Hi all, :)
For those of you wondering, yes, I'm still alive. Been busy... very
busy. So here's a status report for anyone who cares.
My web site at Akane.org has been completely reorganized, and thus most
of my web pages have new URLs.
The Hearts of Ice homepage is now at: http://www.akane.org/heartsofice
The page where I house my other fanfics is at:
http://www.akane.org/fanfiction
My other anime stuff, including a Rurouni Kenshin shrine, and Inuyasha
shrine, and a page where I'm keeping my Trigun manga translations
(Trigun is my latest obsession), can be found at:
http://www.akane.org/krista/anime
And now, a fanfic status report:
I've actually made progress on Hearts of Ice the past two weeks, having
written about 15 pages.
I've also made progress on my Slayers: Family Ties fic, with an
additional 5 or so pages.
And I've also started a Trigun fanfic, as part of the 1-hour challenge
on FFIRC that I worked on tonight, that I'm attaching to this email.
SPOILER WARNING: This Trigun fic is heavy on spoilers that are hinted
at, but not revealed until the 17th episode of the anime, which won't be
released domestically for several months. So if you absolutely hate
spoilers, you might want to steer clear of this fic until then.
However, if you thrive on spoilers (like me), or don't care either way
and are just curious about what Trigun is about, please read on.
Of course, C&C is craved and appreciated. ^_^
----------------------
Brothers
A Trigun Fanfic
by Krista Perry
Knives was three and a half years old when he finally
discovered the Plant, deep in the hidden bowels of the SEED
spaceship.
He was aware of the Plant long before then, of course. He
had felt it for as long as he could remember, murmuring
constantly deep within his mind; a low, vaguely disconcerting
intrusion into his thoughts.
He had always wanted to ask someone about it, but he knew
from experience that asking one of the five adults, who had
stayed out of cold sleep to keep the fleet of SEED ships on
course, would come to nothing. In his desperation to solve the
mystery of the constant presence in his mind, he had made the
mistake of even asking Steve about it, when he was still two
years old.
"Can't you hear it?" he had asked the tall, muscular man,
who always inspired awe, and a bit of fear in him. Steve was
temperamental, unpredictable, and was usually in some stage of
being hung-over. "Can't you hear it..." Knives struggled again
for the proper words as Steve looked up from his glowing holo
terminal, the man's bloodshot eyes already narrowing with hostility
at the sight of the small child.
"What?"
Knives swallowed. "...Hear it... singing... in your head?"
he finished weakly.
Steve's beefy fist clenched, and for one frightened moment,
Knives was afraid the man would strike him. Instead, the man
simply snarled, "What are you babbling on about now, you little
freak of nature? Can't you see I'm busy?"
Knives had fled wordlessly from the red-faced man as fast as
his small legs could carry him, his sense of self-preservation
overriding his need to know. He comforted himself with the
almost certain suspicion that Steve was far too unsophisticated
to understand what he was talking about anyway.
But Steve had been his last hope, because the others weren't
much more helpful, even if they were a bit more tactful in their
confusion. Even Rem, who was, in his opinion, the most competent
and intelligent of the five adults -- even more so than the
Captain -- was no help at all. She had simply smiled at him as
she reached out and gently smoothed his shoulder-length blond
hair with one hand. "I'm afraid I don't understand, Knives. Can
you describe it a bit more, what it is that you're hearing?"
But of course he couldn't. If she couldn't hear it at all,
there was no way to describe it.
His identical twin, Vash, was the only one who understood,
because of course, he heard it too.
He just didn't care.
"Don't you want to find out what it is?" Knives had
demanded, looking into the face that was the mirror of his own,
except that his twin's eyes were grass-green, not sky-blue, and
his brother's hair was a shade more blond than his own near-white
hair. And of course, Vash had that tiny birthmark under the
outer edge of his left eye. The birthmark was usually what the
adults used to tell them apart.
"Of course I do," Vash had responded with his usual
cheerful, nonchalant air. "But I'm sure we'll find out what it
is sooner or later." And then he had wandered off, tagging along
in his usual spot at Rem's heels, once again pestering her with
useless questions about what life on Earth had been like.
Knives sighed heavily. Vash was always like that -- far too
wide-eyed and innocent; too eager to accept things at face value.
It had been okay when they were both younger, but now, with over
three full years of accumulated knowledge and experience, he felt
Vash should know better.
So Knives was left to deal with the mystery of the silent
voice in his mind alone. He might have solved it sooner, but it
wasn't until he was three years, seven months and six days old
that he was tall enough -- and stealthy enough -- to reach the
door terminals in the high security areas and hack his way past
their encrypted codes so that he could search the ship freely.
Even then, his first attempts at searching went poorly.
Every time he would make progress, creeping into the dark depths
of the ship, Vash would always call him back. **Rem is looking for
you,** Vash would say, and when he communicated like that, mind to
mind, Knives could always feel the complete adoration his brother
felt for the woman -- a loyalty and love that rivaled the
feelings he had for his own twin -- and it bothered Knives for
reasons he couldn't define.
**Tell her I'm busy,** he would always respond, as he padded
silently along some dimly-lit catwalk, his eyes searching the
darkness for some clue that would lead him to the source of that
ever-present voice.
**Doing what?** Vash would ask guilelessly.
But he didn't want Rem to know what he was doing, and if he
told Vash, Vash would tell Rem. So instead of arguing, he always
came back, his insides boiling with frustration.
"Look," he said finally, when he managed to catch Vash away
from Rem in a rare moment of complete privacy. "I need your
help."
Vash looked at him with no small amount of surprise. "You
do?" Knives had never asked for help in anything before.
"Yes. I need to do something, but I need you to promise me
that you'll keep this a secret between us."
"A secret..." Vash looked uncertain. "Why? What are you
planning to do?"
"Uh-uh. Not until you promise not to tell."
Vash looked down-right reluctant, and Knives suppressed an
inward groan as he wondered, for what would not be the first
time, if they were truly related.
"Vash," Knives said, and he put his hand on Vash's shoulder.
"Come on. I need you to promise. You absolutely cannot tell
anyone."
"I don't know..." said Vash, his gaze sliding away.
**Please,** Knives said, right to Vash's mind, and he put all
the feeling and urgency he could into the word. Vash looked back
into his eyes in surprise. **I'm your brother, Vash,** he said with
quiet intensity. **You can trust me. I need your help.**
And that did the trick, because Vash's misgivings melted
away beneath a smile, and Knives wondered whether he should be
glad that Vash had finally acquiesced to his wishes, or feel
disturbed that his brother was so easily manipulated.
***
Well, that's all I managed in an hour, only I've polished it up a
bit. So the big question is, is there enough interest in this
fic for me to continue working on it?
Until next time.
-Krista