#79 -- Freaking Tree Magic GW/PRMF
Title: Freaking Tree Magic
Author: silvercaladan
Fandom: Gundam Wing/Power Rangers Mystic Force
Word Count: 1616
Challenge: #79 -- Desert
Rating: Kish
A/N: First person viewpoint is limited, remember, by what the main character knows. Spoilers for GW through Ep 11. Duo runs into an interesting rebel, and starts a beautiful friendship.
Freaking Tree Magic
It always impressed me how together the Maganacs were. There weren't that many of them, and they were basically fighting against huge odds, risking their lives and families for what they believed in. I mean, it was one thing for people like me to do it; I didn't have that much of a life to lose anyway. There's not much about stealing food to survive that keeps you coming back voluntarily!
But these guys were ridiculously nice and well-connected, almost like a huge international family. They had bases all over the desert, and the townspeople completely adored them. It was... a new experience for me, being handed flowers by pretty girls. Especially after OZ essentially turned us into the murderous terrorists their media control department has been depicting us as.
It wasn't hard to figure out why the townspeople celebrated the arrival of the Maganac core, though.
I started understanding after an hour or so of wandering around the town by myself, poking my head where it didn't belong. It came upon me in a wave of thirst, and exhaustion. The Maganacs bring hope and assistance, stuff isolated towns can't survive without. Me either, it seemed like. But days of running and fighting, of waking nightmares and insomnia will do that to a guy, especially if said guy is wearing heavy black in the middle of the fucking desert! I swear, sometimes I'm so masochistic it catches even me off guard. At least the long sleeves kept me from getting sunburned.
I paused underneath a gnarled tree at the forefront of what appeared to be a protected grove. Shade! At last! Collapsing against the tree, I wiped off my forehead and looked upwards into the tree...
"AH!!"
We both yelled and jumped back... well, I reached for the gun stuck in my belt and the dude in the tree dropped an orange on my head before crashing on the ground in front of me. Ow. Now that looked rather painful.
"Dude... are you still breathing?" Fighting instincts aside, my mind reasserts that we are in a safe location, and killing allies is bad business. Particularly when said allies have access to a legion of pretty girls.
He groaned from the heap of clothes and raised his head to glare at me. "Ya really shouldn't scare a bloke like that when he's doing delicate work!"
I raised an eyebrow at him as he stood up and brushed himself off. An Aussie in the Sahara? Now that's a new one. I mean, the Maganacs obviously picked up strays from all over, as evidenced by their name. I mean, what kind of Arabian speaks Tagalog? But an Aussie? I suppose it makes sense; the Outback is practically all desert anyway.
"Climbing trees is not what I would call delicate work." I lounged back, tossing the orange up and down languidly, ignoring the way my voice cracked from thirst.
The guy snatched the orange out of my grip and tossed it into a messenger bag slung about his shoulders. "Climbing is not the hard part, mate." He stepped past me and shimmied up the tree, big desert boots and long hooded cloak not hindering his agile movement in the least. Once in the tree, his drab tan gear blended in well enough with the gnarled limbs that I wasn't too surprised I hadn't noticed him. He looked kind of awkward, perched low in the tree like a precarious sand-colored bird. A ridiculously quiet sand bird.
"What the fuck are you doing?" So I was curious, sue me. Its not everyday I come across an oasis grove in the middle of a desert town. They don't have deserts in space, or at least not ones with air.
The dude twitched, and glared at me, huffing in irritation. "Oh buzz off."
I crossed my arms, torn between laughing at his awesome accent and being a stubborn idiot. The dude practically fell on me, I think I'm entitled to knowing what's going on! What came out of my mouth, however, was not words, but a hacking cough. Apparently the combination of exhaustion and thirst had finally had enough. Over the hacking, I heard a thunk and a sloshing noise, and my watery eyes picked out a canteen at my feet. I grabbed it and sucked down several desperate gulps, the sweet, strong taste of one of the Alliance's vitamin drinks soothing my throat. "Thanks."
"Keep it. I can get another when I go back to base." He leaned over the limb, studying me as I sipped from the canteen less desperately. "Bite ya bum and ya will find out what I'm doin. I'll need your help when I'm done, anyway. Take a nap or something."
I raised an eyebrow at his ridiculous turn of phrase, but got the gist. I can be quiet when the situation calls for it. I totally can. I occupied myself watching the dude press his bare hand on the tree and move his lips soundlessly. I'm not that great at reading lips, nowhere near as good as that idiot Heero, but it looked like he was repeating the same phrase over and over. Great. A deranged but kind Aussie sitting in a tree muttering. At least I got refreshing liquid out of the craziness...
"Heads up!" The dude yelled, startling me out of a light doze. I reacted instantly, springing to my feet and glancing wildly around for the trouble. Trouble turned out to be a bag to the face.
"What the fuck?" I sputtered and pulled it off, glaring up at the dude... only to get sidetracked by the tree.
"Dude...." The tree with branches now hanging towards the ground, they were so heavy with oranges. "Jesus Christ on a pogo stick! How the fuck did you DO that?!"
The dude peered at me around a handful of fruit, gesturing towards me with them. "Magic. Now hold the bag open or I'll start walloping ya with oranges."
"You can't be serious." Flabbergasted doesn't even begin to cover what's going on. Either I'm hallucinating a particularly appetizing mirage and he's playing along, or I've gone insane. Fruit just doesn't grow that freaking fast, even if its been genetically engineered. In response, he merely chucks an orange at me, which I instinctively catch. "It's real..."
"Of course its real, what kind of fool mage would bother to create an imaginary orange? Waste of good talent! Now stop catching flies and start catching fruit, or else harvesting'll take forever. And I ain't got forever, mate." The dude started reaching for all of the oranges he could reach without breaking the tree limbs, tossing them at my face one after another, regardless of if I was paying attention or not. He muttered to himself while he worked, kind of like I do when I'm working on Deathsycthe, mostly about how ridiculous my reaction was. So I caught the oranges. With the bag. And then with another bag, when that one was full to bursting. Eventually the dude had to resort to shaking the tree limbs with all of his weight to get to some of the oranges.
I stayed silent, and watched. He mumbled phrases again while shaking the tree limbs. So either he was mumbling magic phrases and it was working, or it wasn't working and my earlier assessment of him as a crazy psychotic was correct.
"Whassa matter, cat got your tongue? You sure were earbashing me earlier." The work done, the guy climbed agilely out of the tree, landing with a whump on the other side of the full bags, brushing his hands off and simultaneously studying me. "Me name's Xander, Xander Bly. Rebel fighter outta Cali. And you, oh mute one?"
"You do freaking magic. With trees. And you're an Australian insurgent from California. Okay, that's it, when did I join the cast of the Twilight Zone?"
Xander laughed, a carefree, obviously amused laugh. "Mate, I don't know about you, but I joined years ago as a recurring character. I'd bet you're only guest starring, probably from the cast of some military movie, fighting Nazis and such. Anyway, wanna help me carry one or two of these back to the base? I'll tell someone to send some grunts out for the rest, or the townspeople will take some. Either way, it gets where its goin."
".... so not only do you do magic, you do it to feed other rebel groups."
He shrugged, already reaching for a bag to sling over his back. "Gotta support the cause anyway you can, y'know? And food gets expensive, especially out here in the desert. The Alliance doesn't care about starving people out of low prosperity areas, and there is nothing more disgusting than a starving child."
My face grew dark, and I said "I gotcha. You got the ability, and so you do what you can with it." I could understand that, no matter how freakishly outlandish and unrealistic his ability was. I was one of the best goddamned pilots G had ever seen, had no family, and had a ridiculous grudge against the Alliance. It put me in the perfect position to fight a lonely battle against impossible odds. Nobody likes tyrants.
"Right. So, you gunna help or just stand there like a loon?"
I leaned down, and picked up a back, grinning at Xander, my good cheer restored. Magic or not, results are results and intention means more than even that. "My name's Duo. Duo Maxwell. And I'll help you while still looking like a loon! A gloriously sexy loon."
Author: silvercaladan
Fandom: Gundam Wing/Power Rangers Mystic Force
Word Count: 1616
Challenge: #79 -- Desert
Rating: Kish
A/N: First person viewpoint is limited, remember, by what the main character knows. Spoilers for GW through Ep 11. Duo runs into an interesting rebel, and starts a beautiful friendship.
Freaking Tree Magic
It always impressed me how together the Maganacs were. There weren't that many of them, and they were basically fighting against huge odds, risking their lives and families for what they believed in. I mean, it was one thing for people like me to do it; I didn't have that much of a life to lose anyway. There's not much about stealing food to survive that keeps you coming back voluntarily!
But these guys were ridiculously nice and well-connected, almost like a huge international family. They had bases all over the desert, and the townspeople completely adored them. It was... a new experience for me, being handed flowers by pretty girls. Especially after OZ essentially turned us into the murderous terrorists their media control department has been depicting us as.
It wasn't hard to figure out why the townspeople celebrated the arrival of the Maganac core, though.
I started understanding after an hour or so of wandering around the town by myself, poking my head where it didn't belong. It came upon me in a wave of thirst, and exhaustion. The Maganacs bring hope and assistance, stuff isolated towns can't survive without. Me either, it seemed like. But days of running and fighting, of waking nightmares and insomnia will do that to a guy, especially if said guy is wearing heavy black in the middle of the fucking desert! I swear, sometimes I'm so masochistic it catches even me off guard. At least the long sleeves kept me from getting sunburned.
I paused underneath a gnarled tree at the forefront of what appeared to be a protected grove. Shade! At last! Collapsing against the tree, I wiped off my forehead and looked upwards into the tree...
"AH!!"
We both yelled and jumped back... well, I reached for the gun stuck in my belt and the dude in the tree dropped an orange on my head before crashing on the ground in front of me. Ow. Now that looked rather painful.
"Dude... are you still breathing?" Fighting instincts aside, my mind reasserts that we are in a safe location, and killing allies is bad business. Particularly when said allies have access to a legion of pretty girls.
He groaned from the heap of clothes and raised his head to glare at me. "Ya really shouldn't scare a bloke like that when he's doing delicate work!"
I raised an eyebrow at him as he stood up and brushed himself off. An Aussie in the Sahara? Now that's a new one. I mean, the Maganacs obviously picked up strays from all over, as evidenced by their name. I mean, what kind of Arabian speaks Tagalog? But an Aussie? I suppose it makes sense; the Outback is practically all desert anyway.
"Climbing trees is not what I would call delicate work." I lounged back, tossing the orange up and down languidly, ignoring the way my voice cracked from thirst.
The guy snatched the orange out of my grip and tossed it into a messenger bag slung about his shoulders. "Climbing is not the hard part, mate." He stepped past me and shimmied up the tree, big desert boots and long hooded cloak not hindering his agile movement in the least. Once in the tree, his drab tan gear blended in well enough with the gnarled limbs that I wasn't too surprised I hadn't noticed him. He looked kind of awkward, perched low in the tree like a precarious sand-colored bird. A ridiculously quiet sand bird.
"What the fuck are you doing?" So I was curious, sue me. Its not everyday I come across an oasis grove in the middle of a desert town. They don't have deserts in space, or at least not ones with air.
The dude twitched, and glared at me, huffing in irritation. "Oh buzz off."
I crossed my arms, torn between laughing at his awesome accent and being a stubborn idiot. The dude practically fell on me, I think I'm entitled to knowing what's going on! What came out of my mouth, however, was not words, but a hacking cough. Apparently the combination of exhaustion and thirst had finally had enough. Over the hacking, I heard a thunk and a sloshing noise, and my watery eyes picked out a canteen at my feet. I grabbed it and sucked down several desperate gulps, the sweet, strong taste of one of the Alliance's vitamin drinks soothing my throat. "Thanks."
"Keep it. I can get another when I go back to base." He leaned over the limb, studying me as I sipped from the canteen less desperately. "Bite ya bum and ya will find out what I'm doin. I'll need your help when I'm done, anyway. Take a nap or something."
I raised an eyebrow at his ridiculous turn of phrase, but got the gist. I can be quiet when the situation calls for it. I totally can. I occupied myself watching the dude press his bare hand on the tree and move his lips soundlessly. I'm not that great at reading lips, nowhere near as good as that idiot Heero, but it looked like he was repeating the same phrase over and over. Great. A deranged but kind Aussie sitting in a tree muttering. At least I got refreshing liquid out of the craziness...
"Heads up!" The dude yelled, startling me out of a light doze. I reacted instantly, springing to my feet and glancing wildly around for the trouble. Trouble turned out to be a bag to the face.
"What the fuck?" I sputtered and pulled it off, glaring up at the dude... only to get sidetracked by the tree.
"Dude...." The tree with branches now hanging towards the ground, they were so heavy with oranges. "Jesus Christ on a pogo stick! How the fuck did you DO that?!"
The dude peered at me around a handful of fruit, gesturing towards me with them. "Magic. Now hold the bag open or I'll start walloping ya with oranges."
"You can't be serious." Flabbergasted doesn't even begin to cover what's going on. Either I'm hallucinating a particularly appetizing mirage and he's playing along, or I've gone insane. Fruit just doesn't grow that freaking fast, even if its been genetically engineered. In response, he merely chucks an orange at me, which I instinctively catch. "It's real..."
"Of course its real, what kind of fool mage would bother to create an imaginary orange? Waste of good talent! Now stop catching flies and start catching fruit, or else harvesting'll take forever. And I ain't got forever, mate." The dude started reaching for all of the oranges he could reach without breaking the tree limbs, tossing them at my face one after another, regardless of if I was paying attention or not. He muttered to himself while he worked, kind of like I do when I'm working on Deathsycthe, mostly about how ridiculous my reaction was. So I caught the oranges. With the bag. And then with another bag, when that one was full to bursting. Eventually the dude had to resort to shaking the tree limbs with all of his weight to get to some of the oranges.
I stayed silent, and watched. He mumbled phrases again while shaking the tree limbs. So either he was mumbling magic phrases and it was working, or it wasn't working and my earlier assessment of him as a crazy psychotic was correct.
"Whassa matter, cat got your tongue? You sure were earbashing me earlier." The work done, the guy climbed agilely out of the tree, landing with a whump on the other side of the full bags, brushing his hands off and simultaneously studying me. "Me name's Xander, Xander Bly. Rebel fighter outta Cali. And you, oh mute one?"
"You do freaking magic. With trees. And you're an Australian insurgent from California. Okay, that's it, when did I join the cast of the Twilight Zone?"
Xander laughed, a carefree, obviously amused laugh. "Mate, I don't know about you, but I joined years ago as a recurring character. I'd bet you're only guest starring, probably from the cast of some military movie, fighting Nazis and such. Anyway, wanna help me carry one or two of these back to the base? I'll tell someone to send some grunts out for the rest, or the townspeople will take some. Either way, it gets where its goin."
".... so not only do you do magic, you do it to feed other rebel groups."
He shrugged, already reaching for a bag to sling over his back. "Gotta support the cause anyway you can, y'know? And food gets expensive, especially out here in the desert. The Alliance doesn't care about starving people out of low prosperity areas, and there is nothing more disgusting than a starving child."
My face grew dark, and I said "I gotcha. You got the ability, and so you do what you can with it." I could understand that, no matter how freakishly outlandish and unrealistic his ability was. I was one of the best goddamned pilots G had ever seen, had no family, and had a ridiculous grudge against the Alliance. It put me in the perfect position to fight a lonely battle against impossible odds. Nobody likes tyrants.
"Right. So, you gunna help or just stand there like a loon?"
I leaned down, and picked up a back, grinning at Xander, my good cheer restored. Magic or not, results are results and intention means more than even that. "My name's Duo. Duo Maxwell. And I'll help you while still looking like a loon! A gloriously sexy loon."