Prologue: November Rain
[Guns N' Roses: November Rain]
The faint pulse of engaged turbines ran their course through the weary steel walls of the ship, the distant drone of jets stifling anguished cries. The soft cries of a woman. The frightened, vulnerable, painful cries of a woman left trembling against the cold metal frame with nothing left of her face. Her facade shattered and drifting out of mind's eye along the stream of tears, leaving her with only gently fallen strands of violet to conceal the twisted and cruel agony within.
~*~
The same fair face, what seemed like eternities thereafter, was parched of tears though the stains still stung like a bitter slap. Faye took her leave from the wall, ignoring the constricting lump in her throat, the nausea that dwelled in the very pit of her gut, the burn of her bloodshot eyes, and mostly tried to set aside the torn remains of herself that she'd so rarely shown, this very situation being precisely why. A dull fury entreated the depths of her emerald orbs, a thousand thoughts plaguing her mind yet none of them staying long enough to be pondered over and/or reasoned with.
{ Why the hell did he have to be such a stubborn son of a bitch and--!! }
{ What the fuck is with his talking in circles!? }
{...What the hell did I do that for!? }
The rest of readable thought ended there as a shadow was casted over her fragile frame. She flinched, the adumbration being none other than the wise, all knowing Jet Black. So what, he had heard her pour her heart and soul out to Spike? So what, he heard from his little bonzai room that Spike apparently didn't give two shits? So what, he and the rest of the damned planet heard her heart break wickedly and crumble into dust!? So the fuck what!? She could read his still silhouette and solemn silence like a book, and without giving him the courtesy of a passing glance for more than one reason, she broke nigh unto a run only to carelessly thrash open the aperture of the hangar.
"...Faye." Jet hesitated, fully aware that dealing with a haughty huntress in a highly volatile emotional state was one of the most delicate operations known to man-kind. "Don't you go do anything irrational! We're going there to make sure he's alright and that's IT!" He tried still to soften the fact that he's betraying Spike's wishes by convincing himself that it was the only morally sensical thing to do. His well chiseled, prosthetic arm nearly ripped off the door of the Hammerhead before allowing him entrance to the small vessel, awaiting the woman's revolt.
"Irrational!? IRRATIONAL!?" Her upper lip curled into a brutal snarl, she tore open the hatch of her trusty little mono-craft and threw herself into the pilot's seat, her slender neck still in the gap between hatch and hull and her head lashing in Jet's direction, narrowed eyes piercing through his gaze of almost genuine concern as daggers would a child's bare flesh. "Fine fucking time to start giving advice on being rational, eh Jet!?"
Jet retorted with a low snort of disgust, mostly at himself, and realized she was right. As much as he despised the thought, this beast of a woman was right. What in God's Glorious Hell was he thinking--letting Spike go off like that!? This went way past the boundaries of respect and leaked overwhelmingly into common sense.
He winced slightly at the crash the round portal of the Red Tail made against the rest of the dome when a long, thin, and still quivering arm slammed it closed. As much as she would have loathed him for it, he pitied her. In his line of business, women bawling and blubbering was an every day thing; whether it be to save their asses from prison or from loss of family. Yet nothing seemed to rival in the least what he had heard that day. He'd always known Faye had feelings somewhere underneath that tight little vinyl suit though she went well out of her way to hide them. But the wrench of pure, undetested agony in her sobs brought his own silent tears vivid in his eyes. The unkind dejavu of the whole `Don't know what you've got 'til it's gone` scenario all too damned familiar.
Nimble fingers manipulated the pad of ellusive buttons in the control panel. Each of her perfectly shaped, sanded, and glossed fingernails in a fierce blur; the alternate to her right thruster roaring to life in age long seconds. "Damn you!!" She hissed a coarse string of vulgarities through gritted teeth, violently forcing the steerings of the Red Tail foreward, and dissapearing into the pale mist of dawn. She raced each seemingly insignificant ray of light and just dared them to fuck with her this day.
"You bastard, Speigel! You'd better be alive and kicking when I get there or I'll..." Her breath stopped there.
It all stopped there.
Time stopped at the truncated end of her sentence.
Him not being alive was never an option until now.
Her breath caught in her chest, and wind released in emittance of a low growl as she jerked herself every direction humanly possible driven by each ounce of that passionate hatred she had left. Wrecklessly, the body of the ship weaved in and out of the cluttered buildings, its pilot blinded by her rage of tears alongside each refraction of new light that scorned her from the jeering sheets of mirrored glass the skyscrapers flaunted.
Intangibly having gained an upper hand against the tides of time, Faye immediately recognized the syndicate building. It could've been because of the elaborately carved granite pillars, and it could've been because she's just that effin good. One could also say that it just might have been the thick cloud of police crafts billowing over the broken crown of the structure that gave it away. Whatever the case, she was there, and an overbearing pain, though quick, shot through her veins and left her blood run frigid in its wake.
Unruly and in no mood for delay, police ships were knocked aside and conformed to her will whether they fancied the idea or not. Without the care enough to dismiss the engine, she forcefully flung her enire body against the hatch and stumbled out onto the red carpet. They met one another via the graceful toes of her boots and a few exquisite fingertips, immediately wary of the gathering syndicate members which corrupted the air.
{ittai nanio..!?} Before her mind could consciously think or speak anything, her body frantically shoved its way through the crowd. "SPIKE!!" {...please be alive, damn you. }
Her eyes were lit aflame with the familiar sting of tears as all that became visible through the mesh of stunned bystanders was a single, endearingly tacky, black shoe. His name, again, hoarsely passed through her lips. The drastic throb of her heart seared as it became ensnared in her temples, and she gave the man in front of her a final push aside. Her eyes, never at any age, and her mind, no matter how experienced, could've readied her for the horror that lay sprawled in all its own wretched glory over the staircase.
~*~
The dawn was unforgiving that morning, and all at once her vision deceived her with the most cunning of cold illusion in anything ever known before. All at once, the sight brought her to the floor with the heart she didn't think existed any longer now bleeding with a malicious generosity through vengeful tears. All at once. The sun illuminated Spike's still form, each ray of light dancing in affair with the verdant ridden locks and flawlessly accentuating the lifeless pale tinge of his skin.
Faye dropped to her knees beside him, using whatever willpower she had mustered up from that boundless finite source to keep herself from collapsing over him and drowning him with the sweet salt that burned down her cheeks. He was lain face down in a pool of his own relatively fresh blood, leaving all conscious train of thought behind him, somewhere inbetween what he thought was Hell and Earth. She curled her trembling fingers around the material of his jacket, her chest paining and struggling to breathe, but failing miserably. Faye couldn't scream, she couldn't think, she couldn't force herself to inhale to continue crying, she just sat on her shins hunched over his body, and in the back of her mind, behind all the cruel memories of his smile that she just loved to hate and hated to love, trying desperately to remember how to breathe.
Jet, though not far behind her, had gotten there all too late. The mob of people were standing in shock and awe, still with the winding path that the huntress had made for herself between them. From the complete clashed grouping of syndicate members, those from the ISSP, and civilians alike, he knew what happened and stopped cold in his steps, turning his head away before his mind could register what he was staring at. Reluctantly, however, he raised his head again and opened the moist sapphire eyes, nearly gawking at what he saw. He expected Faye to be there, but nothing like in the state she was ; her nose was buried into the nape of Spike's neck and the endless rivers of fervent despair ran along the gentle curve of her nose, to the very tip, and graced his lifeless body.
... It always rained on Mars...
~*~Author's Note~*~
I can assure you, this is all but what it may seem. There will be twenty- six chapters in total, and an epilogue. Reviews are more than welcome, and if someone feels the urge to annoy me, please do so, I'm entirely too lazy to finish this story without being nagged.
{ ..... } = thoughts.
-Glossary- "Ittai nanio" - roughly translates to "What the hell!?"
[Guns N' Roses: November Rain]
The faint pulse of engaged turbines ran their course through the weary steel walls of the ship, the distant drone of jets stifling anguished cries. The soft cries of a woman. The frightened, vulnerable, painful cries of a woman left trembling against the cold metal frame with nothing left of her face. Her facade shattered and drifting out of mind's eye along the stream of tears, leaving her with only gently fallen strands of violet to conceal the twisted and cruel agony within.
~*~
The same fair face, what seemed like eternities thereafter, was parched of tears though the stains still stung like a bitter slap. Faye took her leave from the wall, ignoring the constricting lump in her throat, the nausea that dwelled in the very pit of her gut, the burn of her bloodshot eyes, and mostly tried to set aside the torn remains of herself that she'd so rarely shown, this very situation being precisely why. A dull fury entreated the depths of her emerald orbs, a thousand thoughts plaguing her mind yet none of them staying long enough to be pondered over and/or reasoned with.
{ Why the hell did he have to be such a stubborn son of a bitch and--!! }
{ What the fuck is with his talking in circles!? }
{...What the hell did I do that for!? }
The rest of readable thought ended there as a shadow was casted over her fragile frame. She flinched, the adumbration being none other than the wise, all knowing Jet Black. So what, he had heard her pour her heart and soul out to Spike? So what, he heard from his little bonzai room that Spike apparently didn't give two shits? So what, he and the rest of the damned planet heard her heart break wickedly and crumble into dust!? So the fuck what!? She could read his still silhouette and solemn silence like a book, and without giving him the courtesy of a passing glance for more than one reason, she broke nigh unto a run only to carelessly thrash open the aperture of the hangar.
"...Faye." Jet hesitated, fully aware that dealing with a haughty huntress in a highly volatile emotional state was one of the most delicate operations known to man-kind. "Don't you go do anything irrational! We're going there to make sure he's alright and that's IT!" He tried still to soften the fact that he's betraying Spike's wishes by convincing himself that it was the only morally sensical thing to do. His well chiseled, prosthetic arm nearly ripped off the door of the Hammerhead before allowing him entrance to the small vessel, awaiting the woman's revolt.
"Irrational!? IRRATIONAL!?" Her upper lip curled into a brutal snarl, she tore open the hatch of her trusty little mono-craft and threw herself into the pilot's seat, her slender neck still in the gap between hatch and hull and her head lashing in Jet's direction, narrowed eyes piercing through his gaze of almost genuine concern as daggers would a child's bare flesh. "Fine fucking time to start giving advice on being rational, eh Jet!?"
Jet retorted with a low snort of disgust, mostly at himself, and realized she was right. As much as he despised the thought, this beast of a woman was right. What in God's Glorious Hell was he thinking--letting Spike go off like that!? This went way past the boundaries of respect and leaked overwhelmingly into common sense.
He winced slightly at the crash the round portal of the Red Tail made against the rest of the dome when a long, thin, and still quivering arm slammed it closed. As much as she would have loathed him for it, he pitied her. In his line of business, women bawling and blubbering was an every day thing; whether it be to save their asses from prison or from loss of family. Yet nothing seemed to rival in the least what he had heard that day. He'd always known Faye had feelings somewhere underneath that tight little vinyl suit though she went well out of her way to hide them. But the wrench of pure, undetested agony in her sobs brought his own silent tears vivid in his eyes. The unkind dejavu of the whole `Don't know what you've got 'til it's gone` scenario all too damned familiar.
Nimble fingers manipulated the pad of ellusive buttons in the control panel. Each of her perfectly shaped, sanded, and glossed fingernails in a fierce blur; the alternate to her right thruster roaring to life in age long seconds. "Damn you!!" She hissed a coarse string of vulgarities through gritted teeth, violently forcing the steerings of the Red Tail foreward, and dissapearing into the pale mist of dawn. She raced each seemingly insignificant ray of light and just dared them to fuck with her this day.
"You bastard, Speigel! You'd better be alive and kicking when I get there or I'll..." Her breath stopped there.
It all stopped there.
Time stopped at the truncated end of her sentence.
Him not being alive was never an option until now.
Her breath caught in her chest, and wind released in emittance of a low growl as she jerked herself every direction humanly possible driven by each ounce of that passionate hatred she had left. Wrecklessly, the body of the ship weaved in and out of the cluttered buildings, its pilot blinded by her rage of tears alongside each refraction of new light that scorned her from the jeering sheets of mirrored glass the skyscrapers flaunted.
Intangibly having gained an upper hand against the tides of time, Faye immediately recognized the syndicate building. It could've been because of the elaborately carved granite pillars, and it could've been because she's just that effin good. One could also say that it just might have been the thick cloud of police crafts billowing over the broken crown of the structure that gave it away. Whatever the case, she was there, and an overbearing pain, though quick, shot through her veins and left her blood run frigid in its wake.
Unruly and in no mood for delay, police ships were knocked aside and conformed to her will whether they fancied the idea or not. Without the care enough to dismiss the engine, she forcefully flung her enire body against the hatch and stumbled out onto the red carpet. They met one another via the graceful toes of her boots and a few exquisite fingertips, immediately wary of the gathering syndicate members which corrupted the air.
{ittai nanio..!?} Before her mind could consciously think or speak anything, her body frantically shoved its way through the crowd. "SPIKE!!" {...please be alive, damn you. }
Her eyes were lit aflame with the familiar sting of tears as all that became visible through the mesh of stunned bystanders was a single, endearingly tacky, black shoe. His name, again, hoarsely passed through her lips. The drastic throb of her heart seared as it became ensnared in her temples, and she gave the man in front of her a final push aside. Her eyes, never at any age, and her mind, no matter how experienced, could've readied her for the horror that lay sprawled in all its own wretched glory over the staircase.
~*~
The dawn was unforgiving that morning, and all at once her vision deceived her with the most cunning of cold illusion in anything ever known before. All at once, the sight brought her to the floor with the heart she didn't think existed any longer now bleeding with a malicious generosity through vengeful tears. All at once. The sun illuminated Spike's still form, each ray of light dancing in affair with the verdant ridden locks and flawlessly accentuating the lifeless pale tinge of his skin.
Faye dropped to her knees beside him, using whatever willpower she had mustered up from that boundless finite source to keep herself from collapsing over him and drowning him with the sweet salt that burned down her cheeks. He was lain face down in a pool of his own relatively fresh blood, leaving all conscious train of thought behind him, somewhere inbetween what he thought was Hell and Earth. She curled her trembling fingers around the material of his jacket, her chest paining and struggling to breathe, but failing miserably. Faye couldn't scream, she couldn't think, she couldn't force herself to inhale to continue crying, she just sat on her shins hunched over his body, and in the back of her mind, behind all the cruel memories of his smile that she just loved to hate and hated to love, trying desperately to remember how to breathe.
Jet, though not far behind her, had gotten there all too late. The mob of people were standing in shock and awe, still with the winding path that the huntress had made for herself between them. From the complete clashed grouping of syndicate members, those from the ISSP, and civilians alike, he knew what happened and stopped cold in his steps, turning his head away before his mind could register what he was staring at. Reluctantly, however, he raised his head again and opened the moist sapphire eyes, nearly gawking at what he saw. He expected Faye to be there, but nothing like in the state she was ; her nose was buried into the nape of Spike's neck and the endless rivers of fervent despair ran along the gentle curve of her nose, to the very tip, and graced his lifeless body.
... It always rained on Mars...
~*~Author's Note~*~
I can assure you, this is all but what it may seem. There will be twenty- six chapters in total, and an epilogue. Reviews are more than welcome, and if someone feels the urge to annoy me, please do so, I'm entirely too lazy to finish this story without being nagged.
{ ..... } = thoughts.
-Glossary- "Ittai nanio" - roughly translates to "What the hell!?"