he was just another servant. The powerful, curious light that always shown in her eyes for him had not existed when they beheld him. It had only existed when she looked at the other man, standing just to her right.
Donald? He thought in a jealous rage. The other man, he knew, was a politician, like Relena, and he fought for peace along side her. Heero could not have known the rumors that were spreading about that woman and that man, that they would soon be announcing their engagement, that she would run for president and he would support her, that their children would be beautiful.
Surely she could not have forgotten. Nearly a year had passed since they had last beheld each other, but still, she had never forgotten him before. For some reason, this thought caused a deep, pulsing pain to flow upward from his abdomen and spread like ice through his senses. Surely she would not have forgotten about him? A soldier's existence is only to fight their enemy, but can an enemy be considered so if they have forgotten the battle itself?
* * * *
"I have heard a few rumors about Nature, though nothing substantial."
Heero stood silent, his dark face cast with the faint hues emitted by the Vidlink. "I have no new information, Maxwell."
"Yeah, well, I guess not, considering I actually am the one to have skill over here. I happen to be doing something with my life, buddy. What about you?" The voice, cast in both light, teasing tones and deep, concerned tones washed over the man, robotic in their reproduction.
"What information did you find?" he asked.
Duo sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Why do I even bother??" Heero scowled, shooting the man a glare. Duo coughed and continued. "Well, it seems there's been some rumors flying around L3 about an organization. Apparently, they're linked with some sort of medical facility located in L3. They're doing something with, dunno, maybe drugs? The facts are all fogged up in the rumors, but that's all I can cook up. Why don't you ask Trowa about it? He ought to have some idea, since he still lives there."
"Fine. 01 logging out."
"See ya!"
The Vidlink went blank, engulfing Heero in darkness.
* * * *
Heero passed through the hallway, slipping silently in the shadows like some black wraith that had just been awoken from death. He had heard them speaking, alone together in one room. The grandfather clock stuck once, echoing the dark hour abroad through the house.
"He frightens me," Relena murmured. "He looks at me like I should do something but?"
Heero stopped in the darkness, his face drawn and pale.
"I heard him laughing in his sleep last night?maniacal?frightening?"
The deep rumble of a man's voice rolled forth in soothing tones. Heero could not distinguish the words; he didn't have to. He knew what would happen next, the sweet noises of love that would spill softy forth from the occupants of the room. He stood outside of Quatre and Dorothy's room frequently enough to understand that part, though not why the action should take place.
A bitter pang of hatred and jealousy passed through his body. He opened the door slowly, casting only a faint gray on the occupants. The muzzle of his gun rested, trembling, against the doorframe. Heero wondered faintly when his body had begun to shake. The deep, steady hum throbbed painfully in his head. No other sound was detectable, not even the short, sharp shot of the gun clenched tightly in his hand. Even through the noise, though, he could smell the bitter odor of gunpowder mixed with the musky, sweet scent that engulfed the room.
Heero watched, somehow unsatisfied, as the man's naked torso, white in the darkness, spouted the crimson of life. The red spurted, ran free, and yet the fulfillment of conquest did not meet him. The throbbing pulse quickened, pounding loudly in his ears.
"NO!" Relena's scream snapped him out of his suspended state. She clutched at the now dead man's body, her eyes wide in shock. They were dark, brown in this light; they were wrong.
"No!" she cried again, before beginning to sob violently. She rocked back and forth, clutching the corpse close to her chest, her white nightgown becoming stained in his crimson blood.
A short, sharp click interrupted her steady rocking, and the woman's eyes focused on the muzzle of the gun, now under a foot away from her head.
"Who are you?" he growled.
Slowly, Relena's jaw worked to form words, but her response was swallowed. It never came. Instead, she dropped her head down into the dead man's dark hair and took a pained breath, trying to bring life back to his lifeless form.
"Who are you?" Heero growled again. The cold metal of his weapon rested against the back of her head. The sensation tickled the sensitive skin there. She giggled.
"Not her?" Relena's choking giggles erupted into pained laughter as she resumed her rocking. "?never will be?just, just a dream?wanted to tell you?not her?" The woman did not seem to notice the deadly weapon aimed so close as she continued her steady motion, laughing in rhythm with her movements. It was unnatural.
"Where is she?" he whispered, somehow afraid of the answer.
The woman smiled against the skin of the dead man's neck. "?so sick?03 knows?so sick?" She pulled the corpse's head back and smoothed the thick hair, smiling into the dead eyes and leaning forward to kiss his still warm lips. "But you'll be better soon. I know you will. You'll come back and we'll marry and have children and live on Earth?near the Redwoods. Our children will know what Earth, nature is like?beautiful plants and animals?"
"You have five minutes before I call the police," Quatre said softly from the doorframe. "Five minutes, no more."
Heero scowled, his face drawn in pain. He nodded, turning to step through the doorway, the darkness of the hall consuming his form before he even entered it.
To be continued...
Well, that was interesting. Poor Donald, no real part whatsoever. He didn't even really have dialogue! Confused? I shall clear things up later if you are.
Please, R&R!
And, the first part was inspired by this book i read a long, long time ago...so i don't remember the name. Whatever...
OMG..... I am so confused....