Beginning snippet of fanfic
Guilty Gear, Sol and Ky, Untitled
The first time Sol sees Ky, the kid looks like nothing more than a bedraggled kitten: hair and clothes plastered to his skin by the rain outside to make him seem even smaller, his eyes enormous and pleading. Sol looks at him for a moment, then goes back to his meal. He's probably one of the kids of one of the soldiers -- shouldn't be here, but his mom or dad will send him home. Not Sol's problem.
A couple of minutes later there's a polite clearing of the throat, the sort of thing that's easy to ignore. Sol does so.
"Excuse me," and it's a tiny little voice, with more confidence than Sol would expect such a thing to have. He glances up, unimpressed, to stare at the thing and hope he goes away. "I'm looking for Commander Undersn."
"'s'not here."
The thing's lips twitch into a frown, before there's a look of determination that Sol's only seen five-year-olds apply to their refusal to go down for a nap. (And he doesn't give a damn if the kid looks more like he's twice that age: he's still well below the age where people should be here.) "I can see that. If you could tell me where he is, I'd appreciate that."
"No," Sol says. Hell if he can be bothered to keep track of the Commander's whereabouts, and for all he knows he could be out on patrol.
The thing gives him a look, and Sol's not sure if he's going to start yelling or crying. Apparently he decides on sniffing and turning away instead. "I'll ask someone else, then."
Sol doesn't try to stop him. Why would he?
Comments welcome either here or on Dreamwidth (
).
The first time Sol sees Ky, the kid looks like nothing more than a bedraggled kitten: hair and clothes plastered to his skin by the rain outside to make him seem even smaller, his eyes enormous and pleading. Sol looks at him for a moment, then goes back to his meal. He's probably one of the kids of one of the soldiers -- shouldn't be here, but his mom or dad will send him home. Not Sol's problem.
A couple of minutes later there's a polite clearing of the throat, the sort of thing that's easy to ignore. Sol does so.
"Excuse me," and it's a tiny little voice, with more confidence than Sol would expect such a thing to have. He glances up, unimpressed, to stare at the thing and hope he goes away. "I'm looking for Commander Undersn."
"'s'not here."
The thing's lips twitch into a frown, before there's a look of determination that Sol's only seen five-year-olds apply to their refusal to go down for a nap. (And he doesn't give a damn if the kid looks more like he's twice that age: he's still well below the age where people should be here.) "I can see that. If you could tell me where he is, I'd appreciate that."
"No," Sol says. Hell if he can be bothered to keep track of the Commander's whereabouts, and for all he knows he could be out on patrol.
The thing gives him a look, and Sol's not sure if he's going to start yelling or crying. Apparently he decides on sniffing and turning away instead. "I'll ask someone else, then."
Sol doesn't try to stop him. Why would he?
Comments welcome either here or on Dreamwidth (
).