[Guilty Gear] Untitled Snippet Thing
This is basically just a repost of what I'd written some time ago as an experiment with Sin's voice. I wanted to have it here because the plot bunnies demanded I turn this into a full-blown arc, so that when I do get around to it, it's all in one place.
Untitled Ficlet Thing
The first thing he noticed was the stench. It was the kind of overpowering smell the humongous slimy toad types tended to spew when you killed them-something you had to learn how to dodge or you'd be treated to the lovely feeling of your skin melting off your flesh. In here, it smelled as if someone had rounded up a legion of the creatures and exploded them all over the walls.
Sin gagged, his nose still filing protests with his brain despite the fact that he was pinching it shut. The 'rents, he noticed, didn't even flinch, just exchanged one of those looks they'd been exchanging ever since the old man had brought home that tidbit of information, which he'd pointedly refused to share with Sin.
Sin had been pretty miffed about that, and had become even more miffed when Ky had implied that they were only letting him tag along because leaving him alone would be even more dangerous. Stupid mother-henning tendencies.
"Ew, god. Are we taking out a den of vomit frogs or something?"
His complaint was, predictably, met with nothing, not even the slightest hint of acknowledgment. The 'rents hadn't really said much of anything in response to his questions, leaving him to follow their lead like an incompetent puppy. Quoting the first rule of bounty hunting-"Always know what the hell you're signing up for"-had only earned him a swift cuff upside the head from the old man, and one that was none too friendly.
The last time his father had cuffed him in earnest, he'd been a year old and had nearly managed to get himself digested through sheer stupidity. As if he'd be dumb enough to do that again-for one, it had been pretty gross, and for another, if the old man said he was in for an ass-kicking, then boy, was he ever in for one.
The only thing he'd managed to get out of him was that they were going to a 'secret facility'. By definition alone, 'facility' could have meant any number of things, and 'secret' usually implied that it would be an awesome adventure, but this wasn't awesome, this was odoriferous, and the scenery was really horribly boring.
Concrete corridors bathed in flickering lights and metal doors with big white numbers painted on them, each the same as the other, footsteps echoing if you weren't extremely careful not to make any noise. The 'rents were being extremely careful. Sin had never seen them stalking, tense and alert and communicating just with looks he couldn't understand-the old man never bothered with stalking anything, and his mom was usually moving too fast to leave a bounty time enough to consider a retreat.
Sin really didn't like quiet serious angry 'rents. When the 'rents were mad, they were loud, bickering and yelling and hurling magic (though that was mostly his mom). He knew things were cool when they were putting each other through walls. The silence was making him twitchy.
Even hoping that there was something to be learned from watching was proving to be an exercise in boredom. They were moving from door to door and opening them seemingly at random-actually opening as in 'opening', rather than just smashing them in, his mom zapping the electronic locks into submission. Where was the fun, Sin thought, if you couldn't do a little collateral damage? Creators of vomit frogs, in his opinion, did not deserve to be treated with special consideration.
"You know," he finally muttered, after his parents had peered inside the umpteenth room without producing any kind of interesting result, "If you'd tell me what we're looking for, we could split up and search. That'd be quicker."
The glare he got in return was fierce enough to make him want to check for his eyebrows.
"You stay right behind us," Ky ordered, his voice tight, "or I'll kill you."
"Doesn't that kinda defeat the purpose?" Sin whispered back, and the glare intensified just enough to make him sorry he'd even bothered trying to argue semantics. He couldn't understand why they were suddenly acting like he was some kind of bothersome baggage they'd been settled with-them wonderfully wrapped in their own little world of gloom, him on the outside, getting punished for not evolving psychic abilities right this instant.
It was making him wonder just how much he didn't know about them. It wasn't that they had been hiding stuff from him-quite the contrary, they'd been upfront about a lot of things. Yet it was only now that he was slowly becoming aware of the gaps, the vast expanse of blankness surrounding them. All the information he had was dry, simple facts-a war, and destruction, and Gears-but nothing to paint any kind of picture, nothing to create an understanding of the kind of people they had been before he'd met them. Sin admitted it was probably partly his own fault-he had never really been interested until now. The 'rents were the 'rents, after all.
It was bugging him more than he liked to admit.
They moved on, down another bend, past another row of doors. Sin found himself wishing that something would jump out at them just because-the 'rents could work off their anger, and he'd get to test out fighting while holding his breath. The stench was becoming thick enough to taste, something sweetly-foul mixing with the sharp chemical stink, producing the kind of blend that made you want to retch, Gear stomach or no.
Eventually, they stopped.
"This is it." It was the first time his old man had opened his mouth since the start of the entire operation, grim and focused, any trace of laziness evaporated into nothingness.
A nod, and then his mom was moving to disable the lock in front of another nondescript door. No questions, no jabs about being directionally challenged. The numbers on the lock were clicking rapidly back and forth until the thing gave a beep of defeat, the door sliding open with a slow grinding sound, getting stuck halfway through.
A wave of the pungent odor hit them in the face, and this time, his mom did wince, while Sin was working hard to control the bile rising in his throat. Whoever was responsible for that was going to pay. He moved to follow after his old man, who was already squeezing through the doorway, sword at the ready.
A hand landed on his forearm. "You're staying put."
Sin stared incredulously. "But-!"
The hand squeezed, just tightly enough to let him know that a debate wasn't an option, and then his mother was gone. Sin glared after him as his back was swallowed by the darkness-like hell he'd stay here, not after putting up with all of the threats and needless secrecy. He wasn't a little kid anymore. At least a peek would satisfy his curiosity.
Taking a deep breath, he slipped through the gap in the door, and froze.
----
A/N: Very rough ficbit, will definitely have to be polished for the actual story. The 'verse is called the reboot verse because I'll be basically drawing Sin into the X-verse timeline (since dammit, it's logical). In short, the events of Overture won't take place there-Ky won't be king, and lots of speculative plot things will happen. Sin's a character with tons of potential, and I was sad to see such a plotline imposed on such a fun character.
More notes for the bored:
- I owe the use of "'rents" to misskalloway's posts about her family, but it seemed like such a Sin thing to say.
- Writing Sin is a lot like playing DDR; you end up hopping between curious, bored, flippant, kicked-puppy, adventurous, annoyed and mildly introspective, and that was a setting with a "limited" range of moods.
Untitled Ficlet Thing
The first thing he noticed was the stench. It was the kind of overpowering smell the humongous slimy toad types tended to spew when you killed them-something you had to learn how to dodge or you'd be treated to the lovely feeling of your skin melting off your flesh. In here, it smelled as if someone had rounded up a legion of the creatures and exploded them all over the walls.
Sin gagged, his nose still filing protests with his brain despite the fact that he was pinching it shut. The 'rents, he noticed, didn't even flinch, just exchanged one of those looks they'd been exchanging ever since the old man had brought home that tidbit of information, which he'd pointedly refused to share with Sin.
Sin had been pretty miffed about that, and had become even more miffed when Ky had implied that they were only letting him tag along because leaving him alone would be even more dangerous. Stupid mother-henning tendencies.
"Ew, god. Are we taking out a den of vomit frogs or something?"
His complaint was, predictably, met with nothing, not even the slightest hint of acknowledgment. The 'rents hadn't really said much of anything in response to his questions, leaving him to follow their lead like an incompetent puppy. Quoting the first rule of bounty hunting-"Always know what the hell you're signing up for"-had only earned him a swift cuff upside the head from the old man, and one that was none too friendly.
The last time his father had cuffed him in earnest, he'd been a year old and had nearly managed to get himself digested through sheer stupidity. As if he'd be dumb enough to do that again-for one, it had been pretty gross, and for another, if the old man said he was in for an ass-kicking, then boy, was he ever in for one.
The only thing he'd managed to get out of him was that they were going to a 'secret facility'. By definition alone, 'facility' could have meant any number of things, and 'secret' usually implied that it would be an awesome adventure, but this wasn't awesome, this was odoriferous, and the scenery was really horribly boring.
Concrete corridors bathed in flickering lights and metal doors with big white numbers painted on them, each the same as the other, footsteps echoing if you weren't extremely careful not to make any noise. The 'rents were being extremely careful. Sin had never seen them stalking, tense and alert and communicating just with looks he couldn't understand-the old man never bothered with stalking anything, and his mom was usually moving too fast to leave a bounty time enough to consider a retreat.
Sin really didn't like quiet serious angry 'rents. When the 'rents were mad, they were loud, bickering and yelling and hurling magic (though that was mostly his mom). He knew things were cool when they were putting each other through walls. The silence was making him twitchy.
Even hoping that there was something to be learned from watching was proving to be an exercise in boredom. They were moving from door to door and opening them seemingly at random-actually opening as in 'opening', rather than just smashing them in, his mom zapping the electronic locks into submission. Where was the fun, Sin thought, if you couldn't do a little collateral damage? Creators of vomit frogs, in his opinion, did not deserve to be treated with special consideration.
"You know," he finally muttered, after his parents had peered inside the umpteenth room without producing any kind of interesting result, "If you'd tell me what we're looking for, we could split up and search. That'd be quicker."
The glare he got in return was fierce enough to make him want to check for his eyebrows.
"You stay right behind us," Ky ordered, his voice tight, "or I'll kill you."
"Doesn't that kinda defeat the purpose?" Sin whispered back, and the glare intensified just enough to make him sorry he'd even bothered trying to argue semantics. He couldn't understand why they were suddenly acting like he was some kind of bothersome baggage they'd been settled with-them wonderfully wrapped in their own little world of gloom, him on the outside, getting punished for not evolving psychic abilities right this instant.
It was making him wonder just how much he didn't know about them. It wasn't that they had been hiding stuff from him-quite the contrary, they'd been upfront about a lot of things. Yet it was only now that he was slowly becoming aware of the gaps, the vast expanse of blankness surrounding them. All the information he had was dry, simple facts-a war, and destruction, and Gears-but nothing to paint any kind of picture, nothing to create an understanding of the kind of people they had been before he'd met them. Sin admitted it was probably partly his own fault-he had never really been interested until now. The 'rents were the 'rents, after all.
It was bugging him more than he liked to admit.
They moved on, down another bend, past another row of doors. Sin found himself wishing that something would jump out at them just because-the 'rents could work off their anger, and he'd get to test out fighting while holding his breath. The stench was becoming thick enough to taste, something sweetly-foul mixing with the sharp chemical stink, producing the kind of blend that made you want to retch, Gear stomach or no.
Eventually, they stopped.
"This is it." It was the first time his old man had opened his mouth since the start of the entire operation, grim and focused, any trace of laziness evaporated into nothingness.
A nod, and then his mom was moving to disable the lock in front of another nondescript door. No questions, no jabs about being directionally challenged. The numbers on the lock were clicking rapidly back and forth until the thing gave a beep of defeat, the door sliding open with a slow grinding sound, getting stuck halfway through.
A wave of the pungent odor hit them in the face, and this time, his mom did wince, while Sin was working hard to control the bile rising in his throat. Whoever was responsible for that was going to pay. He moved to follow after his old man, who was already squeezing through the doorway, sword at the ready.
A hand landed on his forearm. "You're staying put."
Sin stared incredulously. "But-!"
The hand squeezed, just tightly enough to let him know that a debate wasn't an option, and then his mother was gone. Sin glared after him as his back was swallowed by the darkness-like hell he'd stay here, not after putting up with all of the threats and needless secrecy. He wasn't a little kid anymore. At least a peek would satisfy his curiosity.
Taking a deep breath, he slipped through the gap in the door, and froze.
----
A/N: Very rough ficbit, will definitely have to be polished for the actual story. The 'verse is called the reboot verse because I'll be basically drawing Sin into the X-verse timeline (since dammit, it's logical). In short, the events of Overture won't take place there-Ky won't be king, and lots of speculative plot things will happen. Sin's a character with tons of potential, and I was sad to see such a plotline imposed on such a fun character.
More notes for the bored:
- I owe the use of "'rents" to misskalloway's posts about her family, but it seemed like such a Sin thing to say.
- Writing Sin is a lot like playing DDR; you end up hopping between curious, bored, flippant, kicked-puppy, adventurous, annoyed and mildly introspective, and that was a setting with a "limited" range of moods.