Title: Epiphany.
Rating: For the most part, it's PG-13, though there is a chapter that will be R, I believe.
Pairing: Irvine/Fiona.
Notes: Based upon the ( my favorite ) song by Radiohead, 'Creep.' Mostly a verse and the chorus: 'When you were here before / Couldn't look you in the eye / You're just like an angel / Your skin makes me cry / You float like a feather / In a beautiful world / I wish I was special / You're so fucking special / But I'm a creep / I'm a weirdo / What the hell am I doing here? / I don't belong here.'
It's.. probably not what you'll expect it to be. Expect updates to be erratic. AND YES, I HAVE DECIDED THAT THIS IS A CONTINUATION OF 'I DON'T CARE!' Yaaay!!
- - - -
She coaxed lightly at the thin layer of dust and dirt upon something that could have very well been considered plain wall, if it weren't for the fact that a number of intricate carvings lined the entire whole of it, alternating between the deft tips of her fingers and the subtle tips of the brush. The dust and dirt crumbled away easily at the alternations, revealing indentations of swirls, of possible characters, of – a face?
Using the back of the hand, which gripped the brush, she nudged the facemask from her mouth and gently breathed. The brush was pinned between her knees for a moment and, cupping her hands over her mouth, she all but hollered a singsong, "Doctor D!"
Taking no time to wait, she rubbed at her nose gently and pushed the mask back up, before returning to her work. Tedious and backbreaking as it may have been, she particularly enjoyed it – especially since it told her of the history she had long since forgotten.
The face was incredibly large in contrast to anything else she had uncovered. While the wall itself was a good four meters high and six, possibly seven, meters wide, she guessed the face itself spanned over an ample sixteen square feet of space – more than half! Carvings of faces and imprints of hands weren't uncommon, though this was, undoubtedly, the largest of the finds.
She tirelessly worked at brushing away the film, listening as the slow, paced amble of her 'boss' echoed down the corridor. She glanced to the side in time to see him come into view; his arms folded behind his back, the baldhead capped within a white bandana while the rest of his hair was pulled back and out of the way. While his face was covered with a mask similar to her own, she supposed he was grinning – maybe he already knew of the face.
"A new good find, I suppose?" He inquired joyfully, lifting up one hand, which clutched the handle of a lantern lightly. It added to the dull, artificial light greatly, illuminating the face, the carvings, while casting suspicious shadows over everything else. It reminded her, though distantly, of Raven..
Suppressing a light shudder, she nodded and beamed. "I think so!" Her response was muffled within the thickness of the mask and she removed it once more to allow herself to speak freely. She set the brush down upon the small table holding numerous other brushes and motioned. "I think it's a face."
"Indeed," The Doctor breathed as he took in the sight. Before long did he clasp his hands before himself and nod his head toward it carefully. "Look – it seems to have your hair."
"I don't think I'm worthy of a statue, Doctor D." She stuffed her mask back up over her mouth before her blush could go seen and lowered her head in appreciation. Compliments might have been nice, though they weren't her area of expertise.
"We'll know soon enough, dear Fiona, soon enough!" He laughed jovially and thrust the lantern toward the wall once more. The face did have her hair; ear tails, that awkward diamond-shaped tuft haloing the back of her head, finished off by a thick bundle of extra hair which seemed to be of no absolute use.
The face itself, however, was lacking clarity. It could be seen even through the thick layer of dust upon its hard surface. They all did.
"Hmm," The Doctor lowered the lantern, frowning mildly beneath the mask. He patted Fiona upon the back lightly with his free hand. "Take a break. You can deal with this later – or tomorrow."
"I'm fine –"
"Go on!" He motioned toward the exit; a small, pinpoint of light down the long, intricately pattered corridor. "It's not going anywhere!"
- - - -
She would have preferred to be working with a brush, rather than stirring ample amounts of salt into the delicious, dark depths of the strong coffee someone had made before hand. Probably one of the soldiers, per request by Doctor D.
She didn't whine or pout, nonetheless, enjoying her moment away from the mental nagging, away from having to force herself to remember something that just – wasn't there. She sighed contentedly and took the spoon from the cup, placing it upon a tissue folded neatly near by. She palmed the cup carefully, not wanting to burn herself on accident, and sipped.
While she grew warm and possibly even tired from the liquid, the outside itself went from bright, to rosy, to dark, giving way to the duo of crecentric moons: the only illumination, besides their artificial lighting.
Even that grew dull. Soldiers went in, went out, smiled and chatted with her cheerfully, drank and ate, before heading in for the night, retiring to their roomy tents in hope for a night full of blissful sleep, lacking the war which once ravaged the already barren lands. They always got it, of course – Ban Freiheit was around. He could protect even the most danger prone person with ease! He was, after all, the hero whom defeated the Deathsaurer!
She briefly wondered how Ban was, as she refilled her coffee, stirring in another ample amount of salt before returning to her rhythmic sipping. And where was Doctor D? Wasn't he trailing her earlier, when she had first entered the tent? The gentle chirping of random night insects told her that midnight was drawing near. Did he retire to his own tent without bidding her a good night? And, jeez, how she wanted to get back to that wall, just for another peek..
Okay, that was it. She set her mug down and stood up, taking her tissue along with her. She dabbled at the corners of her mouth before replacing id down upon the table. She was going to look. Doctor D was probably there still! Why he could uncover it and she could not was beyond her – she had done worse before, after all!
Tucking the chair back under the cover of the table, she walked briskly toward the tent flap, where upon a table, her gloves and mask remain discarded. She took the trio of objects and, with a fleeting glance about the campsite, she jogged off in the direction of the ruin, which, as she had guessed, still had a number of lights focused down upon the entrance way, winding all the way into the innards, as far as she could see.
The utter silence within walls of the ruin was broken by the gentle crunching of the rubber sole of her boots against the scattered, erratic bunches of gravel. How that had triggered someone to dive out of no where at her from behind, was beyond all reason and logic –
Wait.
She dropped the gloves and the mask and found herself struggling vainly against a grip far stronger than her own. She wished, at that moment, that she were still very much asleep within the stasis pod, unable to endure the pain, which seared through her shoulders and her upper back. She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply and prepared to scream – though her mouth was clamped over by a hand and, after a brief pause of recognition, she was twirled to face this assailant.
With wide eyes and a gentle gasp, she wrenched her arms free of the bruising grasp and stumbled back, the emotions radiating from her alternating between fear and happiness. Whoever it was took the time to sheepishly grin at her and cast his gaze aside, as though fearing a scornful look from the small blonde.
"Sorry about that, Fiona."
Rating: For the most part, it's PG-13, though there is a chapter that will be R, I believe.
Pairing: Irvine/Fiona.
Notes: Based upon the ( my favorite ) song by Radiohead, 'Creep.' Mostly a verse and the chorus: 'When you were here before / Couldn't look you in the eye / You're just like an angel / Your skin makes me cry / You float like a feather / In a beautiful world / I wish I was special / You're so fucking special / But I'm a creep / I'm a weirdo / What the hell am I doing here? / I don't belong here.'
It's.. probably not what you'll expect it to be. Expect updates to be erratic. AND YES, I HAVE DECIDED THAT THIS IS A CONTINUATION OF 'I DON'T CARE!' Yaaay!!
- - - -
She coaxed lightly at the thin layer of dust and dirt upon something that could have very well been considered plain wall, if it weren't for the fact that a number of intricate carvings lined the entire whole of it, alternating between the deft tips of her fingers and the subtle tips of the brush. The dust and dirt crumbled away easily at the alternations, revealing indentations of swirls, of possible characters, of – a face?
Using the back of the hand, which gripped the brush, she nudged the facemask from her mouth and gently breathed. The brush was pinned between her knees for a moment and, cupping her hands over her mouth, she all but hollered a singsong, "Doctor D!"
Taking no time to wait, she rubbed at her nose gently and pushed the mask back up, before returning to her work. Tedious and backbreaking as it may have been, she particularly enjoyed it – especially since it told her of the history she had long since forgotten.
The face was incredibly large in contrast to anything else she had uncovered. While the wall itself was a good four meters high and six, possibly seven, meters wide, she guessed the face itself spanned over an ample sixteen square feet of space – more than half! Carvings of faces and imprints of hands weren't uncommon, though this was, undoubtedly, the largest of the finds.
She tirelessly worked at brushing away the film, listening as the slow, paced amble of her 'boss' echoed down the corridor. She glanced to the side in time to see him come into view; his arms folded behind his back, the baldhead capped within a white bandana while the rest of his hair was pulled back and out of the way. While his face was covered with a mask similar to her own, she supposed he was grinning – maybe he already knew of the face.
"A new good find, I suppose?" He inquired joyfully, lifting up one hand, which clutched the handle of a lantern lightly. It added to the dull, artificial light greatly, illuminating the face, the carvings, while casting suspicious shadows over everything else. It reminded her, though distantly, of Raven..
Suppressing a light shudder, she nodded and beamed. "I think so!" Her response was muffled within the thickness of the mask and she removed it once more to allow herself to speak freely. She set the brush down upon the small table holding numerous other brushes and motioned. "I think it's a face."
"Indeed," The Doctor breathed as he took in the sight. Before long did he clasp his hands before himself and nod his head toward it carefully. "Look – it seems to have your hair."
"I don't think I'm worthy of a statue, Doctor D." She stuffed her mask back up over her mouth before her blush could go seen and lowered her head in appreciation. Compliments might have been nice, though they weren't her area of expertise.
"We'll know soon enough, dear Fiona, soon enough!" He laughed jovially and thrust the lantern toward the wall once more. The face did have her hair; ear tails, that awkward diamond-shaped tuft haloing the back of her head, finished off by a thick bundle of extra hair which seemed to be of no absolute use.
The face itself, however, was lacking clarity. It could be seen even through the thick layer of dust upon its hard surface. They all did.
"Hmm," The Doctor lowered the lantern, frowning mildly beneath the mask. He patted Fiona upon the back lightly with his free hand. "Take a break. You can deal with this later – or tomorrow."
"I'm fine –"
"Go on!" He motioned toward the exit; a small, pinpoint of light down the long, intricately pattered corridor. "It's not going anywhere!"
- - - -
She would have preferred to be working with a brush, rather than stirring ample amounts of salt into the delicious, dark depths of the strong coffee someone had made before hand. Probably one of the soldiers, per request by Doctor D.
She didn't whine or pout, nonetheless, enjoying her moment away from the mental nagging, away from having to force herself to remember something that just – wasn't there. She sighed contentedly and took the spoon from the cup, placing it upon a tissue folded neatly near by. She palmed the cup carefully, not wanting to burn herself on accident, and sipped.
While she grew warm and possibly even tired from the liquid, the outside itself went from bright, to rosy, to dark, giving way to the duo of crecentric moons: the only illumination, besides their artificial lighting.
Even that grew dull. Soldiers went in, went out, smiled and chatted with her cheerfully, drank and ate, before heading in for the night, retiring to their roomy tents in hope for a night full of blissful sleep, lacking the war which once ravaged the already barren lands. They always got it, of course – Ban Freiheit was around. He could protect even the most danger prone person with ease! He was, after all, the hero whom defeated the Deathsaurer!
She briefly wondered how Ban was, as she refilled her coffee, stirring in another ample amount of salt before returning to her rhythmic sipping. And where was Doctor D? Wasn't he trailing her earlier, when she had first entered the tent? The gentle chirping of random night insects told her that midnight was drawing near. Did he retire to his own tent without bidding her a good night? And, jeez, how she wanted to get back to that wall, just for another peek..
Okay, that was it. She set her mug down and stood up, taking her tissue along with her. She dabbled at the corners of her mouth before replacing id down upon the table. She was going to look. Doctor D was probably there still! Why he could uncover it and she could not was beyond her – she had done worse before, after all!
Tucking the chair back under the cover of the table, she walked briskly toward the tent flap, where upon a table, her gloves and mask remain discarded. She took the trio of objects and, with a fleeting glance about the campsite, she jogged off in the direction of the ruin, which, as she had guessed, still had a number of lights focused down upon the entrance way, winding all the way into the innards, as far as she could see.
The utter silence within walls of the ruin was broken by the gentle crunching of the rubber sole of her boots against the scattered, erratic bunches of gravel. How that had triggered someone to dive out of no where at her from behind, was beyond all reason and logic –
Wait.
She dropped the gloves and the mask and found herself struggling vainly against a grip far stronger than her own. She wished, at that moment, that she were still very much asleep within the stasis pod, unable to endure the pain, which seared through her shoulders and her upper back. She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply and prepared to scream – though her mouth was clamped over by a hand and, after a brief pause of recognition, she was twirled to face this assailant.
With wide eyes and a gentle gasp, she wrenched her arms free of the bruising grasp and stumbled back, the emotions radiating from her alternating between fear and happiness. Whoever it was took the time to sheepishly grin at her and cast his gaze aside, as though fearing a scornful look from the small blonde.
"Sorry about that, Fiona."