Rating: PG-13 (?)
Characters: Krasivyi, Scorpius
Concept: Keeping secrets/bad slash.
Summary: Uber bad, done-for-the-lulz Kras/Scorp fic made very (VERY) late at night because a certain person I liek moar than mudkips went 'SCORP/KRASI. NAO!' when I mentioned being so bored I was considering writing bad fan fiction. No sexing or EXTREME BLOODY GORY violence, sadly – this is actually kind of… fluffy, in a weird way. And I won't tell you about the actual story, because, hey – it'd be extremely cheesy if I tried to sum it up. I'll let you read it instead!
Setting: Atlas Park in Paragon, December 12th, 2008, 2:30 PM.
Side notes: This is NOT canon in the least bit. I'm quite sure no members of the VoPC would dare do that to Scorp, and I'm quite sure he wouldn't react like he does here if they did. And if you don't know the characters, shit sucks, because I'm not going to describe every last detail of both of them, just ones I see as vital to the story. That is all.
Scorpius couldn't help but feel a bit irritated. … Alright, maybe more than a bit irritated. He was livid – absolutely furious, in a state of pure outrage… well; you get the idea, of course. It started as a 'harmless' little jest while he was out completing missions with the Arbiter Death and some others from the Villains of Paragon City – a joke about how he needed a woman in his life despite asexuality, which led to another joke about setting him up on a nice little blind date to help him out with that… and, god only knows how, it turned into a serious "Okay, meet her at this place, at this time. She said she'll be wearing this so you'll know it's her" situation, which brought him to where he was right now:
Standing across the street from a Starbucks, having assumed the form of his human host (though managing to stay in control, WETHER THAT SHIT IS CANON OR NOT), with a scrap of paper in his hand. His brows furrowed, lips pulling back in a snarl, and the Nictus crumpling the paper in his fist, readying to turn to his true form and level the area (which would be the only reason he came in the first place) – then he noticed something and froze, reconsidering against his better judgment and even unfolding the paper to gaze down at it with a bewildered expression.
A few seconds later, he glanced back up at the girl in the periwinkle blue, cashmere sweater standing not far from the door of the overpriced caffeine joint, still looking quite confused. There she was - 'blue cashmere sweater', 2:30, and at Starbucks – just like the note had said… exactly like the note had said. Maybe they meant a different Starbucks, though – there were only maybe ten, twenty or so in Atlas. Maybe, just maybe he'd messed up somewhere and didn't have to kill her. Another glance at the note – then another glance up, though this time at a street sign, left him spewing a few less-than-child-friendly words under his breath. Everything was just as the note had said, and again despite his better judgment, he found his legs carrying him toward the girl.
When she looked his way, Scorpius nearly stopped right in his tracks, caught in the gaze of those baby-blue doe eyes – but he kept walking until he stood in front of her, close enough to see the brief dash of freckles across her nose. Fitting, he thought – almost like a stereotypical redhead, with that bright, fiery orange hair, which had been cut into a slightly boyish asymmetrical bob. And right as he was about to speak, she'd grinned, making things even more 'confusing', to put it that way – it was kind of crooked, and almost childish, in a sense, but he couldn't help allowing his own lips to twitch upward at the corners. "Are you waiting for someone?" He paused, mentally facepalming. Stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why wasn't he just being straightforward? It would have been so much easier. Trying to pussyfoot around just wasn't like him, but he didn't have time to ask her if she was waiting for him, as she promptly nodded twice his way and replied with an oddly familiar voice – though a bit softer than normal.
"Yes, my, ah – friends – set me up on a blind date… they said I would know who the guy was right away, but…" She allowed it to trail off, gnawing anxiously on her lower lip, providing him with another piece to the little puzzle. It was familiar, but he just couldn't place where he'd seen that little nervous habit before. He didn't have time to think over it, anyway – he could feel his mouth running off without him, and was determined to stop himself from saying anything stupid. … Something more stupid than he already had, that was. "I was looking for someone too, because my acquaintances set me up on a blind date as well – I almost wasn't going to come, this really isn't my type of thing, and I don't think the girl came unless you…" He stopped, eyes widening a little and both brows arching. She was giggling at him. Giggling! At him! Giggling at the powerful, threatening, infamous Nictus known as Scorpius! Yet he didn't see fit to crush her head – not yet.
And then she spoke up again. "Actually, I think you may have your girl right here. Even if you don't – you seem kind of interesting. Let me buy you something to drink, stranger – it's kind of chilly out here." A quick wink was thrown his way as she finished, and for a third time, against the cries of that 'logical' voice in the back of his head that was telling him to ignore her, he followed her into the building, where the writer promptly gave the reader a summary of what happened to save precious time.
The two hit it off quite well – intelligent (if slightly dark) conversation over drinks isn't such a bad way to bond. They spent so much time talking and debating over things that they even forgot to mention their names. It was cut short (like this fic) when Scorpius heard the Arbiter over his personal comm., giving him an order to return to the base – plans were being made against the Hidden Hand organization, and he was to have a part in them. An apology would suffice to allow him to escape, and so he did, rushing to the base without a second thought on who the girl had been. He noticed the absence of Krasivyi at the meeting, though he didn't complain - how silly of him. You'd think the poor guy would have put two and two together, but he remained clueless, even with thoughts of the quaint little girl running through his head.
After the meeting, while everyone was returning to what they'd previously been doing, he'd finally stumbled upon the missing archer, much to his chagrin, sitting on the floor and making a few more of her damned Nictus-shard arrows. Krasivyi was oddly chipper, though, humming a little tune as she worked – well, until she saw Scorp, expression automatically growing sour. "What do you want?" She spat, though a bit softer than the normal loud, obnoxious bit. "Hold your tongue, runt!" He advanced on her, ready to finally take her out and end the annoyances, once and for all… but as he grew closer, he felt his anger dwindling down into a little speck. First were those baby blue doe-eyes. Then he noticed that little dash of freckles across her nose. Third was the pair of goggles that lie on her lap, allowing the asymmetrical, brightly-colored bob to be seen more clearly. And lastly was what she had under her jacket instead of the normal tight green scrap with the target on the front: A blue cashmere sweater. He froze, mind briefly shutting down as he finally came to the realization of who the girl from earlier had been. They'd both been had. It was still just a big joke after all, and he almost felt like laughing out loud as he figured it out.
Then he was brought back to reality, back to the situation at hand: The terrified, trembling Krasivyi, who was readying an arrow with a Nictus shard, watching him with a look of abject horror. He could do it – end her pathetic, miserable existence right then and there… but he realized that she hadn't yet understood the joke, and who he was, abruptly turning around to walk away without another word.
He would spare her – for today, at least – for she had been so very pleasant and accommodating, and after all… he could keep a secret.