Rather important little note: This fic is not a fic at all. It is a conglomeration of small drabbles, pieces of stories that do not belong in any fic. These were all challenges, where a phrase and the word count were given to me, and I wrote something in response to the challenge. I like some of them, so I'm posting them here, in this story thing. New drabbles go into new chapters. None of them go together. They're just here.
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Challenge #1
Phrase: "You honestly think you can beat me?"
Word Count: 681
Rating: PG-13
Title: Mission Failed
Author: Rydia Highwind
Disclaimer: Metal Gear Solid and Metal Gear Solid 2 and all characters refered to herein belong to Konami. I claim nothing, I'm simply borrowing.
Summary: What goes through Raiden's mind as he's forced to take on Solidus?
Warning: Implications of non-con yaoi, Solidus/Raiden.
--
The wind is blowing outside, but not harshly or cruelly and he thinks maybe it should be.
He is tired of words, tired of voices. He once trusted people, but that trust doesn't exist anymore. He wonders what happens to emotions when one stops feeling them. He wonders if they are gone forever or if they are stored away in the back of his mind or something. He wonders because he doesn't know if he can feel that trust for anyone else, ever again. Everyone has betrayed him, everyone has taken away what little faith he'd offered, and now here he was, standing in the wind, dying.
He realizes now that no one is really evil. He realizes that no one is good either. Everyone he has met in the past twenty-four hours, or has already known for two years, six years, fifteen years--they are all working on their own agendas. They are all using him for their own ends, noble or otherwise. And these ends are all that matter to them; it doesn't matter that in the process of achieving those ends, they happen to decimate someone standing in the middle of it all.
Mission objective: don't go insane.
He isn't so innocent either, he supposes. He has cocked his gun, he has spilled blood--more blood than he can possibly remember. He has been used and moreover, he allowed himself to be used. He doesn't have an agenda to follow, though. He hasn't stepped on anyone, not willingly. He has taken what has been presented to him, and he has used it to get further. Yes, he hasn't been immune to using people to get ahead. Maybe this is justification for everything he has done and everything he has let happen. Maybe there would be justice after all.
Morality is nothing. Everyone is the same. Stay alive, they said, or we will kill the child. But why? Perhaps the child would be better off dead. The child has no relatives, the one person fighting for his survival and well-being had died for a dead cause. Stay alive. Maybe that is his own agenda. Maybe that's what he is working for, using people for, killing for. Kill the man who claims to be a father to you, kill him before he kills you.
Remember the times he put his hands on you, remember the times he forced you to do things you didn't want to do. Remember how you hated it (but you LET him), remember how you wanted to cry (but you DIDN'T), remember how your stomach turned at the thought (but you STOPPED fighting it). Remember how he gave you the gun and sent you off to kill (but he didn't kill those people, you did). Remember how he told you that they weren't people, they were just helmets and uniforms and blood, they didn't have names or eyes or pasts. They weren't real, just like you.
He hears more words, more taunts, and they don't mean anything. They never have. They're just words, words without meaning, without sustenance, without reality. You honestly think you can beat me? Bring it on, then, let's see how you measure up, boy! Not real, not real. It's an illusion, it's a nightmare. It's easier when it's not real, when you can just see it as a video game. No one gets hurt in VR. No one dies in VR. He doesn't like to feel, he doesn't like triumph when there should be horror. He doesn't like seeing the blood smeared over steel and cement and not considering it a horrible thing.
Don't go insane. Follow the mission objective; don't go insane.
Cold metal in his hands, but he can't feel it. The skull suit envelopes his palms, his fingers. Why does he hold his sword? Why should he listen to them and strike this man in front of him dead? He is the one they chose for the death of Solidus Snake and told him he had no free will. Is that a reason? An excuse?
He raises his blade.
--
Challenge #1
Phrase: "You honestly think you can beat me?"
Word Count: 681
Rating: PG-13
Title: Mission Failed
Author: Rydia Highwind
Disclaimer: Metal Gear Solid and Metal Gear Solid 2 and all characters refered to herein belong to Konami. I claim nothing, I'm simply borrowing.
Summary: What goes through Raiden's mind as he's forced to take on Solidus?
Warning: Implications of non-con yaoi, Solidus/Raiden.
--
The wind is blowing outside, but not harshly or cruelly and he thinks maybe it should be.
He is tired of words, tired of voices. He once trusted people, but that trust doesn't exist anymore. He wonders what happens to emotions when one stops feeling them. He wonders if they are gone forever or if they are stored away in the back of his mind or something. He wonders because he doesn't know if he can feel that trust for anyone else, ever again. Everyone has betrayed him, everyone has taken away what little faith he'd offered, and now here he was, standing in the wind, dying.
He realizes now that no one is really evil. He realizes that no one is good either. Everyone he has met in the past twenty-four hours, or has already known for two years, six years, fifteen years--they are all working on their own agendas. They are all using him for their own ends, noble or otherwise. And these ends are all that matter to them; it doesn't matter that in the process of achieving those ends, they happen to decimate someone standing in the middle of it all.
Mission objective: don't go insane.
He isn't so innocent either, he supposes. He has cocked his gun, he has spilled blood--more blood than he can possibly remember. He has been used and moreover, he allowed himself to be used. He doesn't have an agenda to follow, though. He hasn't stepped on anyone, not willingly. He has taken what has been presented to him, and he has used it to get further. Yes, he hasn't been immune to using people to get ahead. Maybe this is justification for everything he has done and everything he has let happen. Maybe there would be justice after all.
Morality is nothing. Everyone is the same. Stay alive, they said, or we will kill the child. But why? Perhaps the child would be better off dead. The child has no relatives, the one person fighting for his survival and well-being had died for a dead cause. Stay alive. Maybe that is his own agenda. Maybe that's what he is working for, using people for, killing for. Kill the man who claims to be a father to you, kill him before he kills you.
Remember the times he put his hands on you, remember the times he forced you to do things you didn't want to do. Remember how you hated it (but you LET him), remember how you wanted to cry (but you DIDN'T), remember how your stomach turned at the thought (but you STOPPED fighting it). Remember how he gave you the gun and sent you off to kill (but he didn't kill those people, you did). Remember how he told you that they weren't people, they were just helmets and uniforms and blood, they didn't have names or eyes or pasts. They weren't real, just like you.
He hears more words, more taunts, and they don't mean anything. They never have. They're just words, words without meaning, without sustenance, without reality. You honestly think you can beat me? Bring it on, then, let's see how you measure up, boy! Not real, not real. It's an illusion, it's a nightmare. It's easier when it's not real, when you can just see it as a video game. No one gets hurt in VR. No one dies in VR. He doesn't like to feel, he doesn't like triumph when there should be horror. He doesn't like seeing the blood smeared over steel and cement and not considering it a horrible thing.
Don't go insane. Follow the mission objective; don't go insane.
Cold metal in his hands, but he can't feel it. The skull suit envelopes his palms, his fingers. Why does he hold his sword? Why should he listen to them and strike this man in front of him dead? He is the one they chose for the death of Solidus Snake and told him he had no free will. Is that a reason? An excuse?
He raises his blade.