Insides challenge (fanfic100) [Willis]
Title: Insides
Fandom: Digimon 02
Characters: Willis, Mimi
Prompt: Insides
Word Count: 544
Rating: PG
Summary: Willis gets a tour of Mimi's apartment.
Author's Notes: I'm messing quite a bit with the storyline of Digimon 02; take that, canon! This story, as well as the others for the fanfic100 challenge, will assume that the second half of the season did not occur. Instead, Ken *chose* to be the Kaiser and then *chose* to be redeemed. And only the Chosen Children have digimon, not the entire world. I'm using Willis' American-dub name, rather than Wallace (simply because I like the name Willis more), but I will be using the Japanese names for the other characters. My little table.
She lived on the East Side, of course; much lower than my folks' place, but still in a neighborhood stuffed with boutiques and coffee shops that held on against the tide of economic downturn out of pure snobbish spite. Sidewalks were clean, street was clean, even the trees were scrubbed and shining.
She pushed her big sunglasses up to perch on top of her shining head and rummaged through her designer bag until I heard the jangle of keys. She tossed her grin over her shoulder and then in a swirl of vanilla and strawberry, opened the door and led me inside.
Mimi's apartment was carefully designed to be bohemian by someone without the slightest idea of what the word meant: soft slouching chairs, mismatched pillows, replications of dandelion puffs dangling from the ceiling. It was chic and sophisticated and filled with furniture that had been polished into a shine with hundred dollar bills. The hallway was painted white - no, white wasn't bourgeoisie enough: pearl, or diamond, or king's semen or something. My parents would love it; they'd probably lick the walls in ecstasy. Photographs in black frames hung in clusters, small windows to make up for the lack of real ones.
Mimi draped her purse on a silver hook and swished into the living room, and I followed her ass like a fish on a line. She dropped onto her couch and patted the cushion next to her invitingly. "Tell me all about yourself! When did you get your digimon? When did you meet everyone?"
I stopped plucking at a weird wired statue of guitar-fish hybrid and sat next to her. "Years ago, for both questions." It had been years; I was getting old. "Those halcyon days of youth and all."
Her perfect lips puckered into a frown. "How old are you, Willis?"
"Seventeen."
"A baby," she said, smiling again.
"Same age as Hikari-chan and Take-tan." And Daisuke, of course. "So, you live here all by yourself?" I looked around for her bedroom.
"Isn't it nice? I was getting so sick of living with my parents. So Daddy helped me find this! I live here with Lisette - She's probably at work right now. We met on a shoot together."
"So you're an assassin? Sweet."
"What? No, model!" Mimi giggled behind her hand; she hadn't lost all her Japanese mannerisms, then.
Even without all the pictures of her with windblown hair and clown make-up, I knew from the first second that Mimi was a model. She crossed her long legs that stretched out like a million cliches and tossed her hair back with a careless gesture that made my stomach bounce. I wondered if she did any nude shoots. "Your digimon's Palmon, right?"
She nodded and lowered her honey eyes. "I miss her. A lot, still. But I'm so glad I finally met you! I thought I was going to go crazy the first few years I live here all by myself, without any other Chosen Children. Let's be friends, ok?"
And then she reach over and grabbed my hand in hers, soft and smooth and warm, and all I could do was nod.
Fandom: Digimon 02
Characters: Willis, Mimi
Prompt: Insides
Word Count: 544
Rating: PG
Summary: Willis gets a tour of Mimi's apartment.
Author's Notes: I'm messing quite a bit with the storyline of Digimon 02; take that, canon! This story, as well as the others for the fanfic100 challenge, will assume that the second half of the season did not occur. Instead, Ken *chose* to be the Kaiser and then *chose* to be redeemed. And only the Chosen Children have digimon, not the entire world. I'm using Willis' American-dub name, rather than Wallace (simply because I like the name Willis more), but I will be using the Japanese names for the other characters. My little table.
She lived on the East Side, of course; much lower than my folks' place, but still in a neighborhood stuffed with boutiques and coffee shops that held on against the tide of economic downturn out of pure snobbish spite. Sidewalks were clean, street was clean, even the trees were scrubbed and shining.
She pushed her big sunglasses up to perch on top of her shining head and rummaged through her designer bag until I heard the jangle of keys. She tossed her grin over her shoulder and then in a swirl of vanilla and strawberry, opened the door and led me inside.
Mimi's apartment was carefully designed to be bohemian by someone without the slightest idea of what the word meant: soft slouching chairs, mismatched pillows, replications of dandelion puffs dangling from the ceiling. It was chic and sophisticated and filled with furniture that had been polished into a shine with hundred dollar bills. The hallway was painted white - no, white wasn't bourgeoisie enough: pearl, or diamond, or king's semen or something. My parents would love it; they'd probably lick the walls in ecstasy. Photographs in black frames hung in clusters, small windows to make up for the lack of real ones.
Mimi draped her purse on a silver hook and swished into the living room, and I followed her ass like a fish on a line. She dropped onto her couch and patted the cushion next to her invitingly. "Tell me all about yourself! When did you get your digimon? When did you meet everyone?"
I stopped plucking at a weird wired statue of guitar-fish hybrid and sat next to her. "Years ago, for both questions." It had been years; I was getting old. "Those halcyon days of youth and all."
Her perfect lips puckered into a frown. "How old are you, Willis?"
"Seventeen."
"A baby," she said, smiling again.
"Same age as Hikari-chan and Take-tan." And Daisuke, of course. "So, you live here all by yourself?" I looked around for her bedroom.
"Isn't it nice? I was getting so sick of living with my parents. So Daddy helped me find this! I live here with Lisette - She's probably at work right now. We met on a shoot together."
"So you're an assassin? Sweet."
"What? No, model!" Mimi giggled behind her hand; she hadn't lost all her Japanese mannerisms, then.
Even without all the pictures of her with windblown hair and clown make-up, I knew from the first second that Mimi was a model. She crossed her long legs that stretched out like a million cliches and tossed her hair back with a careless gesture that made my stomach bounce. I wondered if she did any nude shoots. "Your digimon's Palmon, right?"
She nodded and lowered her honey eyes. "I miss her. A lot, still. But I'm so glad I finally met you! I thought I was going to go crazy the first few years I live here all by myself, without any other Chosen Children. Let's be friends, ok?"
And then she reach over and grabbed my hand in hers, soft and smooth and warm, and all I could do was nod.