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almondinflowerOn the Night Before Birth
Characters: Lal Mirch, Viper, Verde, Skull, Reborn
Wordcount: 800
Summary: Gen fic. On the night before their curse is placed on them, five of the Arcobaleno gather together, and discuss their future lives.
Notes: Two disclaimers should be made. First, I have no idea how to write Lal Mirch. Second, my sense of the KHR backstory timeline is extremely screwy. If there are obvious canon mistakes, I WOULD LOVE YOU FOR POINTING THEM OUT.
It was the last night of her life. She had spent the last few weeks putting it in order – giving away clothes that would no longer fit, changing passports and identification, saying goodbye to old friends. There was surprisingly little to be done – but such was to be expected of the kind of life she'd led.
Last Friday some of her old students had thrown her a farewell party, which was the last time she'd seen Colonello. Since then she'd taken care to make sure their paths didn't cross again. Seeing him weakened her resolve, which was futile and dangerous. The only road such a meeting would lead to was despair.
She'd thought the others would have other things to be doing tonight, friends and lovers to be passing time with – but maybe they didn't. Maybe they'd led lives as simple and disconnected as hers had been. Maybe like her, they thought that a clean break would be the best. For whatever reason, there were five of them gathered here in this room, drinking alcohol and watching TV, browsing through newspapers, doing whatever relaxed them best.
It was not a comfortable atmosphere – inevitable when you have five professional killers gathered in one space – and yet, it was not awkward. There were things that could be said here that you would not normally say to mere colleagues and fellow mafiosi. Lal Mirch had a strong sense of their all being strikingly similar in many ways. In these people she could see her own genius, her own isolation and unbending resolution.
Then again, they'd been chosen for this, after all.
Skull was the most talkative of them all, ruminating on the past verbosely. Most of it wouldn't have been very interesting if it hadn't been so familiar to her – battles, mafia deals and politics and betrayals, military tactics and weaponry. Skull rambled on at length even when he had nothing much of substance to say. Either he was comfortable enough with the present company to show his real personality, or he was simply nervous, trying to fill the silence.
Or maybe Skull was a little uneasy in his presence.
He was sitting in a corner of the sofa, hat drawn low across his brow, sipping a martini he'd made himself. So far he hadn't spoken once. It didn't match with what she'd been told about him, or what she'd seen during their limited acquaintance. The man, she'd been told, was whimsical, witty, charming, idiosyncratic. Not overly gregarious, but capable of being the life of the party as often as not.
Well, they certainly weren't seeing much of that tonight.
Skull paused for breath, and Verde asked, in his mild-mannered voice: “What do all of you plan to be doing? Afterwards?”
He himself planned to continue working on the boxes, he told them; he was confident that that there was still some way to make them become useful in battle. It was only a matter of finding the right key to it. “There're still a lot families interested in their development, so we should continue to have funding for the project for a while yet. But enough about me. What about the rest of you?”
Viper looked up from his copy of the Wall Street Journal. “I'm going to find a way to break the curse.”
Extended silence. Lal Mirch frowned; the thought was on everyone's minds, surely, but he was the first one with the audacity to speak it out loud.
“Of course,” Viper added, “I plan to be making more money as well.”
Verde nodded once, slowly. “And you, Lal? And Skull?”
“I will work with the Vongola,” she said. Sawada Iemitsu had already talked to her about joining his team. It was a a small, discreet group of professionals, and – more importantly – it had nobody she'd known or been connected to in her life up till now.
That was the best she could hope for.
“I'm going to get stronger,” Skull said, his voice excited from behind his mask. “I don't care about loyalties or money, but I'll work for anyone who can make me more powerful. First I'll see what I can do, then I'll work to make it even better.”
Lal marvelled at his tone, at the intensity of his emotions. He sounded almost eager about the future - about this transformation – this unnatural thing that was about to befall them.
But wasn't that true of all of them? They were all anticipating it a little bit, weren't they – even as they dreaded it?
Skull turned to look at the corner of the sofa. “And you. What do you plan to do after this?” he demanded.
The man who would be known as Reborn cocked his gun and smiled.
“I'm thinking of becoming a home tutor,” he said.
Characters: Lal Mirch, Viper, Verde, Skull, Reborn
Wordcount: 800
Summary: Gen fic. On the night before their curse is placed on them, five of the Arcobaleno gather together, and discuss their future lives.
Notes: Two disclaimers should be made. First, I have no idea how to write Lal Mirch. Second, my sense of the KHR backstory timeline is extremely screwy. If there are obvious canon mistakes, I WOULD LOVE YOU FOR POINTING THEM OUT.
It was the last night of her life. She had spent the last few weeks putting it in order – giving away clothes that would no longer fit, changing passports and identification, saying goodbye to old friends. There was surprisingly little to be done – but such was to be expected of the kind of life she'd led.
Last Friday some of her old students had thrown her a farewell party, which was the last time she'd seen Colonello. Since then she'd taken care to make sure their paths didn't cross again. Seeing him weakened her resolve, which was futile and dangerous. The only road such a meeting would lead to was despair.
She'd thought the others would have other things to be doing tonight, friends and lovers to be passing time with – but maybe they didn't. Maybe they'd led lives as simple and disconnected as hers had been. Maybe like her, they thought that a clean break would be the best. For whatever reason, there were five of them gathered here in this room, drinking alcohol and watching TV, browsing through newspapers, doing whatever relaxed them best.
It was not a comfortable atmosphere – inevitable when you have five professional killers gathered in one space – and yet, it was not awkward. There were things that could be said here that you would not normally say to mere colleagues and fellow mafiosi. Lal Mirch had a strong sense of their all being strikingly similar in many ways. In these people she could see her own genius, her own isolation and unbending resolution.
Then again, they'd been chosen for this, after all.
Skull was the most talkative of them all, ruminating on the past verbosely. Most of it wouldn't have been very interesting if it hadn't been so familiar to her – battles, mafia deals and politics and betrayals, military tactics and weaponry. Skull rambled on at length even when he had nothing much of substance to say. Either he was comfortable enough with the present company to show his real personality, or he was simply nervous, trying to fill the silence.
Or maybe Skull was a little uneasy in his presence.
He was sitting in a corner of the sofa, hat drawn low across his brow, sipping a martini he'd made himself. So far he hadn't spoken once. It didn't match with what she'd been told about him, or what she'd seen during their limited acquaintance. The man, she'd been told, was whimsical, witty, charming, idiosyncratic. Not overly gregarious, but capable of being the life of the party as often as not.
Well, they certainly weren't seeing much of that tonight.
Skull paused for breath, and Verde asked, in his mild-mannered voice: “What do all of you plan to be doing? Afterwards?”
He himself planned to continue working on the boxes, he told them; he was confident that that there was still some way to make them become useful in battle. It was only a matter of finding the right key to it. “There're still a lot families interested in their development, so we should continue to have funding for the project for a while yet. But enough about me. What about the rest of you?”
Viper looked up from his copy of the Wall Street Journal. “I'm going to find a way to break the curse.”
Extended silence. Lal Mirch frowned; the thought was on everyone's minds, surely, but he was the first one with the audacity to speak it out loud.
“Of course,” Viper added, “I plan to be making more money as well.”
Verde nodded once, slowly. “And you, Lal? And Skull?”
“I will work with the Vongola,” she said. Sawada Iemitsu had already talked to her about joining his team. It was a a small, discreet group of professionals, and – more importantly – it had nobody she'd known or been connected to in her life up till now.
That was the best she could hope for.
“I'm going to get stronger,” Skull said, his voice excited from behind his mask. “I don't care about loyalties or money, but I'll work for anyone who can make me more powerful. First I'll see what I can do, then I'll work to make it even better.”
Lal marvelled at his tone, at the intensity of his emotions. He sounded almost eager about the future - about this transformation – this unnatural thing that was about to befall them.
But wasn't that true of all of them? They were all anticipating it a little bit, weren't they – even as they dreaded it?
Skull turned to look at the corner of the sofa. “And you. What do you plan to do after this?” he demanded.
The man who would be known as Reborn cocked his gun and smiled.
“I'm thinking of becoming a home tutor,” he said.
