Of Mice and Men - Freya Claim
Wrote this awhile ago. Thought I might as well post it.
Title: Of Mice and Men
Author: Ayrith/ insanely_poetic
Theme + Number: 74. Birds
Claim: Freya Crescent
Characters/Pairings included: Freya, Amarant
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Language
Summary: Amarant's first meeting with Freya did not go quite as planned. For him or the damn birds.
“Let’s get one thing straight, Coral,” Freya Crescent told him over a flock of squawking pygeese, expression fierce despite the bird goop on her helmet. “I stab first and ask questions later.”
The image would have been more amusing if Amarant had been less covered in bird shit. More to the point, the whole situation had been a lot more interesting ten minutes ago, when their weapons had been pointed at each other’s throats rather than at the sky. There was nothing like greeting a stranger for the first time by embedding lengths of steel in their guts, and despite the Burmecian’s willowy frame, there was something hard and cold in those white-blue eyes that Amarant could appreciate.
This appreciation dropped considerably upon learning that she was an acquaintance of the monkey bastard, but enough interest remained to make his return to the Mist Continent only ninety percent a waste of time.
That had been the plan anyway, until a feint with that deadly sharp spear of hers forced him to careen straight into a fully loaded wagon carrying cages of Bentini fucking Pygeese (why did someone have a wagon full of monster birds in a city as large as Alexandria? They were weak and annoying as hell.)
Fortunately, a convenient alleyway off of Alexandrian square had provided them coverage from excessive public humiliation. Unfortunately, the pygeese had followed them in. It was hard work, beating blindly at flapping wings and wicked beaks while trying to maintain eye contact with a shred of dignity.
Who was he kidding; there was not a single shred of dignity about any of this. So hell if he wasn’t going to at least win the staring contest.
“Like I’d be afraid of a rat faced-“ Amarant grimaced as a particularly loathsome pygeese trumpeted in his eardrum. Knocking it into a nearby window wasn’t satisfying enough; the damn thing had made his eyes water.
The rat, damn her, was still plugging along through her tiring speech. “Don’t think I am unaware of the real story behind why you joined up with us-”
“I don’t remember volunteering to join any-“ He ducked as sharp talons made for his eyeballs.
“-And if you think I’ll just stand by as you make fruitless attempts at Zidane’s life, idiot that he is, you have another thing coming.”
“Shut up about the monkey all ready, I could care less-“ A wing hit him hard in neck.
Oblivious to his slight wheezing, Crescent pointed a tipped claw at him, narrowly missing the throat of a yapping gizzard. “Zidane may trust you gods know why, but I certainly don’t. Furthermore-“
“You…-damn it!” A nasty beak decided to clamp tight over his ear, nearly severing it from his head. Two vicious tugs and it let go-along with what felt like a good chuck of flesh and hair.
Oh, the claws went flashing then.
It wasn’t till five birds lay bleeding at his feet and about twenty more had swarmed above his head that Amarant realized that the Burmecian was staring stupidly at the scene, bird-free and silent and doing nothing.
“What the hell are you just standing around for?” he snarled from a thicket of feathers. If this was the extent of her skills, she was definitely a waste of his time.
Without out warning, there was a boom and then a blast of green light spiraling through the alleyway, kicking up dirt and rattling windows and scattering the pygeese like motes of dust. Amarant, caught off guard, got a mouth full of feathers and gagged. He only had enough time to spit out the crap between his teeth when quite suddenly, a glowing sharp blade was scant inches from his throat. Eyes itchy with sand, he stared down its length at a serious Freya Crescent and all thoughts of her looking ridiculous covered in bird crap flew right out of his head.
The moment was ruined completely when she lowered her lance and he realized she was fighting down a smirk.
“What?” he barked.
“Nevermind. We’ll resume this conversation another time.” The lance swung heavily to her shoulder as she turned to walk away, dancing between the shuddering bodies of pygeese, leaving him to stare blankly after her. She had only taken three steps however, when she threw casually over her shoulder, “Perhaps when you are not being bullied by a pack of pigeons?”
She jumped away before he could throw a Rising Sun and be done with it.
Waste of time, indeed.
Title: Of Mice and Men
Author: Ayrith/ insanely_poetic
Theme + Number: 74. Birds
Claim: Freya Crescent
Characters/Pairings included: Freya, Amarant
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Language
Summary: Amarant's first meeting with Freya did not go quite as planned. For him or the damn birds.
“Let’s get one thing straight, Coral,” Freya Crescent told him over a flock of squawking pygeese, expression fierce despite the bird goop on her helmet. “I stab first and ask questions later.”
The image would have been more amusing if Amarant had been less covered in bird shit. More to the point, the whole situation had been a lot more interesting ten minutes ago, when their weapons had been pointed at each other’s throats rather than at the sky. There was nothing like greeting a stranger for the first time by embedding lengths of steel in their guts, and despite the Burmecian’s willowy frame, there was something hard and cold in those white-blue eyes that Amarant could appreciate.
This appreciation dropped considerably upon learning that she was an acquaintance of the monkey bastard, but enough interest remained to make his return to the Mist Continent only ninety percent a waste of time.
That had been the plan anyway, until a feint with that deadly sharp spear of hers forced him to careen straight into a fully loaded wagon carrying cages of Bentini fucking Pygeese (why did someone have a wagon full of monster birds in a city as large as Alexandria? They were weak and annoying as hell.)
Fortunately, a convenient alleyway off of Alexandrian square had provided them coverage from excessive public humiliation. Unfortunately, the pygeese had followed them in. It was hard work, beating blindly at flapping wings and wicked beaks while trying to maintain eye contact with a shred of dignity.
Who was he kidding; there was not a single shred of dignity about any of this. So hell if he wasn’t going to at least win the staring contest.
“Like I’d be afraid of a rat faced-“ Amarant grimaced as a particularly loathsome pygeese trumpeted in his eardrum. Knocking it into a nearby window wasn’t satisfying enough; the damn thing had made his eyes water.
The rat, damn her, was still plugging along through her tiring speech. “Don’t think I am unaware of the real story behind why you joined up with us-”
“I don’t remember volunteering to join any-“ He ducked as sharp talons made for his eyeballs.
“-And if you think I’ll just stand by as you make fruitless attempts at Zidane’s life, idiot that he is, you have another thing coming.”
“Shut up about the monkey all ready, I could care less-“ A wing hit him hard in neck.
Oblivious to his slight wheezing, Crescent pointed a tipped claw at him, narrowly missing the throat of a yapping gizzard. “Zidane may trust you gods know why, but I certainly don’t. Furthermore-“
“You…-damn it!” A nasty beak decided to clamp tight over his ear, nearly severing it from his head. Two vicious tugs and it let go-along with what felt like a good chuck of flesh and hair.
Oh, the claws went flashing then.
It wasn’t till five birds lay bleeding at his feet and about twenty more had swarmed above his head that Amarant realized that the Burmecian was staring stupidly at the scene, bird-free and silent and doing nothing.
“What the hell are you just standing around for?” he snarled from a thicket of feathers. If this was the extent of her skills, she was definitely a waste of his time.
Without out warning, there was a boom and then a blast of green light spiraling through the alleyway, kicking up dirt and rattling windows and scattering the pygeese like motes of dust. Amarant, caught off guard, got a mouth full of feathers and gagged. He only had enough time to spit out the crap between his teeth when quite suddenly, a glowing sharp blade was scant inches from his throat. Eyes itchy with sand, he stared down its length at a serious Freya Crescent and all thoughts of her looking ridiculous covered in bird crap flew right out of his head.
The moment was ruined completely when she lowered her lance and he realized she was fighting down a smirk.
“What?” he barked.
“Nevermind. We’ll resume this conversation another time.” The lance swung heavily to her shoulder as she turned to walk away, dancing between the shuddering bodies of pygeese, leaving him to stare blankly after her. She had only taken three steps however, when she threw casually over her shoulder, “Perhaps when you are not being bullied by a pack of pigeons?”
She jumped away before he could throw a Rising Sun and be done with it.
Waste of time, indeed.