Here's my newest 9 fanfiction. I've had this plot floating around in my head for a while. I've actually been wanting write it for days.
It's kind of redundant, but I needed to do this and get it done with.
This was originally going to be a oneshot, but decided to make it a chaptered story. I don't know how many chapters it will have, but know that I am working on this.
Well, here's chapter one.
Delicate white flakes danced their way through the air in an elegant performance before hitting the dead earth. An infinite white blanket stretched as far as the eye can see, going on beyond the horizon. The snow did well in hiding the ruined buildings, although they still gave off a dreadful sensation, and that was all 9 thought as he looked up at a building's window, as though it was staring back at him.
He gripped his lightstaff, giving the window one last look before he turned away. He was decked in a handmade cloak made of velvet the color of teal.
Turning around, he watched as 1 came sauntering up towards him, his smoky grey cape billowing in the wind.
"We should find shelter soon," he said, glancing up at the grayish white sky.
"How far are we from the library?," asked 9.
1 shook his head.
"We won't make it in time," he replied. "Let's just find some place for the night."
The wind blew, stronger this time. 9 gripped his lightstaff and walked on, his whole body shivering. 1 joined him at his side, hoping for a brief respite from this storm.
7 gazed out the window, a worried look on her face. She had a feeling she couldn't shake and it wasn't just because of the incoming cold. She watched as the snowflakes blew through the breeze. The snowfall was gentle at first, but then it became stronger, only riling up her worries.
She leaped off the windowsill, venturing through the library's extensive collection, and the mountains of rubble.
As she walked, her mind began to wander, hoping what she felt was only a thought and nothing more.
"7!," called a voice.
7 turned around, seeing 2 strolling up to her with the aid of his cane.
"Hi, 2," said 7, smiling.
The elder stitchpunk caught up to her, a smile on his own face. 7 raised a brow, trying not to let herself slip.
"A snowstorm is coming," commented 2, looking over toward the window.
"Yeah," agreed 7, nodding, her smile already fading.
2 glanced back at her, a worried look on his face.
"Is something wrong?," he queried.
The pale stitchpunk looked down at the floor, unable to find an excuse to cover up what she was really feeling.
"It's just," said 7, "the snow's coming in, and..."
She trailed off, as though she had forgotten something. 2 eyed her, noting how she had a hard time articulating.
"It's just that 9 went out there," she said, peeking at the window, then back at 2, "and 1's with him, too." She drew in a breath.
"Well," said 2, "that's understandable."
"But," quoth 7, "I feel as though something might happen." Then, more clearly, she added, "Something besides the storm."
2 blinked.
"Something besides..."
7 turned around, running a hand through her head.
"I might be just thinking about it too much," she said, spinning around, looking back at him.
"If I may," he said, stepping closer, "I don't think you're wrong to feel what you're feeling."
The female stitchpunk looked at him, brow furrowed.
"Well," she said, "thank you for believing me." Looking back at the window, she added, "I guess I can't go out there right now."
2 smiled, chuckling lightly.
"No, you can't," he quipped, "but you can go out tomorrow once the storm's gone."
7 smiled.
"I'm going to see the twins," she spoke, "want to join me?"
"I'd be delighted," replied 2.
He walked alongside 7, he hooked an arm around his, keeping a smile. The moment she looked over her shoulder, the moment the dread came back. She wanted to believe 2's words, if it would ease her mind, but she couldn't help but fear what was out there.
She hoped deep down that she was wrong.
The snow came down harder than when it started. It was only sheer luck that they found shelter, and 9 was grateful for that.
Unable to return to the library, the closest shelter they could find was a rundown house with half of its roof demolished. A gaping hole made entry easy to do, and the windows still had their glass intact, making surviving the storm more bearable.
9 stood in what used to be a living room, and it was layered in years worth of dust. The furniture was in good shape, although the coffee table was turned over on its side. In the right corner, a grandfather clock stood, its hands locked in one place. 9 doubted they still functioned.
He turned around, shining his lightstaff up towards the staircase, wondering what could be hiding up there.
Footsteps were heard from behind, prompting 9 to turn around to see 1 approach him.
"I'm going to check upstairs," he said.
1 gave a nod.
"I'll be up in a bit," he said, "I need to check a few things here."
"Alright," retorted 9.
9, lightstaff in hand, stared up at the stairwell. He breathed in a sigh and made his way up the stairs.
The light from his staff made seeing easier, and 9 felt less afraid as he ascended to the second floor. He had to be careful not to trip on his cloak, but he was making progress. When he reached the top step, he looked from his left, then to his right. To his left, there was a room with its door halfway open. To the right was another room, but the door was closed. Exploring that room wouldn't be a possibility.
The zippered stitchpunk strode toward the room on the left. Turning his head, he saw a painting on the wall to his left. The painting depicted a lake surrounded by dark green pine trees. The sky was a clear, pristine blue. Looking away, 9 reached the room, entering and taking note of his surroundings.
In front of him was a bed dressed in cream-colored sheets, its pillows draped in frilled shamming. Next to the bed was a nightstand with a lamp, and what looked like an ink bottle by its side. 9 walked further, seeing a dull purple rug on the mint green carpeting. Across from him, the window had ecru curtains. The wind howled outside the window, making 9 grateful to be indoors.
5 leaped down from a book stack, making an almost clumsy landing, but regained his composure. He looked up at the library's entrance, watching the snow falling.
The bare bushes were blanketed in a thick sheet of snow while the courtyard was completely white. The statues were covered in white snow, more of that snow piling on top. The walls around the courtyard also had a strip of snow outlining the top like a border.
It amazed him to be seeing this. He had only read about this in a book he found several weeks ago. He never thought he'd be seeing it in person.
Glancing over his shoulder, he saw 7 approach him, a surprised look on her face. It was all 5 needed to know that she didn't expect to see him here.
"Hey," she said.
"Hey, 7," said 5.
7 stood beside 5, watching the snow scatter.
There was a pause before 5 decided to break the silence.
"It's freezing, isn't it?," he quipped.
7 looked at the sky before turning to face him.
"Yeah," she said, shoulders slumping.
5 arched his stitched brow inquisitively.
"Something bothering you?," he asked.
7 looked down at the ground in thought.
"Well," she began, "it's just...I get he feeling something might be out there."
The one-eyed stitchpunk looked over at the courtyard, focusing on the surrounding buildings.
"Like...what?," he said.
"I don't know," replied 7, "I'm just worried..since...1 and 9 are out there."
"Oh," said 5, "yeah."
He glanced back at the gate, a nagging feeling gnawing at him, prompting him to go out there.
"There's nothing we can do about it now," he quoth, "we'll have to wait until morning."
7 out a hand on her hip, watching the snow fall.
"I'm going to go search for them tomorrow," she declared.
"Want me to join you?," offered 5.
7 snapped her head at him.
"I can use all the help I can get," she uttered.
Turning around, she made her way back to the entrance, but not before she stopped and said, "Thank you for your offer."
"I'll be ready in the morning," said 5, smiling.
The pale stitchpunk nodded, turning and entering the library.
5 stood alone, the wind blowing and the snow shaking from everywhere.
1 reached the top of the stairs, looking from both directions until his optics landed on the room, whose door was half open.
He walked toward the room, hand clutched to his chest. He turned to his left, peeking quickly to the wall to see the painting of the lake.
The second he entered, the second he took in his surroundings. 1 spotted 9 standing by the bed, lightstaff in hand.
"Oh, 1," said 9 as soon as he saw him.
1 walked up to him, looking up at the room's walls the color of ivory.
"Did you see anything?," asked 9.
"I found some matches," said 1, "though there were only four left."
"Oh," said 9.
He turned around, facing the window seeing nothing but the falling snow.
"How long do you think his storm will last?," he queried.
1 sidled up to him, optics drifting from the window to the floor.
"I'm not sure," he retorted, "it might last the whole night."
"Hmm."
9 glimpsed down at his staff, tapping a finger against the pole-arm. He had never experienced snow before, but seeing it now was testament to how long his patience would last. Although hr was still new to the world, he still held a sense that he had already experienced something before, which confused 9 oftentimes.
He stiffened when he felt 1's arms wrap themselves around his waist.
"You know," crooned 1, "since we're alone, I thought maybe we could..."
9 smiled.
"Well," he said, "since you brought it up."
He swiveled around, planting a kiss against 1's lips. 1 kept his arms wrapped around 9's waist. The heat rose between them, both eager to succumb to the throes of lust.
9 dropped his lightstaff, the bulb still lit. The wind howled outside, but the two stitchpunks didn't care. Nothing would stop them from giving in to the ties of love.
Both didn't even hear the loud thump on the ceiling of the house. Whatever was outside would send them reeling in their cores, and neither would be ready to face it.
I was originally going to title it "Snowed In" or "Snowed Out," but thought that would make it too obvious. This title gives off mystery and it's more versatile.
Well, hope you can stick around for chapter two.