THIS IS ME FORCING MYSELF TO WRITE
I am not going to press the backspace button for the next fifteen minutes except to make grammatical and spelling corrections. I MAKE NO CHANGES TO MY INSANITY: these bits are all meant to Reggib Worg (I'M SORRY MR. DAHL).
[edit] Plenty of happy mind bickering in the second one. :D Even if you don't know Samurai Warriors, well -- Toyotomi Hideyoshi (united the land) and hired Ishida Mitsunari (to be his sharp-tongued logistics guy and eventual Big Time retainer; in the game he is v. pretty and v. kickass and beats people up with a fan, I mean, come on), who in turn hired Shima Sakon (who talks back to Mitsunari where all others cower in fear/adoration/envy and gets bought over by much money HONOUR in exchange for his 1337 strategy skillz0rs).
I'm so sorry, Japan.
Final Fantasy VII: Reeve and Lazard
The rising political animal is a very dangerous creature, Reeve tells himself, and then he picks up a second cup of coffee and brings it over to where young Mr. Deusericus is seated by himself at the edge of Shinra's executive lounge.
'Fancy some company?' Reeve extends the cup.
Lazard looks up from his PHS, any brief look of surprise wiped neatly and absolutely off his face. 'Mr. Tuesti,' he says, halfway rising from his chair.
Reeve smiles, and warmly. It probably says something about his age and cynicism that he finds Lazard's picture-perfect cover a little bit endearing. 'Don't get up for my sake, and call me Reeve. Everyone does.' The cup is passed over. Lazard accepts it with a nod of thanks and resettles. 'Settling in, then?' Reeve asks, sinking into the chair opposite.
'My new office is happily a lot larger than my last,' Lazard says, sipping. He glances at Reeve. 'Though I've made one small appeal to your department, I think you'll have noticed...'
'Oh, yes,' Reeve draws a folder out from his briefcase. 'Odd thing for me, I've got to say. Most Directors, when they want something, just come straight into my office and bang on my table a lot. Urban Development is a little too laid back. My secretary just lets them, really.'
'I'm sorry,' Lazard says with a little bit of a laugh. 'If I knew that I could've saved you the paperwork, I'd have gone a bit more spare with the writing.'
'Paperwork, paperwork.' Reeve slides out the request form. 'You must be having a bit of a party with all the forms.'
'Shredding them brings me joy unimaginable,' Lazard deadpans.
Reeve laughs. 'A sense of humour! Rare commodity here, though not as rare as this.' He taps the form. 'You want the whole of the 42nd level redeveloped?'
'I think I'd be a prudent change,' Lazard nods, leaning forward. 'Personally I find the system of placing Directors on a separate level from their men inefficient. SOLDIER's such a small department, and closely linked what's more...'
Reeve cocks his head as he listens. Prudent. What a word -- Reeve doesn't think that he's known anyone prudent in Shinra since Veld formed up with Administrative Research. Lazard, with his white gloves neatly laid out on the side of the table and his tabbed folio on the side, looks like the sort. Prudent, and incredibly earnest.
Reeve doesn't know whether to feel sorry for him or amazed by his ambition.
Samurai Warriors 2: Ishida Mitsunari and Shima Sakon (Damn youuuu, anglicised Koei!)
Disclaimer: my Japanese history is shoddy at best (all that I know I have gathered from my last few frantic 15 minutes of Googling); this is really just a pathetic excuse of mine to stick Mitsunari and Sakon in the same place at the same time doing bad things, and in trufax I would write this as an AU just so they can zip forward and hang out in some sex club but a) Mitsunari probably wouldn't and b) you don't get to call people my lord unless c) you were in a certain kind of sex club and then we go back to a).
The door panel slides to the side. Mitsunari, without looking up, sees a wash of shadow flicker across the surface of the room's tatami mats. 'Sakon,' he says, pausing only momentarily in his writing. His brush strokes then resume. Mitsunari trusts the man to settle himself.
Sakon comes up in front of Mitsunari's low writing table, and folds himself appropriately. 'There is a saying going about,' he rumbles thoughtfully. 'A saying about you.'
'Many people say many things about me,' Mitsunari says, shifting his shoulders after completing his last word in something resembling a shrug. 'If I listened to everything I may wake up hating myself as well.' He looks up. 'So what do they say?'
'"Ishida Mitsunari doesn't deserve two things,"' Sakon quotes, reaching for Mitsunari's seal. '"Shima Sakon and Sawayama Castle."' He presses the elaborately carved wooden block to ink before passing it into Mitsunari's hand.
'Hn,' Mitsunari laughs. 'Indeed. Sawayama Castle is well defended.'
'And Shima Sakon tires of his lord manning papers during rare moments of peace.' Sakon pushes himself up on one knee. 'Do you know what else they call you?'
'Tactless,' Mitsunari answers immediately. 'And without much care for the opinion of those whose good favour he should court.' He, too, rises, his knees bowing upwards, powerful and with some grace. 'Is that not so?'
'Calling you tactless would just be telling the truth,' Sakon snorts. 'Which they do say.'
'Anonymous daimyou, hiding in their castles,' Mitsunari muses. He looks at Sakon, an eyebrow raised. 'Wandering ronin must hear much.'
'It doesn't take much skill or effort to hear what Tokugawa's retainers say of you.' Sakon slides the door panel aside and they walk, side by side, down the corridor from Mitsunari's office. 'To them your tongue and pen are much sharper than your blade.'
'Are they wrong?'
Sakon stops to look over at Mitsunari. 'Do you want them to be?'
'My place,' Mistunari enunciates, 'is to serve Lord Toyotomi Hideyoshi. Effectively, and by whatever means I find most useful. Sometimes that is the blade,' he acknowledges, turning his head to meet Sakon's eyes. 'In which case, I have you.'
'Flatterer,' Sakon accuses, but he does not shift his gaze.
Mitsunari's eyes are bright. 'It worked on you, didn't it?'
OKAY SO MUCH FOR THE PORN. *makes note to pen it in later*
Also in progress:
[edit] Plenty of happy mind bickering in the second one. :D Even if you don't know Samurai Warriors, well -- Toyotomi Hideyoshi (united the land) and hired Ishida Mitsunari (to be his sharp-tongued logistics guy and eventual Big Time retainer; in the game he is v. pretty and v. kickass and beats people up with a fan, I mean, come on), who in turn hired Shima Sakon (who talks back to Mitsunari where all others cower in fear/adoration/envy and gets bought over by much money HONOUR in exchange for his 1337 strategy skillz0rs).
I'm so sorry, Japan.
Final Fantasy VII: Reeve and Lazard
The rising political animal is a very dangerous creature, Reeve tells himself, and then he picks up a second cup of coffee and brings it over to where young Mr. Deusericus is seated by himself at the edge of Shinra's executive lounge.
'Fancy some company?' Reeve extends the cup.
Lazard looks up from his PHS, any brief look of surprise wiped neatly and absolutely off his face. 'Mr. Tuesti,' he says, halfway rising from his chair.
Reeve smiles, and warmly. It probably says something about his age and cynicism that he finds Lazard's picture-perfect cover a little bit endearing. 'Don't get up for my sake, and call me Reeve. Everyone does.' The cup is passed over. Lazard accepts it with a nod of thanks and resettles. 'Settling in, then?' Reeve asks, sinking into the chair opposite.
'My new office is happily a lot larger than my last,' Lazard says, sipping. He glances at Reeve. 'Though I've made one small appeal to your department, I think you'll have noticed...'
'Oh, yes,' Reeve draws a folder out from his briefcase. 'Odd thing for me, I've got to say. Most Directors, when they want something, just come straight into my office and bang on my table a lot. Urban Development is a little too laid back. My secretary just lets them, really.'
'I'm sorry,' Lazard says with a little bit of a laugh. 'If I knew that I could've saved you the paperwork, I'd have gone a bit more spare with the writing.'
'Paperwork, paperwork.' Reeve slides out the request form. 'You must be having a bit of a party with all the forms.'
'Shredding them brings me joy unimaginable,' Lazard deadpans.
Reeve laughs. 'A sense of humour! Rare commodity here, though not as rare as this.' He taps the form. 'You want the whole of the 42nd level redeveloped?'
'I think I'd be a prudent change,' Lazard nods, leaning forward. 'Personally I find the system of placing Directors on a separate level from their men inefficient. SOLDIER's such a small department, and closely linked what's more...'
Reeve cocks his head as he listens. Prudent. What a word -- Reeve doesn't think that he's known anyone prudent in Shinra since Veld formed up with Administrative Research. Lazard, with his white gloves neatly laid out on the side of the table and his tabbed folio on the side, looks like the sort. Prudent, and incredibly earnest.
Reeve doesn't know whether to feel sorry for him or amazed by his ambition.
Samurai Warriors 2: Ishida Mitsunari and Shima Sakon (Damn youuuu, anglicised Koei!)
Disclaimer: my Japanese history is shoddy at best (all that I know I have gathered from my last few frantic 15 minutes of Googling); this is really just a pathetic excuse of mine to stick Mitsunari and Sakon in the same place at the same time doing bad things, and in trufax I would write this as an AU just so they can zip forward and hang out in some sex club but a) Mitsunari probably wouldn't and b) you don't get to call people my lord unless c) you were in a certain kind of sex club and then we go back to a).
The door panel slides to the side. Mitsunari, without looking up, sees a wash of shadow flicker across the surface of the room's tatami mats. 'Sakon,' he says, pausing only momentarily in his writing. His brush strokes then resume. Mitsunari trusts the man to settle himself.
Sakon comes up in front of Mitsunari's low writing table, and folds himself appropriately. 'There is a saying going about,' he rumbles thoughtfully. 'A saying about you.'
'Many people say many things about me,' Mitsunari says, shifting his shoulders after completing his last word in something resembling a shrug. 'If I listened to everything I may wake up hating myself as well.' He looks up. 'So what do they say?'
'"Ishida Mitsunari doesn't deserve two things,"' Sakon quotes, reaching for Mitsunari's seal. '"Shima Sakon and Sawayama Castle."' He presses the elaborately carved wooden block to ink before passing it into Mitsunari's hand.
'Hn,' Mitsunari laughs. 'Indeed. Sawayama Castle is well defended.'
'And Shima Sakon tires of his lord manning papers during rare moments of peace.' Sakon pushes himself up on one knee. 'Do you know what else they call you?'
'Tactless,' Mitsunari answers immediately. 'And without much care for the opinion of those whose good favour he should court.' He, too, rises, his knees bowing upwards, powerful and with some grace. 'Is that not so?'
'Calling you tactless would just be telling the truth,' Sakon snorts. 'Which they do say.'
'Anonymous daimyou, hiding in their castles,' Mitsunari muses. He looks at Sakon, an eyebrow raised. 'Wandering ronin must hear much.'
'It doesn't take much skill or effort to hear what Tokugawa's retainers say of you.' Sakon slides the door panel aside and they walk, side by side, down the corridor from Mitsunari's office. 'To them your tongue and pen are much sharper than your blade.'
'Are they wrong?'
Sakon stops to look over at Mitsunari. 'Do you want them to be?'
'My place,' Mistunari enunciates, 'is to serve Lord Toyotomi Hideyoshi. Effectively, and by whatever means I find most useful. Sometimes that is the blade,' he acknowledges, turning his head to meet Sakon's eyes. 'In which case, I have you.'
'Flatterer,' Sakon accuses, but he does not shift his gaze.
Mitsunari's eyes are bright. 'It worked on you, didn't it?'
OKAY SO MUCH FOR THE PORN. *makes note to pen it in later*
Also in progress:
- Batfic: Pauper!AU Dick and Jason on spring break fic for scheherezhad
- FFVII: still more massive Restorations, ajsfkljalsfjlk, the million dollar question being, Will Reeve Ever Stop Talking?