Disclaimers; Don't own them. Except Rowan... She's mine. But the rest belong to Sega! All bow to the All Powerful, All Mighty… Sega! *Ummmmmmmmmmmmm*
*Twaps those who aren't bowing*
Sonic: "Ow! *Clutches his head* What the Hell was that for!?"
Orin; "You weren't bowing."
Sonic; *Glare* "Then hit Red! He wasn't bowing either!"
Orin; "No!"
Knuckles; *Grin*Sonic; *Looking indignant* "Why not?!"
Orin; "Don't you think I've tortured him enough?"
Sonic; *Looks at the still smiling Knuckles* "Hell no!"
Knuckles; "Hey! You're supposed to be on my side!"
Sonic; "Works both ways, Red. Since when has my pain been funny to you?"
Knuckles; "Why is my pain 'always' funny to you…?"
Sonic; "Uhh…." *shrugs* "I dunno… Just is."
Knuckles; *Gives a satisfied nod* "There you go. Okay Orin…"
Orin; *Twaps Sonic again*Sonic; OW! Damnit!"
Some warnings here... There'll be flashbacks and some back stories in this fic... You should be able to recognize them pretty quickly when you encounter them... There'll also be dream scenes... Again there should be recognizable very quickly.
WINTERHEART: Every Scar Is A Lesson Remembered.
Chapter 3Every Rose Has Its Thorn.
*****
"The aim of life is to live, and to live means to be aware; joyously; drunkenly; serenely; divinely aware."
*****
The heels of his sneakers echoed as he ran, a long uninterrupted rapping. It resounded around him at each step Sonic took. Only, his feet moved so fast that each individual resonant step bled into the next in a strange harmony. He moved up the stairwell with the practiced ease of someone accustomed to stairs - he rarely used the elevator. For Sonic, running was quicker.
And anyone with eyes to see, would notice the urgency to his steps.
His heartbeat was hammering loudly in his chest; not exertion, but anxiety. He was faintly terrified. It had taken moments for the stranger's words to register, but by then he was already halfway to the top of the building.
Amy… they're trying to take her… robots… everywhere….
It was all it took. All he needed.
Flights of stairs disappeared beneath his feet. Sonic may as well have been flying.
The sprinting hedgehog burst through the doors at the top floor. It had to be the top - there was no more stairs. The rooftop must be blocked off. Not pausing to look, he tore down the decorated hallway toward number seventeen…
Not her. First him, then-
Now her.
He would not lose another-
He would not!
It was immediately obvious that the group of invading robots were not expecting help to arrive. Neither were they expecting that help to come crashing through solid wooden doors. Turning their surprise to his advantage, Sonic attacked ferociously, moving before they could decide on what to do. His moves were blurred; kicks and spins flashing up to a pace of unbound fury.
He was snarling.
It was because of them and their kind - all Robotnik's kind that he was forced to fight. To live in the shadows of a forest. Struggling for the thing inherent to every living creature by right.
Freedom.
To anyone watching the battle, he might very well have been some thing maddened - or possessed.
It was because of them that people lost their free will, their right to choose. Their lives.
Those… things… abominations.
Sonic's strength was well above average, but his speed lent him a diabolic force behind every strike. His fists may was well have been jackhammers.
It was because of them-Sonic struck at one, then wove out of sight, ducked beneath the laser fire, then countered, landing a blow. And again. Then the rhythm would change, the beat would move faster. His feet hardly touched the ground.
It was because of them-The tempo of the dance flashed all the way up to a demonic speed. Chairs were cast aside, something shattered as metal smashed into glass. A vase. Water spilled, wood broke, blood rushed… And every landed blow was a release for Sonic. He had waited and held off for what seemed like centuries. And for once the pain to his own fists as they pounded through metal was sweeter than the sight of the bruised alloy.
It was because of them-They were just automatons. They had no consciousness, no sense of being or existing. No soul. In that sense, they were not alive.
Sonic wanted to kill them anyway.
And then the instant passed, and the hedgehog found himself standing amid a pile of smoking rubble, slightly dazed that it was over - and they were gone.
He was gone…Pain darkened eyes focused briefly on the smashed-in metal head in his hands. With a grimace, he flung the offending thing away.
No more.
Just like that.
The battle had lasted no longer than a few heartbeats. He was not even out of breath. Still silently raging, Sonic turned. Only then did the original reason for his urgency come back to him, and his eyes darted around the devastated room in alarm. Broken glass, shattered chairs, wood from his own battle… The walls were scarred with laser fire and still smoking.
His eyes were drawn to the pile of trampled roses on the floor, of his own making. The red petals were mashed into a pulp on the hardwood planking. They looked like bloodstains. Sonic felt something inside him begin to crack. A sharp reflection to the shards of broken glass littered around him.
He was too late. She was gone-
All over again….
Then, the shredded couch moved, and after a moment, overturned. Amy Rose stood from a crouch on unsteady feet. Her eyes too, drifted to the broken vase, darkened floor, and bloody rose petals.
She looked older than Sonic remembered. She 'was' older then he had last seen her. Soft spines framed her face, swinging with every movement of her head. She lifted a hand to sweep a stray hair from her eyes. They were a striking green. It was a different shade to his own - very close - but still different. Her fur was a pale rose. Sonic called it 'pink', but as he remembered, Amy preferred the title of 'rose' better.
She had changed. It was something more than her gained height, or the curves on her slender frame that had not been present on their last meeting.
It was something else.
Her hand strayed to the couch as she moved around it slowly. Broken glass crunched underfoot. Sonic stepped forward to meet her, holding out a gloved had.
"Come on, Amy, before this whole place goes up in flames."
Her gaze flitted to him, then away. And then, ignoring his upturned palm, she knelt next to the shattered vase. At a loss, Sonic dropped his hand slowly, keeping his eyes on her.
"Amy…"
Slim fingers caught a battered rose and almost reverently, Amy lifted it. Frowning, Sonic tried again, "Amy, didn't you hear me? I said we have to-"
"Get out," she said in a fierce whisper. Sonic's eyes jerked to her face, startled. Her words finished his sentence for him, but their tone; their tone was wrong. So wrong. Unfamiliar.
And then Sonic realized.
Her eyes.
It was her eyes.
Sonic had never been the romantic type. He tended to brush over the finer points of romanticism. Gush and mush had never been his strong point. But the image of Amy's eyes came to him again, even as her gaze burned him once more. Like jewels. Strange, hard and foreign. Cold.
Hate. He could see it as though her eyes whispered the word into the silence.
There had been no elated exclamation of surprise at his rescue. No breathless look of adoration. No suffocating embrace once the battle was won. Nothing. Save two simple words, hard, but not harder than the image of those eyes.
Those eyes that were still glaring at Sonic with burning resentment, narrowed in their intensity. It was a familiar sensation. It reminded him of that near fatal encounter as he had reached out a helping hand to the Guardian - only to have it slashed at. Instinctively, but not knowing why, Sonic found himself taking a step back. There was no triumph to Amy's expression at her strange victory. Instead her face twisted with open emotion.
"You're just like them," she spat, "You're all the same!"
The frayed rose shook in her hands as she shot to her feet, it's head bent over as though in mourning. Sonic tensed, the confusion and disquiet rushing through him intensifying with each heartbeat. In a powerless gesture, he spread his hands in supplication, stumbling over his words.
"What're-" he stopped, then helplessly, tried again, "Amy-"
"I saw you." she whispered, her voice straining as though she could hardly force the words out. She was trembling. "I saw you!" she cried.
Sonic's heart quickened at the accusation. He fell still, shocked into silence, his body still with sudden anguish - and understanding. Her hand lifted, and, trembling, she pointed. Her fingertip held all the piercing bite of the sharpest blade for Sonic.
"You enjoyed it! You-"
Her words were cut off as a barrage of bullets ripped through the balcony doors in a cacophony of sound. Thoughts and shock discarded, Sonic shot forward, leaping toward the smaller hedgehog. He knocked her to the ground without a sound, rolled, and pinned her beneath him, ignoring her fury. She shoved at him, but he was stronger, and older; the gesture was futile. Amy had no hope.
The rose lay where it had fallen, forgotten. Crushed beneath their combined weight.
"Let me up!" she hissed. She was furious, but Sonic refused to budge. Instead he caught up her beating fists in his own hands and held them to his chest. Amy's sound of protest was cut short by his own retort.
"Listen to me! I don't know what the hell your problem is, and I don't care!" He punctuated his words by pinning her arms over her head and glaring at her, suddenly furious himself.
"Trust me!" he demanded, "Now! Work with me here, or neither of us will make it out alive!"
Her expression did not change.
Taking a surreptitious breath to steady himself, Sonic held on to his frayed nerves, reigning the temper in, the one that wanted to snatch Amy up and throw her over his shoulder, protests be damned. But that was too dangerous. And the distant flames sounded suddenly so much louder than they had been minutes before.
"Do you want to die?" he tried again, after he was certain he could continue sounding impartial.
"Of course not!-"
"You will if you keep this up."
Her look was anguished. A strangled sob tore itself from her throat. She shook her head in denial, but she no longer struggled against him. With a silent sigh, Sonic relaxed against her, for a moment laying his head on her shoulder in relief.
Soft fur… She was warm. And she smelled of roses.
"I'm your only ticket outta here," he murmured against her ear. "Whether you like it or not."
Silence once more and still trembling, with anger or hate or fear, he did not know. But she gave him a reluctant nod.
His sigh of relief was audible, even to her. But Sonic did not care. Hauling himself to his feet, Amy in tow, he took a good look at his surroundings with a clearer head for the first time. A group of robots thundered their way into the room from the deserted hallway as he did so, blocking their exit and aiming their large chaingun-like weapons at Sonic and Amy. Beyond the robots, there was a tearing sound, followed by an abrupt roaring from the hallway. Then the machines were illuminated in flickering hues of orange and red.
Fire - then Robots…
Sonic surmised they were not the rescue party.
Spherical bodies and shoulders, their heads were small and protected by their larger torso's. They almost looked like the old ZTA models, or Eggrobo's as Sonic called them. Almost. If one did not take into account the hideously twisted spikes that adorned their shoulders and heads. Though the hatefully glowing eyes had not changed. Mirroring their creator.
Sonic had to admit; Robotnik had grown quite a creative streak in recent years. The hedgehog had to give him points on inventiveness at least.
He eyed the guns apprehensively as the machines shuffled closer.
And the madman at least had them well prepared…
Sonic gave a mental groan - he hated guns. His eyes darted over the room like quicksilver. No time to fight. No room to fight. Not if he wanted to protect Amy. He wanted to protect Amy. He had to protect Amy. Exit blocked. Guns.
Retreat…?The hedgehog gave a glance behind him. Walls… windows… a balcony… with the ground, hundreds of feel below them.
In an instant, Sonic made his decision.
"Moment of truth," he muttered. He turned back to Amy, and louder, "Do you trust me?"
He hoped she heard him over the roar of the not-too-distant-flames.
No answer, just hopeless hesitation. She did not. She hated him, he saw it in her eyes. Sonic gritted his teeth. The robot's trigger fingers tightened on their weapons.
"Amy!"
There were tears in her eyes.
"Will you let me help you?!"
It would have to be enough. Trust would have to wait. For the moment cooperation would do. Amy's lips parted slowly.
"Yes."
And then the air was filled with the roar of gunfire.
*****
The fox clasped at the blue-gray mug in her hands, dividing her attention for an instant between the twin-tailed companion next to her, and the turmoil before her. Though in the end, it was the spicy aroma of the mug that won her favor. The heat of the liquid had warmed the ceramics, and that in turn warmed her hands so that they no longer ached with each separating joint. Rowan leaned forward a little, bringing the swirling contents up and sniffed the rich hint of it's contents. It's heat gave her an excuse to be cautious in drinking it - the night was cold… She also had no idea what it was, so regarded it a trifle warily - as did she the fox by her side.
But Tails's concentration was also fixed on the burning building.
"Thank you," she muttered, before taking a sip. The kitsune barely blinked an eyelid her way. He did throw her a half-hearted nod though. But she could not blame him for his distraction.
She had quickly wearied of the blaze. The flames hurt her eyes and she blinked sleepily, trying to muster herself back up to full alertness. But she was exhausted, despite all that had happened, and all that was still happening. The heat seeped into her bones, and with that heat came relaxation.
Then there was that steady beat…
Rowan blinked - and then glanced down. Tails was tapping his left foot impatiently.
Her eyes lifted again, and at the second look to his face, she wondered how he could stay so still. He was as taunt as a bow-string. Every sinew was singing - she could see him holding himself back. The fire cast dancing patterns of light and shadow across his face and fur. His tails flicked back and forth behind him unconsciously. He looked nothing like the carefree young Freedom Fighter he was supposed to be in that instant. At least, not how she had imagined him to be.
On impulse, she hugged the blanket tighter around herself. Again, this was not from the cold - though the night was freezing - but rather for the comfort. It was a shelter - however meager - in the long night. The situation was too surreal to her to be real. Perhaps in the morning, by dawn's light or daylight, she could finally believe. She did not want to. Station Square was past all of the chaos. It was finally healing, rebuilding in the ruins. She did not want more of the violence. She knew Amy did not either…
She clenched her eyes shut in sudden desperation.
Amy….
Again, it was a noise from Tails that brought her back to focus. A soft, frustrated tone that sounded almost like a growl. He had walked a little distance from her, and was on his way to pacing back. Uncertain of herself, Rowan coughed to get his attention.
Not even a flicker.
She coughed again, louder.
Nothing. He was still pacing though, and getting closer…
Abandoning subtlety, she grabbed his arm. Tails jumped with a startled yelp. Then he glared at her - and at the mug of cooling liquid she was offering him.
"Keep it," he said shortly.
So, she pulled it back to her, but did not lessen her grip of his arm. He continued to glare at her a moment longer. It was a fierce look for someone so young. She guessed he must only have been in his teens - fifteen or sixteen at most - but that look… It did not sit well with her. It was too intense for such a youthful face.
Eventually, when he must have realized that she was not about to release him, his glare transformed into a frown; and then into a scowl as he noticed Rowan eyeing his double-tails.
"I'd use them," he told her, "But between the smoke and the darkness…"
He trailed off, leaving his sense of futility unsaid. Rowan suddenly understood; It must be tormenting him… Standing there, useless, unable to follow his comrade into the mire.
She let him go.
Muteness between them, turbulence around them.
Then; "How did you find me?"
Rowan cast him a half-glare of her own. He was looking away, fire dancing in his eyes, in a combination of azure and crimson that for an instant matched her own odd eyes. But his were only a reflection from the inferno before them.
"How many two-tailed foxes do you know?" she cut back sharply.
Tails had the grace to looked sheepish, despite himself. He shrugged.
"Never mind," was all he said.
Then she watched him settle on a certain resolve as he tore his gaze from the pyre again and fixed it on her. It was almost… timid…
"I didn't know why he went in…" he explained quietly. Apologetic. "I-"
She cut him off quickly.
"I know. I guessed. You looked spooked."
That scowl again. He folded his arms, and for the first time since their encounter, he looked his age. Just a kid, full of righteous indignation, out to prove a point. She almost smiled.
"Wouldn't you?!" he snapped.
Reigning in her sudden mirth, and thinking how unsuitable it was, she nodded appropriately.
"Of course."
Slightly mollified at that, he gave a small sniff. His look softened.
"Well…" he amended, "Thanks."
A that, Rowan did smile. A very tiny smile, just a curve of lips really. But it was a smile nevertheless. She tilted her head in a manner she knew infuriated some people.
"We're even."
He looked at her. She held up the mug and shouldered the blanket. His own mouth twitched suspiciously.
It was the sudden eruption of fire on the topmost floor that brought both of them to a horrified halt. The flames were licking at the sky, even as the fire-service robots swarmed around them as ineffectual as bees, trying to bring the blaze back under control.
Rowan's hot drink lay shattered on the ground beneath her, forgotten. Her hands covered her mouth as sudden terror washed over her.
"Oh God…." A whisper, soft and panic-stricken. "They'll never get out."
Tails' expression was hard. He looked older than he should, and almost weary. But his voice was strong and steady.
"He's Sonic the Hedgehog," he established grimly, "He always gets out."
His tone held no boast. Tails said the words plainly, simply, as though they were pure fact, and nothing more. But Rowan heard the hint of bitterness - or was it regret - and wondered.
Her heart twisted in her at the thought of the blazing inferno rising into the night. The skyline was only smoke, and though the fire was on it's way to being put out, the top floors were engulfed in flames. Her apartment was up there… Hers an Amy's.
She had not known her very long. Two years. Bearing in mind her lifetime - ten years more than Amy's- Rowan considered two years as short time. But Amy was still a friend. The hedgehog was one of those people who could listen, and not judge. Yes, she was outspoken at times, but her cheerful attitude made those around her forgive her nearly instantly for anything blurted out of line.
To put it simply; Amy Rose was different.
The desert fox had known that from the instant she had seen her. It was not especially obvious, only that she had first met Amy in her restaurant, breaking the hedgehog out of a day-dream. She did that a lot.
It had not taken them long to strike up a friendship. And it had not taken long for her to discover that Amy's dreams - day or night - were more than just dreams. If she ever had the nerve to say it, Rowan could confess that Amy's 'talent' frightened her more than just a little.
Dreams were one thing, but premonitions?
Even thing's simpler than that. Something as plain as the hedgehog reaching out to correct a toppling glass; just as Rowan's hand collided with it - never even raising her eyes from the morning paper she happened to be reading.
Some called it 'second sight'.
Rowan called it freaky.
Amy did not mind though. The hedgehog knew that her friend was only half-serious. And that Rowan would be there when she needed her, as she had been in times past.
Rowan's mismatched eyes glittered furiously.
"He'd better get her out," she declared in sudden fierceness, "Or I'll flay him. Then I'll hang him from the nearest flagpole and keep his spines as a trophy."
She limped off into the darkness, leaving a blinking Tails standing in her wake.
"That fox has issues," he decided quietly, eyes on her retreating form.
The kitsune shook his head in brief bewilderment. Then he turned his attention back to the commotion. His eyes searched the topmost parts of the building, for something - anything.
Sonic had gone in, Rowan had told him as much. She had also told him why. And then his concern had doubled. He was young, and he was reminded of this fact often enough. But most people did not take into account that Tails had been fighting almost as long as Sonic, and that he had started younger than the hedgehog.
He was only fifteen, but the fox could not remember a time without Robotnik. His earliest memories were of the forest, a place he regarded as his home more than any other. The Freedom Fighters were his family. Sonic may as well have been his brother.
Sonic…
Bright green eyes - they never changed really. They were filled with a certain light that could set others at ease, and that did nothing at all to show the amount of death and pain they had witnessed in the span of his nineteen years. The casual way in which the hedgehog moved belied the energy crackling just beneath the surface, and his often goofy actions cleverly masked the rapid-fire movements of his thoughts.
With an ever ready - and often infuriating - grin and a mouth that could move a mile a minute. Quite often jumping from one subject to another with a speed that left the rest straggling to keep up. And then the sheer irreverence with which he showed royalty, authority, rules, protocol… everything… At times, it was difficult to imagine Sonic as the hope he truly was.
But one in a while - not very often - but now and then, if Tails looked hard enough, fast enough, he would see something that did not appear to belong there. It was a wisdom and intelligence that did not quite seem in jive with the rest of the image Sonic presented. His eyes, they were eyes that seemed far older than the youthful face; eyes that spoke to Tails of things better left unsaid; eyes that someone could drown in if they were not careful.
But, it was only now and then. Not really often at all.
And it was only if you cared enough to look beyond what you expected to see.
To outside eyes, Sonic looked like an average enough hedgehog. A little flair, some arrogance, a lot of speed. But nothing more. Not really. To most.
Not to Tails.
Perhaps it was because of the life he had lived. As a rebel and a Freedom Fighter, Tails was acutely aware of life. Once, with battle, simpler weapons were used - before lasers. Swords and lances or even maces. Then the battle became ritualized. Opponents circled, seeking openings, risking their lives. It took time, however short.
That was the way Sonic fought.
Tails half suspected it was because of that simple fact - living. Sonic never said it, but the fox had his suspicions. Sonic fought as an individual - in a group, yes - but still an individual. And as such, he lived each battle intensely. And each victory, each escape, even more so. He valued life, because he knew it's fragility. The hedgehog was aware, as perhaps no other, of the fraction of a heartbeat that separated him from becoming a corpse.
He had lived all his life with weapons, fighting against them. And Sonic hated guns with a vengeance.
Tails had never seen him use one. Neither did the fox use them willingly… But sometimes, he knew when situations demanded certain aid. He was not afraid to use this 'aid' if necessary. That was the difference between him and Sonic. Tails would be willing to suggest the means, if it would help him gain that freedom he had never experienced.
So, he worried. His foot began to tap out that timeless beat again on the cement ground, and Tails narrowed his eyes.
So much had happened, and in the midst of it all, people seemed to lose sight of what exactly had happened. It was for those few, who had experienced the events, who had lived to tell the tale, that the memory was still vivid for. For Tails, this was especially true. The fox could still smell the burning fires; the stench of melting metal; the hiss and snapping of the engulfing flames. And that last shattering explosion, the one that had ended a chapter in all of their lives, that was a sound he would hear echoing till his dying days.
They appeared to have forgotten that essentially, it was Tails who had caused Knuckles' death.
But the fox remembered. He would always hold the blame. Sonic did, Sally did, everyone did in their own way. But it was Tails who knew his to be truth. He had deserted. He had chosen; an impossible choice. But still, he had chosen; return or no.
And Knuckles paid the price.
He would never forget.
In that final farewell, Knuckles knew he would not return. Tails knew he could not. But he had hoped… But hope was useless sometimes, it was not enough to hope. He understood that at last, knowing it was learned too late, but learned nevertheless. And learned well. And the echidna held no blame towards him. He had seen that too in the somber nod, eyes steady and noble as always.
Knuckles had known he was going to die.
Perhaps, Tails had known too.
Oh, he had cried his share. Tugging a semi unconscious Sonic away from the pyre with blinding tears streaming down his cheeks, blaming it on the choking smoke. But the smoke had cleared eventually, and Tails had still been crying. He did not have enough tears for the sorrow he experienced. Or the guilt.
There were times when he tried to reason that it was Knuckles who had chosen. He had made - in part - Tails' judgment. He had struck Sonic down. But beyond that it had been the kitsune's choosing.
In the end it came down to one decision.
Sonic - or - Knuckles.
And because of that, Tails had cried.
But, he also valued that choice. It had been as Knuckles wanted. Yes, he was to blame. But he would be damned if he would live in guilt as Sonic seemed intent on doing. Knuckles wanted them to live - he had given his life so that they could live.
In all that had happened, Sonic seemed to have lost sight of that.
Of course, Sonic's value of life itself, had risen several notches. Especially after… But now, where he was, Tails was afraid that the hedgehog would put himself in danger - Amy too - in order to get them out of the danger.
Using any means necessary…
*****
To Be Continued…*****
Right… There's some info in this chapter, which I'm sure some querulous fans out there will get all hoity-toity about.
Right.
I never pay attention to age differences in the games; books; comics - whatever. This is AU. So, same rule applies here.
Don't like it?
Go elsewhere.
*Sigh*
Since there was some information in this chapter about ages - for those who 'are' curious; here you go… Basically, Tails is fifteen in this. Amy is sixteen. I don't usually bother disclosing the ages I have the characters, but I have them older here, so I decided to make an exception… Um, Rowan is twenty-five. (Yeah, I know - old!)
Sonic is nineteen. Sally's not far off…
Guess how old Knuckles is.. go on… Guess…
……….
Eighteen!
ROTFLMAO! ^_________^
Knuckles: What!? You made me younger than Sonic!? Younger!? Are you insane!?"
Sonic; She's writing this, isn't she?"
Knuckles; O__o "Oh, yeah…" *Pauses and looks despairing* "But still… Younger?!"
Sonic; ^___^ "I think it's kinda cool… You're always older than me."
Knuckles; "That's because I am!" *Sighs then perks up* "Well, I'm more mature either way…"
Sonic; "No way!"
Knuckles: Yeah way- waitaminute…*Glares* I will not digress into a petty argument with you. Everyone knows I'm too mature."
Sonic; "Again - No way!"
Knuckles; ¬__¬ "I rest my case."
Orin; "Do you mind?
Sonic; ^__^ "Nope."
Knuckles; ^____^ "Not at all."
Orin; *Sigh* "This is AU people… Alternate Universe. Meaning I am GOD!… *Clears her throat* And I made you younger, because I wanted to highlight your maturity-"
Knuckles; "Hah!" *Points at Sonic and laughs* "Told you!"
Sonic; ¬___¬ "Oh yeah, Red… Reeeal mature."
Knuckles; -___-;; "Shut up."
Orin; *Growls* "AND…. *ahem* and…. Your naiveté… and your sense of duty. How things with you are sometimes out of balance-"
Sonic; *Chuckling* "See, Red. Not only are you naive, but you're also out of balance…"
Knuckles; "Thin ice, hedgehog… You're threading on very thin ice here…."
Sonic; "Ohhh… I'm scared… Look! *does a little dance* This is me being scared."
Orin; *Staring* I give up."
Knuckles; O___o "You… do?"
Sonic; o_____O *Stops dancing and looks hopeful* "Then… we can… go..?"
Orin; "NO!"
Sonic and Knuckles; *Sigh*
*Silence as Orin stomps off to post the fic*
Sonic; "Well… It was worth a try."
Knuckles; "Yeah. Maybe next time, huh?"
Sonic; *Sigh* "You wish!"
Orin; O______o;; "Sometimes I wonder 'bout those two…You'd think any promotion would be good..."
Anyway. Yes; I'm back. I have no idea how long this'll be for though, or if I'll continue this series to it's end. Maybe I just needed the break to find out exactly 'why' I was writing in the first place.
For me.
I started writing as an exercise, just to pass the time, waaay back before I ever knew Archie existed - since I grew up with the Fleetway version of Sonic all my early stories were based on that, rather than the SatAM version - which I adored incidentally.
But I'm getting off track. Like I did with this writing thing.
But now it's back to me. I'm writing for me now, no one else. (I've explained this a little more in the most recent fic posted after my break - Live and Learn - so you can go there if you're curious….) Or you can gripe and whine as you will. It's not going to change from now on. And it's important that I can take this fic at my own pace too… So threats won't help. Encouragement is nice of course; I love it! Who doesn't? Write away…It's nice to hear from someone who actually reads this stuff. Lol!
But really, I'm posting this stuff, in the off chance that someone actually takes the time out to read it, and -heaven forbid - actually thinks it's okay…
But, let me breathe…
Please?
Take care,
Orin.
