"Hi everyone, I'm Chris C and this is my first attempt at a fanfic, so
please go easy on the mauling. I'm fortunate enough to be writing with
Spiffy, formerly known as Jupiterhalo, and I'd just like to thank her for
getting me into this. This chapter just picks up from chapter 1, with
Endymion thinking about his mission, so without further ado_."
Disclaimer: We don't own Sailor Moon or its characters in any way, shape or form.
Title: Past Lives
Authors: JupiterHalo and Chris C.
Rating: PG
Part: 2/?
Date completed: June 25, 2001
****** means a change of scene from the Moon Kingdom to the story and vice versa
@~~~~~ means a change of scene in the story
"..." means a character is talking
'...' means a character is thinking
Spalsh. A cascade of droplets leapt violently out at the impact of leather, falling like shimmering diamonds onto the nearby ground. Endymion held back the urge to swear aloud. Looking down at his soaking boot, he carefully stepped around the glistening puddle and continued his slow trudge through the marketplace. The gathering clouds glowered with scarcely restrained rage, but their appearance belied the light downpour that he was experienceing. Hood down, cloak firmly clasped around his body, Endymion turned his mind to the task at hand. Kidnap the Princess? The absence of 'how's' and 'why's' in his orders had become the norm, but although he enjoyed a good challenge, this would take a great deal of care. He knew what he was going to do, though. He would head back to the barracks, but not to meet up with his colleagues, companions, whatever they were calling themselves nowadays. No, he was headed to that quiet corner of the world that he liked to think of as his won, where he could be alone with his thoughts.
With a screaming yell and a vicious slap, a mother dragged her son under the relative shelter of the market stall, where he wiped the fruit that he had to clean and his tears in equal proportions. His mother, a huge smile on her face, was gossiping with one of her friends as she weighed out some rotting apples for an eager customer, oblivious to the cries of a baby coming from within the shop.
Endymion's mind left that vivid scene, and began to wander by itself. "Loner, loser" sneered a shaved brute of a face, as he reflected on his childhood. There it was, distilled to its very essence, his memory of what most people call their happiest days. He remember too many days tucked away in the corner of the playground with a book, reading and imagining a life and yet never daring to live one. Sure, he kept himself to himself. But he didn't deserve the ritual abuse from the other boys, nor the punishment he received when he gave those bullies a dose of what he saw as "social medicine". The fights happened so often that he was guilty until proven innocent in their minds. So, he became even more reclusive, not even responding to the taunts of the others. "Nothing wrong with wanting to be alone" he thought to himself. After all, that was where he was heading, to be by his own, to think.
"You want it, we got a it, low prices and no questions!" A rude voice pierced his veil of silent contemplation, and Endymion lazily lifted his eyes from the dirt track to glance at a another yelling face, an animated middle aged man, seemingly attempting to fly in his efforts to persuade customers. His face was an enthusiastic pink, and his well rounded stomach draped in a threadbare brown cloth convinced Endymion that he his performances were somewhat successful.
He returned to his ponderings, as he recollected his joining of the Dark kingdom. There he was, the day he had been expelled from school, for doing nothing but sticking up for himself. The tide of anger swept over him as he bitterly recalled the pain of that day. He thought he would die, with no parents and now no education. But then a smart looking uniformed man came to him with the opportunity of a lifetime, to join a cause that would give him wealth and power. "No", thought Endymion, "Its not that I'm greedy. But power over those who had callously destroyed his youth, the bullies and their allies, his teachers, that's worth working for." He remembered how he had risen through the ranks, his intelligence a singular strength of mind taking him above and beyond the rest, until he had been promoted to a special branch, and had begun to receive unusual and difficult assignments.
He suddenly caught a glimpse of colour in the corner of his eye, a splash of radiance that was never present in this dank grime ridden market, and his curiosity was piqued. He raised his field of vision, and inhaled sharply. Walking cautiously and nervously through the regular throng, her expensive looking red high heeled shoes making it awkward in the mud, was a girl. Endymion's mind performed a swift investigation. The cloak, yes, that fitted in perfectly with the surroundings, tattered and torn as much as the people were here, but the rest…., well, the cloak did not entirely conceal her luxurious white dress underneath. She was certainly not what she seemed. Just as he began to look closer, from the shadowy cowl of the hood blond locks peeped out, and two amazing, bedazzling, enchanting blue eyes leapt out and transfixed him with their stare. And Endymion just stopped. A vision of flawless skin, perfect appearance and those eyes…., and in a moment it was gone. Endymion felt a sharp flow in the small of his back as an impatient shopper bumped into his statue. He tumbled into what felt like the wettest deepest puddle in the whole marketplace, and the rain continued to lash him.
please go easy on the mauling. I'm fortunate enough to be writing with
Spiffy, formerly known as Jupiterhalo, and I'd just like to thank her for
getting me into this. This chapter just picks up from chapter 1, with
Endymion thinking about his mission, so without further ado_."
Disclaimer: We don't own Sailor Moon or its characters in any way, shape or form.
Title: Past Lives
Authors: JupiterHalo and Chris C.
Rating: PG
Part: 2/?
Date completed: June 25, 2001
****** means a change of scene from the Moon Kingdom to the story and vice versa
@~~~~~ means a change of scene in the story
"..." means a character is talking
'...' means a character is thinking
Spalsh. A cascade of droplets leapt violently out at the impact of leather, falling like shimmering diamonds onto the nearby ground. Endymion held back the urge to swear aloud. Looking down at his soaking boot, he carefully stepped around the glistening puddle and continued his slow trudge through the marketplace. The gathering clouds glowered with scarcely restrained rage, but their appearance belied the light downpour that he was experienceing. Hood down, cloak firmly clasped around his body, Endymion turned his mind to the task at hand. Kidnap the Princess? The absence of 'how's' and 'why's' in his orders had become the norm, but although he enjoyed a good challenge, this would take a great deal of care. He knew what he was going to do, though. He would head back to the barracks, but not to meet up with his colleagues, companions, whatever they were calling themselves nowadays. No, he was headed to that quiet corner of the world that he liked to think of as his won, where he could be alone with his thoughts.
With a screaming yell and a vicious slap, a mother dragged her son under the relative shelter of the market stall, where he wiped the fruit that he had to clean and his tears in equal proportions. His mother, a huge smile on her face, was gossiping with one of her friends as she weighed out some rotting apples for an eager customer, oblivious to the cries of a baby coming from within the shop.
Endymion's mind left that vivid scene, and began to wander by itself. "Loner, loser" sneered a shaved brute of a face, as he reflected on his childhood. There it was, distilled to its very essence, his memory of what most people call their happiest days. He remember too many days tucked away in the corner of the playground with a book, reading and imagining a life and yet never daring to live one. Sure, he kept himself to himself. But he didn't deserve the ritual abuse from the other boys, nor the punishment he received when he gave those bullies a dose of what he saw as "social medicine". The fights happened so often that he was guilty until proven innocent in their minds. So, he became even more reclusive, not even responding to the taunts of the others. "Nothing wrong with wanting to be alone" he thought to himself. After all, that was where he was heading, to be by his own, to think.
"You want it, we got a it, low prices and no questions!" A rude voice pierced his veil of silent contemplation, and Endymion lazily lifted his eyes from the dirt track to glance at a another yelling face, an animated middle aged man, seemingly attempting to fly in his efforts to persuade customers. His face was an enthusiastic pink, and his well rounded stomach draped in a threadbare brown cloth convinced Endymion that he his performances were somewhat successful.
He returned to his ponderings, as he recollected his joining of the Dark kingdom. There he was, the day he had been expelled from school, for doing nothing but sticking up for himself. The tide of anger swept over him as he bitterly recalled the pain of that day. He thought he would die, with no parents and now no education. But then a smart looking uniformed man came to him with the opportunity of a lifetime, to join a cause that would give him wealth and power. "No", thought Endymion, "Its not that I'm greedy. But power over those who had callously destroyed his youth, the bullies and their allies, his teachers, that's worth working for." He remembered how he had risen through the ranks, his intelligence a singular strength of mind taking him above and beyond the rest, until he had been promoted to a special branch, and had begun to receive unusual and difficult assignments.
He suddenly caught a glimpse of colour in the corner of his eye, a splash of radiance that was never present in this dank grime ridden market, and his curiosity was piqued. He raised his field of vision, and inhaled sharply. Walking cautiously and nervously through the regular throng, her expensive looking red high heeled shoes making it awkward in the mud, was a girl. Endymion's mind performed a swift investigation. The cloak, yes, that fitted in perfectly with the surroundings, tattered and torn as much as the people were here, but the rest…., well, the cloak did not entirely conceal her luxurious white dress underneath. She was certainly not what she seemed. Just as he began to look closer, from the shadowy cowl of the hood blond locks peeped out, and two amazing, bedazzling, enchanting blue eyes leapt out and transfixed him with their stare. And Endymion just stopped. A vision of flawless skin, perfect appearance and those eyes…., and in a moment it was gone. Endymion felt a sharp flow in the small of his back as an impatient shopper bumped into his statue. He tumbled into what felt like the wettest deepest puddle in the whole marketplace, and the rain continued to lash him.