Another 30_hugs theme.
Feb. 16th, 2008 11:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seikilosTitle: Message From Heaven
Fandom: Tales of Symphonia
Theme: # 26 - "I never say the truth."
Genre: ...Romantic genfic? I honestly dunno.
Rating: PG
Words: 855
Disclaimer: I don't own Tales of Symphonia.
Spoilers? For most of the game, really. If you've seen Welgaia, then you're probably okay, though.
Summary: Botta gets a message from heaven.
Author's Notes: I love this theme, because I could write just about anything with Yuan and it'd fit. Because I mean really. Also, is it just me, or are my fics and summaries getting seriously short?
Stars glittered overhead as Yuan strode through the metallic halls of Derris-Kharlan, their remote glow almost as bright as the shining sparks given off by his purple-pink wings.
As he walked by an angel floating about level with his head, she spoke in a dead voice, free of inflection. “Lord Yuan. Lord Yggdrasill wishes for me to remind you of your meeting in one hour.”
“I’ll be there,” he said shortly, not bothering to look up. There was no point—the eyes he would meet would be grey and empty.
“Yes, my lord,” she said and drifted off.
Yuan kept walking.
After a moment, he arrived at a computer terminal. There was an angel two booths down working at something, but Yuan knew that wasn’t a worry. Angels no longer had the imagination to be curious about what he was doing; the only ones he had to worry about were Kratos and Yggdrasill. He would be able to detect their approaching mana signatures as long as he didn’t get too caught up in his work.
Yuan plugged in a set of headphones before touching his fingers lightly over the keyboard, typing in the command to run the transmitter program. Transmitting from Derris-Kharlan was difficult; the signal tended to be weak and fuzzy. However, it was strong enough for Yuan to get his message across, and that was all that mattered.
The image of the man who appeared on the screen a few moments later was little more than a skin-toned blur with vague areas of dark brown representing hair and beard. When he spoke, his mouth was barely discernable in the blur. “Yuan. Can you hear me?”
Static a constant hiss in his ears, Yuan replied, “I can. Are you ready for my report?”
“Are you certain this can't wait until your return?” Botta asked instead of answering.
“I'll be fine. This is important, and the chances of me being caught are slim. The sooner we start preparing, the better.” He rubbed at his eyes, a gesture he would never make in front of anyone else. “We're falling behind, Botta. We need the extra time.”
It was impossible to discern the expression on Botta’s face due to the blurred screen, but Yuan could guess what it was. “. . . Very well.”
With no further conversation, Yuan began to give his report on the current conditions at Cruxis. A number of new warrior angels had been recruited and were in the process of being programmed; “trained” was not the most precise term for those beings without will. Yuan had also been called in to supervise the testing of a new, portable refresher some Desians had developed; he planned to steal one before he left the human ranch so he could dissect it back at the base.
These and several other developments were relayed quickly; despite what he had said to Botta, he didn't want to stay on the transmitter any longer than he had to.
At the end, he said, “That’s all that really needs to be said for now. I have a meeting with Yggdrasill in” —he glanced at the computer clock— “a bit more than half an hour. I may be some time if his lordship thinks I haven't been spending enough time working on Cruxis' projects again.” He smiled tightly.
“Understood.” Botta hesitated. “. . . I'm looking forward to your return.”
Yuan smiled faintly. “So am I. I'll call you into my office for a face-to-face meeting when we're done.” His tone changed slightly as he added, “You may need to stay late.”
“Understood,” Botta said again, and even despite the hiss in his ears, Yuan could hear the difference between the first time he had uttered that word and the second.
He felt a flicker of warmth—small, but he treasured it all the same; it was all but unknown in the city of angels. “Goodbye, Botta.”
“Goodbye.”
Yuan cut the transmission and removed the headphones. Depositing the headphones in his pants pocket, he started the chain of commands necessary to remove any trace of their transmission.
Upon finishing, he walked by the terminal where the angel was still working. Hearing Yuan arrive, he turned.
“Do you have any commands for me, Lord Yuan?”
He did not hesitate, looking straight into the angel's eyes. “Yes. Purge the conversation you overheard from your memory.”
Nothing looked back. “Yes, Lord Yuan. I will initiate the memory wipe as soon as possible. If that is all, may I return to my work?”
“You may.”
Yuan walked away, his thoughts not in “heaven” but far below. In a few hours at best and a few days at worst, he would be free to leave. He would distribute throughout the upper-level Renegades what he had learned from the meeting, as well as various other pieces of information. Then, at the end of the day, he would fall asleep in the arms of his lover, a man whose eyes were warm brown, not soulless grey, who ate and slept and breathed, a man who was certainly no angel.
He would have it no other way.
Fandom: Tales of Symphonia
Theme: # 26 - "I never say the truth."
Genre: ...Romantic genfic? I honestly dunno.
Rating: PG
Words: 855
Disclaimer: I don't own Tales of Symphonia.
Spoilers? For most of the game, really. If you've seen Welgaia, then you're probably okay, though.
Summary: Botta gets a message from heaven.
Author's Notes: I love this theme, because I could write just about anything with Yuan and it'd fit. Because I mean really. Also, is it just me, or are my fics and summaries getting seriously short?
Stars glittered overhead as Yuan strode through the metallic halls of Derris-Kharlan, their remote glow almost as bright as the shining sparks given off by his purple-pink wings.
As he walked by an angel floating about level with his head, she spoke in a dead voice, free of inflection. “Lord Yuan. Lord Yggdrasill wishes for me to remind you of your meeting in one hour.”
“I’ll be there,” he said shortly, not bothering to look up. There was no point—the eyes he would meet would be grey and empty.
“Yes, my lord,” she said and drifted off.
Yuan kept walking.
After a moment, he arrived at a computer terminal. There was an angel two booths down working at something, but Yuan knew that wasn’t a worry. Angels no longer had the imagination to be curious about what he was doing; the only ones he had to worry about were Kratos and Yggdrasill. He would be able to detect their approaching mana signatures as long as he didn’t get too caught up in his work.
Yuan plugged in a set of headphones before touching his fingers lightly over the keyboard, typing in the command to run the transmitter program. Transmitting from Derris-Kharlan was difficult; the signal tended to be weak and fuzzy. However, it was strong enough for Yuan to get his message across, and that was all that mattered.
The image of the man who appeared on the screen a few moments later was little more than a skin-toned blur with vague areas of dark brown representing hair and beard. When he spoke, his mouth was barely discernable in the blur. “Yuan. Can you hear me?”
Static a constant hiss in his ears, Yuan replied, “I can. Are you ready for my report?”
“Are you certain this can't wait until your return?” Botta asked instead of answering.
“I'll be fine. This is important, and the chances of me being caught are slim. The sooner we start preparing, the better.” He rubbed at his eyes, a gesture he would never make in front of anyone else. “We're falling behind, Botta. We need the extra time.”
It was impossible to discern the expression on Botta’s face due to the blurred screen, but Yuan could guess what it was. “. . . Very well.”
With no further conversation, Yuan began to give his report on the current conditions at Cruxis. A number of new warrior angels had been recruited and were in the process of being programmed; “trained” was not the most precise term for those beings without will. Yuan had also been called in to supervise the testing of a new, portable refresher some Desians had developed; he planned to steal one before he left the human ranch so he could dissect it back at the base.
These and several other developments were relayed quickly; despite what he had said to Botta, he didn't want to stay on the transmitter any longer than he had to.
At the end, he said, “That’s all that really needs to be said for now. I have a meeting with Yggdrasill in” —he glanced at the computer clock— “a bit more than half an hour. I may be some time if his lordship thinks I haven't been spending enough time working on Cruxis' projects again.” He smiled tightly.
“Understood.” Botta hesitated. “. . . I'm looking forward to your return.”
Yuan smiled faintly. “So am I. I'll call you into my office for a face-to-face meeting when we're done.” His tone changed slightly as he added, “You may need to stay late.”
“Understood,” Botta said again, and even despite the hiss in his ears, Yuan could hear the difference between the first time he had uttered that word and the second.
He felt a flicker of warmth—small, but he treasured it all the same; it was all but unknown in the city of angels. “Goodbye, Botta.”
“Goodbye.”
Yuan cut the transmission and removed the headphones. Depositing the headphones in his pants pocket, he started the chain of commands necessary to remove any trace of their transmission.
Upon finishing, he walked by the terminal where the angel was still working. Hearing Yuan arrive, he turned.
“Do you have any commands for me, Lord Yuan?”
He did not hesitate, looking straight into the angel's eyes. “Yes. Purge the conversation you overheard from your memory.”
Nothing looked back. “Yes, Lord Yuan. I will initiate the memory wipe as soon as possible. If that is all, may I return to my work?”
“You may.”
Yuan walked away, his thoughts not in “heaven” but far below. In a few hours at best and a few days at worst, he would be free to leave. He would distribute throughout the upper-level Renegades what he had learned from the meeting, as well as various other pieces of information. Then, at the end of the day, he would fall asleep in the arms of his lover, a man whose eyes were warm brown, not soulless grey, who ate and slept and breathed, a man who was certainly no angel.
He would have it no other way.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-02-17 03:36 am (UTC)Short but sweet. :Db
no subject
Date: 2008-02-17 03:47 am (UTC)Thank you. :Db
no subject
Date: 2008-02-21 05:09 am (UTC)What
Oh, and nice chapter. XD I don't know what to say about this other than I'm glad to see you writing again.