Um, okay, here's the deal. 'Zel-chan scared my muse off something like two months ago and she (my muse) has yet to return. So, anyway, I've been forced to make do with some temporary muses (Ralph and the ACoR have graciously agreed to take on the task), but the problem is that they have really weird...tastes... Ralph just wants oddball comedy, which is actually okay with me (he's helping me and 'Zel with "Heero Potter"), but the ACoR is a hopeless romantic, and she wants me to write sap, which I'm not very good at. Bear with me and hope that my muse returns soon.
... sap... think sap (is getting into Sap Mentality). ::all revved up:: All right! I can DO this! Really.
Duo: Sunset Games
By: M.E. (Magnificent Entity)
"So, what do we do now?" asked Alai. "The bugger war's over, and so's the war down there on Earth, and even the war here. What do we do now?"
"We're kids," said Petra. "They'll probably make us go to school. It's the law. You have to go to school until you're seventeen." They all laughed at that. Laughed until tears streamed down their faces.
— from Ender's Game, by Orson Scott Card
I love sunsets. Always have, always will. I know it sounds sort of sappy and romantic, but I just love the way that all the colors bleed together, creating one giant wash of vibrant red, golden yellow, royal purple, and sometimes even a hint of green. Like I said before, I know it sounds sappy and romantic, but it's true. I love sunsets.
Quatre always said that sunrises are his favorite, and he kept on telling me that I should come out and watch one with him. Ha. Big joke– like I'd ever let him drag me out of bed before eight a.m. I discovered a long time ago that I'm not a morning person. Having additionally classified myself as the opposite, a night owl, I intend to remain as such. If I'm the type who hesitates over changing his socks (and I am– they're just so much more comfortable once they've been walked in), I'm certainly not going to change my sleeping habits in order to watch one silly sunrise.
And, anyway, it couldn't possibly as good as a sunset. No way. No how. Nuh uh.
If you know me at all, you're probably wondering why the hell I'm watching a sunset right now. You might even be about to ask me something along the lines of "Don't you have anything you should be blowing up right now?", since it seems people think that that's all terrorists do in their spare time. It's kinda... I dunno... What I mean is– I do other things too. I read a lot– sure, it's mostly manga, but everyone has their own version of the classics.
Don't give that kind of look– I really don't wanna have to deal with you right now.
An-ee-way, back to why I'm watching a sunset instead of blowing shit up. Well, the thing is, there really isn't anything to blow up any more. I mean, the war's over and everything, so I don't get to play around with explosives now.
Yes, I'm just as upset about this as you are. I mean, what's the point of being a trained terrorist if you can't even get a hold of sparklers or any other minor fireworks? All that training, gone down the drain! Not to mention the severe lack of amusement for those of us with pyromaniacle natures.
I don't know who's more upset over this- me or the explosives industry.
So here I am, deprived of my hand grenades, rocket launchers, guns, etc. Administration won't even let me have a pocket knife, which is a major let down, since I was planning to finish whittling this sorry looking dog I started on about two years ago. I swear that if Administration could pass a law against having fun, they would.
This is absolutely the last time I let the government pick the school I go to. As soon as I'm a legal adult, bam! I'm outta here.
Oh. You hadn't thought of that, had you? That I'm not a legal adult yet, that I've still got a year to go.
I guess none of us really considered what might happen to us after the war. I mean, sure we're kids, but we're also trained terrorists (as you pointed out earlier), so we're all really mature. Yes, I am mature– think about it, who's asking the stupid questions here, you or me?
Ah, so you admit defeat. Maybe there is some hope for you after all.
Yeah, so here we are, the five of us. The war is over, we figure we can do anything we want- we skip around for a year or so, the public has forgotten about us, we've become obscure again. And then, bang! Marimeia has her fun, and we're suddenly in the news again. Some smart-ass reporter decides to stick his nose into places where it doesn't belong, and dredges up some interesting information on exactly how old we all are. One thing leads to another, the government realizes that we're all under eighteen and haven't really gone to school for at least two years. They try to take it up with our parents only to find that we don't have any. I guess their response could be described as a "hissy fit."
It wasn't so bad for Quatre– one of his sisters legally adopted him and got him set up doing home study. Relena was really lucky too. Sure, once the new bureaucracy found out her real age they kicked her out of her diplomatic position, citing some obscure age rule, but she doesn't have to worry about not having a legal guardian like the rest of us, since her foster mom is still alive. So, anyway, now Miss Princess is off in some elite private school, just waiting until she's old enough to go back into politics. She tried writing to Heero for a while there, but he never replied to any of her letters. I found one stuffed in the circular filing system, asked him about it, and decided that if he wasn't going to reply, I would. Me and her have become something akin to pen pals– we write back and forth, exchanging gossip, swapping school escape plans– you know the drill.
So, anyway, Relena and Quatre got off pretty easy, all in all.
Not so for the rest of us. We were made wards of state and then stuck in this god awful public boarding school where the school psychiatrist picks our brains at least twice a week, sure that we must have been traumatized by what we did in the war. For once, we all agree with Wufei: this is most unjust.
I guess the school is okay though, if you don't consider the head-shrinker, uniforms, and food. It's not that I don't want to learn or that I already know everything– for some reason Professor G felt that English and art shouldn't be part of the required training for a teenage terrorist– it's that I want to be able to learn it my own way at my own pace.
Heero wants me to come inside and finish my English homework (sentence diagraming– believe me, I'm not looking forward to it), since I didn't get done this afternoon– the reason, being of course, that that damned psychologist kept us all an hour longer than usual today.
Wufei's pissed at me about that. He says it's my fault and that I should've never baited her by saying that I'm all together since I know where my towel is. [1] Wu-man really needs to get himself a decent sense of humor.
Strangely enough, Heero's been great about all this, even though he doesn't like it any better than I do. He's kind of like the parent I never really had– he makes me do my schoolwork, makes sure that I go to bed at a decent time, never mind if we don't exactly get to sleep right away.
Amazing that Administration actually let us pick our own roommates. There was some talk about making us room with other people (helping us "adjust" to the post-war world), but the parents of the other kids complained that they didn't want their children sharing rooms with "blood-thirsty maniacs." So I get a room with Heero, and Trowa and Wufei get to share a room, which I know makes them happy, even if it's just the two of them and Quatre's not there.
It's strange about Quatre. He never contacts any of us– I haven't heard from him since the last time I saw him, which was about two months after the Eve Wars. I know that both Wufei and Trowa are pissed at him about something, but I'm not sure what. I think I'll write to blondie when I go back inside. Maybe I'll tell him about you.
Yeah, I know. It's getting late– I'd better go, or else Heero will come after me again. I'll come and talk to you again tomorrow, Father, same time, same place. See you around.
[1] Heh, heh. No fic with literary references is complete without at least one reference to The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. ::bows:: Thank you.
No, Duo is *not* talking to a priest. He's talking to God. I think. It looks to me like Ralph helped me with this one a lot more than the ACoR. Oh, well. I like writing from Duo's pov because I feel that I can usually get him in character (which is hard for me with most characters). Most likely 'Zel would say that this is because he and I are so similar, personality-wise. Ha ha.