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dethoratsTitle: Frayed Bonds
Rating: G
Pairing: None - Monkey D. Dragon fic
Word Count: 632
A/N: Rampant speculation and probable character assassination
“Old man…”
The words aren’t meant to be said aloud but they escape anyway into the chill air, a thin cloud of vapor briefly marking the ghost of the sound. Shrouded heads exchange glances but nothing further is said. Their leader always has his reasons and he likes to play the role of the inscrutable guru. On the hijacked signals, the image feed from Marineford wavers in and out as attacks rocket across the harbor. The audio feed, however, remains perfectly clear and the screams of dying and wounded men are loud, louder than anything save for Whitebeard and Sengoku and two others, one among the youngest there and another among the oldest. They’re used to the cacophony of battle, to the aural qualities of death in all its guises, but the cries of marines and pirates, the posturing and the truth underneath, hold the attention of these hardened men and women like little else can.
Their leader, beneath his green hood, scowls and a gust of bitter wind tugs at their coats and scarves. Despite the snow lying around them, there is a smell of thunder in the air. On the grainy screen, Sengoku gives the order they’ve all been waiting for and impossibly even further chaos erupts on the scene. The tiny figure of Monkey D. Luffy, one of the Supernovas and consumer of the rubber devil’s fruit, ricochets across the battlefield, giving and taking blows with a ferocity that seems strangely familiar. Whitebeard, bleeding still, is his opposite. An immovable object that strides forward only at a self-determined pace, and it’s little wonder that so many pirates had arrived to back him as he tackles the very bastion of marine power.
The young man kneeling on the execution platform is still alive and his eyes are dark with bitter emotion. The faintest spark of hope lingers but it is threatened by the rising flood of fear for his nakama and with the twisted black of self-recrimination. They don’t know him, this young man, but they know of him, of the opportunity they missed to recruit him before he fell sway to Whitebeard’s charisma and the call of the open sea. They knew his heritage too, well before Sengoku broadcast it to the world, and if the marines intend to end an age, they couldn’t have picked any more ideal figures than Roger’s son and his greatest rival. If the age of pirates is concluded, though, it will not be succeeded by an age of peace nor of the law of the World Government. They will see to that.
On screen, Monkey D. Luffy screams something and is answered, blocked once more from rescuing his brother. Sengoku, though, is starting to look worried and next to him a grizzled figure removes his jacket. Their leader tenses and thunder rumbles ominously to the west, iron-gray clouds roiling in the leaden sky. “Make the right choice, old man.”
This time the words are intentionally aloud, a fierceness in them that feels almost as if it should carry through the stolen uplink and be broadcast across the battlefield. Monkey D. Garp balls his fists and jumps into the fray and his battle cry suddenly deflates the figure in the green mantle. A lone flash of lightning flickers in the clouds but it doesn’t strike anything but bare ground, impotent in its distance.
The conflict rages on but Dragon turns his back on the scene of destruction. The outcome, no matter what it is, does not change his purpose. Ivankov’s present freedom, on the other hand, does, especially if his old ally survives and escapes. He calls for his closest advisers and they talk in low voices, hushed just enough to listen as they wait for the war that isn’t their own to end.
Rating: G
Pairing: None - Monkey D. Dragon fic
Word Count: 632
A/N: Rampant speculation and probable character assassination
“Old man…”
The words aren’t meant to be said aloud but they escape anyway into the chill air, a thin cloud of vapor briefly marking the ghost of the sound. Shrouded heads exchange glances but nothing further is said. Their leader always has his reasons and he likes to play the role of the inscrutable guru. On the hijacked signals, the image feed from Marineford wavers in and out as attacks rocket across the harbor. The audio feed, however, remains perfectly clear and the screams of dying and wounded men are loud, louder than anything save for Whitebeard and Sengoku and two others, one among the youngest there and another among the oldest. They’re used to the cacophony of battle, to the aural qualities of death in all its guises, but the cries of marines and pirates, the posturing and the truth underneath, hold the attention of these hardened men and women like little else can.
Their leader, beneath his green hood, scowls and a gust of bitter wind tugs at their coats and scarves. Despite the snow lying around them, there is a smell of thunder in the air. On the grainy screen, Sengoku gives the order they’ve all been waiting for and impossibly even further chaos erupts on the scene. The tiny figure of Monkey D. Luffy, one of the Supernovas and consumer of the rubber devil’s fruit, ricochets across the battlefield, giving and taking blows with a ferocity that seems strangely familiar. Whitebeard, bleeding still, is his opposite. An immovable object that strides forward only at a self-determined pace, and it’s little wonder that so many pirates had arrived to back him as he tackles the very bastion of marine power.
The young man kneeling on the execution platform is still alive and his eyes are dark with bitter emotion. The faintest spark of hope lingers but it is threatened by the rising flood of fear for his nakama and with the twisted black of self-recrimination. They don’t know him, this young man, but they know of him, of the opportunity they missed to recruit him before he fell sway to Whitebeard’s charisma and the call of the open sea. They knew his heritage too, well before Sengoku broadcast it to the world, and if the marines intend to end an age, they couldn’t have picked any more ideal figures than Roger’s son and his greatest rival. If the age of pirates is concluded, though, it will not be succeeded by an age of peace nor of the law of the World Government. They will see to that.
On screen, Monkey D. Luffy screams something and is answered, blocked once more from rescuing his brother. Sengoku, though, is starting to look worried and next to him a grizzled figure removes his jacket. Their leader tenses and thunder rumbles ominously to the west, iron-gray clouds roiling in the leaden sky. “Make the right choice, old man.”
This time the words are intentionally aloud, a fierceness in them that feels almost as if it should carry through the stolen uplink and be broadcast across the battlefield. Monkey D. Garp balls his fists and jumps into the fray and his battle cry suddenly deflates the figure in the green mantle. A lone flash of lightning flickers in the clouds but it doesn’t strike anything but bare ground, impotent in its distance.
The conflict rages on but Dragon turns his back on the scene of destruction. The outcome, no matter what it is, does not change his purpose. Ivankov’s present freedom, on the other hand, does, especially if his old ally survives and escapes. He calls for his closest advisers and they talk in low voices, hushed just enough to listen as they wait for the war that isn’t their own to end.
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Date: 2009-12-08 03:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-09 11:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-09 06:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-09 11:29 am (UTC)