Goodbye LJ...
Feb. 20th, 2006 06:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
windandwaterThis is just to make it official for those who don't know, but I'm leaving LJ completely. For the rest of this week at least. Tomorrow is the Bar Exam and it runs for three days, so don't expect to see me about at all until Thursday night. Or even until the weekend since I plan on spending Thursday after the Bar drunk and crying. No online time for me at all. *whines* It will be hard, but I know I can do it.
So, because I'm a total h0r like that, I am declaring this to be a spam post. Go ahead. Run wild! Give me fics, give me links, give me pics, just babble to your heart's content and rape my inbox so I have something to see when I finally DO come back to the wonderful world of LJ. I don't even care if you write me a drabble and post it one word at a time. XD;
Though, I've tried to make a spam post before and it failed a bit miserably, so I don't have very high expectations this time around. Feel free to prove me wrong though!
♥
So, because I'm a total h0r like that, I am declaring this to be a spam post. Go ahead. Run wild! Give me fics, give me links, give me pics, just babble to your heart's content and rape my inbox so I have something to see when I finally DO come back to the wonderful world of LJ. I don't even care if you write me a drabble and post it one word at a time. XD;
Though, I've tried to make a spam post before and it failed a bit miserably, so I don't have very high expectations this time around. Feel free to prove me wrong though!
♥
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Re: Pocketful of Ashes
Date: 2006-02-21 08:08 am (UTC)"And this is more important than friendship?"
"Yes!"
"And this is more important than love?"
Heero stared at Trowa, utterly confused. "Yes," he whispered, unable to do otherwise.
Trowa pushed himself off of the wall and walked slowly towards Heero, stopping so close that he could almost hear the other boy's breath. He spoke very softly, like a fall of snow. "Then I pity you, Heero Yuy, for the peace you dream of is a hollow one. There *can* be no peace without compassion, Heero... there can be no peace without love. There can be no peace in a world where strength alone matters, and anyone found lacking in any way is left to die. In your struggle for perfection, you have proven yourself unable to protect those that you profess to fight for, and *your* peace will end... unavoidably... in death."
Shaking from the inside out, Heero stepped backwards, out of Trowa's immediate reach. Trowa made no move to pursue him as he backed unsteadily away, stopping only when he bumped against the corner. "I had hoped that *you,*" he breathed, "you, at least, would understand."
Then, turning, he fled, his blood pounding in his ears. Something buried deep inside his mind was struggling to get loose, from where he had locked it away when he first saw the lifeless doll in Deathscythe's cockpit. It scratched against the bottom of his control, his discipline, like claws against glass.
He needed... Relena. He needed her confidence, her surety. Relena understood, she knew what he was fighting for, she knew what peace was and why it was worth all this... mess. She would clear this confusion from his mind. If only she were here, she could show him what to do, she could tell him what was right and what was wrong.
Because he hadn't done anything wrong.
He hadn't done anything wrong.
He hadn't done anything...
He avoided the other pilots, not that it was hard. If he entered a room where Quatre was, the other pilot gave him an angry glare, and left the room. If he happened to pass Wufei in a hallway, the Chinese boy would give him a look that didn't bother to disguise his contempt. Trowa did not so overtly avoid him, but he refused to speak to Heero after those last, damning words.
Re: Pocketful of Ashes
Date: 2006-02-21 08:08 am (UTC)None of this went unnoticed by the rest of the people on the ship. Duo's death could hardly be kept a secret, and within a day rumors began to fly among the crew. The people who just days ago had treated Heero with a certain awed respect began to avoid his eyes, break off conversations when he entered the room, then start them again once he left. Some didn't even bother to do that, continuing their conversations in low voices, unaware of his superior hearing. The worst were the ones who didn't even bother to look away, but stared at him in a sort of repelled fascination as though he were some mutant specimen of human being.
In the end, having endured as much as he was willing to, he headed for the docking bay to work on his Gundam in solitude. It was pressurized at the moment, so he didn't bother to fetch his spacesuit before opening the doors to the bay and stepping in.
He came to an abrupt halt, nearly getting caught in the doors as they slid shut behind him. Twenty-four pairs of eyes turned to him, and Heero cursed silently as he realized that over half of the Maguanac corps was here... and all of them looking cold and hostile.
He did his best to ignore them as he stepped further into the bay, heading for his Gundam. He had gone no more than ten feet before one of the seated Maguanacs pushed to his feet and stood blocking Heero's path. Heero stopped and turned to glare at him, but the older man glared right back down at him. Heero sense movement at the periphery of his vision, and realized that some of the other men were gathering around.
"Is there something you want?" he said in a detached tone.
"Yeah, I think so," the man replied readily. "You were supposed to be Duo's partner in the last fight, weren't you?"
The answer was self-evident, so Heero didn't bother to answer it, just waiting. One of the other Maguanacs spoke up. "Well, it looks to me like you did a pretty pissing bad job of being his partner, boy."
"So?" Heero said in a monotone.
"Duo was our friend," a third one put in, stepping into Heero's immediate field of vision. "More than that, when we first took him and his Gundam off of Earth, he ignored his own safety in order to watch our backs, and helped us get out of there. And it looks like when his back needed watching, you fucking fell down on the job."
"That sounds like just the stupid, insubordinate prank that Maxwell would pull," Heero remarked dispassionately. "The only surprise is that he lasted as long as he did."
Re: Pocketful of Ashes
Date: 2006-02-21 08:08 am (UTC)None of this went unnoticed by the rest of the people on the ship. Duo's death could hardly be kept a secret, and within a day rumors began to fly among the crew. The people who just days ago had treated Heero with a certain awed respect began to avoid his eyes, break off conversations when he entered the room, then start them again once he left. Some didn't even bother to do that, continuing their conversations in low voices, unaware of his superior hearing. The worst were the ones who didn't even bother to look away, but stared at him in a sort of repelled fascination as though he were some mutant specimen of human being.
In the end, having endured as much as he was willing to, he headed for the docking bay to work on his Gundam in solitude. It was pressurized at the moment, so he didn't bother to fetch his spacesuit before opening the doors to the bay and stepping in.
He came to an abrupt halt, nearly getting caught in the doors as they slid shut behind him. Twenty-four pairs of eyes turned to him, and Heero cursed silently as he realized that over half of the Maguanac corps was here... and all of them looking cold and hostile.
He did his best to ignore them as he stepped further into the bay, heading for his Gundam. He had gone no more than ten feet before one of the seated Maguanacs pushed to his feet and stood blocking Heero's path. Heero stopped and turned to glare at him, but the older man glared right back down at him. Heero sense movement at the periphery of his vision, and realized that some of the other men were gathering around.
"Is there something you want?" he said in a detached tone.
"Yeah, I think so," the man replied readily. "You were supposed to be Duo's partner in the last fight, weren't you?"
The answer was self-evident, so Heero didn't bother to answer it, just waiting. One of the other Maguanacs spoke up. "Well, it looks to me like you did a pretty pissing bad job of being his partner, boy."
"So?" Heero said in a monotone.
"Duo was our friend," a third one put in, stepping into Heero's immediate field of vision. "More than that, when we first took him and his Gundam off of Earth, he ignored his own safety in order to watch our backs, and helped us get out of there. And it looks like when his back needed watching, you fucking fell down on the job."
"That sounds like just the stupid, insubordinate prank that Maxwell would pull," Heero remarked dispassionately. "The only surprise is that he lasted as long as he did."
Re: Pocketful of Ashes
Date: 2006-02-21 08:08 am (UTC)"I think you'd better make youself scarce," snarled the first Maguanac who had intercepted him. "You might think you're untouchable now, but Duo was our friend. You might not give a damn what happened to him, but if we cross paths with you again, then we will make you regret his death."
Heero eased the tip of the barrel up, pointing at the ceiling, and heard the others relax. "You understand nothing," he said coldly, and turned his back on all of them. Their eyes itched on the back of his neck, but he made himself walk slowly and unconcernedly to the exit, back into the hallways, until he finally found himself in the privacy of his quarters.
He shut the door behind him, cutting off the last of the whispers and the fascinated stares. He walked to the chair at the room's only desk, drew his gun, and began to disassemble it. It was already in perfect condition, but he cleaned each of the pieces with a methodic determination, and began to put them back together again. His hands worked with long-ingrained reflexes, leaving his eyes to stare across the room to the second, empty bed.
As he finished chambering the bullet, his fingers suddenly faltered, and he carefully set the gun down on the desk before standing and crossing the room. He crouched down, and, hesitantly, took hold of the strap of the duffle bag that held all of Duo's possessions.
In a sudden, instantaneous fury, he threw the bag against the wall. It burst at the seams, and its contents rained down around him. "Why?" he shouted, knowing that the walls were well soundproofed, that nobody would hear him. "WHY?"
In a single movement, he grabbed the frame of the bed and overturned it, the wooden frame cracking against the wall. "Why did you constantly haunt me?" he roared to its absent sleeper. "Why did I see your eyes in my head all the time? Why could I never concentrate in your presence? Why couldn't I get your smile out of my mind?"
The fury would not abate, and he grabbed ahold of one of the legs of the bed. The wood of the frame cracked, and he yanked the entire corner free from the springs and swung it, crushing and scattering Duo's possessions before the spar smashed against the wall and flew into splinters. "WHY?"
The shattered remnants of woods slipped through his fingers and clattered to the floor, bouncing. Something bright and metallic caught his eyes, and Heero slumped to his knees, eyes fixed unseeing on the silver cross that had tumbled free of the silk wrappings that had been its careful protection. "Why?" he whispered.
Re: Pocketful of Ashes
Date: 2006-02-21 08:08 am (UTC)"I think you'd better make youself scarce," snarled the first Maguanac who had intercepted him. "You might think you're untouchable now, but Duo was our friend. You might not give a damn what happened to him, but if we cross paths with you again, then we will make you regret his death."
Heero eased the tip of the barrel up, pointing at the ceiling, and heard the others relax. "You understand nothing," he said coldly, and turned his back on all of them. Their eyes itched on the back of his neck, but he made himself walk slowly and unconcernedly to the exit, back into the hallways, until he finally found himself in the privacy of his quarters.
He shut the door behind him, cutting off the last of the whispers and the fascinated stares. He walked to the chair at the room's only desk, drew his gun, and began to disassemble it. It was already in perfect condition, but he cleaned each of the pieces with a methodic determination, and began to put them back together again. His hands worked with long-ingrained reflexes, leaving his eyes to stare across the room to the second, empty bed.
As he finished chambering the bullet, his fingers suddenly faltered, and he carefully set the gun down on the desk before standing and crossing the room. He crouched down, and, hesitantly, took hold of the strap of the duffle bag that held all of Duo's possessions.
In a sudden, instantaneous fury, he threw the bag against the wall. It burst at the seams, and its contents rained down around him. "Why?" he shouted, knowing that the walls were well soundproofed, that nobody would hear him. "WHY?"
In a single movement, he grabbed the frame of the bed and overturned it, the wooden frame cracking against the wall. "Why did you constantly haunt me?" he roared to its absent sleeper. "Why did I see your eyes in my head all the time? Why could I never concentrate in your presence? Why couldn't I get your smile out of my mind?"
The fury would not abate, and he grabbed ahold of one of the legs of the bed. The wood of the frame cracked, and he yanked the entire corner free from the springs and swung it, crushing and scattering Duo's possessions before the spar smashed against the wall and flew into splinters. "WHY?"
The shattered remnants of woods slipped through his fingers and clattered to the floor, bouncing. Something bright and metallic caught his eyes, and Heero slumped to his knees, eyes fixed unseeing on the silver cross that had tumbled free of the silk wrappings that had been its careful protection. "Why?" he whispered.
Re: Pocketful of Ashes
Date: 2006-02-21 08:08 am (UTC)The room was silent, silent, giving him no answer, and his mouth tasted dry as ashes as he reached out and took the cold metal into his trembling hands. "Why can't I stop hearing you scream?"
A week passed.
And another.
Twice, in that time, Heero (along with the others, but always the last to be called) went out-ship to fight space battles like the one where Duo died. To his own disbelief, his piloting was slow, uncharacteristically clumsy. Only the fact that he was never assigned to any important position in the battles kept him alive, for he had no partner to fight with. He could sleep no more than half an hour at a time. In his off hours, he took to endlessly, obsessively maintenancing his weapons and Gundam. It was no use -- his piloting skills continued to degrade.
Almost the entire crew, along with the other pilots, now reviled him. Every face would now curl with disgust when he walked by, and those who he was forced to interact with went out of their way to inconvenience him. Tensions aboard the transport were rising to nearly unbearable levels; the pilots, especially, were taking on a stressed and haggard look. Only Trowa, in the midst of all the conversations denouncing Wing's pilot, sometimes looked at him with a shadowy, indecipherable expression on his face.
He wondered, sometimes, if maybe Trowa did understand him after all. Just a bit.
At the end of the second week, Hilde showed up. She was driving a small, two-person shuttlecraft, and she crashed it into the docking bay. The medics came along with the technicians to dig her out of the wreckage, and when they did, it was obvious that she was well on her way to a nervous breakdown.
Quatre flew down to the medical bay as soon as he heard the news, and the other pilots were not far behind. Only Heero was not invited inside, and he paused, one hand on the wall of the corridor outside the medical bay as they brought her in. She was crying and ranting, and the medics were anxiously discussing the possibility of sedating her.
"I don't understand," he heard Quatre say to Trowa. "Hilde's one of the most sensible people I know."
"She and Duo were close," Trowa said quietly. "It's understandable that she'd be distraught."
Re: Pocketful of Ashes
Date: 2006-02-21 08:08 am (UTC)Heero listened.
And then, oddly numb, he turned and walked back down the corridor.
He felt very strange -- as though his head was light, but incredibly heavy, at the same time. He half-expected to stumble over, top-heavy, and it was only the mechanics of walking that kept him on his feet as Hilde's incoherent ravings replayed in his mind.
"Make him stop... make him stop... I hear him all the time now... in my head... even when I sleep, I hear him... make him stop screaming... I can hear him... screaming... all the time... I don't want to hear him... make it stop..."
It was impossible.
Why should Hilde hear the same thing, the exact same thing, that Heero did? Hilde hadn't been anywhere near this place at the time of Duo's violent death. She never saw the recording, she never heard Duo screaming her name. She never heard it.
But she heard it now. All the time. In her sleep.
And so did he.
So what if --
He opened the door to his room, and stumbled inside. He didn't turn the light on. Instead, he dropped into the chair and stared into the darkness. One hand reached out of its own accord and dragged across the desk, entangling with cold metal. He raised his hand, letting the chain slither down his arm.
What if Heero wasn't going crazy after all?
Carefully, precisely, Heero reached for his gun and began to take it apart. Because if Hilde was hearing the same thing that Heero was, the exact same thing, then that meant that it was really Duo he was listening too, and not the punishing fictions of his own mind.
And that meant that somehow, Duo was still hurting. That somewhere, he was still screaming, and for the last two weeks Heero had closed his ears and done nothing.
Again.
Re: Pocketful of Ashes
Date: 2006-02-21 08:09 am (UTC)He had failed.
Again.
His eyes were starting to adjust to the darkness, in the faint light that leaked into the room from the hallway. But he didn't need the light for his fingers to complete the familiar task, sliding the perfectly oiled components back into place, chambering the bullet with quick, efficient motions.
Duo needs me. And I didn't help him.
Unacceptable.
And this time he kept on going, sliding the gun into his hand in the natural extension. There was a kind of joy in at last allowing his hands to make the movements they had wanted to make all along. Bringing his arm up and inwards, resting the barrel against his temple. Finger on the trigger and squeeze, squeeze --
His eyes lit on the cross, hopelessly entangled with his left hand. "Ninmu ryoukai, Duo. I won't abandon you again."
Squeeze --
~owari~
(not really)
Re: Pocketful of Ashes
Date: 2006-02-21 08:09 am (UTC)He had failed.
Again.
His eyes were starting to adjust to the darkness, in the faint light that leaked into the room from the hallway. But he didn't need the light for his fingers to complete the familiar task, sliding the perfectly oiled components back into place, chambering the bullet with quick, efficient motions.
Duo needs me. And I didn't help him.
Unacceptable.
And this time he kept on going, sliding the gun into his hand in the natural extension. There was a kind of joy in at last allowing his hands to make the movements they had wanted to make all along. Bringing his arm up and inwards, resting the barrel against his temple. Finger on the trigger and squeeze, squeeze --
His eyes lit on the cross, hopelessly entangled with his left hand. "Ninmu ryoukai, Duo. I won't abandon you again."
Squeeze --
~owari~
(not really)