Title: Reflection
Part: 1/?
Author: Foggynite
Rating: PG-13; mild swearing, shonen-ai
Pairing: Ryo/Rowen
Note: Takes place after Sage, Kento, and Sai have been captured by the Dynasty, but before Talpa's defeat. Later parts will take place after the series.
Disclaimer: crakbunny don't own, crakbunny just playin' in the dirt. no copyright infringement intended, unless you take into account the fact that all unauthorized fanworks are in and of themselves an infringement, but i'm doing this for the kicks and not for money, so no threat here )=
Additional Note: The song is "Reflection" by Tool from their "Lateralus" CD (good stuff). It is used without permission as well.
I have come curiously
Close to the end
Beneath my self-indulgent pitiful hole
Defeated, I conceded
Move closer
The clang of metal on metal, the grunt of impact, and harsh rasp as the ground protested the scrape of booted feet dragging across its surface. Deftly, one soldier after another was cut down by the armored figure, but still more surged forward like the swelling of a black and green and grey tide. The soldiers parted for each arrow, and when one of their number was struck down, two more fell into his place, swooping in with the inevitability of the ocean waves.
Sweat was beginning to drip into Rowan's eyes, stinging and warm and mixing with the salt of his tears as he tried feebly to blink the pain away without faltering in his assault. It felt like hours since he lost sight of Ryo and his legs burned with the stress of having to brace against the crumbling hills of the Netherworld.
His fingers were beginning to shake as he notched another arrow, but he couldn't pause for a second. His bow was most effective at long range fighting and if he let the swarm of soldiers get too close, he might easily be overpowered.
"Dammit!" He spat as his arrow went wide of its mark, harmlessly sailing over the heads of a dozen soldiers. They had to climb over the wreckage left by his previous Arrow Shock Waves, but the rubble barely slowed them down. The tide seemed unstoppable.
His breathing was labored, coming in harsh gasps as his battered ribs protested the strict stance he held his back at. The brief rest he and Ryo had agreed to before continuing had done little to ease the bruising from their first foray into enemy territory. The muscles along his right side twinged each time he reached back for another arrow and both his wrists had steady aches from cramped fingers.
A black gloved hand appeared around the rocky mounds beneath his perch. He kept the movement in his peripheral vision as he continued to fire at the horde below. Waiting until he had a clear shot, he let an arrow fly but rapidly moved on to his next target without waiting to watch the spirit dissipate.
It wasn't until he heard the scraping behind him that he realized he was nearly surrounded. The soldiers to his front had pushed close enough that, should he pause in firing to direct his attention behind him, they would be able converge on his position.
He had never asked to be a Ronin Warrior. He didn't have Sage and Ryo's training, or Kento's strength, or Sai's flexibility. All he had was a mystical bow he'd taught himself how to fire and his cunning. Outnumbered by at least two hundred to one and exhausted, neither weapon currently did him much good.
After he fired off one last arrow behind him, he hefted his bow in front of him like a staff and steeled himself for the first blow. At least he would go down fighting. Sorry, guys, I wasn't strong enough. . .
"Come and get me, rustbuckets," he jeered, dredging up enough energy to smirk arrogantly.
As the creaking ghost armors surrounded him, he launched himself forward with an angry yell and was swallowed by the tide.
**********
The desperate battle cry was easily discernible in the stillness of the Netherworld. Looking up sharply from his last kill, Ryo searched the horizon frantically for the azure blue of Strata. Littered around him were the empty shells of his foes, the metal husks mutilated just as the land lay scarred by deep gouges.
The burning rage of the Wildfire Armor faded, leaving behind a sharp ache as he realized there were no standing soldiers near him. They had congregated in the hills a football field's length to his left, intent on one point. The castle gates slowly began to open as a barge slowly floated out between them. It sliced through the air, chains clanking as it drew nearer to the focal point. Talpa wanted his last teammate, and had gone easy enough on Ryo so that he could witness the overlord's triumph before the soldiers turned to his own capture.
"Like hell you will," he growled as he set out at a breakneck speed across the ravaged territory. He wasn't going to fail another friend. He refused to let that happen.
They had engaged in battle close to the fortress perimeter, so the barge did not have far to travel on its sinister pursuit. Ryo pushed his legs hard, pounding toward the back of the mindless army with gritted teeth. The flare of violence and sheer black hate that blossomed in his chest burned the air from his lungs and whited out his vision.
He would not fail.
With a savage roar, he slammed into the troops, wielding his katanas in malevolent precision as he dissected one after another. They would pay, each and every one that had taken his brothers from him, that had ripped away the bond of blood and sweat and tears and thrown them in shackles, to be lifeless and frozen in that stillness he couldn't penetrate. It was because of these empty creatures that they risked their lives and even their souls to fight the venomous evil of the Dynasty again and again even though they were tired, battered, broken. His world was endangered, Mia and Yuli and Sage and Kento and Sai, and now they tried to take Rowan, but he refused, refused, refused to let that happen because he wasn't going to lose anyone else, wasn't going to let Talpa hurt them anymore. He would succeed even if he had to die to do it.
I may find comfort here
I may find peace within
The emptiness, come closer
It's calling me
When Ryo came back to himself- back to sanity and conscious thought- he found himself holding Rowan gently in his arms underneath a pier outside the fortress. There was sand beneath his knees as he leaned wearily against the rough wooden support beams. He didn't know how he got there. He didn't really care. The immediate area was dead silent, and that's all that mattered.
Shifting his legs around so that Rowan was half-lying on the sand, half- lying across his chest, Ryo made himself as comfortable as possible when sitting in full armor. Rowan stirred briefly, muttering feverishly, and Ryo shook him carefully, trying in vain to wake him. With his waning strength, he removed Strata's helmet and felt along his skull for knots or breaks. Thankfully, the worst of his head wounds was a gash on his forehead where the faceplate had dug into his skin. The fact that he wouldn't wake up worried Ryo, though, if only because they were in the heart of the Dynasty and Wildfire was too tired to drag another body besides his away from danger.
Releasing a slow breath, Ryo took stock of his own injuries and subsequently dismissed them one by one. It seemed the only thing to do was rest up a bit and wait for his friend to regain consciousness. Staring down, Ryo traced with a gloved finger the bruised crescents obvious under Rowan's dark blue lashes. They had both been pushing themselves hard the past week and his admiration of the archer had increased tenfold. They were two Ronins fighting for five, and he knew they would make it. They had to.
Before the other three Ronins had been taken, he and Rowan hadn't really known each other that well. They knew enough to be friends, but they weren't really close, not like he and Sage or Rowan and Kento were. It seemed like Kento was the only one on the team that knew Rowan at all, especially when it came to pre-Ronin life.
Not that Ryo had been terribly forthcoming about his own past, but all they knew of Rowan was that he was from Northeastern America. Whenever Ryo would ask him about his family or upbringing, he would just say, "'We are the sum of our experiences,' but that doesn't mean you can't subtract or multiply in your life either." Every time, Ryo just stared blankly and let the subject drop. Literature had never been one of his strong points, and he suspected Rowan had been quoting someone in there, but damned if he could figure who.
The bearer of Strata had a tendency to do that, just quote something out of the blue or ramble off some scientific theory like he expected everyone to know it. Ryo had taken it for conceit when they first met, but then he realized Rowan really did think everyone knew the things he did. Hanging out with the guys definitely cured him of that quick. Not that they were stupid or anything, but Rowan was in a genius class of his own. Ryo didn't mind listening to him ramble, though, because he loved to watch the way his face lit up when he was figuring out puzzle or coming up with improvements for a solution. He just seemed so . . . alive.
Ryo looked away from the youthful face of his companion, a slow blush burning his cheeks. Now was not the time nor the place to be dwelling on anything near where his mind was going. They were still in danger and he was way too tired to give it the attention it deserved.
As he leaned back, drifting in and out alertness, it occurred to him that the only time any of them could get physically close to the archer was when he was unconscious. His wry snort hurt his chest, so he closed his eyes, just to rest them for a minute. . .
Part: 1/?
Author: Foggynite
Rating: PG-13; mild swearing, shonen-ai
Pairing: Ryo/Rowen
Note: Takes place after Sage, Kento, and Sai have been captured by the Dynasty, but before Talpa's defeat. Later parts will take place after the series.
Disclaimer: crakbunny don't own, crakbunny just playin' in the dirt. no copyright infringement intended, unless you take into account the fact that all unauthorized fanworks are in and of themselves an infringement, but i'm doing this for the kicks and not for money, so no threat here )=
Additional Note: The song is "Reflection" by Tool from their "Lateralus" CD (good stuff). It is used without permission as well.
I have come curiously
Close to the end
Beneath my self-indulgent pitiful hole
Defeated, I conceded
Move closer
The clang of metal on metal, the grunt of impact, and harsh rasp as the ground protested the scrape of booted feet dragging across its surface. Deftly, one soldier after another was cut down by the armored figure, but still more surged forward like the swelling of a black and green and grey tide. The soldiers parted for each arrow, and when one of their number was struck down, two more fell into his place, swooping in with the inevitability of the ocean waves.
Sweat was beginning to drip into Rowan's eyes, stinging and warm and mixing with the salt of his tears as he tried feebly to blink the pain away without faltering in his assault. It felt like hours since he lost sight of Ryo and his legs burned with the stress of having to brace against the crumbling hills of the Netherworld.
His fingers were beginning to shake as he notched another arrow, but he couldn't pause for a second. His bow was most effective at long range fighting and if he let the swarm of soldiers get too close, he might easily be overpowered.
"Dammit!" He spat as his arrow went wide of its mark, harmlessly sailing over the heads of a dozen soldiers. They had to climb over the wreckage left by his previous Arrow Shock Waves, but the rubble barely slowed them down. The tide seemed unstoppable.
His breathing was labored, coming in harsh gasps as his battered ribs protested the strict stance he held his back at. The brief rest he and Ryo had agreed to before continuing had done little to ease the bruising from their first foray into enemy territory. The muscles along his right side twinged each time he reached back for another arrow and both his wrists had steady aches from cramped fingers.
A black gloved hand appeared around the rocky mounds beneath his perch. He kept the movement in his peripheral vision as he continued to fire at the horde below. Waiting until he had a clear shot, he let an arrow fly but rapidly moved on to his next target without waiting to watch the spirit dissipate.
It wasn't until he heard the scraping behind him that he realized he was nearly surrounded. The soldiers to his front had pushed close enough that, should he pause in firing to direct his attention behind him, they would be able converge on his position.
He had never asked to be a Ronin Warrior. He didn't have Sage and Ryo's training, or Kento's strength, or Sai's flexibility. All he had was a mystical bow he'd taught himself how to fire and his cunning. Outnumbered by at least two hundred to one and exhausted, neither weapon currently did him much good.
After he fired off one last arrow behind him, he hefted his bow in front of him like a staff and steeled himself for the first blow. At least he would go down fighting. Sorry, guys, I wasn't strong enough. . .
"Come and get me, rustbuckets," he jeered, dredging up enough energy to smirk arrogantly.
As the creaking ghost armors surrounded him, he launched himself forward with an angry yell and was swallowed by the tide.
**********
The desperate battle cry was easily discernible in the stillness of the Netherworld. Looking up sharply from his last kill, Ryo searched the horizon frantically for the azure blue of Strata. Littered around him were the empty shells of his foes, the metal husks mutilated just as the land lay scarred by deep gouges.
The burning rage of the Wildfire Armor faded, leaving behind a sharp ache as he realized there were no standing soldiers near him. They had congregated in the hills a football field's length to his left, intent on one point. The castle gates slowly began to open as a barge slowly floated out between them. It sliced through the air, chains clanking as it drew nearer to the focal point. Talpa wanted his last teammate, and had gone easy enough on Ryo so that he could witness the overlord's triumph before the soldiers turned to his own capture.
"Like hell you will," he growled as he set out at a breakneck speed across the ravaged territory. He wasn't going to fail another friend. He refused to let that happen.
They had engaged in battle close to the fortress perimeter, so the barge did not have far to travel on its sinister pursuit. Ryo pushed his legs hard, pounding toward the back of the mindless army with gritted teeth. The flare of violence and sheer black hate that blossomed in his chest burned the air from his lungs and whited out his vision.
He would not fail.
With a savage roar, he slammed into the troops, wielding his katanas in malevolent precision as he dissected one after another. They would pay, each and every one that had taken his brothers from him, that had ripped away the bond of blood and sweat and tears and thrown them in shackles, to be lifeless and frozen in that stillness he couldn't penetrate. It was because of these empty creatures that they risked their lives and even their souls to fight the venomous evil of the Dynasty again and again even though they were tired, battered, broken. His world was endangered, Mia and Yuli and Sage and Kento and Sai, and now they tried to take Rowan, but he refused, refused, refused to let that happen because he wasn't going to lose anyone else, wasn't going to let Talpa hurt them anymore. He would succeed even if he had to die to do it.
I may find comfort here
I may find peace within
The emptiness, come closer
It's calling me
When Ryo came back to himself- back to sanity and conscious thought- he found himself holding Rowan gently in his arms underneath a pier outside the fortress. There was sand beneath his knees as he leaned wearily against the rough wooden support beams. He didn't know how he got there. He didn't really care. The immediate area was dead silent, and that's all that mattered.
Shifting his legs around so that Rowan was half-lying on the sand, half- lying across his chest, Ryo made himself as comfortable as possible when sitting in full armor. Rowan stirred briefly, muttering feverishly, and Ryo shook him carefully, trying in vain to wake him. With his waning strength, he removed Strata's helmet and felt along his skull for knots or breaks. Thankfully, the worst of his head wounds was a gash on his forehead where the faceplate had dug into his skin. The fact that he wouldn't wake up worried Ryo, though, if only because they were in the heart of the Dynasty and Wildfire was too tired to drag another body besides his away from danger.
Releasing a slow breath, Ryo took stock of his own injuries and subsequently dismissed them one by one. It seemed the only thing to do was rest up a bit and wait for his friend to regain consciousness. Staring down, Ryo traced with a gloved finger the bruised crescents obvious under Rowan's dark blue lashes. They had both been pushing themselves hard the past week and his admiration of the archer had increased tenfold. They were two Ronins fighting for five, and he knew they would make it. They had to.
Before the other three Ronins had been taken, he and Rowan hadn't really known each other that well. They knew enough to be friends, but they weren't really close, not like he and Sage or Rowan and Kento were. It seemed like Kento was the only one on the team that knew Rowan at all, especially when it came to pre-Ronin life.
Not that Ryo had been terribly forthcoming about his own past, but all they knew of Rowan was that he was from Northeastern America. Whenever Ryo would ask him about his family or upbringing, he would just say, "'We are the sum of our experiences,' but that doesn't mean you can't subtract or multiply in your life either." Every time, Ryo just stared blankly and let the subject drop. Literature had never been one of his strong points, and he suspected Rowan had been quoting someone in there, but damned if he could figure who.
The bearer of Strata had a tendency to do that, just quote something out of the blue or ramble off some scientific theory like he expected everyone to know it. Ryo had taken it for conceit when they first met, but then he realized Rowan really did think everyone knew the things he did. Hanging out with the guys definitely cured him of that quick. Not that they were stupid or anything, but Rowan was in a genius class of his own. Ryo didn't mind listening to him ramble, though, because he loved to watch the way his face lit up when he was figuring out puzzle or coming up with improvements for a solution. He just seemed so . . . alive.
Ryo looked away from the youthful face of his companion, a slow blush burning his cheeks. Now was not the time nor the place to be dwelling on anything near where his mind was going. They were still in danger and he was way too tired to give it the attention it deserved.
As he leaned back, drifting in and out alertness, it occurred to him that the only time any of them could get physically close to the archer was when he was unconscious. His wry snort hurt his chest, so he closed his eyes, just to rest them for a minute. . .