Okay, I KNOW I said very little more fan fiction. And guys, don't expect frequent updates. Most of my drabbles are, as I said, going direct to the website. You can find half of one there already, along with the unbetaed first chapter of The Wolves of Caylemora. Please go check it out, join the site and leave feedback, guys!
But Resonance of Fate is in my brain now, and there's more that I want to do with it then I really want to put on the site. It's supposed to be dedicated to my own book, and the drabble section already there might even be taken down. . So here will be a multi-chaptered thing of short snippets that beg to be written, all revolving around Zephyr, Leanne and Vashyron. Probably few if any will be related. All will be character driven.
Also, the game's info packet has Leanne older then Zephyr by a good few years, which I don't believe for a second. So in my own little personal head cannon, she's got a year on him, still putting him at the youngest.
Sorry, Zephyr. :P
Disclaimer- I own nothing, I just play in the wonderful steampunk sandbox!
In Which Zephyr Has Pink Hair, and It Is Leanne's Fault.
Zephyr was not actually a somber person.
In fact, the more the kid had come out of his shell over the years, the more Vashyron had come to realize that, if he'd had a different past, Zephyr would be one of the most trouble-making kids you'd know. Mischievous and fucking smart, Zephyr wasn't just the type to leave a bucket of water over your door.
He was the type to somehow get residue from a dead ooze between your sheets and re-make it so neatly and tightly that you didn't even notice until you got in and "Damn it, kid, I'm gonna kill you-"
It had been months before the kid had laughed. Hell, months before he'd even cracked a smile. But when he did, Vashyron had two things reinforced.
The first and most relevant was that Zephyr didn't filter anything he felt. If he was pissed he was pissed. If he was happy he was happy. It was like a sling-shot- no in between. Everything he felt, he felt to the farthest degree possible. Clearly- it wasn't every fifteen year old kid who drove himself completely fucking insane, was it?
Well. Maybe that was unfair.
The other was that Zephyr, fickle as a cat and moody though he may be (and he was…) also liked to play. Made sense, really- he was still a kid, after all, even though Vashyron himself had trouble remembering it, sometimes. Seventeen, now, eighteen in just a few months. Made him feel damn old, that did.
It had started right after that first reaction that wasn't snarling or growling or slinking around Sweet Home like a spooky street cat. He'd never seen a kid who could move so quietly, either. Had scared the hell out of him on more then one occasion.
It had started with the first throaty, rusty laugh, unused and loud in the quiet. Seemed like he'd been just as startled by it as Vashyron had been, from the way he'd stopped almost instantly, eyes wide and smile slowly falling away.
Granted, no one was sure who it had started with. Vashyron would always insist it was Zephyr and vice versa. But one thing they both agreed on-along with everyone who had been affected by them in some way- was that the prank wars between the boys got quickly out of control.
Way out of control.
It was the third or fourth time this had happened that they both agreed, unanimously, that they needed to stop.
That was all well and good for a time. All was peace- well, okay, no, that was a bunch of BS, all was not peace, there were yelling fights and hunts and once the kitchen caught on fire but that was Vashyron's fault, actually, and low snarled arguments and loud, playful wrestling matches and good-natured shouting and slowly the kid had just blossomed, right in front of his eyes, and he'd found out what it was like to be a big brother.
In a weird way, it was nice, having someone around after so long. Once he got used to it, that was- the first time Zephyr had dropped down behind him from the roof he'd damn near put the boy through the wall.
Then Leanne had come, his second stray (though he insisted every chance he got that she was Zephyr's stray, he'd brought her home and fed her, after all.) And if getting used to having another male in the house was hard, trying adding a girl to the mix.
He'd forgotten about periods.
She'd had a grand total of half a year to get comfortable with them before the unspoken truce was violated in the form of a 'shaving cream bomb' that took hours to clean up. During which Zephyr was mysteriously missing and Leanne kept giggling in an obnoxiously nervous-to-be-amused sort of way on the sofa.
That was the first time she'd ever seen one of their never-ending wars. Well, never ending until one of them got hurt or in serious trouble-or crossed the line, which tended to happen. The end-game to this one, for example, had been Vashyron contaminating Zephyr's drink, unknowing that the boy was really rather incredibly allergic to cinnamon.
Zephyr hadn't known, either, until he'd been on their couch wheezing for air while a panicked Leanne tried very hard not to cry as he barked directions at her.
Any food-related pranks had been banned after that.
At first she'd been unsure and refused to participate in their childishness; partly out of timidity, partly out of a well-developed sense of self preservation.
(Aborted suicide attempt notwithstanding- that had been a unique situation from what she explained, and she'd never shown any sign since of suicidal tendencies…besides her willingness to wake them both up at the ass crack of dawn more then once for one reason or another. Or, generally, before they were ready. He was a bear in the morning, he knew that about himself, and Zephyr was just generally a little piss when he was being asked to do something he didn't want to do.)
But eventually, just like with their hunting, Leanne had been drawn irreversibly into their pranks. At first it had just been winding up on one side or another- usually Vashyron's- and then, one day, easily another half a year into her knowing them-
"Damn it, Vashryon!"
Which had honestly startled him, because for once he hadn't done a thing. He'd tumbled off the sofa when something hard had slammed into his back, yelping in surprise and shoving his hair out of his face, sleepy and disoriented and groggy.
At first, he'd thought it'd been because he was half-asleep and the sun was setting and it had just stormed that he was looking at Zephyr with pink hair. Optical illusion.
But no. No, not from the look on the kid's face. And a moment later, he was confirming it with more-awake eyes…Zephyr's hair was rose-colored.
He didn't laugh.
He didn't.
The hooted peals of laughter came from behind him, where Leanne was doubled over, not even pretendin' to be innocent, howling as she draped over the back of the sofa. Vashyron saw the instant it hit the kid- who was actually behind his pink hair. His pale eyes widened, then flashed, then he was leaping over Vashyron and the cough in one, smooth leap.
"Damn straight, you run!" He bellowed, as Leanne shrieked and bolted in the other direction. She leapt lightly up the stairs, Zephyr hot on her heels.
"You can't get anywhere goin' up, Leanne!" He called, picking himself up with a grunt of effort. Shit, he was getting old. There was a second shriek, and massive metal clang, and Leanne dropped down through the roof. She was sprinting just about before she hit the ground, and with good reason; Zephyr dropped down about two steps behind her.
"Vashyron!"
"Oh hell no, don't even come runnin' at me." He side-stepped her desperate lunge for him. "You got yourself into this, sweetcakes, you can get yourself out." He snorted a laugh as Zephyr darted around the sofa, pink hair- pink!- glinting.
It was good, he thought, seein' them be kids.
Leanne was making a break for the door- "Just let him catch you, Leanne, it'll be over quicker that way-" thinking outside was her refuge- that Zephyr would balk at going into public. She was right, in a way. Zephyr would hesitate, for .004 seconds, before deciding fuck it, revenge is more important and coming after her anyhow.
Which was exactly what happened.
As the door slammed shut behind them, Vashyron considered a few things.
The first was to go upstairs and find out what, exactly, Leanne had done, how permanent it was, and if he needed to buy blond dye.
The second was actually calling out to remind Leanne that she was still in her bumble-bee pajamas.