Coming Storm
May. 31st, 2021 06:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shinonFandom: Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance
Characters: Shinon
Word count: 500
Warnings: Pervasive crude language. (It's actually been interesting, this past Yahtzee set, writing 3/5 "dudes I think would cuss a lot if the games they were in weren't rated T," but having to come up with appropriate PATTERNS OF CUSSING for each. ...I mean, I had a good baseline idea for Shinon, but it's been a while. Anyway...)
Notes: GYWO yahtzee, "petrichor." I accidentally overwrote my initial draft of this, and so I wrote a second draft while drinking Bud Light in a marsh, and I hit 500 words exactly on my first go. I'm very impressed with myself. (Shinon's opinions on plants are not my own.)
It was raining the night of Greil's murder, too. All day it'd been humid as balls, and everything stank like leaf mold and those big ugly marsh flowers you get in the Gallian borderlands. (He remembers Rolf and Mist picking armloads of those flowers and chucking them at each other. He remembers saying loudly that this sinkhole smelled like wet cat, which for some reason pissed Titania off.) And then the wind changed, hot and smelling like lightning, and Greil went off and fucking died.
Southern Daein's a different place, but it doesn't matter that much. Fewer mosquitoes, more horseflies, you're getting bitten either way. From the shelter of the mess tent Shinon watches it piss down rain and absently slaps at whatever bug is trying to drill a hole in his neck. Maybe it already got him once - there's a smear of blood on his hand, between the splatter of legs and wings. He shakes it off. It's different here, but not that different. He's still getting paid to turn people into corpses, which is still what he's best at. He could still smell the rain coming long before it hit, before any of these chucklefucks even noticed the wall of cloud coming up over the horizon.
(True, he's getting paid less than he would like. He held out a respectable while, and then he got hungry.
The thought comes to him once: Less than Ike would've paid me.
He spits on the ground. Never in any goddamn lifetime, no matter what it comes to.)
So it's raining. So the fuck what. So he's halfway across the world. He tells himself, You can't think about this every time, and then, because he hates being told what to do, he tells himself So come stop me, asswipe. I'll do what I want. You see anyone else paying Greil the respect he deserves? Didn't think so.
"Murder" is the only way he can think of it. There had to be a trick. An ambush. Something. Greil wouldn't have lost a fair fight - and no, Shinon doesn't care about fairness for his own sake, you do what it takes to put the other guy in the ground - but if you had to follow somebody. It'd seem like naive bullshit coming from anyone else, but if you had to follow somebody, and he had that much blood on his hands but still had some fucking standards about it, the kind of crazy bastard who gave his axe a name like it didn't exist just to get smashed through people's spinal columns - always respected a surrender, went back to the base and hung that axe up and talked all reasonable - if somebody like that gave you a chance -
Well, people die. Shinon's not following anyone now. If any more of Daein's finest idiots crowd in under this awning, if one more motherfucker breathes on him right now, he might go out and get rained on for preference.
Or he might leave. Done it before.
Characters: Shinon
Word count: 500
Warnings: Pervasive crude language. (It's actually been interesting, this past Yahtzee set, writing 3/5 "dudes I think would cuss a lot if the games they were in weren't rated T," but having to come up with appropriate PATTERNS OF CUSSING for each. ...I mean, I had a good baseline idea for Shinon, but it's been a while. Anyway...)
Notes: GYWO yahtzee, "petrichor." I accidentally overwrote my initial draft of this, and so I wrote a second draft while drinking Bud Light in a marsh, and I hit 500 words exactly on my first go. I'm very impressed with myself. (Shinon's opinions on plants are not my own.)
It was raining the night of Greil's murder, too. All day it'd been humid as balls, and everything stank like leaf mold and those big ugly marsh flowers you get in the Gallian borderlands. (He remembers Rolf and Mist picking armloads of those flowers and chucking them at each other. He remembers saying loudly that this sinkhole smelled like wet cat, which for some reason pissed Titania off.) And then the wind changed, hot and smelling like lightning, and Greil went off and fucking died.
Southern Daein's a different place, but it doesn't matter that much. Fewer mosquitoes, more horseflies, you're getting bitten either way. From the shelter of the mess tent Shinon watches it piss down rain and absently slaps at whatever bug is trying to drill a hole in his neck. Maybe it already got him once - there's a smear of blood on his hand, between the splatter of legs and wings. He shakes it off. It's different here, but not that different. He's still getting paid to turn people into corpses, which is still what he's best at. He could still smell the rain coming long before it hit, before any of these chucklefucks even noticed the wall of cloud coming up over the horizon.
(True, he's getting paid less than he would like. He held out a respectable while, and then he got hungry.
The thought comes to him once: Less than Ike would've paid me.
He spits on the ground. Never in any goddamn lifetime, no matter what it comes to.)
So it's raining. So the fuck what. So he's halfway across the world. He tells himself, You can't think about this every time, and then, because he hates being told what to do, he tells himself So come stop me, asswipe. I'll do what I want. You see anyone else paying Greil the respect he deserves? Didn't think so.
"Murder" is the only way he can think of it. There had to be a trick. An ambush. Something. Greil wouldn't have lost a fair fight - and no, Shinon doesn't care about fairness for his own sake, you do what it takes to put the other guy in the ground - but if you had to follow somebody. It'd seem like naive bullshit coming from anyone else, but if you had to follow somebody, and he had that much blood on his hands but still had some fucking standards about it, the kind of crazy bastard who gave his axe a name like it didn't exist just to get smashed through people's spinal columns - always respected a surrender, went back to the base and hung that axe up and talked all reasonable - if somebody like that gave you a chance -
Well, people die. Shinon's not following anyone now. If any more of Daein's finest idiots crowd in under this awning, if one more motherfucker breathes on him right now, he might go out and get rained on for preference.
Or he might leave. Done it before.
no subject
Date: 2021-06-07 09:22 pm (UTC)god that's such a perfect writing-shinon setting.
the kind of crazy bastard who gave his axe a name like it didn't exist just to get smashed through people's spinal columns
! gosh i love your shinon voice, agree with your opinions wrt appropriate patterns of cussing, thank you for the shinon