Yuletide: "Suited", Allison/Rose, 355/Yorick, R, 1297 words
Fandom Vertigo Comics (Y: The Last Man)
Title Suited
Rating/Warning R (language)
Pairings/Characters Allison Mann/Rose Copen, Agent 355/Yorick Brown
Spoilers/Prompt General for through the final issue./Written for schmevil for Yuletide 2009.
Summary A poker match and minor arcana reflections on the lives of Rose, Allison, 355, and Yorick and how they've changed each other.
Thanks to never_die for the beta!
Notes Four vignettes written to correspond to each suit's corresponding faculty in the minor arcana: diamonds - material body or possessions; hearts - emotions and love; clubs - creativity and will; spades - reason.
Disclaimer I own nothing. I make nothing. Y: The Last Man belongs to Brian K. Vaughnn, Pia Guerra and Vertigo Comics. Vertigo Comics belongs to DC Entertainment/Time Warner.
Word Count 1297
Rose watched Yorick deal the deck of cards with a skeptical eye. It didn't matter how many times she saw it, that quick dealing was suspicious, even if 355 excused it. Still, it made her smile as she squeezed Ali's hand.
♦DIAMONDS♦
Rose Copen knew how to play the cards she was dealt. It was a big factor in what had made her a good spy. When the chips were down, she could bluff her way through, conning everyone she needed to meet her missions' objectives.
It wasn't newly acquired after the plague. She'd had the gift of being able to lie effectively for as long as she could remember. When she was little, she'd accidentally ripped the living room drapes while playing pirates; the subterfuge came quickly and easily and to her surprise the adults around her believed her obfuscations.
Nobody believed her when she said she wanted to use her gift to help people.
She was proud when the Royal Australian Navy assigned her to covert operations and she could finally put her skills to good use for her country. Her profession took its toll. By the time the plague hit, she adapted just as she always had, but she'd also learned a frightening objectivity. Sometimes, collateral damage was unfortunate, but necessary. She'd learned to be hard as diamond.
Rose thought she'd understood when her Captain and crew mates abandoned her on the sinking Whale. It wasn't personal, she'd merely become collateral damage herself. Besides, she'd fucked up the mission; They wanted her out of the Navy. Trouble was, she didn't know what she'd do without her lies to keep her safe.
She volunteered to travel with the Americans and see that the Last Man was delivered into safe hands. All her adult life had been a farce, all her relationships built on false pretense. This would be no different.
Except, how Rose's head fit perfectly in the crook of Allison's shoulder and how she always knew the right thing to do, if not to say. She'd proven that by saving her, when she hadn't deserved to be saved. Calling the Captain to officially resign wasn't as hard as she thought it would be.
It was finally time to let her old life go and define herself anew, this time with truths instead of lies.
~*~*~*~
Allison had better things to do than gamble with her friends. She had a species to save, dammit. Rose's hand felt right in hers and now that she was happy in love, she was determined to help Yorick and 355 along. This was part of that work. The fact she was enjoying herself was perfunctory.
♥HEARTS♥
Doctor Allison Mann was a rational woman. She didn't abide by superstition or hearsay or old wives tales. She embraced the calculating, studied risks of science and research. She had a thirst for knowledge, it was true, but that's not why she did it.
She did it to hide from heartbreak. Ali knew that, of course, and pretended not to care. There were no emotions involved in test tubes and microscopes and tissue samples. She could obsess over her research, but she didn't have to love it.
When the research turned personal, herself versus her father, it was all about competition and striving for results. If it was a little harder to deny that love - or hate - had anything to do with her motivation, it was still possible and she managed to do it just fine.
Until her daughter died.
And all the men in the world died with her.
Allison thought she'd already endured all the hurt life could bring her. She'd deluded herself into thinking she could protect herself from feeling. She'd thought her work could bring her fulfillment at last. She was wrong; her failure had brought her suffering instead.
Perhaps she agreed to accompany Yorick Brown and Agent 355 because they offered her a purpose again. Many years and many miles later, when they finally parted ways, she had learned to love again and to be glad for doing so.
~*~*~*~
355 paid attention to everything but the poker game. The room was secure, but she wasn't letting her guard down for a moment. Rose sat back, a pair of sunglasses incongruously perched over her eye patch. The Doc bent over close to the cards in her hand, frequently reminding herself of the face down card on the table. 'Rick's bad hand was written clearly in the tight expression of his face and his defeated posture, as Ampersand perched on his shoulder.
♣CLUBS♣
Peace learned to knit from her mother. Her father may have been an ace tailor, but he wasn't passing on the secrets of his trade to Peace, no matter how often she asked. Her mother on the other hand, patiently taught Peace to knit, first scarves, then hats, then socks. She loved the rich texture of the yarn and the steady repetitive motion of the needles. It was a soothing hobby and she particularly loved that she shared it with her mother.
She was wearing a yellow sweater the day she lost her family. Her mother had knitted it for her birthday. She had liked the way it felt against her skin, soft and warm. After they died, it just felt itchy and stifling. She never wore it again.
Agent 86 never knitted a thing. Not for herself. Not for 711 and certainly never for 1033. Though sometimes, when she was especially nervous (or horny) her fingers moved of their own accord in the familiar patterns of the needles.
The only thing Agent 355 did for herself after the plague hit was find herself some yarn. It felt comforting, even if it was in a hideous shade of green.
She didn't have the urge to knit until she met Yorick.
~*~*~*~
There were times when Yorick could almost forget that he was the last man on Earth. This wasn't one of them. The women were beating him soundly and he was quickly running out of chips. Allison was methodically choosing her hands to play. Rose was taking some sort of sadistic glee out of bluffing. Three-fifty wasn't even trying - she just kept getting lucky hands. His life seriously sucked.
♠SPADES♠
Yorick Brown knew every card trick in the book and then some. He knew a Mechanic's Grip, the Elmsley Pass, all kinds of crimps, and his flourish was top notch. But, his favorite were guessing games where he had to use percentages and his knowledge of the odds to perform the trick. No sleights involved. He liked the honesty in that, even as he learned more varied sleights and eventually moved on entirely to escape tricks.
Escaping, he discovered was his true love. Escaping from anything, locked rooms, locked handcuffs, locked straitjackets. Escaping into a book or good story. He found non-fiction distasteful because there was nowhere to escape. The method didn't matter, it was the act itself. He felt powerful, able to leave behind his crazy older sister, his micro-managing mother, his insecurities and inadequacies.
Knowing this, he thought another school of magic would call to him after he met Beth. Instead he found himself seeking more complicated locks and deeper stories. Trouble was, he didn't know what he was trying to escape from anymore. Maybe he just wanted them to move to the future together. Of course, that assumed the present was a trap.
Escaping from the plague was unexpected and horrific. He didn't want to be left behind all alone. He hated discovering that despite his skills, he could not manage to escape from himself.
It took a card trick, a vision and years of breaking out of truly tight spots before he realized he didn't want to escape anymore.
Title Suited
Rating/Warning R (language)
Pairings/Characters Allison Mann/Rose Copen, Agent 355/Yorick Brown
Spoilers/Prompt General for through the final issue./Written for schmevil for Yuletide 2009.
Summary A poker match and minor arcana reflections on the lives of Rose, Allison, 355, and Yorick and how they've changed each other.
Thanks to never_die for the beta!
Notes Four vignettes written to correspond to each suit's corresponding faculty in the minor arcana: diamonds - material body or possessions; hearts - emotions and love; clubs - creativity and will; spades - reason.
Disclaimer I own nothing. I make nothing. Y: The Last Man belongs to Brian K. Vaughnn, Pia Guerra and Vertigo Comics. Vertigo Comics belongs to DC Entertainment/Time Warner.
Word Count 1297
Rose watched Yorick deal the deck of cards with a skeptical eye. It didn't matter how many times she saw it, that quick dealing was suspicious, even if 355 excused it. Still, it made her smile as she squeezed Ali's hand.
♦DIAMONDS♦
Rose Copen knew how to play the cards she was dealt. It was a big factor in what had made her a good spy. When the chips were down, she could bluff her way through, conning everyone she needed to meet her missions' objectives.
It wasn't newly acquired after the plague. She'd had the gift of being able to lie effectively for as long as she could remember. When she was little, she'd accidentally ripped the living room drapes while playing pirates; the subterfuge came quickly and easily and to her surprise the adults around her believed her obfuscations.
Nobody believed her when she said she wanted to use her gift to help people.
She was proud when the Royal Australian Navy assigned her to covert operations and she could finally put her skills to good use for her country. Her profession took its toll. By the time the plague hit, she adapted just as she always had, but she'd also learned a frightening objectivity. Sometimes, collateral damage was unfortunate, but necessary. She'd learned to be hard as diamond.
Rose thought she'd understood when her Captain and crew mates abandoned her on the sinking Whale. It wasn't personal, she'd merely become collateral damage herself. Besides, she'd fucked up the mission; They wanted her out of the Navy. Trouble was, she didn't know what she'd do without her lies to keep her safe.
She volunteered to travel with the Americans and see that the Last Man was delivered into safe hands. All her adult life had been a farce, all her relationships built on false pretense. This would be no different.
Except, how Rose's head fit perfectly in the crook of Allison's shoulder and how she always knew the right thing to do, if not to say. She'd proven that by saving her, when she hadn't deserved to be saved. Calling the Captain to officially resign wasn't as hard as she thought it would be.
It was finally time to let her old life go and define herself anew, this time with truths instead of lies.
~*~*~*~
Allison had better things to do than gamble with her friends. She had a species to save, dammit. Rose's hand felt right in hers and now that she was happy in love, she was determined to help Yorick and 355 along. This was part of that work. The fact she was enjoying herself was perfunctory.
♥HEARTS♥
Doctor Allison Mann was a rational woman. She didn't abide by superstition or hearsay or old wives tales. She embraced the calculating, studied risks of science and research. She had a thirst for knowledge, it was true, but that's not why she did it.
She did it to hide from heartbreak. Ali knew that, of course, and pretended not to care. There were no emotions involved in test tubes and microscopes and tissue samples. She could obsess over her research, but she didn't have to love it.
When the research turned personal, herself versus her father, it was all about competition and striving for results. If it was a little harder to deny that love - or hate - had anything to do with her motivation, it was still possible and she managed to do it just fine.
Until her daughter died.
And all the men in the world died with her.
Allison thought she'd already endured all the hurt life could bring her. She'd deluded herself into thinking she could protect herself from feeling. She'd thought her work could bring her fulfillment at last. She was wrong; her failure had brought her suffering instead.
Perhaps she agreed to accompany Yorick Brown and Agent 355 because they offered her a purpose again. Many years and many miles later, when they finally parted ways, she had learned to love again and to be glad for doing so.
~*~*~*~
355 paid attention to everything but the poker game. The room was secure, but she wasn't letting her guard down for a moment. Rose sat back, a pair of sunglasses incongruously perched over her eye patch. The Doc bent over close to the cards in her hand, frequently reminding herself of the face down card on the table. 'Rick's bad hand was written clearly in the tight expression of his face and his defeated posture, as Ampersand perched on his shoulder.
♣CLUBS♣
Peace learned to knit from her mother. Her father may have been an ace tailor, but he wasn't passing on the secrets of his trade to Peace, no matter how often she asked. Her mother on the other hand, patiently taught Peace to knit, first scarves, then hats, then socks. She loved the rich texture of the yarn and the steady repetitive motion of the needles. It was a soothing hobby and she particularly loved that she shared it with her mother.
She was wearing a yellow sweater the day she lost her family. Her mother had knitted it for her birthday. She had liked the way it felt against her skin, soft and warm. After they died, it just felt itchy and stifling. She never wore it again.
Agent 86 never knitted a thing. Not for herself. Not for 711 and certainly never for 1033. Though sometimes, when she was especially nervous (or horny) her fingers moved of their own accord in the familiar patterns of the needles.
The only thing Agent 355 did for herself after the plague hit was find herself some yarn. It felt comforting, even if it was in a hideous shade of green.
She didn't have the urge to knit until she met Yorick.
~*~*~*~
There were times when Yorick could almost forget that he was the last man on Earth. This wasn't one of them. The women were beating him soundly and he was quickly running out of chips. Allison was methodically choosing her hands to play. Rose was taking some sort of sadistic glee out of bluffing. Three-fifty wasn't even trying - she just kept getting lucky hands. His life seriously sucked.
♠SPADES♠
Yorick Brown knew every card trick in the book and then some. He knew a Mechanic's Grip, the Elmsley Pass, all kinds of crimps, and his flourish was top notch. But, his favorite were guessing games where he had to use percentages and his knowledge of the odds to perform the trick. No sleights involved. He liked the honesty in that, even as he learned more varied sleights and eventually moved on entirely to escape tricks.
Escaping, he discovered was his true love. Escaping from anything, locked rooms, locked handcuffs, locked straitjackets. Escaping into a book or good story. He found non-fiction distasteful because there was nowhere to escape. The method didn't matter, it was the act itself. He felt powerful, able to leave behind his crazy older sister, his micro-managing mother, his insecurities and inadequacies.
Knowing this, he thought another school of magic would call to him after he met Beth. Instead he found himself seeking more complicated locks and deeper stories. Trouble was, he didn't know what he was trying to escape from anymore. Maybe he just wanted them to move to the future together. Of course, that assumed the present was a trap.
Escaping from the plague was unexpected and horrific. He didn't want to be left behind all alone. He hated discovering that despite his skills, he could not manage to escape from himself.
It took a card trick, a vision and years of breaking out of truly tight spots before he realized he didn't want to escape anymore.