* Burning Roses. *
* Rating: Pg-13/ R for some points.
Pairings: Trowa/Serena. Even though it's still a triangle.
Disclaimer: ::Glares around, before grumbling to self about bloody morons making her commit self-mutilation by saying outright that nothing belongs to her and ripping away precious fantasies of ownership. Can't a whatever-it-is-I-am dream in peace? Jeezus. :: So, I may not own the Characters. I may not own the Beauty and the Beast thingy. BUT I SURE AS HELL OWN THIS STORY!!!! MUUUAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAH!!! And that means that I own the theme, the storyline, the plot, the whole insane shebang. I was ORIGINAL!! It's all mine. MINE!!!! ::and it seems that Silver had finally lost all her multicolored whatchamacallits. Sanity maybe? ::
Summary:
-I know, writer's block's block is a bitch isn't it. ::Sudden headache.:: Owie. ::Thinks a moment about the next chapter and suddenly block is gone.:: Ah, nitro rocks. And booms. And Heero, leave her alone afore I do something appalling to you in the next chapter. Something with Relena in it. :: is suddenly holding a flag with a demented 'Q' on it. ^-^':: Hehehe. I think that you're right? Have you noticed that in the beginning of this story I was all, happy and nice and junk, now I'm not? Or maybe it was just me, and I'm thinking that I was like that? Who knows. And I didn't mean go find a cliff and fling yourself off it. Yeesh. I'm gonna be charged with homicide.
--:: Silver is enjoying the clown/pink free environment with her 'special' friend and manager Squirrel. "Clown Away, anti pink, god you come up with the greatest things." Continues writing, then pauses and stares over at the closet where the tree was, wide eyed. "Now that takes talent!" Scribbles madly. Looks up again, and thinks a moment. Then, taking out a clean sheet of paper, writes something then once more looks up and down the hall expectantly. Moments later, Relena wanders down the hall and hearing the tree, gets the sudden notion [cough,cough] that there is a prince locked inside, opens the door. Silver and Squirrel wince at the total violence that ensues. Squirrel glances at Silver who is looking rather innocent and has a (tarnished and cricked) halo hovering over her head, then looks back at the mangling and siddles away from Silver. Who is polishing her halo absently.::
-Trowa, towel, wet. Hmmm. I'd take that over chocolate any day.
--I didn't mean to make it a love story! The freaking thing pulled a Heero on me and held me at gun point! Daugh! It's not my fault!!
-Yeah, keep awwwwwwing. There's more fluff in this chapter. At the end at least.
--Actually, no, I don't have any semblance of a planned plot. I just load it all into my peashooter and take aim at the paper. Then near the end of the story I start tying all the loose ends. And, I'd rather not depend on subtitles, because I want to learn how to speak Japanese fluently. If you've seen my art then you'll understand that when I get better at story writing and drawing I want to make my own manga. In Japan. Whoooeee. Big dreams.
--I thought the chapter was great too! Actually, no, I'm ashamed that I let it get so bad. I'm really bad with writer's block.
-Moro? Okay.
--And then you say it's Mora. I'M CONFUSED!!! Aiiya, mind twisting. I am the insane shebang.
-:: Hauls back and…. Sic's Trowa in beast form at Writer's block, then watches the carnage in morbid fascination.:: Ohhhh, I'm some body's idol/hero/ looker up to person thingy. It's all very new to me. ::Wipes a fake tear from her eye.:: I feel so loved….:: Starts singing Box Car Racer's "I feel So".:: Electrical…..prods??! O_O.
--Wicked. I love that word. Wi-cked. Ooh, chills.
-::Starts bawling like a baby.:: I think I just got minor flame-burnage. I am so sorry. You'll get some bangs in this chapter. ::Whimpers.:: I've never gotten a complaint before…ouch. ::Looks for burn cream, big fat tears streaming down adorable chibi face. ( Now don't you feel nice?)
Voices? Where? I don't hear anything. Okay, so it's official. Trowa's got voices. Aren't we all proud of him? Trowa just ignored the raging entity and slid out of the screened of room, intent on kissing the living daylights out of Serena. Something he could do know that he had the lips for it.
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Chapter Whatever. I give up.
For every person there is a different meaning to the word heaven, though the general picture is a bunch of clouds with an angel or two perched on them wearing a sheet and plucking at a harp like there was nothing better in the world (which there is) and watching the puffy clouds float by. This, of course, varies from person to person but this is the main stereotypical idea.
Well, for one particular man was had been very much a beast just a few moments ago, or maybe it was hours, and very much in need of some proper clothing (after all, he only needed a harp and a puff of condensation and he'd be an angel), the word heaven was spelt S.E.R.E.N.A.
Yes, I know, he needs to learn how to spell, but please have a heart –don't mind the sarcasm- and consider his feelings, people! The man was completely head over heart over heels in love with 'Heaven'.
Aren't we all? (No one broke their necks right?)
Currently Heaven was in his arms and holding him tight. She was certainly an angel form above.
There we go with the angel thing again. Heads up readers, it's raining angels.
The only problem was that she would not let go. That and he was really naked. Just about the only thing between them was a sheet and her shift. Five centuries was a long time to go celibate. He was starting to get uncomfortable. And the sheet wasn't helping anything at all! (The sunovaworm!) Deciding it was best that he get her away from him before his 'discomfort' manifested it's self in physical form, he reached behind his head and untwined her arms from around his neck.
Coughing to make his nervousness known, he took a few steps backwards and nearly fell over. He felt way to light on his feet, not as stable as he'd been when he was a beast.
Serena smiled at him, studiously keeping her eyes on his face showing him the same courtesy that he had shown her when she'd gone bonkers in the towel. His appreciation for this was unfathomable. He also thought she must have been drunk. That was not a natural smile. A drunk Serena was a bad thing.
Quickly scuttling to the screened off bathroom, Trowa somehow managed to procure a set of clothes from the wardrobe as he scampered by.
Serena was beyond laughter. The screen slid shut behind him and that was all she viewed as Trowa did what he needed to do.
If there were words to describe what he was feeling as he saw himself, the non-beast, for the first time in centuries, Trowa didn't know them. But shock and elation were the foremost. He still looked as he did so long ago. Though his bangs were longer and they had lost their 'screw gravity-ness', instead just flopping over his face just so somewhat like Heero's only much longer and more cinnamon then chocolate.
He wanted to slap himself for thinking something so screwy.
The same eyes stared back at him, darker now…. Trowa's breath caught and decided to stay in his lungs for the winter. His eyes, they were still slit-pupiled as they'd been before…. Half way between anger and shock, he pulled his hands up to his line of vision and found them to have sharp claw like nails. Still unsatisfied he reached behind him to find out if his tail was still there and found it gone, which accounted for his lack of balance. Once more, he lifted his hands and directed his attention to the mirror. He pushed back several strands and locks of hair near his ear, and found to his absolute shock –which he was real intimate with by now- them to be pointed. Not as elegantly as Heero's or Serena's, but more sharply curved.
He blinked. Twice.
Then let out a string of curses (thanks to a certain tree…) that would have given any battle-scarred priest a heart-attack, a coronary and a freaking stroke in quick succession under his breath as he pulled on the breeches.
He cursed his stupidity with scorching words never before heard in that particular order ever before.
Over five centuries as a beast, of course he wouldn't turn back into a human so simply. Chances were, he'd never be human again (That and he noticed he had acquired quite the colorful vocabulary, obviously he had had too much time on his claws, er, hands).
'But as a human, you would have died. Serena would have continued to live, look as young as she does now even as you grew into an old foggy.' A cocky little voice stated smugly. Trowa's clawed hands twitched as that fact was thrown into his face like that.
Foggy? Trowa decided that he hated the voice.
'Hate me all you want, but you know that I am not lying. So, neah heah.' Unknown voice sniffed disdainfully then commenced laughing like a demented badger. He had the distinct impression that this voice was sticking its tongue out, and wagging a finger at him.
Trowa, with his shirt half on, sweat-dropped.
Why did he have to deal with such lunatics?
Duo, Quatre –especially Quatre- Wufei, that vampire(who was ashes to ashes, dust to dust now), a few other nameless entities, then Serena and Heero, now he was hearing voices!
Good lord.
As calmly as anyone could be, considering the situation, Serena perched on the edge of the bed and twiddled her thumbs waiting.
I'm sure you know whom she was waiting for but just to clarify; she was waiting for Trowa. Her soul-mate, as it was. Unconsciously, one hand reached up and felt the tips of her ears as she thought of everything that had happened to her in the past seventy-two hours.
It was all so mind-boggling!
Dude, it's just like reindeer trying to make a pyramid*! Er…..that came out of the blue and/or yellow.
That and she couldn't believe that the man she had believed to be her father wasn't. She had loved him, trusted him….well, sort of anyways. But still, she'd been dependant on him no matter how bossy he was.
Fat lot of good that did her. The greedy bastard. One question though? Why did he have her mother killed? Serena decided that the best person to ask would be the fake himself.
She sighed, and rubbed her temples. Having to deal with that and Darien was not at all appealing to her, but at least, maybe, she'd have both Heero and Trowa there with her. And Relena. (No, best to keep her confined to her pink-happy-room. There was padding in there. She couldn't hurt herself.)
Heero…so, should she start calling him daddy now? And speaking of which, Serena remembered how someone, Heero perhaps for it certainly could not have been her father carrying her to bed as she'd once told Trowa. She just wanted to make sure….oh, Jesus, this was all so tiring and confusing.
While Serena was figuring ways to figure things out, Quatre and Duo were dealing with their own issues. Well, more like Quatre was watching Duo deal with separation anxiety as well as acute loss. Why?
Heh, because Duo was as bald as a baby's bum.
Another issue was that they were slowly growing. Duo hadn't noticed it yet, what with all his spazzing-out. But Quatre, who was rather proud of his soft and silky full head of hair had, and was rather leery as to what it meant exactly….
Especially seeing as how Trowa had been injured. For all they knew the beast could have croaked and kicked the bucket. Or, by some not-so-small-miracle, Trowa had managed to become human again. Which, coincidentally, meant that a certain female had to have told him she loved him and he had returned those feelings.
Jealousy reared it's happy little self and started pricking at Quatre's heart whispering bad little nothings to him. Quatre snarled silently, afraid to gather Duo's fleeting attention.
Suddenly, he sighed and shook his head. What was with him lately? PMS or something? Good lord, he hoped not. He sincerely hoped not.
When they reached a foot in height Duo finally noticed that he was growing. His hands still over his baldness, he looked behind him to see that the wings were still there and were growing with him, instead of shrinking.
Whoo, he thought, what a relief. Concentrating, Duo imagined his hair back to its regular length. With moments, his hair had reached four inches and he had his bangs back. In a minute, it was to his shoulders. It continued to grow at paranormal rates.
That ladies and gents was were the idea for Rogaine came from! The first ever advertisement for it too. Behold, magic exists even today. Scientists just wanted to be unique and called it science, then build machines to contain it. Unfortunately, they don't work half as great as the real thing. And potions, don't even get me started on them.
Finally, Duo had a luxurious head of hair and was looking quite pleased with his handy work. "There you go baby, daddy's here. I missed you. Yes I did." Duo cooed to the despondent hair, while said hair just…sat there. Looking for all the world like….hair. Which it was. So why the hell am I trying to give the hair a freaking personality?
I must be on crack or something….ye gads.
Or maybe…speed? Nah, something weirder. Ah, who the fluff cares? Anyways.
Oh floof, Quatre humphed and crossed his arms to sulk as his eyes took in the sickening sight of Duo gushing to his hair like some macabre father. It was just so….so…UGH!
What kind of freak talks to his hair anyways?
Well, freaks of the future talk to their cars….but that's off the subject. I keep doing that. I bet you all want to shut me up right? Duct tape, yes? You know, I have a thought. And this thought is that duct tape is like the Force. It's got a light side and a dark side, and it sticks things together. Alright, alright, I'll shut up. You don't have to yell, it hurts my ears. Meanie.
It was only by the strength of Trowa's will that he did not start freaking out right there. And, believer you me, he has a lot of will; five hundred years can do that, you know.
Voices! He was hearing voices. One voice, if one wanted to be technical, but it was a voice naetheless.
It figures that he'd snap right when he was beginning to turn human; go bonkers. Yes, that was just his luck wasn't it? Ahh, but then, it made life all the more interesting if not a bit of a pain in the ass.
Abruptly he started chuckling at his sudden change of mind.
'Yeah, yeah, laugh it up you ingrate.' The voice snapped in annoyance. 'Honestly. Why do I even bother trying to help you people? Mindless Peons. Ungrateful wretches the lot of you.'
Trowa just ignored the raging entity and slid out of the screened of room, intent on kissing the living daylights out of Serena. Something he could do know that he had the lips for it.
'Ugh, I think I'm going to hurl.'
The voice was merrily ignored. Again.
End Chapter.
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*-the reindeer comment was about that new cartoon thingy with Adam Sandler in it. You know, Eight Crazy Nights. I just kinda thought it was hilarious, thank you. And it was very random.
That, and there is the matter of the next chapter. Don't worry, I'm not going to drop the nuclear bomb and tell you there wont be one. It's just that my grandpa has come to visit and I am not sure how long it will take me to get the next chapter out. Rest assured that I will try to get it out soon. ::Sweat-drops:: Whenever soon is….mou.
But, see? I made this chapter longer to make up for the last one's sucking of arse-ness. Forgive me?
Joke. (this really happened between me and a friend. Hey, FRIEND, if your reading this, you know who you are. I just got a hoot out of this and decided to exploit it.): ::Silver walks towards Friend, waving a pack of chewy starbursts.:: This, this right here, is my salvation. This will keep me alive. ::Opens it:: Ah, bliss. ::Hands one to Friend.::
Friend: Become the starburst, be one with the starburst, breath the starburst.
Silver: ::Swallows the one she was chewing, while starting oddly at Friend, though she really had no room to talk.:: Yeah, and the next thing you know is the thing's stuck up your nose and you're flailing and saying, "I can't get it out, It's wedged in there." I'd rather eat it, thank you. :: Continues to open her strawberry one while Friend laughs like a demented badger. Silver soon cracks and joins her.::
Advise: Don't get intimate with Starbursts? ::Scratches head.:: I had a good bit of advise but….easy come, easy go; you know? …..Ah, yes, now I remember. Perhaps the greatest gifts you could ever give someone, are things of the heart. Like a smile when they are down, a shoulder to cry on, something steady to lean against when their world has been turned upside down, making them laugh when all they want to do is cry, and loving them with all you have just to prove that they are worth it.