YuRi Shipper: Severe writer's block has kept me off fanfiction for quite some time… and, it's rather sad… but a lot of others stopped writing when I did, it seems. So, I've started again. Rejoice. And, erm… -cough-I'moffforthesummer,soIwon'tbeabletowritetheneither-cough-
Well, now, on with the fic before I bore myself.
Disclaimer: No, during all this time, YuRi Shipper did not win a lawsuit and get the DoA characters to be hers. Damn it.
I'd Just Like to Say : Fuck You All
Well, to be blunt, this was not going as planned. Seven pairs of eyes remained wide open, staring about the room, at each other, or just blankly ahead, while Donovan spoke. "You see, ladies, due to the nature of the experiment, I cannot interfere."
"Why the Hell not? You interfered by locking us in a house, did you not?" Christie snapped, earning one of those dark chuckles for herself.
"That I did, Christie… but be patient. These things take time… and besides, the house is part of your experiment. I doubt you'd be in the same country as Helena, if you could help it. And Ayane – were you not content avoiding your half-sister? Hitomi was on the run as well, though taunting her won't do any good while she's unconscious… what of you, Lei Fang? Tina, Lisa… you two are needed to pull everybody back together," he sighed, and one could almost see a hand rubbing pale temples… if they had any imagination at all, that is. "Listen. Just calm down, try to get along, and do your own thing… that's all I ask. No, if you'll excuse me, I'm late for a meeting. Good day, girls."
And then the speakers just clicked off, leaving a few puzzled women to mull a rather nasty situation. How to escape, how to escape…
"Helena? I can take care of her now, if you want…" Kasumi piped up, pointing to the German who had been laid out on the couch – and looked a little too peaceful in her sleep.
"Oh no you don't," a certain Chinese woman stood, marching over to the redhead indignantly, "We don't need a repeat of the last time you tried to 'help' her. I think I can take over for you this time…"
"Neither one of you is fit to do it, really," Ayane drawled, rolling her eyes. "Just let the damned girl take care of herself. Honestly, if she wants to go and get drunk, she can deal with the consequences on her own."
"I will take care of her…" Helena murmured, stepping in before a fight broke out amongst the three oriental women. "The rest of you should… go calm down somewhere. Take a swim, go to the gym… anything, really. Just calm down… if we ever want to get out of this place, we will need to have cool heads about us."
Her logic was met with sheepish murmurs, the three parting ways and exiting the room, along with Tina and Lisa – who, for once, had merely been observers. It was slightly odd that Christie chose not to exit the immediate area, but rather turn her head to her left and stare. Almost as if she was purposely trying to avoid looking at the blonde before her…
The French woman gave a quiet sigh, shaking her head. The albino woman would always be a mystery to her, wouldn't she? She'd never be close enough to her to learn anything more than the colour of her eyes…
Cerulean gaze shifted to the unconscious young drunk, slender fingers running themselves through silky locks of sun-bleached light brown, ruffling her bangs and then stopping just above the headband. For a moment, her curiosity got the better of her, taking the young woman's mind off to a distant place. What did the headband symbolize? Why constantly wear it? Who -
A cough brought her back from her curious place, though it had not been Hitomi to utter the sound. A tiny smirk graced those red lips of hers as her eyebrows shot up, looking to Christie who stared back, apparently deciding whether or not she should say anything. Violet met cerulean as both sets of oddly coloured eyes met, locking for an instant, before the rarer of the two shades glanced at the floor, breaking the odd sort of contact.
"Oui, Christie?" Helena dared to ask, inwardly slapping herself for opening her trap. Asking things of the woman with the pale skin and snow-coloured hair never ended well…
"Nothing. Just looked like you might fall asleep… I thought I'd keep you awake," she shrugged nonchalantly, earning herself a glare. Her turn to smirk. But there was a difference between Christie's smirk and Helena's – the Brit donned such a feature out of sheer arrogance, and the French maiden out of amusement.
A moan caused both to stop their miniature war, Helena glancing down once more at the German, noting her now less-than-unconscious state. To be entirely truthful, she looked to be… semi-conscious? Yes, that seemed about right.
"Christie, see if you can find a bucket. Ask the chef… I am afraid we are nowhere near a washroom." In their moments staring at one another, she'd forgotten to ask for assistance in moving the brunette to a room closer to a toilet – because it was more than obvious there would be puking.
"Way ahead of you," the Brit stated, tapping the bucket that had seemingly appeared at the side of her chair. "They brought it over during Donovan's little speech," she explained, shrugging and sauntering over to the blonde, kneeling beside her. The bucket was red, round… nothing special. Just a bucket…
That was currently being filled with the contents of an eighteen year old's stomach. A horrid retching sound filled the air, as both of the other women blanched visibly, Christie turning her head just slightly and Helena rubbing the vomiting girl's back, praying this would be quick.
After the first bout, there was another, followed by one more, and some spit-up. And then… calm. Silence. Sure, the air was not filled with a pleasant smell, but at least some still fellow in a tuxedo had popped out from the shadows and was carrying that red bucket off to dump its contents and be cleaned. One could only pray he didn't trip and spill the vile substance everywhere.
The pair of older women looked at one another, then back down to the brunette, who moaned, rubbing at her head.
"Shisa," she murmured, earning a slightly shocked look from Helena. Oh, she didn't speak a word of German – but she knew that had to be a curse.
"Don't move too much – it's only going to make it throb like a mother-fucker," Christie explained, which earned herself a glare. Honestly, was the cursing necessary?
"Watch your tongue around young ones…" Helena's low mumble caused the albino to stare in shock, pointing an accusatory finger at Hitomi, jaw dropping as she prepared to say something else. "I don't want to hear it. Let's just concentrate on making her feel better, Christie."
Well, this could be interesting…
Could've been, but I cut it out there. The authoress is allowed to be evil at times. Not like this chapter is going to be huge anyway… pfft. More like teeny.
Now, to the gym, where our favourite (and only) matchmakers could be found at that point in time, punching the living tar out of a bag. Just for a little fun.
"So," Tina grunted, sweat causing blonde locks to stick to her forehead in a very unladylike fashion, "what do y'all think o' the current situation?"
Her dark companion shrugged, tossing her fist weakly into the bag. "Dunno. Doesn't look like anybody's gotten much happier about this… and I can't say I blame them. But we've got feuds popping up all over the place. It doesn't look too good."
"I hear ya." Blue eyes narrowed as the bag was split in half at long last, a final kick causing it to do so, spilling sand everywhere. A sheepish Texan backed off, grinning like an ape and shrugging innocently as her partner fixed her with a glare.
"Well, we can't have everyone fighting each other… if we're playing matchmaker, we'd better hurry up and do it damn fast," the tan woman explained, gaining a nod from her partner.
The blonde seated herself on the floor, running slender fingers through her sweaty locks and patting the ground beside her, indicating that Lisa should also take a seat. "C'mon. We can 'discuss' down 'ere. Much more comfortable than just standin'."
She was joined on the floor by the short-haired brunette, who gave a gentle smile, tilting her head just slightly. "Well then, let's get to it."
Night fell, and each girl went to their respective room – and, oddly enough, all seemed calm… eerily so. Quiet, still…
Until a glass could be heard shattering, along with a shout of what could only be pain or surprise. But who was it this time?
YuRi Shipper: Must leave. So I had to cut it off right there. I was planning on making this far longer, and showing off a little… but meh. Xx;;; R&R – maybe I can get another chapter or two up before I leave in July.
