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"Three"Written By: Switchblade003
Disclaimer: Shin Kidousenki New Mobile War Chronicle
Gundam Wing and all affiliated characters are property of Bandai,
Setsu Agency. Likewise, X-Men and its characters are owned by Marvel
Comics. I’m not taking any credit for these guys, and I’m
certainly not making a profit off of this. It’s actually costing
me money… Pairing(s): I’ll figure ‘em out later. Warning(s): Overtly religious tones ("In
a Switchblade fic??" Lol…); may offend some readers, and
if it does don’t read it! Slight Wufei-bastardization, but it
gets made up in the next chapter. Rating: NC-17 for violence, adult themes, language,
etc. Archive: www.wuffie.net, hopefully my own site
if I can get it up and running— Notes: This chapter is cool, I think. Oh, and
this is a plea for help: I need illustrations for my ficcies! If you
would like to draw pics for any of my stories, I’d appreciate
t (I can’t draw). Just e-mail me at LgclPrgrsn@aol.com, or IM
me. Thanks! Review Raves: Yay! People read my stories!! Three
The youth left the accusation hanging in the air, slamming
his fists against the thin mattress in frustration, rolling onto his
stomach restlessly. Maybe he could fall asleep with his face stuffed
into his pillow and suffocate? No, he’d always had the damnedest
luck. Duo shifted onto his side lazily and held his hand out over
the edge of the bunk, smiling as he focused on channeling his internal
energy to manifest itself into a rectangular shape in his hand which
resembled a standard playing card, and he flung the crimson, plasma-like
object into the air, shooting it down with a second ‘card,’
his eyes flashing a dark red as he did. The braided boy grinned wryly. Trowa may have gotten the psychic abilities, but he
got the nifty weaponry. Duo had had his inherent talent of channeling, shaping,
and wielding energy for as long as he could remember. It had come
to him as naturally as walking and talking had. Trowa had discovered
his odd gifts as a child, as well. The quiet young man could read
thoughts at random intervals, sometimes even holding conversations
with Duo entirely in their heads. The most remarkable aspect of the
older paramedic was his ability to change physical forms. Trowa could,
at will, transform himself into a massive, snowy-white tiger, stripes
and all. In fact, the first time that he’d done it they had been
kids, and the sight of the creature—it had taken the form of
a cub at the time—had scared Duo so badly that the American had
avoided his friend for nearly a week. Trowa himself hadn’t known
quite what to make of it, but they had decided to keep it a secret. No one knew about Duo’s seemingly superhuman abilities,
or Trowa’s, but that didn’t change the fact that the braided
boy was utterly miserable with what he was. It scared the hell out
of him, the idea of someone finding out. He had once known a boy with
‘powers’ back in high school, and he’d gotten caught.
The memory of what had happened to him sent a chill down Duo’s
spine. His abilities were certainly no ‘gift;’ they were
a cruse, and a damnable one, at that. Trowa seemed comfortable enough
with his own powers… But then again, the youth never spoke of
them. Duo bolted up in bed. He needed to get out, walk around,
something… Snagging his trench coat from the end of the bunk, the
violet-eyed young man trudged out of the station, braid trailing warily
behind him as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and made his way
out onto the sidewalks of the Old Towne district of New York City.
It was almost December, and the stores were brimming with customers
searching valiantly for the perfects gifts for their friends and family. Christmas. A smile finally tugging at the American’s lips,
Duo headed down the crowded sidewalks towards the core of the merry
chaos. He hadn’t thought about shopping, yet. He didn’t
have many people to worry about: really only Trowa Catherine, and
the guys at the station. But He’d always loved the unadulterated
curiosity on his best friend’s face as he snooped and prowled
under the base of the tree on Christmas morning, trying futilely to
decipher the contents of the boxes upon which Duo had scrawled his
name in black Sharpie marker. That alone was definitely wroth the
hustle and bustle of the commercial holiday season. With a much more jovial mood dominating the brunette’s
mind, Duo gazed about as he walked, squinting through the tasteful
glare of Christmas lights, around the decorative wreaths and at the
store windows, absently mulling over his options. The cool night air
whipped through the trees, blowing fallen leaves around the feet of
the pedestrians, bringing the distant melodies of carolers to the
youth’s ears, and as he reached up a gloved hand to brush stubborn
chestnut-brown bangs from his eyes he collided with something that
had been moving at a rapid velocity. Duo found himself flat on his ass on the ground from
the force of impact, and he winced, looking over at the person who
had so carelessly run him down, but the curse that he had planned
died in his throat. A foot away from him, crouched low as he examined
the scrapes on his palm, a young man no older than himself looked
up with fierce obsidian eyes, and the raw energy that flashed shockingly
blue through them startled Duo. The oriental youth stood gracefully
to his full height, and—not bothering with apologies—stalked
briskly off in the direction that the medic had come from. The violet-eyed male scoffed, his almost flawless balance
allowing him to get to his feet, and he brushed debris from his coat,
craning his head over his shoulder to ensure that the large white
cross sewn to the back had been spared significant damage. I wonder
why my kick-boxing reflexes didn’t kick in, he frowned. I guess
I should practice more often… He gazed briefly after the boy.
"Jerk," he muttered before continuing towards his destination.
It was grinches like that guy that took all of the fun out of the
holiday season, Duo thought absently. A nagging voice in the back of the American’s mind
reminded him of that spark of power in those ice-cold onyx eyes, but
he shook it off. He had more pleasant things to worry about. +++ TBC. Chapter 4 |
