Title: Broken
Song: None
Author: Crystal Lit Moon
Summary: 71 of the 100 Challenge. MC/P-"She demands everything from all who associate with her: her Talons, her servants, and in this case, her obsession." A conversation about Cyclonis' most recent defeat.
Words: 1,218
Pairing(s): MC/P, DA/MC, but latter is only ever so slightly implied.
Long speech to begin...NOW.
WHO SAW THE NEW EPISODE?! IF YOU HAVEN'T, GO SEE IT NOW! THERE BE A LINK ON MY PROFILE!! GO, GO, GO, GO!! Not only was it hilarious, as all the episodes are, it has officially confirmed all my suspicions of MC/Piper. For the first time in my young life, I have seen two things in a cartoon show: One, a woman eating cake off of another woman, (wow...) and some real contact fighting. And I don't mean bitchy slaps and hair pulling, I mean, "Straddle me!!" with, "The other person's neck between my legs, OMG!" That was just...hot. There ain't no other word for it, peeps. But the true tragedy is that the mainstream will not accept a cartoon aimed at teenagers to have a lesbian pairing, so the makers will probably end up throwing Piper and Aerrow together and call it a day. NO!
So now that I'm done ranting, here's the third story in my 100 Challenge. For more on the challenge, go to my profile. Please?
With relinquished suspicions and a new writing style in hand, I officially will begin to dabble in yuri. I KNOW! I SAID I WOULDN'T!! BUT I'M A HYPOCRITE! It ain't even the tiniest lemon. It's emotional. Get it? Get it? Not really? I don't care. Read.
Dust blew up around their feet in minuscule storms, churned by electricity from buzzing weapons and fast moving feet.
He was grunting with effort, while she seemed to bear her exhaustion silently, with gritted teeth and taut muscles. Finally, with a yell and a blast, she had him pinned to the wall with a purple charge. He crumpled to the floor, shook his head, and pulled himself up again. "Two to zip," he grumbled.
"Are you sure you're not going easy on me?" was her only response, and a bitter one at that. He'd promised he wouldn't beforehand.
"Positive." A trickle of blood ran down the steel of his headpiece and onto his neck. She eyed it with nonchalance and leaned against the sparring arena railing. Cyclonis is sporting a few fresh bruises herself, the majority coming from those giant hulks of men attempting to pin her down. Lucky for her, the Dark Ace touched down just as the Storm Hawks took off, arriving in time to knock them away. Once again, diving between her and a larger force they both knew she couldn't handle alone. Because she's more frail than anyone dares admit. She even doubted him, for a moment, his wiry frame against those human cannonballs. But his way of fighting trumps their disorganized swings and throws. He's a very methodical soldier, come to think of it.
But not so much as she.
"You seem to be losing your touch. And not just against that Storm Hawk." Her claw-like staff retracted and she set it down on the ground beside her. A light smirk made her features turn upwards. "Losing to a girl, too? And a sixteen year old one at that, tut-tut."
He wanted to throw out some zesty rebuke about how she wasn't exactly pawning Piper every time they met, either, but that wouldn't be prudent. Instead, the Dark Ace frowned, hoping that would be enough to silence her. But Cyclonis was far from done.
"Getting old, perhaps? Need me to draft up a pension plan for you?" she drawled. He was either going to admit that he'd been going easy, or that he was aging. Knowing him, he was going to choose...
"Fine. Perhaps I held back...a little." He glared daggers. "But we're talking about you, here. They'd have my head if I did something to you."
"They being...?" She waved a pale hand in small circles in the air.
"The Talons."
She let out a dry laugh. "Please. They'd probably make you their hero and drink booze late into the night." Her voice turned tart. "No one would miss me if I died." It was his turn to laugh dryly, but he skipped it out of reverence. And perhaps a tinge of sympathy for his Master. Sheathing his sword, then walking over with a thoughtful look on his face, the Dark Ace relinquished his hold on a smile. It fell off of his face and into the dust.
"Some would."
"Some being you, and you're hardly a crowd, are you?" she snarled. Regretting it, her volume diminished, and she plopped to the floor most uncharacteristically. He sat down as well, his legs giving out, (and because it's an unwritten rule you shouldn't stand over your Master if you can avoid it,) more dust rising and pricking their noses.
"You are the greatest ruler to ever sit on the throne of Cyclonia, and don't you forget that." I sound like an older brother, he groaned inwardly. "And the youngest, as well. I'd say quite a few would miss you. Those Talons don't count." He threw the word "Talons" away as if it were garbage. She tilted her head in a surprised manner and raised her dark eyebrows.
"Dark Ace, you are getting soft, aren't you?" she said, but it was in a good-natured manner. "No, I doubt I'm that great. Can't even crush a girl two years my junior. She seems so soft, so...so permeable, but she's not. Every fuckin' time, she just slips away."
He was surprised to hear her curse, but not overly so. It was about time she let a little emotion slide out of her. Then, in another burst of predictable teenager behavior, she turned towards him and asked a silly question. "Do I fight like a girl?"
Dark Ace tilted his head up and chortled, a short burst of chocking laughter, that made her lean away in amusement. After he collected himself and looked a little more respectful, he shook his head. "No. Anything but."
She propped her chin against her hand and sighed. "Good." Shaking her head, she mumbled, "She's mine. That girl is mine. You know, for the first time, we had some real contact fighting? No silly weapons getting in the way." At this, he leaned towards her, brow furrowed; but she wasn't looking at him, she wasn't noticing the horrified expression he had on. "Just the feel of her body in my hands..." She snarled at herself. "...I was this close to crushing her. Making her submit entirely."
He's noticed her obsession with the girl. It scares him and disappoints him. But now, he's looking at her with a mix of revulsion and sympathy...No. This has transgressed sympathy, it's turned to pity. Revulsion and pity. And perhaps even some empathy, because there are moments he knows how she feels. The pain of being so close, yet so far from a person you want to know better. A person you can't bring yourself to hate, yet can't bring yourself to love, either.
A sigh from him brings a glance from her, even a small pat on the arm. He shudders.
"I'll get her eventually," she murmurs, more to herself than anyone. She did not sound convinced, though. She sounded as if she knew that Piper would continue to evade, to be terrified and angry towards her, to treat her as an enemy, and nothing more. The Dark Ace thinks that she wants Piper as a pet, but Cyclonis wants...needs...more. She demands everything from all who associate with her: her Talons, her servants, and in this case, her obsession. "No one is untouchable," she continues, in the same uncertain way.
"Even you?" But he says it in such a manner that points to sarcasm. She catches it, and yet, does not frown. Just keeps her face straight and looks at him with all the more intensity. Her torso swivels as she leans towards him even more and smiles.
"Even me."
She's not serious; they both know it.
Looking at each other, they each saw something break behind the other's eyes. Splinter beyond repair. For her, it was the thought that maybe, one day, she could have that girl to herself, feel her skin touch hers beyond just meaningless fighting, and have something worth having happen between them. For him, it was the futile hope he was barely clinging to in the first place that his initial thoughts were wrong; that maybe the Master was not just a girl who became a woman far too soon, with a soul of steel and a heart incapable of love.
Turns out, she was wrong and he was right. But they weren't talking about the same thing.
The broken pieces of broken hopes lay on the dust ground of the sparring arena when the two Cyclonian commanders stood and left. Lay on the ground beside a smile and a dot of blood. Beside crystal powder and sweat. What was left without those slabs of everything?
The final pieces of floating, golden particles drifted to the ground. Buried the secrets and hid them there.
To resurface when they were needed most of all.
Tada! Review, but do not bash, because I am a basher basher. That is all.