hehehe... konnichi wa. My fanfic-writing skills are a bit rusty from lying unused for so long, but I hope this fic will still manage to please, that I do. ^.^
A summary: angst, drama, multipart incomplete, romance S&M, Seisou Hen spoilers.
The story is still coalescing--or would "congealing" be more precise? ^.^ --in my head as I write, so I beggar your patience as the updates come. I'm just stealing time from schoolwork to scribble, but sometimes there just doesn't seem to be enough time to steal. @.@x also I beggar your input!! Please please be so kind as to post your comments and suggestions!!! ^.^
Enough blather eh? Standard disclaimers apply, then. Domo arigatou, as ever.
---
Yoake Mae no Yami ni
Mirune Keishiko
Prologue
Bright stars spangled the black-blue vastness that stretched from one mountainous horizon to another. Around a fire blazing high in the midst of the grassy plain, nearly fifty men of bulky build and roughly made clothes were gathered, the clink of clay vessels mingling with lively talk and raucous laughter. Tents, horses, and cattle loomed as monstrous shadows for miles around.
One man, lankier and taller than many of the others, sat on the ground some way apart from his comrades, head lowered as if brooding. His long, untamed hair was held out of his face with a headband, but his eyes remained in shadow. A cup at his side half full of heady drink had been sitting untouched for some time.
The distant, high-pitched cry of a hawk flying far overhead was lost to those making merry around the fire, but the tall man looked up, scanning the night sky intently. In the half-light of a sliver of moon a small shape circled, growing larger in the man's eyes as it dipped ever lower. Then, with a final screech of recognition, the hawk landed on the ground before the man and calmly folded its formidable wings. A small scrollcase was tied to its foot.
The man said something in gruff, affectionate tones, stealing a stroke along the hawk's plumed back before the great bird reared and snapped at his hand with its large, strong beak. Laughing, the man then got up and disappeared into a nearby tent for several moments. He reemerged and tossed two dead hares before the hawk, which eagerly set upon them. Thus occupied, the bird paid no attention to him as he knelt and untied the scrollcase.
It was a short message, in writing poignantly familiar. It took only a few minutes to read and reread the characters that were clearly and precisely formed despite the gravity of their meaning. The man stood unmoving for several minutes, staring off into space with dark unreadable eyes, the message crumpled into a suddenly fisted hand.
As the hawk dug into the second hare with particular vigor, a gout of dark, half-congealed blood spattered along the ground and onto the man's long pants. He broke from his reverie with a start and a good-natured curse, to which the hawk responded with a loud, placid chirp. Staring ruefully at the newly creased message, he carefully refolded it and tucked it into a pocket inside his coarse tunic. For another minute he stood there, eyes focused intensely at nothing.
Then he turned and walked back to the tent, leaving the hawk busily stripping the hares' bones. He would give himself half an hour to pack.
~ tsuzuku ~
A summary: angst, drama, multipart incomplete, romance S&M, Seisou Hen spoilers.
The story is still coalescing--or would "congealing" be more precise? ^.^ --in my head as I write, so I beggar your patience as the updates come. I'm just stealing time from schoolwork to scribble, but sometimes there just doesn't seem to be enough time to steal. @.@x also I beggar your input!! Please please be so kind as to post your comments and suggestions!!! ^.^
Enough blather eh? Standard disclaimers apply, then. Domo arigatou, as ever.
---
Yoake Mae no Yami ni
Mirune Keishiko
Prologue
Bright stars spangled the black-blue vastness that stretched from one mountainous horizon to another. Around a fire blazing high in the midst of the grassy plain, nearly fifty men of bulky build and roughly made clothes were gathered, the clink of clay vessels mingling with lively talk and raucous laughter. Tents, horses, and cattle loomed as monstrous shadows for miles around.
One man, lankier and taller than many of the others, sat on the ground some way apart from his comrades, head lowered as if brooding. His long, untamed hair was held out of his face with a headband, but his eyes remained in shadow. A cup at his side half full of heady drink had been sitting untouched for some time.
The distant, high-pitched cry of a hawk flying far overhead was lost to those making merry around the fire, but the tall man looked up, scanning the night sky intently. In the half-light of a sliver of moon a small shape circled, growing larger in the man's eyes as it dipped ever lower. Then, with a final screech of recognition, the hawk landed on the ground before the man and calmly folded its formidable wings. A small scrollcase was tied to its foot.
The man said something in gruff, affectionate tones, stealing a stroke along the hawk's plumed back before the great bird reared and snapped at his hand with its large, strong beak. Laughing, the man then got up and disappeared into a nearby tent for several moments. He reemerged and tossed two dead hares before the hawk, which eagerly set upon them. Thus occupied, the bird paid no attention to him as he knelt and untied the scrollcase.
It was a short message, in writing poignantly familiar. It took only a few minutes to read and reread the characters that were clearly and precisely formed despite the gravity of their meaning. The man stood unmoving for several minutes, staring off into space with dark unreadable eyes, the message crumpled into a suddenly fisted hand.
As the hawk dug into the second hare with particular vigor, a gout of dark, half-congealed blood spattered along the ground and onto the man's long pants. He broke from his reverie with a start and a good-natured curse, to which the hawk responded with a loud, placid chirp. Staring ruefully at the newly creased message, he carefully refolded it and tucked it into a pocket inside his coarse tunic. For another minute he stood there, eyes focused intensely at nothing.
Then he turned and walked back to the tent, leaving the hawk busily stripping the hares' bones. He would give himself half an hour to pack.
~ tsuzuku ~
