Don't worry, he can still bathe in there with Douse (Golden Sun, Piers/Isaac, #25 - fence)
Title: Don't worry, he can still bathe in there with Douse. You know, if you were like. Worrying about his hygiene while he was wrongfully imprisoned.
Author: cherryflash
Pairing: Piers x Isaac (picard x robin)
Fandom: Golden Sun
Theme: #25 - fence
Disclaimer: I do not own Golden Sun, any of its characters, or uh. Anything, really. Yeaaah.
Table:
1. look over here
2. news; letter
3. jolt!
4. our distance and that person
5. "ano sa" ("hey, you know....")
6. the space between dream and reality
7. superstar
8. our own world
9. dash
10. #10
11. gardenia
12. in a good mood
13. excessive chain
14. radio-cassette player
15. perfect blue
16. invincible; unrivaled
17. kHz (kilohertz)
18. "say ahh...."*
19. red
20. the road home
21. violence; pillage/plunder; extortion
22. cradle
23. candy
24. good night
25. fence <- You are here! :D
26. if only I could make you mine
27. overflow
28. Wada Calcium CD3
29. the sound of waves
30. kiss
(I'm imagining that Isaac's party visited Piers before Felix's group did. I don't know. It may have been a dream. I never even finished the second game, ha ha. Left off after I got Isaac back, my job was complete. ;D )
They stare at you from the other side of the bars, fearful, watchful. They think you’re sleeping, or thinking, maybe rueful that you got yourself caught, maybe planning - because pirates are clever, fearful types, always planning - planning how to break out of this place? If they knew you were watching them, either out of the corner of your eye, or from underneath the bandana, or through slit-open eyes, they wouldn’t be watching anymore, they’d be scurrying back out their little hole or resuming their guard positions.
Guard positions. What a waste of effort - if they spent that energy elsewhere, maybe defending the village from the monsters, or real pirates, perhaps, well, that’d make both yours and their lives a bit less useless. You can think of a multitude of things you’d rather be doing - like getting your ship back, maybe, before monsters take over the whole thing and it floods and ruins the upholstery, or sitting down to a worthwhile meal, not this trash they keep shoving into your cell. You’ve told them - multiple times, actually - that as they weren’t planning on letting you go anytime in the next ten years, they might as well let you starve to death happily rather than eat their muck, but, like when you insist you are, in fact, not a pirate and they’re all being complete idiots, they ignore you and scamper away as quickly as possible.
Speaking of food - they’re late today. But what’s that, at the entrance - visitors? Maybe today’s the day they’ve given up keeping you hostage and plan on sacrificing you to appease their goddess or feed you to their sharks or something ridiculous. No, though, they’re travelers, and they seem to be talking to the guards outside. One of them - a boy, with a scarf - tries to step in, but that one fool whom you nipped at with a little Frost for sport stops him and jabbers away, panicked.
Oh? Looks like he’s coming in anyway. He’s a strange one - you’re staring right at him, and even though he doesn’t know about your ‘powers’, how you cause ‘strange things to happen’, you’d think he wouldn’t want to look a ‘criminal’ and a ‘pirate’ in the eye - but he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t look away, doesn’t react. He isn’t saying a word, or even giving a wave, or anything to acknowledge that you are, in fact, a person and not a figure in a doll museum - he just stares and looks you over.
“Sorry, better ask someone else to point you in the right direction - can’t leave our post - in there, that’s Piers, him a pirate - him’s dangerous, you want to tell your friend in there, does funny things with water, he’s attacked me, I know.”
The boy’s face inclines as he listens to the guard - his eyes narrows, very barely - but looks back at you again, and he’s definitely thinking hard now, you can tell. You cross your legs and raise your eyebrows at him, impudently, a bit. He follows your movements but he doesn’t respond, as his fingers curl around one of the bars that keep you in.
He’s a bit annoying now, actually - the attention’s a nice change, you suppose, from townspeople peeking in at you and averting their gazes, and from children who tiptoe in, holding their breath, as their friends cluster around the entrance to watch them complete the dare, only to run shrieking after you snap your jaws half-heartedly in their direction. But it would be nice if he would actually show that he knew you were there, and looking right back at him. Maybe you should be flattered at his unyielding interest in you - surely a few weeks of poor nutrition, wearing the same clothes, and not combing your hair has made you irresistibly attractive; small wonder he can’t take his eyes off you! You can’t help but to smile - your thoughts have been growing increasingly more sarcastic with each day you’re stuck in here.
The smile doesn’t go unnoticed by the boy, who’s been watching you so carefully - his eyes goes to yours, almost instantly, and you know he’s wondering what is so funny, because he knows - and you know he knows, now - that you have, in return, been staring at him this whole time…so whatever joke there is, it probably has something to do with him. His eyes wander down your face, and flick up to meet yours again.
You mock a kiss at him.
His head snaps back, his hands come away from the bars as if they burn, his eyes narrow even more. He opens his mouth, slightly, as if he wants to say something, a “What?” maybe. But he thinks better of it, and instead he takes a step back, away from the cell, and turns to walk outside, and you hear him say “We’re leaving” to his companions and call “We’re going, Ivan!” to someone out of sight, and after glancing into the torchlight behind him they walk away, quickly, to catch up with his pace, and you smile again and watch as the bars that fence you in from him and the outside obscure his vanishing figure.
You wonder when the next time something interesting is going to happen.
Yaaaaay something that isn't a scribble!
Author: cherryflash
Pairing: Piers x Isaac (picard x robin)
Fandom: Golden Sun
Theme: #25 - fence
Disclaimer: I do not own Golden Sun, any of its characters, or uh. Anything, really. Yeaaah.
Table:
1. look over here
2. news; letter
3. jolt!
4. our distance and that person
5. "ano sa" ("hey, you know....")
6. the space between dream and reality
7. superstar
8. our own world
9. dash
10. #10
11. gardenia
12. in a good mood
13. excessive chain
14. radio-cassette player
15. perfect blue
16. invincible; unrivaled
17. kHz (kilohertz)
18. "say ahh...."*
19. red
20. the road home
21. violence; pillage/plunder; extortion
22. cradle
23. candy
24. good night
25. fence <- You are here! :D
26. if only I could make you mine
27. overflow
28. Wada Calcium CD3
29. the sound of waves
30. kiss
(I'm imagining that Isaac's party visited Piers before Felix's group did. I don't know. It may have been a dream. I never even finished the second game, ha ha. Left off after I got Isaac back, my job was complete. ;D )
They stare at you from the other side of the bars, fearful, watchful. They think you’re sleeping, or thinking, maybe rueful that you got yourself caught, maybe planning - because pirates are clever, fearful types, always planning - planning how to break out of this place? If they knew you were watching them, either out of the corner of your eye, or from underneath the bandana, or through slit-open eyes, they wouldn’t be watching anymore, they’d be scurrying back out their little hole or resuming their guard positions.
Guard positions. What a waste of effort - if they spent that energy elsewhere, maybe defending the village from the monsters, or real pirates, perhaps, well, that’d make both yours and their lives a bit less useless. You can think of a multitude of things you’d rather be doing - like getting your ship back, maybe, before monsters take over the whole thing and it floods and ruins the upholstery, or sitting down to a worthwhile meal, not this trash they keep shoving into your cell. You’ve told them - multiple times, actually - that as they weren’t planning on letting you go anytime in the next ten years, they might as well let you starve to death happily rather than eat their muck, but, like when you insist you are, in fact, not a pirate and they’re all being complete idiots, they ignore you and scamper away as quickly as possible.
Speaking of food - they’re late today. But what’s that, at the entrance - visitors? Maybe today’s the day they’ve given up keeping you hostage and plan on sacrificing you to appease their goddess or feed you to their sharks or something ridiculous. No, though, they’re travelers, and they seem to be talking to the guards outside. One of them - a boy, with a scarf - tries to step in, but that one fool whom you nipped at with a little Frost for sport stops him and jabbers away, panicked.
Oh? Looks like he’s coming in anyway. He’s a strange one - you’re staring right at him, and even though he doesn’t know about your ‘powers’, how you cause ‘strange things to happen’, you’d think he wouldn’t want to look a ‘criminal’ and a ‘pirate’ in the eye - but he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t look away, doesn’t react. He isn’t saying a word, or even giving a wave, or anything to acknowledge that you are, in fact, a person and not a figure in a doll museum - he just stares and looks you over.
“Sorry, better ask someone else to point you in the right direction - can’t leave our post - in there, that’s Piers, him a pirate - him’s dangerous, you want to tell your friend in there, does funny things with water, he’s attacked me, I know.”
The boy’s face inclines as he listens to the guard - his eyes narrows, very barely - but looks back at you again, and he’s definitely thinking hard now, you can tell. You cross your legs and raise your eyebrows at him, impudently, a bit. He follows your movements but he doesn’t respond, as his fingers curl around one of the bars that keep you in.
He’s a bit annoying now, actually - the attention’s a nice change, you suppose, from townspeople peeking in at you and averting their gazes, and from children who tiptoe in, holding their breath, as their friends cluster around the entrance to watch them complete the dare, only to run shrieking after you snap your jaws half-heartedly in their direction. But it would be nice if he would actually show that he knew you were there, and looking right back at him. Maybe you should be flattered at his unyielding interest in you - surely a few weeks of poor nutrition, wearing the same clothes, and not combing your hair has made you irresistibly attractive; small wonder he can’t take his eyes off you! You can’t help but to smile - your thoughts have been growing increasingly more sarcastic with each day you’re stuck in here.
The smile doesn’t go unnoticed by the boy, who’s been watching you so carefully - his eyes goes to yours, almost instantly, and you know he’s wondering what is so funny, because he knows - and you know he knows, now - that you have, in return, been staring at him this whole time…so whatever joke there is, it probably has something to do with him. His eyes wander down your face, and flick up to meet yours again.
You mock a kiss at him.
His head snaps back, his hands come away from the bars as if they burn, his eyes narrow even more. He opens his mouth, slightly, as if he wants to say something, a “What?” maybe. But he thinks better of it, and instead he takes a step back, away from the cell, and turns to walk outside, and you hear him say “We’re leaving” to his companions and call “We’re going, Ivan!” to someone out of sight, and after glancing into the torchlight behind him they walk away, quickly, to catch up with his pace, and you smile again and watch as the bars that fence you in from him and the outside obscure his vanishing figure.
You wonder when the next time something interesting is going to happen.
Yaaaaay something that isn't a scribble!