Fin De Siecle
By: ShinigamiForever
Part 1.1: Recondita Armonia (Strange Harmony)
***
A/N: Since I promised I would continue this series and be able to claim that I at least have been able to keep up a series, I am inserting this part as an experimental piece. 1+2/2+1 so far. OOC. Nothing much. BTW, the song "Recondita Armonia" is one of Pucchini's.
***
Silence.
A dreaded, stifling, agonizing silence.
The kind of silence that turns a cold room searing hot and turns even the blandest comment into a momentary respite.
Silence.
Zechs shifted slightly, twitching one of his fingers. He kept his eyes focused on the blank patch of wall in his room, preparing for the least bit of sound. A pale strand of platinum blond hair tickled his face teasingly, but he pointedly ignored it.
A soft murmur sounded in his ears. 'Marquise…'
He pressed two fingers against the jewel communicator in his ear. 'Chang.'
The "JewelCom," as it was so often called, allowed the 2 communicators to mouth their words. The sensors then pick up the motions and translate them into words. The ones that Zechs and Wufei had were even more complicated, allowing them to switch off into different channels. Also, the voices that sounded the words were the replica of their own voices. They were small, made of a clear and transparent material that sparkled in the light, making its appearance resemble that of a small jewel.
'It's time.'
'I know.'
'Are you ready?'
'Yes.'
In one fluid motion, the blond stood up and instinctively brushed away the wrinkles on his bed sheets. He took a deep breath before looking around at the room.
The walls were a stark white, lights arranged in circles across the ceiling. A bed resembling a cot was pushed against the right wall. Next to the bed was a desk with a computer cubicle, equipped with a state-of-the-art WindRider v. 5.1, a printer, and a scanner. A screen communicator was positioned a little distance away from the computer, black against white wall. A built in closet, nearly invisible except for the electric lock, occupied the left wall.
Zechs slipped out the door, platinum blond hair that was pulled back in a ponytail whirling in white curves behind him. He waited, back to the door, for the swish and click that locked and shut his door before continuing on.
The hallways winded in straight sharp corners, stark white and blatantly hard. He slid through them briskly, walking with efficient steps and feeling the controlled air whip in his face, flooding his lungs with the filtered oxygen of the place. Filtered and cleaned, dull and flat, lacking in any flavor, completely and totally controlled. It was like everything else in this place. Cold, metallic, lacking sparkle or natural life. Zechs smiled dismally. He had never lived anywhere else, other than here. He was born in this harsh world of metal, continued living in this harsh world of metal, and would probably die here too.
Death…
The word echoed in his mind and he whispered it out to the open, whistling air in front of him. "Death…"
A mixture of half syllables that rolled across one's tongue. A muted hard sound, a vowel like noise that came from the back of your throat, then the slip of your tongue to form the last "t-h" roll. Soft. Deceptively so.
He stopped when he arrived at a particular door. It had, as all doors had, an electrical lock to read the scans on their fingertips and also a voice tester for a possible password check. He placed his fingers on the scanner.
"Voice recognition, please," the mechanical voice said, awakened by the scanning lights, shaken from its electrical slumber where the voice lay hid.
He leaned over to place his mouth closer to the voice detector. "I have written of me on my stone," he quoted, the password falling from his mouth like cascades of words and syllables, always syllables. The perfect articulation never changed, the rolling timbre of command, or discipline.
Something sinister in the tone/Told me my secret must be- Marquise, shut up.
Annoyed, he straightened himself just in time to step into the room before the swishing door closed. The click that followed assured him the door was locked afterwards.
"Marquise."
He flinched unconsciously. It always bothered him, the changes between the acoustic voice and the generated voice. It was not that they were different in any way. It was just the gritting realness of Wufei's voice when he was in flesh and blood in front of Zechs, and the slither of Wufei's voice when it was in Zechs' ear, purring almost. They were the same voice. Just changed. Perhaps it was a mental affect.
"Chang," he greeted the Chinese warrior. Like all others in this place, Wufei also wore the hooded sweatshirt tank top, his being a dark red, Zechs' being a light ice blue, a bit like the color of Marquise's eyes. Wufei's number was 05, the microchip embedded on the smooth muscle of Wufei's right arm. Zechs did not need to look down on his own shoulder to know that his microchip was also in the same position, bearing the number 06.
Wufei had androgynously beautiful features, much like Heero and Duo. His eyes were sharp and an intense onyx color, slanting slightly in the Asian fashion. His face was a rich bronze, lighter than caramel, but deeper in warmth and color. Muscles rippled under skin, tight and drawn to a forever ready position. He was not very tall, standing about a head below Zechs, but he had the look of agility and speed, as well as admirable strength. He held himself stiff, aloft, but with a certain grace.
"We must suit up," Wufei said, his voice twisting the old familiar phrase sardonically. He paused for a moment, looking slightly worriedly at Zechs before shrugging faintly and turning to face the second door leading into the so-called dressing room.
"Yes," Zechs murmured, following Wufei. As he waited for Wufei to open the door and release the lock, he impulsively placed his hand gently on Wufei's shoulder, then regretted it as the Chinese boy straightened up suddenly. He felt the shoulder tense up nervously before Wufei forced himself to relax.
"Let's go," Chang said, rather gruffly and with a hint of a growl at the edges. Zechs nodded, quickly retracting his hand and slipping through the door.
Heero told me you are not a man who likes to be touched-
What does it matter, Marquise?
He said you are like a-
Shut up, Marquise.
They entered the dressing room. It was simply little blocked off rooms with lockers. The door to each dressing room was marked with a number, 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, and 13. Dressing room 03 and 04 were unused; the original boy, an older teenager of about 17, had died, while dressing room 04 had never been used. Rumor was that the founder of this place had once used it, but ended up dying after his second battle. It was considered bad luck to go in the room for any reason. Superstition, surely, but it was frightening.
Zechs unlocked his door and entered the room, closing the door behind him. The room was mostly empty, filled with the same stark white light that was characteristic of all the rooms. A revolving locker occupied the left wall along with a small couch like sitting place. A small computer screen and extended keyboard took up the right wall.
Zechs walked over to the rotating closet, pulling up his shirt along the way. The closet opened after he palmed the lock. There were some hooks where he slung his hooded tank-top. He peeled off his pants and took off his shoes, placing them in the closet with deftness. The closet turned, revealing the battle suit.
It was an almost skin tight uniform. It connected the pants and the top. Zechs, being 06, had that number tagged on his right arm. The uniform came up to his neck on the top and also had glove-like coverings for his hands. A stripe of light blue, the color of his regular shirt, ran down the left arm. The rest was black. The blond knew that the battle suit was embedded and crisscrossed with sensors under the top layer of covering. It was part of their mock battle, known throughout as "The Games."
He walked over to the computer, ears catching the sound of the rotating closet shut itself after he took out the uniform. With some minor difficulty, he slipped it on and activated the computer.
"Code verification for battle 023, please," the computer said, displaying a screen for name and code.
Name: Z-E-C-H-S-0-6.
Password: ******
"Verification complete. Please choose your weapons, Zechs06." Zechs rapidly ran through the inventory of choices. He spotted what he wanted and clicked on the icons.
"Choice of weapons for Zechs06: Standard energy shield, advanced target finder, long range laser gun, short range laser saber. Verify choice of weapons?"
Methodically, he typed in yes.
"Zechs06 has completed pre-battle sign up. Please wait until battle commences." The computer shut off automatically. Zechs was slightly annoyed. He hated waiting until the start of the battle to learn what Wufei and the other team had chosen as weapons.
For a minute, he stood, waiting, watching the dust motes fly in the air. He felt strangely naked, stripped in the bare light, white against white.
Then-
"Zechs. It's time to go."
