archive: DHML and HB, if she wants it. anywhere else: ask and ye shall
receive.

warnings: 'nother AU. popped out of me braincase, i swear. *dark* duo. bit
of 2 + 1, basically du-chan's checking heero out. ^_^

disclaimers: this is getting old. ::grumbles:: go bug kyuu-chan to tell you.

[hair that twirls on fingertips so gently
hands that rest on jutting hips repenting
hurt that's not supposed to show and
tears that fall when no one knows
when you're trying hard to be your best,
could you be a little less?]
-madonna, what it feels like for a girl<

[dangerous games (tentative title)]
lady of the mer

[prologue]

Who am I?

I am the high king of the underworld.

I am the shadowmaster.

I am the flames of Hell.

I am the keeper of the dead.

I am the first king of the Shitennou[1].

I was once Duo Maxwell.

But now I am Onyx.

[*]

The Dark Kingdom is an ugly place.

I contemplated this as I sat in my throne of burnt, black skulls. Skulls of
animals, of monsters, of humans. From this high point, I could view all of
my kingdom. I could see all of my minions, working feverishly. They were
many-colored: some pink, some yellow, some striped. For lack of a better
name, we called them youma. They were preparing now, grabbing swords and
shields and arrows, to protect the front line against the Light Kingdom.

I surveyed their from my point high atop them.

I reiterate: the Dark Kingdom is an ugly place.

For one thing, it’s always damp. No matter where you go or what you do, the
humidity sticks to you like a cloak. It gathers on the stalagmites and drips
on passers-by. Sometimes, so much water gathers on them that it literally
rains. And the dankness always makes it somewhat cold: cool enough that you
need a mantle, but warm enough that the thing becomes stifling after five
minutes.

Then, there’s the light. It’s always dark here, hence the name. The most
light we ever receive is by way of the luminous lichen that stains the walls
and ceiling, and it’s a sickly lime-green at that. Not at all pleasant.
Thankfully, in my quarters I am generously provided with lanterns and
roaring fireplaces.

And then there’s the—

“Onyx-sama.”

I was stopped in mid-gripe.

“Onyx-sama,” the green youma repeated, somewhat annoyed. “We have captured
another slave. Graphite thought you might like him.” She reached behind her
and shoved a figure into my view. The figure stumbled and fell, falling to
his knees.

I came down from my vantage point and got a better look at the new slave
that my general had sent me. It was a boy, and he was clad in gauzy white
garments. From what I could see, Dark hair crowned his head in an
uncooperative mop and his skin was tanned from the sun, unlike my
ghostly-white hide. Muscles were tense and knotted, so he must’ve been a
soldier. I moved around him, surveying him with a critical eye.

“Hmmm, yes, he might do…” I said absently.

I squatted down in front of him and lifted his bent chin with my finger. A
finely chiseled face, jaw hardened with what seemed fury. He was of Oriental
origin, I discerned, the place from which our language was derived. His
shock of hair tumbled over one eye, half-hiding it from view. Ah, his eyes.
They were dark blue, hard as steel and just as unforgiving. And they snapped
with something unmistakable.

Spirit.

I grinned now, though it was more a sadistic bearing of teeth than a real
sign of pleasure.

The spirited ones were so much more amusing to break.

[end]

[1] ironically, the ‘four heavenly kings’

it popped out of nowhere! i *swear*! c&c craved like a duo and heero sundae.