Goodbye LJ...

[windandwater]

This 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!

♥

Comments

Re: Spoil of War, prologue

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

Preoccupied, Heero fetched up in front of his tent once more, and then froze with one hand on the entrance flap; an unidentified sound gave him pause. There was some sort of scratching or scrabbling from within. Freezing in place, instantly alert and battle-tense, Heero shifted the bowl of soup to his off hand and drew his dagger with his right; he might have looked a trifle ridiculous, if it weren’t for the deadliness of his eyes. He threw back the flap to the tent, prepared to deal with the threat of an unknown intruder --

-- and the first thing that met his eyes was the boy he’d left unconscious on the bed, crouched on the ground; the blankets tangled and trailed to the dirt floor behind him. His movement froze at Heero’s abrupt entrance, eyes startled and fearful fixed on the knife in the soldier’s hand. Heero relaxed from his battle-ready stance, slipping the dagger back into its sheath, and frowned angrily as he noticed that most of the bandages that Quatre had so carefully fastened were dangling loose or torn off completely. He took a step forward, and the boy backed awkwardly away, scrabbling on his three uninjured limbs until the bed hit his back, when he froze.

“Stop that.” Heero’s own voice surprised him, and the other too; the injured boy flinched at the unexpected noise, but didn’t react to the words. The frown stayed on Heero’s face, though he didn’t move any further into the tent; he looked down at the container still clutched in his off hand. “I’m not going to hurt you. Here -- I brought you some food,” he suggested, uncomfortably, holding the bowl of soup in front of him with both hands.