THE DOVE OF SANCTUARY - DRABBLES

AUTHOR: Zpan Sven

E-MAIL: Zpan(underscore)Sven(at)hotmail(dot)com or zpan(dot)sven(at)gmail(dot)com

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Saint Seiya, only the characters of my creation, this story, and the alterations I have made to the characters, histories, ect. No profit is being made from this; this is being written solely for the enjoyment of myself and others whom like to indulge in the scenario of 'what if?'.

AUTHOR' NOTES: One of my infamous 'What If?' fanfics, where I take some of my ideas, an original character or two, the plot of an anime and throw them in the blender set on puree just to see what happens. For these drabbles, I blame Plantress! And DaHaloChick. ;

"Some believe it is the ability to speak that separates us from the animals…"

'I think, there for I am…'

:Our minds are as one…:

SUMMARY: A series of drabbles connected to my fanfic, which is an AU retelling of Saint Seiya, mostly from the view point of the Bronze Saint of Columba, Angie, telling the world from her eyes and showing how much difference a 'minor' character can make…

CHAPTER SUMMARY: A glimpse of what the teenage Gold Saints of Capricorn, Aquarius, and Cancer talk about in their down-time, as witnessed through the eyes of young Angie.

RATING: K+ to T (PG-13)

WARNINGS: Violence, swearing, and sexual innuendo and situations…and my depraved sense of humor XD

GENRE: Action & Adventure/Drama/Supernatural/Humor

ARCHIVE: FanFiction(dot)Net, FicWad(dot)Com, Zpan Sven's Works, others please ask

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Opera

The only think she knew about Opera was that Master Shura liked to sing it.

A lot.

Of course she never had the heart to tell him he was singing badly, because that would hurt his feelings and she would never do that. Not that Master Deathmask had the same sense of tact and loved to point it out with snide comments. So did Master Milo, only he did so often in an overly-dramatic manner where he clutched his ears pretending his eardrums had ruptured and wailing for Athena to save him.

With a bowl of spaghetti with a fresh tomato and basil sauce she and Master Deathmask had made in her lap, Angie watched the trio of Gold Saints have a lively…'debate'. Yes, that was what the eight-year-old was calling it, never mind the fact that they were all squabbling like small children, even Master Camus.

Over opera.

Or, to be exact, which of their nationalities had the best operas. So far Master Deathmask seemed to have the best argument – opera originated in Italy, after all, and was an Italian word. Of course that was the most she understood of it. Most of what they were talking about was over her head. But it was nice to have the three together and knowing they had a common subject they liked.

Now, if she could just get them to stop arguing...