40fandoms: Fandom 32
Apr. 12th, 2014 09:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tallulahgs[Title] On Their Way to an Adventure
[Fandom] Blake's 7/Baccano!
[Rating] PG for mention of death and corpses
[Notes/Summary] After Gauda Prime, Vila is rescued by a pair of familiar faces. (Sort of a counterpart tostill_lycoris's fic in the same fandom, if somewhat gloomier.)
Vila couldn't remember Isaac and Miria finding him.
He wanted to ask them what they'd even been doing on Gauda Prime, how the hell they'd managed not to get killed there. (When so many people stronger than them had -)
He wanted to ask them but for a long time he didn't know they were there, he kept seeing the others instead and sometimes he was glad because it meant they weren't dead and sometimes it was horrible because he knew he'd have to tell them that they were. And he hurt all over and he thought he kept blacking out but then he couldn't tell when he was waking up again. (He kept thinking he was buried under dead bodies and he knew he had to keep still and silent and not breathe but he was terrified if he kept that going for too long they'd burn him up with all the others -)
But then. But then the walls came back, dusty walls with boards nailed over gaps in them, and the sky through a tiny window covered by grubby cloth, and he was lying on musty blankets and he felt musty, his clothes and his head, and it was a pale-white day and everything was silent except Miria's voice, above him; “Isaac! Vila's awake!”
And then they were both leaning over him, chirpy as always but he thought he could see tiredness and relief under the surface (but everyone had stuff under the surface, didn't they?)
“We were worried!” Miria said.
“Very worried,” Isaac agreed, nodding sombrely.
“Didn't we always say that compromising the purity of thieving will lead to trouble?”
“Miria's quite right. Following too many career paths only causes problems. After all -” Isaac raised a finger - “How can you maintain your reputation? If you want to remain a master thief, you've got to practise.”
“Practise!”
“And never forget your true calling.”
“Never forget!”
“And most of all, avoid lying around for your friends to trip over in a wood. It's a health hazard! Plus it inhibits getaways.”
Vila was laughing, sort of, because you couldn't not when confronted with them and the way they were only slightly connected to the real world. He was laughing and then he was thinking how the two of them had never been connected to the real world, how they'd always come up with stupid schemes that should've got them killed but they'd always made it out and they'd always still been laughing and joking and how you knew no matter what happened they'd always be the two of them, arm in arm -
“Isaac,” he heard Miria say above him, “Why is Vila crying?”
“That's simple, Miria. He's embarrassed he's let down the noble ethos of thieving to this extent. We have to show him he's still welcome with us. We don't hold our friends' lack of judgement against them!”
“Awesome!” Miria squealed, and hugged Vila, but she did it gently, like she had at least remembered he had a barely-healed gunshot wound. He wondered if he should hate her for being just like she always had when everything else had fallen apart, but then he thought, well, what was the point? He didn't have enough friends left to start doing that kind of thing now.
[Fandom] Blake's 7/Baccano!
[Rating] PG for mention of death and corpses
[Notes/Summary] After Gauda Prime, Vila is rescued by a pair of familiar faces. (Sort of a counterpart to
still_lycoris's fic in the same fandom, if somewhat gloomier.)Vila couldn't remember Isaac and Miria finding him.
He wanted to ask them what they'd even been doing on Gauda Prime, how the hell they'd managed not to get killed there. (When so many people stronger than them had -)
He wanted to ask them but for a long time he didn't know they were there, he kept seeing the others instead and sometimes he was glad because it meant they weren't dead and sometimes it was horrible because he knew he'd have to tell them that they were. And he hurt all over and he thought he kept blacking out but then he couldn't tell when he was waking up again. (He kept thinking he was buried under dead bodies and he knew he had to keep still and silent and not breathe but he was terrified if he kept that going for too long they'd burn him up with all the others -)
But then. But then the walls came back, dusty walls with boards nailed over gaps in them, and the sky through a tiny window covered by grubby cloth, and he was lying on musty blankets and he felt musty, his clothes and his head, and it was a pale-white day and everything was silent except Miria's voice, above him; “Isaac! Vila's awake!”
And then they were both leaning over him, chirpy as always but he thought he could see tiredness and relief under the surface (but everyone had stuff under the surface, didn't they?)
“We were worried!” Miria said.
“Very worried,” Isaac agreed, nodding sombrely.
“Didn't we always say that compromising the purity of thieving will lead to trouble?”
“Miria's quite right. Following too many career paths only causes problems. After all -” Isaac raised a finger - “How can you maintain your reputation? If you want to remain a master thief, you've got to practise.”
“Practise!”
“And never forget your true calling.”
“Never forget!”
“And most of all, avoid lying around for your friends to trip over in a wood. It's a health hazard! Plus it inhibits getaways.”
Vila was laughing, sort of, because you couldn't not when confronted with them and the way they were only slightly connected to the real world. He was laughing and then he was thinking how the two of them had never been connected to the real world, how they'd always come up with stupid schemes that should've got them killed but they'd always made it out and they'd always still been laughing and joking and how you knew no matter what happened they'd always be the two of them, arm in arm -
“Isaac,” he heard Miria say above him, “Why is Vila crying?”
“That's simple, Miria. He's embarrassed he's let down the noble ethos of thieving to this extent. We have to show him he's still welcome with us. We don't hold our friends' lack of judgement against them!”
“Awesome!” Miria squealed, and hugged Vila, but she did it gently, like she had at least remembered he had a barely-healed gunshot wound. He wondered if he should hate her for being just like she always had when everything else had fallen apart, but then he thought, well, what was the point? He didn't have enough friends left to start doing that kind of thing now.
