Hello friends! It's been a while!
I don't know if all of you know, but Trial By Fire, a collab fic I was posting on a joint account (eviltrinity) with my friends Toxineena and Mslead, has officially come to an end! So I thought it was time to finally start posting my new story, hehe.
I'm very excited about this new AU! I hope you'll like it as much as me and I can't wait to hear what you think! Your reviews give me life and motivation!
This fic will be updated weekly until further notice.
Chapter 1
here is my handle, here is my spout
Smoke welled out beneath her neighbour's door. Thick, dark fumes that spoke of danger and suffocation.
It should have upset or even alarmed Lucy, had it not been such a regular occurence.
For a moment she considered simply walking on. But her heart, as big and compassionate as it was, would not let her.
Worry and curiosity waged a war inside her, and yet both held the same result: slowly, and with a sigh, Lucy knocked on the door. Her bag of groceries dangled dangerously close to the ground, the salmon inside probably in the process of being smoked, but she paid it no attention.
Her knuckles knocked against hard wood, loud, so he'd actually hear her. Experience had taught her that her neighbour's hearing had probably been damaged a little, from one invention too many blowing up around him.
At least the whole house was renovated and equipped with the best smoke detectors around.
The perks of living beside a crazy inventor, she guessed.
The single one that had been installed inside was already blaring in protest, but a dull thunksuddenly brought an end to its cries. Apparently the man inside was of the opinion he'd need no firemen to survive this, and Lucy knew he probably was right.
While that thought crossed her mind, the door swung open. As the cloud of smoke cleared enough for both of them to stop coughing desperately, Lucy focused stern eyes on the man standing in front of her.
Clad in working pants, with his hair pulled back in a ponytail, and charred from head to toe, he seemed to have jumped straight out of a bonfire. But there were little happy wrinkles around his eyes, a sign of many years lived with a smile, and even now his grin never wavered. White teeth shone brightly in the otherwise dark face.
"Sheesh, Igneel, you're gonna kill us all some day."
"Ah, Lucy dear! It's almost time for tea! Care for one?"
It was normal for the inventor to ignore her chiding, just as it was normal for her to accept all of his invitations. Igneel swatted some grime off his pants, dirtying his hands even more by doing so, and Lucy suppressed the urge to get out the cleaning utensils right then and there.
The smoke was beginning to clear, and Lucy could make out the narrow hallway in front of her. Hesitantly, she followed Igneel into the room that served as both living room and what he liked to call his "corner of creation". Just as his pants, every surface in the room seemed to be covered in a layer of soot. The source where all the dirt originated from was the corner opposite of the windows, where something horrible, large and horrendous stood.
Wires and pipes pointed in all directions as the machine huffed and puffed, almost like a breathing, living thing. The gadget sure as hell was heavier than an elephant, and looked the part too.
It had to be his new invention.
"Igneel… what is that."
The man beamed at her, as if he was about to reveal the secret of life.
"It's my newest baby! A Cigarette-Dispensing-And Lighting-Machine. I call it the Fire Dragon 100!"
Despite herself, Lucy forced a smile onto her face, nodding politely. Igneel always set a high value on her opinions and reactions, thinking she made so much time to come see them. Lucy, on the other hand, had only started coming over more regularly because she feared the man was so caught up in his work that he might forget to eat, and starve.
Over time, of course, a weird friendship had bloomed between the unusual pair. And Lucy secretly loved seeing what her inventor came up with, no matter how crazy and useless his machines usually proved to be. Likewise, Igneel loved the fresh energy and air of joy his young neighbour brought to his apartment. Not to mention her cleaning fits.
"Why… is it so big, though?" Lucy carefully asked, smile still bright on her face, a desperate attempt to mask her slight horror. "Wouldn't it be more… handy, if you could fit it into, say, a pocket? And carry it around?"
Igneel scratched the back of his head, and a few ginger strands came loose, falling over his ears and forehead, and even tickling the scar across his right eye. She'd always wondered how he'd gotten that one.
"Well," he finally replied, but his tone was enough for Lucy to deduct that he had not given it a single thought, "This one is for at home! I can make it a younger brother once the prototype will actually work."
Grunting that last word, he kicked against the machine, which hissed in protest. With a grin, Lucy thought it almost seemed offended, and the little puff of smoke it spat in Igneel's face was the last straw. She giggled affectionately, crossing the room to stand beside the inventor and his invention. Almost playfully, she nudged his side, and his disgruntled face softened as he looked down at her, making him appear ten years younger in a heartbeat.
"Didn't you mention tea just now?"
"Lucy love, what would I do without you! Come on into the kitchen, I think it's still clean enough in there to sit down, and I'll boil the water and…" His eyes flitted down to the bag still dangling from her hand. "You don't happen…?"
"Biscuits?" Lucy guessed with a grin, "I bought three packs just for you."
Before she knew it, the tall, sturdy man had smothered her in a hug of grime and affection, leaving her squeaking in terror. Her clothes were done for. Nevertheless, she returned the hug quickly, patting his back as he moved back and grinned at her.
He led the way into the kitchen, and Lucy shook her head with a smile, trying not to think of the dirt he had left clinging to her clothes and skin, or the smudges it would later take her ages to get out of her hair. He definitely was a working pants kind of guy, but his rough exterior gave way to a kind, loving inside. She wouldn't ever let him know, but to her he was something like a father. One she had never had, not like this. Their little get togethers always filled her with joy, leaving her happy and… at peace.
At least after she closed the door and left the chaos behind. The feeling always took a while to settle, and needed some distance from the mad man and his explosives.
The kitchen was small, and equipped sparsely. And indeed, it was quite clean - from grime, that is. Undone dishes filled the sink, and breadcrumbs were littered everywhere - really, how did he eat?
"Igneel, could I put my groceries into your fridge for a bit?"
"Sure love, go ahead. I'll just boil the water, and get out some cups," he rambled on and on, gleefully rubbing his hands against each other. They both shuffled around in the kitchen, a comfortable silence settling in the small space.
It wasn't until he had poured the tea that Igneel spoke again.
"Say, Lucy, are you up for a little show? The tea has to cool anways… "
Excited eyes fixed themselves on her, and Lucy simply didn't find it in her to deny him. Her clothes were dirty already, after all.
What more could happen?
With a sigh, Lucy followed Igneel, who had already bounced back into the living room, awaiting her excitedly. His eyes scanned his invention critically, and he got what Lucy simply liked to callthe look. He kept standing very still, probably mentally scrutinizing every screw and formula that had went into the creation of this thing.
Then, suddenly, he began moving, striding towards the machine and almost disappearing completely behind it. He plucked a pencil from behind his right ear (had he been hiding it in his hair all along?) and began scribbling onto a charred piece of paper before marking a piece of wood at seemingly random intervals, all the while excitedly mumbling to himself. The world around him seemed forgotten for a good minute, then he suddenly startled and whirled around to beam at Lucy.
"I think I can make it smaller!" he proclaimed, "But for now, watch me work this baby! I'm positive it will work this time! If I just tweak this…"
Reaching into the back of the machine, all she saw where his brows, furrowed in concentration. He tugged, and then tugged some more, and then, suddenly, his eyes grew wide and he pulled back with a torn cable in hand.
"Oops," he managed a moment later, and an apologetic grin spread across his face. "We might wanna… jump ship."
"Igneel, what do you mean? What have you done?!"
Beside him, the machine roared to new life, coughing and puffing, and she watched in horror as the first kindling flame licked its way out. Smoke rose with each stutter and jerk, and the whole gadgetry looked unsettlingly cataclysmic. Lucy took a step backwards.
She hadn't gotten far, though, when a gigantic cloud of smoke enveloped the whole room in a blanket of darkness. Coughing, Lucy dropped to her knees, instinctively seeking the ground and dragging her shirt up over her mouth and nose.
A small explosion sent scraps flying, and she covered her head. Her lungs were burning. Looking around, she tried to find Igneel. But everything was dark. The room began to turn blurry around the edges.
It was hot, too hot, and she could see bright flames dancing not far from her.
The damned smoke detector didn't make a sound. Just what had Igneel done to it earlier?!
Now they would both die. This was it.
Lucy coughed, trying to crawl somewhere safer. But she was too disoriented to even suspect where the door might be. Tears stung in her eyes.
Her head bumped against something hard, and she would have cursed, had her lungs allowed it. Blinking, she realized it was the leg of a table.
Had she seriously crawled closer to the fire? Well, she guessed she deserved burning.
The thought made her laugh in her desperation, but the sound came out croaky. Just how much time did she have left before the smoke alone would do her in?
She glared at the table - and then froze. Because there was another leg - a real one - right in front of her nose. She'd almost bumped it, had the heat coming off it not been so painful that she flinched back in the last second.
Was she hallucinating now?
That seemed to be the only explanation. A foot was dangling right in front of her, swaying slightly, and the rest of the person undoubtedly had to be sitting on top of the table - right next to the burning machine.
Yes, she was definitely losing it.
Because even breathing seemed easier too all of a sudden, when that was virtually impossible.
Was the smoke clearing?
A peculiar sucking sound from above caught her attention, and she could make out the shape of a person. It seemed as if the smoke was oozing off him and being sucked in at the same time. Lucy blinked hazily.
The smoke was gone.
She probably was dead.
But the person was still there, and she was not only conscious, but actually felt a little better. Was he a firefighter, maybe, and her imagination had played a trick on her? Her eyes bulged, though, as she took a closer look at the newcomer.
There were many curious things worth noticing about him, but none sprung to eye as much as his skin.
It was red.
He was red from head to toe, save the mane of paler hair on his head, which was so faded it was almost a shade of pink. Two tiny horns poked through the mess. Everywhere else though, his skin seemed to be born right out of a fire, all flame and ruby.
Only then did Lucy's brain process just why she was able to know there was not a spot of pale skin on him - because he was also stark naked. His spread legs happily dangled off the table he sat on, leaving nothing to the imagination as a dark smirk split his face in half. His teeth looked unnaturally sharp.
Lying on the ground, she blinked up at him in shock. Then their eyes met.
Had this been a movie, now would have been the appropriate time for Lucy to faint.
