Guys, post up more TB fics!
There are only about 300 fanfictions under the Trinity Blood category at the mo', and I'm really looking forward to it hitting the 10K mark so we'll get CATEGORISED CHARACTER PAIRINGS (please?)! Work hard, people. Oneshots are essential to our success!
('Quality, not Quantity' only applies to the number of chapters, not stories.)
"What the hell is he thinking?"
Radu Barvon shook his Methuselah, undead, re-animated, extremely deceased head in exasperation.
"How many centuries have I been reminding him that Methuselah stick out like unmentionable appendages when aroused? Hello, huge flappy black cloak – the thing's big enough for two of me, for goodness' sake – and umbrella that'll probably carry him off with a strong gust of wind, and he sits on the edge of a bloody building.
"And yes, Dietrich, I know it's lots easier for you to find out what I'm doing by forcing me to report everything I see out loud, but it's driving me insane, you know that? Yes, you probably do, that's why you even sent me on this stupid mission!"
A little old lady hugged her grocery bag to her chest and crossed to the other side of the road. It did not pay to walk near schizophrenic vampires, she had established in her younger days. Really, in her youth, Methuselah had been attractive, and now they just stood on roofs talking to themselves spying on everyone else. The Vatican nowadays let vampires get completely out of hand –
Father Tres Iqus marched past her in a flapping of black cloak, looking determined.
- but that was alright, considering they were certainly putting their efforts into employing better-looking priests.
"Father Abel Nightroad, I –"
"Tres! Save me! Now! I think Esther's going through, you know, her womanly thing at this time of the month, and -"
"You shut up, you horrible –"
A well-timed BEEP from Tres interrupted their rants.
"Father Abel Nightroad, I –"
"Now, Tres! Grab her!"
"Why is everyone against me? Why doesn't anyone understand my pain?"
" – have just received data for out new mission from Sister Kate Scott, which takes priority over any love confessions I am required to make, and – "
"I hate being Queen! I quit!"
" – we need to set off immediately. Father Abel Nightroad?"
Tres and Esther looked down at the apparently unconscious Abel in horror. Esther picked up the crown she'd just thrown at Abel's head, pointed at Tres, and yelled -
"HE DID IT. Star of hope, lalala, saviour of the people, I DID NOT JUST KNOCK A PRIEST OUT. Bye."
- and took off at an almost unladylike trot down the street, blissfully unaware of the large black umbrella attempting to roofhop after her, followed by someone not very alive, as well as her daily entourage of assassins.
"'S she gone?" asked a hopeful voice coming from somewhere near Tres' left foot, which belonged to a silver-haired (1) priest who was attempting to inconspicuously scan the horizon for any signs of the country's beloved Queen, with one eye closed and his cheek against the cobblestones. He was failing.
"Positive. My optic sensors indicate that Her Highness Queen Esther Blanchett has moved out of sight. As I was trying to inform you earlier, we have just received a new mission from Sister Kate Scott."
"Yes, yes, I heard, through the metal spike Esther was trying to ram into my head," muttered the Vampire of Vampires, the Scourge of the Methuselah, the Terror of the Tyrannical Bloodsucking Overlords, and the Man Who Just Had His Head Grounded Into The Floor By A Hormonally Imbalanced Teenager In A Metal Underskirt.
"Playing audio report now."
"Abel, Tres! This is Kate, there's been a frantic summons from one of the villages near Londinium, psychotic laughter and strange lights coming from an abandoned cottage, suspect Class B Mad Scientist, Class D Resurrected Ghoul.. Or it could be one of the Rozen Kreuz Orden people bringing on Armageddon. Or possibly Willie's been injecting himself with one of his.. experiments again.
"Check it out and if it's Willie, remind him that substance abuse is punishable by law and Leon said to save some for him when he gets back. And that one of my right cannons seems to be housing a family of starlings. Deal with the mission immediately. NOW. Bye.
" Message end," noted Tres. "The cottage mentioned is three hours' march from Londinium."
"Oh. Er.. To Londinium!"
"I would like to point out that Her Highness Queen Esther Blanchett is heading back this way, Father Nightroad," said Tres.
"Er.. To Londinium quickly, then!"
"It is good to see your enthusiasm for a mission for once, Father Nightroad."
"If there's just one thing I'd like to see more than Esther right now, it's the light of day, ever again," mumbled Abel.
"I did not realise you put Her Highness Queen Esther Blanchett in such high regard, Father Nightroad."
"I never said there weren't other things."
In an alternate universe, a horde of stampeding teenagers was halted suddenly when every single one of them broke out sneezing. (The moral of the story: One angry Esther Many, many random fangirls. Or guys. Give up already.)
(1) "No, my hair is not grey. Can't you just take it as silver? It sounds loads more exciting, not that I need to use my hair to excite anyone. Yes, I am aware that this is a T-rated fic, I've just been spending way too much time around Leon lately. I mean, what's with the Dandelion?! …I shouldn't have thought about that, really. Say hi to permanent mental scarration, kids!"
