I like the way this icon makes a good writing icon too
CROSSOVER FIC - because I have an hour to kill before I can go shopping.
~*~
for emeraldus - how about modern day D. Grayman boys meeting up with the Winchester boys?
Warning: Racial slurs, some swearing.
"This is completely illegal," Kanda griped.
"It's only illegal if you get a drink," Allen said absently, rubbing his hands together and blowing on cold fingers. "Besides, I didn't ask you to come."
That was true. It was Rinali who had asked that Kanda drive Allen tonight - to his job, which was surely not at this bar. And in all fairness he should have just left the kid here by himself. But the place looked seedy and the fight they'd had in the parking lot ended in a draw so here they were, because if Allen got himself killed Kanda was going to have to face Rinali at school the next day.
"As if you could handle yourself in a place like this," Kanda snapped.
Allen turned an icy glare on him. "I can handle myself better than you can," the 15-year-old retorted. He swung his gaze over the room and his eyes lit on a group of truckers in a corner; Allen visibly brightened. "Go, I dunno ... do your chemistry homework or something." Allen started to shoulder his way into the small crowd.
Kanda cursed under his breath and looked for something to do that would keep Allen within eyesight. His gaze fell on the pool table; the idiots playing there weren't terribly savory themselves, but at least he wouldn't be sitting around looking completely out of place without a drink. It was bad enough as it was, wearing his collared shirt and black sweater in a poorly-lit building filled with leather jackets.
He took a pool cue off the wall and stood by the table as if he'd always been there. Three of the men hogging the table were unshaven and smelled bad and might have doubled as football linemen if they weren't so incredibly drunk they were swaying on their feet. Kanda snorted his disgust. He could take any of them. Even the beansprout could take any of them, he thought, and amended that with while they were this drunk.
The last man at the table was a good bit shorter, clean-shaven, and hiding a smirk in his jacket every time he knocked a ball in. "Shit, lucky shot," he gasped in mock-surprise.
"Damn, kid, you got some beginner's luck," one trucker slurred, pulling a twenty out of his pocket. "You hustlin' us?"
"What's hustling?" the younger man asked, all innocence.
Kanda sneered at the man's lie. At a collective shout of surprise, he looked away from the table to the huddle of men Allen had shoved his way into. A shock of white-blond hair was hunched over a pile of cards, and as if sensing the gaze, Allen looked up and flashed a brillant smile at Kanda. "Just lucky, I guess," he said loud enough for Kanda to hear.
Allen was hustling the poker players. Also probably cheating the pants off of them. Kanda cursed aloud, and abruptly he was the new center of attention at pool table.
"Whaddaya want, chink?" one trucker asked. Kanda hissed, grabbed his pool cue, and took two seconds to think about the consequences of killing this man with a stick of wood before the pool-hustling man put a hand on the offender's chest. "Woah, woah, come on, man. It's obviously his first time here. You got a problem with him being Chinese?"
"I'm Japanese," Kanda snapped.
"Japanese, then," the man said smoothly, not looking at Kanda.
The trucker considered this with glazed eyes until the man shoved a ten into his hand. "Go buy yourself a drink, okay?" He pushed the trucker off towards the bar before collecting his money off the table, waving the other truckers off, and rounding the table towards Kanda. "Hey, take a walk with me," the man said, going to throw his arm around Kanda's shoulders.
Kanda shrugged him off and spun to face him. "What."
"Woah, geez, I just saved you a fight back there. I still have money to make, can't have you breaking the pool table," the man said. He eyed Kanda up and down and smirked, possibly at a private joke. "What's a kid like you doing in here, anyway? You look like you should be in study hall."
"Stay out of my business."
The man snorted. "Let me guess: somebody dragged you here."
Kanda said nothing.
"Look, kid--"
"Call me that again," Kanda started, and the man put his hands up.
"Okay, geez. Look, my name's Dean. What's yours?" He stuck out his right hand.
Kanda looked at his hand with a flat stare. "I don't shake hands with crooks." Dean actually laughed at that one. Kanda wanted to punch someone. "Only a drunk idiot would fall for your act."
"Yeah, I can see you're not drunk or an idiot," Dean noted. "I saw you come in with that kid with the bleached hair earlier. He's hustling the poker game, isn't he?" Kanda didn't answer, which was apparently answer enough. "Look, you don't tell, I don't tell."
"I would like nothing more than to get kicked out of this shithole," Kanda informed him in a flat tone.
Dean nodded slowly. "You sound like somebody I know." He smirked again, briefly, glancing around the bar. "You wanna get kicked out? How about you slug the kid you came in with, and then you can both go home happy. Well, maybe not happy, but." His smile was something a little wry then. "Worked pretty well for my kid brother." Before Kanda could move away Dean slapped him on the back and started back towards the pool table. "Think about it!"
Kanda watched him go with a furious glare. But ten minutes later, the kicking-punching-even-hair-pulling-fucking-beansprout fight he had with Allen Walker was probably the most satisfying one of his life.
fin
~*~
for killyoudead - Heh, requesting a conclusion to YGO/TWEWY would be bad form, huh?
Beeedoobeedoodoobeeeedaaah
Atem woke up with his cheek against the pavement. The sound of hundreds of people walking and talking assaulted his ears; underneath their voices was the cheerful song of a crosswalk, alerting the pedestrians that it was safe to cross.
He sat up and got to his feet, stretching. The sensation of stiff muscles was slightly astounding, so rarely had he felt such a thing. He barely spared it a thought, though, looking at his surroundings with interest.
People milled in all directions, dressed in some of the most outrageous outfits on Earth. Above the large intersection hung an oversized projected screen, flashing advertisements 24 hours a day. I’m at the Scramble Crossing in Shibuya, he realized. Shibuya was one of Anzu’s favorite places to shop and Yuugi’s favorite place to get his hair styled. On his ‘date’ with Anzu some months ago, they had taken the short train ride here to meet. Domino Prefecture was technically not a part of Shibuya, but it might as well have been. Atem’s own familiarity with this part of Japan was perfunctory. He knew where the card shops were, in any case.
He doubted that would be of any help in this ‘Game’. Aibou, I will get you back, he promised mentally.
Atem jumped when something in his pants pocket started buzzing. He fumbled for it, belatedly recognizing it as a black cell phone after a moment of perplexed staring. He never owned one before, so it stood to reason it had been given to him for the sake of the Game. Yuugi had wanted one, begged for one, but Atem had only ever seen Anzu’s cell phone up close. After all, she was the only person in their group of friends that got one before-Ah, that was why Aibou wanted one. He closed his eyes and smiled before using a thumb to flip the phone open. 1 New Text Message, the screen read.
When Atem had awoken in the Puzzle, inside Yuugi’s mind, he had found that he shared large chunks of knowledge with what he thought, at the time, was another part of himself. Things like how the phone worked, how to speak a language he had never heard before the moment of his awakening, and how yen notes were counted had never presented a mystery for him. Until he had met Shadi, he had never considered that he might not be the same person as Yuugi. However, since that time more and more of Yuugi’s mind had become shut to him. When they became able to communicate with words at Duelist Kingdom, Atem could no longer simply ‘understand’ something by knowing what Yuugi knew. On the other hand, it was when awareness had fully awakened within his own mind and he had begun to wonder ‘why?’ and ‘how?’ about many things, such as why he was in the Puzzle and how he had gotten there.
‘How does this work?’ was a natural thing to wonder about - well, everything in the modern world. Even not knowing his origins, Atem had been locked in the Puzzle for a very long time. But eventually he had come to accept that nearly everything was the work of modern-day wizards, most of them wielding lightning (‘electricity’ Yuugi would say) like minor gods, and that was how everything got done and that was fine. It was too overwhelming to consider and understand all the modern creations.
Cell phones were no exception. Some kind of cordless telephone that could work anywhere, or nearly so. Atem spent a few moments figuring out which button did what so he didn’t accidentally erase the message before reading it, and after some fiddling he opened the message.
Get to 10-4. You have 60 minutes. Fail, and face Erasure. -Reaper’s Game
“Ten-Four …” Atem frowned, looking up and down the busy street. Where was Ten-Four? Before he could go to ask someone, he felt a searing pain in his hand. Grimacing, Atem looked at his palm; the numbers 60:00 were branded there.
59:59
59:58
59:57
His palm was branded with a timer.
Atem grit his teeth and twisted around. A couple of girls were giggling nearby, dressed in school uniforms. “Excuse me, where is Ten-Four?” he asked politely.
The girls ignored him, or possibly didn’t hear him. Atem scowled. “Excuse me,” he said louder, but again the girls paid no attention, looking at their watches.
“Oh, we’re going to be late!”
“Let’s hurry!”
They turned to Atem and walked through him, hiking their backpacks higher on their shoulders.
Atem blinked at the discovery that he was immaterial. But I can feel my body … it’s the same as when I’m with Aibou … Still, after his initial shock he was no longer concerned. He could see the world but it could not see him; that was nothing new.
His wondering was cut short when he saw what looked like a large frog sitting on the curb, considering him.
If Atem was playing Duel Monsters, this wouldn’t have bothered him. He hadn’t seen this particular card before, but it did resemble the monsters projected by Kaiba’s Solid Vision technology. However, he wasn’t playing Duel Monsters.
The frog croaked and leapt at Atem.
Atem groped for his cards, dodging out of the way and escaping by the skin of his teeth. The Dark Games were supposed to be over - was this Reaper’s Game some kind of derivative of them!? He drew a card just as the frog leapt at him again. “Reverse card open! Mirror Force!”
Nothing happened. The frog landed on Atem’s back before leaping off again, shoving off with such strength it knocked Atem to the ground. He staggered to his feet with a gasp of pain, noticing another frog a few feet away, and ran.
He fled from the intersection without considering which direction he was going. He could see that there were more frogs now, glimpsing them between the masses of pedestrians that might as well have been immaterial to them, and they all gave chase. How do I fight them!? Can I attack them physically? They are physical creatures, at least as much as I am. But getting that close seemed foolish. One, Atem could probably fight off properly with his fists and feet, but the several chasing him now? There was no way.
tbc
more to come.
~*~
for emeraldus - how about modern day D. Grayman boys meeting up with the Winchester boys?
Warning: Racial slurs, some swearing.
"This is completely illegal," Kanda griped.
"It's only illegal if you get a drink," Allen said absently, rubbing his hands together and blowing on cold fingers. "Besides, I didn't ask you to come."
That was true. It was Rinali who had asked that Kanda drive Allen tonight - to his job, which was surely not at this bar. And in all fairness he should have just left the kid here by himself. But the place looked seedy and the fight they'd had in the parking lot ended in a draw so here they were, because if Allen got himself killed Kanda was going to have to face Rinali at school the next day.
"As if you could handle yourself in a place like this," Kanda snapped.
Allen turned an icy glare on him. "I can handle myself better than you can," the 15-year-old retorted. He swung his gaze over the room and his eyes lit on a group of truckers in a corner; Allen visibly brightened. "Go, I dunno ... do your chemistry homework or something." Allen started to shoulder his way into the small crowd.
Kanda cursed under his breath and looked for something to do that would keep Allen within eyesight. His gaze fell on the pool table; the idiots playing there weren't terribly savory themselves, but at least he wouldn't be sitting around looking completely out of place without a drink. It was bad enough as it was, wearing his collared shirt and black sweater in a poorly-lit building filled with leather jackets.
He took a pool cue off the wall and stood by the table as if he'd always been there. Three of the men hogging the table were unshaven and smelled bad and might have doubled as football linemen if they weren't so incredibly drunk they were swaying on their feet. Kanda snorted his disgust. He could take any of them. Even the beansprout could take any of them, he thought, and amended that with while they were this drunk.
The last man at the table was a good bit shorter, clean-shaven, and hiding a smirk in his jacket every time he knocked a ball in. "Shit, lucky shot," he gasped in mock-surprise.
"Damn, kid, you got some beginner's luck," one trucker slurred, pulling a twenty out of his pocket. "You hustlin' us?"
"What's hustling?" the younger man asked, all innocence.
Kanda sneered at the man's lie. At a collective shout of surprise, he looked away from the table to the huddle of men Allen had shoved his way into. A shock of white-blond hair was hunched over a pile of cards, and as if sensing the gaze, Allen looked up and flashed a brillant smile at Kanda. "Just lucky, I guess," he said loud enough for Kanda to hear.
Allen was hustling the poker players. Also probably cheating the pants off of them. Kanda cursed aloud, and abruptly he was the new center of attention at pool table.
"Whaddaya want, chink?" one trucker asked. Kanda hissed, grabbed his pool cue, and took two seconds to think about the consequences of killing this man with a stick of wood before the pool-hustling man put a hand on the offender's chest. "Woah, woah, come on, man. It's obviously his first time here. You got a problem with him being Chinese?"
"I'm Japanese," Kanda snapped.
"Japanese, then," the man said smoothly, not looking at Kanda.
The trucker considered this with glazed eyes until the man shoved a ten into his hand. "Go buy yourself a drink, okay?" He pushed the trucker off towards the bar before collecting his money off the table, waving the other truckers off, and rounding the table towards Kanda. "Hey, take a walk with me," the man said, going to throw his arm around Kanda's shoulders.
Kanda shrugged him off and spun to face him. "What."
"Woah, geez, I just saved you a fight back there. I still have money to make, can't have you breaking the pool table," the man said. He eyed Kanda up and down and smirked, possibly at a private joke. "What's a kid like you doing in here, anyway? You look like you should be in study hall."
"Stay out of my business."
The man snorted. "Let me guess: somebody dragged you here."
Kanda said nothing.
"Look, kid--"
"Call me that again," Kanda started, and the man put his hands up.
"Okay, geez. Look, my name's Dean. What's yours?" He stuck out his right hand.
Kanda looked at his hand with a flat stare. "I don't shake hands with crooks." Dean actually laughed at that one. Kanda wanted to punch someone. "Only a drunk idiot would fall for your act."
"Yeah, I can see you're not drunk or an idiot," Dean noted. "I saw you come in with that kid with the bleached hair earlier. He's hustling the poker game, isn't he?" Kanda didn't answer, which was apparently answer enough. "Look, you don't tell, I don't tell."
"I would like nothing more than to get kicked out of this shithole," Kanda informed him in a flat tone.
Dean nodded slowly. "You sound like somebody I know." He smirked again, briefly, glancing around the bar. "You wanna get kicked out? How about you slug the kid you came in with, and then you can both go home happy. Well, maybe not happy, but." His smile was something a little wry then. "Worked pretty well for my kid brother." Before Kanda could move away Dean slapped him on the back and started back towards the pool table. "Think about it!"
Kanda watched him go with a furious glare. But ten minutes later, the kicking-punching-even-hair-pulling-fucking-beansprout fight he had with Allen Walker was probably the most satisfying one of his life.
fin
~*~
for killyoudead - Heh, requesting a conclusion to YGO/TWEWY would be bad form, huh?
Beeedoobeedoodoobeeeedaaah
Atem woke up with his cheek against the pavement. The sound of hundreds of people walking and talking assaulted his ears; underneath their voices was the cheerful song of a crosswalk, alerting the pedestrians that it was safe to cross.
He sat up and got to his feet, stretching. The sensation of stiff muscles was slightly astounding, so rarely had he felt such a thing. He barely spared it a thought, though, looking at his surroundings with interest.
People milled in all directions, dressed in some of the most outrageous outfits on Earth. Above the large intersection hung an oversized projected screen, flashing advertisements 24 hours a day. I’m at the Scramble Crossing in Shibuya, he realized. Shibuya was one of Anzu’s favorite places to shop and Yuugi’s favorite place to get his hair styled. On his ‘date’ with Anzu some months ago, they had taken the short train ride here to meet. Domino Prefecture was technically not a part of Shibuya, but it might as well have been. Atem’s own familiarity with this part of Japan was perfunctory. He knew where the card shops were, in any case.
He doubted that would be of any help in this ‘Game’. Aibou, I will get you back, he promised mentally.
Atem jumped when something in his pants pocket started buzzing. He fumbled for it, belatedly recognizing it as a black cell phone after a moment of perplexed staring. He never owned one before, so it stood to reason it had been given to him for the sake of the Game. Yuugi had wanted one, begged for one, but Atem had only ever seen Anzu’s cell phone up close. After all, she was the only person in their group of friends that got one before-Ah, that was why Aibou wanted one. He closed his eyes and smiled before using a thumb to flip the phone open. 1 New Text Message, the screen read.
When Atem had awoken in the Puzzle, inside Yuugi’s mind, he had found that he shared large chunks of knowledge with what he thought, at the time, was another part of himself. Things like how the phone worked, how to speak a language he had never heard before the moment of his awakening, and how yen notes were counted had never presented a mystery for him. Until he had met Shadi, he had never considered that he might not be the same person as Yuugi. However, since that time more and more of Yuugi’s mind had become shut to him. When they became able to communicate with words at Duelist Kingdom, Atem could no longer simply ‘understand’ something by knowing what Yuugi knew. On the other hand, it was when awareness had fully awakened within his own mind and he had begun to wonder ‘why?’ and ‘how?’ about many things, such as why he was in the Puzzle and how he had gotten there.
‘How does this work?’ was a natural thing to wonder about - well, everything in the modern world. Even not knowing his origins, Atem had been locked in the Puzzle for a very long time. But eventually he had come to accept that nearly everything was the work of modern-day wizards, most of them wielding lightning (‘electricity’ Yuugi would say) like minor gods, and that was how everything got done and that was fine. It was too overwhelming to consider and understand all the modern creations.
Cell phones were no exception. Some kind of cordless telephone that could work anywhere, or nearly so. Atem spent a few moments figuring out which button did what so he didn’t accidentally erase the message before reading it, and after some fiddling he opened the message.
Get to 10-4. You have 60 minutes. Fail, and face Erasure. -Reaper’s Game
“Ten-Four …” Atem frowned, looking up and down the busy street. Where was Ten-Four? Before he could go to ask someone, he felt a searing pain in his hand. Grimacing, Atem looked at his palm; the numbers 60:00 were branded there.
59:59
59:58
59:57
His palm was branded with a timer.
Atem grit his teeth and twisted around. A couple of girls were giggling nearby, dressed in school uniforms. “Excuse me, where is Ten-Four?” he asked politely.
The girls ignored him, or possibly didn’t hear him. Atem scowled. “Excuse me,” he said louder, but again the girls paid no attention, looking at their watches.
“Oh, we’re going to be late!”
“Let’s hurry!”
They turned to Atem and walked through him, hiking their backpacks higher on their shoulders.
Atem blinked at the discovery that he was immaterial. But I can feel my body … it’s the same as when I’m with Aibou … Still, after his initial shock he was no longer concerned. He could see the world but it could not see him; that was nothing new.
His wondering was cut short when he saw what looked like a large frog sitting on the curb, considering him.
If Atem was playing Duel Monsters, this wouldn’t have bothered him. He hadn’t seen this particular card before, but it did resemble the monsters projected by Kaiba’s Solid Vision technology. However, he wasn’t playing Duel Monsters.
The frog croaked and leapt at Atem.
Atem groped for his cards, dodging out of the way and escaping by the skin of his teeth. The Dark Games were supposed to be over - was this Reaper’s Game some kind of derivative of them!? He drew a card just as the frog leapt at him again. “Reverse card open! Mirror Force!”
Nothing happened. The frog landed on Atem’s back before leaping off again, shoving off with such strength it knocked Atem to the ground. He staggered to his feet with a gasp of pain, noticing another frog a few feet away, and ran.
He fled from the intersection without considering which direction he was going. He could see that there were more frogs now, glimpsing them between the masses of pedestrians that might as well have been immaterial to them, and they all gave chase. How do I fight them!? Can I attack them physically? They are physical creatures, at least as much as I am. But getting that close seemed foolish. One, Atem could probably fight off properly with his fists and feet, but the several chasing him now? There was no way.
tbc
more to come.