A Ficcage Recycling Community

[Recycle] Untitled Fic

2008-01-12T08:08:13Z

I'm new here in this community, so yeah. If I did something wrong, please let me know sooner to later :)

Working title: Unititled Fic
Author: eriea
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Genre: Romance, Angst, the like.
Warnings: shounen-ai, maybe leaning towards yaoi, but nothing pass boys making out (at least for now).
Pairings: Yanagi/Kirihara.
General plotline/storyline: Exploring the relationship between Yanagi and Kirihara, from the beginning of their "senpai-kouhai" relationship, to friendship, to something more. How everything changed, and why it changed.
Author's notes: At the beginning of the story, it's going to be stated that Yanagi doesn't know the exact when, how, and why of their relationship. Afterward comes the series of snippets that explores his whole relationship to Kirihara, through his eyes.

There are five parts for now, and I was planning to expand them, go further into their relationship with the small snippets, but the muse died right before I could continue further.

Part 1:

If someone asked him, Yanagi, for the first time in his life, would not be able to answer the questions when, how, and why.

He might say that it started with the little tutoring or the extra swing practices after school that he helped Kirihara in. Maybe he'd say that it was all due to the fact that they were boys. There was unresolved tension and piqued curiosity hanging about that couldn't be helped, especially when the other person was dripping sweat all over the tennis court because of a match, or his lips were curled into an unequivocally adorable pout that made his lips too full and irresistible whenever there was an English word he didn't get. But no matter the reason, there was always that one missing jigsaw puzzle that Yanagi would never reach.

So he remained silent when someone asked.

---

Part 2:

When it actually started exactly was a mystery to all, even to the two of them. If Yanagi allowed himself to guess, then he would say that it was probably around the very first time Kirihara and Yukimura were called to the faculty's office. Yukimura easily persuaded the teachers not to drop Kirihara out of the tennis club just because of his failing English grades and promised to get him a competent tutor to be able to help him. Yanagi was chosen, obviously, and had been Kirihara's tutor ever since. He could have declined. He could have said that Jackal or Yagyuu, or even Niou, was better than he was, but he accepted without as much as a blink of an eye. Back then, he was still a little juvenile. He wanted to win the Nationals as badly as Yukimura and Sanada, so he helped the poor boy raise his grade. He was the jewel in Yukimura's crown and the latter could not afford any losses under any circumstances.

He would always come to Kirihara's house every Sunday afternoon, at half-past three, for a one-and-a-half-hour session of English tutoring. He would accept tea from Kirihara's mother and the blueberry muffins baked by Kirihara's sister (a sweet girl that Kirihara somehow despised a lot). Sometimes, tutoring was forgotten and he played tennis with Kirihara, even when it was late and dark. He never said anything, never complained when Kirihara suddenly decided to run away in the middle of a problem to grab his racket. Never said much when Kirihara asked him for a tennis match, just grabbed one of Kirihara's spare and ran behind him to a nearby tennis court, and played for hours.

More time with Kirihara came and went, just like the test scores that were of little importance to him but showed improvement and pride in Yanagi's eyes. After the assurance that Kirihara was still on the team, Yanagi was permitted to let go of his responsibility. However, Yanagi never stopped teaching him. Yukimura never said anything, just smiled at him, so he assumed that there was nothing wrong. He probably thought before that it was an extremely good idea to keep Kirihara well aware of English. He would continue to learn, then, and they won't have a problem regarding his grades.

It was the same since then. Yanagi help him with this, Yanagi teach him that, Yanagi do those… They were childish commands, where Kirihara would demand the attention of Yanagi to get him to come to his house and aide him with his studies, or ask for supervision whenever he felt like he needed more practice. He got so used to Yanagi's presence. Yanagi would never agree, but he would never decline either, so Kirihara always expected him to show, and Yanagi always did.

--

Part 3:

At school, there was nothing more than a teammate relationship, not even friends. Senpai-kouhai, maybe, but it was a more appropriate term to be awarded to Jackal, who had so diligently watched over Kirihara at every waking moment, just to make sure that the boy never stepped out of bounds. Yanagi rarely did that. Most of the time, he would ignore Kirihara crazy antics on and off the court. Maybe he'd reprimand him over a mistake or two, but most of the time, Sanada did all the honors. He would look away from the red eyes as he crushed his opponents during a practice game. Sometimes, he would glue his eyes on him, just to gather data, but he would look away again, because nothing was scarier than a fourteen-year-old boy bent upon murdering other teenagers.

Most of the time, Kirihara would just pass by him, in the hallways, in the cafeteria, in the school grounds, in the clubroom. Sometimes, he would nod, and there were times when he might flick him a casual greeting before walking away towards his friends. There are a few remembered moments where they talked, but that would only be because of tennis, English, or a request from Kirihara to pull Niou and Marui off his back (which, unfortunately, Yanagi never did, assuming that Kirihara could take care of himself). Maybe a casual mention of an everyday routine, but they lived totally different lives that there was practically nothing to talk about between them.

So how come, at one day in the library, when Yanagi really needed to finish an essay for his English Writing class, Kirihara suddenly sat down in front of him and started ranting about stupid girls that stalked him and Niou's pranks and how much he hated Sanada, did Yanagi stopped writing and just listened to him? Even he had no idea why. Then again, Kirihara's mere presence in a place that could have disrupted his 'reputation' was more than enough for Yanagi to question the sanity in the world. And they talked like normal friends. Which was rare, and did somehow unnerved Yanagi, though it didn't show. He tried to point out the hints to Kirihara, but he needed no further data analyzing to know that Kirihara didn't understand any underlying meanings in his sentences. Kirihara was a genius on and off the court, yes; he just had a very lousy memory, forgetting to use his own brain.

Half an hour later, the school bell rang, and they walked off to their next classes. Yanagi, being the kind senpai he was, accompanied Kirihara to the junior hallways. Kirihara still talked then, and Yanagi answered him in all the right moments. It was actually pleasant talking to someone outside of you comfort zone, and Kirihara was a nice person to talk to. After a wave of goodbye to his kouhai (where a lot of the other juniors gapped, because Kirihara had many senpai-tachi who loved accompanying him to class), he walked off towards his own classroom. He was late for two-point-twenty-seven seconds, but no one, not even the teacher, seemed to notice.

--

Part 4:

The moment Yanagi was well aware of Kirihara's more-than-friendly feelings for him, he didn't push away. In fact, he stayed closer to him, much closer, with clearly degrades all his thoughts of telling that young boy that there was no chance of then getting together because Yanagi wasn't like that. Which, of course, had been proven otherwise by the sudden stiffness between his legs if Kirihara passed by, the constant daydreaming of his muscular body, and sometimes, the wet sheets that he would find underneath him when he wakes up in the morning, due to heavy dreams of a certain second-year that he couldn't get off his mind.

He was still kept those embarrassing secrets to himself, though. Because, seriously, the label of being homosexual wasn't the most appealing, and most of the people in their school weren't the most accepting either, even if there was a law that prevented discrimination against the third sex (or something like that). He never complained on how he and Kirihara were merely dancing around each other in circles, but his temper had been tested more than enough times by Yukimura, who was as perceptive in real as he was in the tennis courts. Both knew how much Kirihara had grown to adore his senpai, and even Sanada can see that only Yanagi (and Yukimura) can appease Kirihara's impish behavior—not even Jackal could come close to that.

--

Part 5:

The first kiss together had been rough. If Yanagi had another choice of word, he would chose 'suicidal'. Yanagi almost tore off the younger boy's teeth by banging his own jaw into it, and Kirihara would have pulled out part of the skin on his neck if he didn't pull away instantly. Obviously, he was surprised, and his first reflex was to jerk Yanagi's neck out of his own Yanagi. The latter had expected this, because according to data, even in the more intimate of moments, Kirihara was never calm, always the fighter.

Kirihara was frozen for about a minute before he opened his mouth willingly, forcing his tongue around Yanagi, and battling with him for domination. His lips on Yanagi was like fire, burning and scorching the pink flesh of his lips with his harsh bites and nibbles that all Yanagi could do was groan in his mouth. Kirihara groaned, too, pushing himself to Yanagi, creating friction between their clothed bodies. Thoughts kept on slipping away, second by second, when Kirihara's hands actually went underneath his shirt and rubbed his hands along the skin, scorching his skin with only the

They stayed like that for what felt like hours until Yanagi stopped. He pulled away because he felt them, all of them—the hardness in Kirihara's shorts, his own erection brushing along his thigh, a scrambles of hands trying so desperately to rip his shirt open, the lust-filled eyes, the more-than-passionate kisses that almost engulfed his whole mind and made him lose control. He knew very well what Kirihara wanted – he wanted it, too, just as badly – but he pulled back.

And he didn't know what to say after he stopped such a good make-out session. That's was he just walked away with a polite apology and farewell, leaving Kirihara to form the conclusion in his somewhat dense head that he didn't want it at all.

--

I wish luck the to person who wants to claim this! If ever, please give me an update.

[Recycle] Untitled Plotbunny

2007-10-06T18:15:26Z

New to this community, so we'll see if I'm doing it right. This really is a brilliant community idea.

Working title: Untitled
Author: hikarineko
Fandom: D.Gray-man/Rurouni Kenshin crossover
Genre: action/adventure, gen, possibly some minor angst, I have no idea.
Warnings: violence? That’s the only thing I can think of…
Pairings: Kenshin/Kaoru… don’t really know other than that. It was leaning more towards a gen/action fic than anything so I was going for keeping canon pairings for Kenshin and not much for D.Gray-man since there are no official canon pairings yet in D.Gray, hinting aside.
General plotline/storyline: So I realized that the end of the Meiji Restoration took place in roughly 1869, and that Kenshin itself ends in roughly 1878-79. Given that D.Gray-man is said only to be set in a fictional end of the 19th century, and that according to D.Gray-man canon, Japan has been pretty much destroyed due to the Earl’s manipulations, I was curious as to what would have happened to the characters from Kenshin in such a situation. So, we have a semi-post-apocalyptic Kenshin fanfic with added in elements and characters from D.Gray-man. The only thing I really had set so far was that it’s set roughly 5-10 years post Kenshin canon. Cross came across Hiko at some point and warned him of what the Earl was doing in Japan. Hiko warned Kenshin, Kenshin and his companions fled Tokyo and they’ve been hiding from the Akuma hordes ever since. Other than that, they some how meet up with Aoshi, Misao, Saito and Soujiro (the only other characters from Kenshin I could think of having any chance against a level 1 Akuma) and manage to avoid all the nice level 2 and 3 Akuma who could probably destroy them anyway. Mostly this was just an excuse for Kenshin/D.Gray character interaction… because the idea of Cross meeting Hiko was just too good to pass up.
Author's notes: Really, none of this has been written. It’s a plot bunny that was too good to throw away, but that I actually had no real urge to write. Hence, why I give it up to interested parties. I was going mostly for in-character interaction in a post-apocalyptic setting (for the Kenshin characters) with the D.Gray-man cast. Obviously this involves tweaking both canons a little bit, but half the fun of the fic was to try and get the interaction with as much canon as possible. So really, anyone who’s interested can do whatever they want to with this.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

So yeah, feel free to do whatever you like to this. Just give me a heads up so I can read it. ^.^b

[Recycle] A plot bunny

2007-09-28T06:10:45Z

Got here by askerian and this community is awesome!

On the other side I have a plot bunny but I can't write if my life depended on it.

Working title:
Author:
Fandom: Naruto.
Genre: General, Humor
Warnings: Mentions of threesome.
Pairings: SakuNaruSai
General plotline/storyline: Naruto battles Konohamaru for his final test to become Hokage.
Author's notes: The basic idea I have is that Naruto decides to pass the title to Konohamaru in a battle, because that's the final test. As the battle grows, both are tired and Konohamaru just have enough chakra to defeat Naruto, so he uses Sexy no Jutsu, surprising Naruto with a threesome of Sakura, Sai and himself. He gets K.O and Konohamaru wins.

If there's anything wrong, please delete this post.

[Recycle-ish] A Few Fics

2007-09-27T04:32:12Z

I just want to say that I think this community is ingenius :). I'm not entirely sure if I doing this right, but I guess we'll see?

Working title: The Butterfly Effect
Author: / Princess Lightina
Fandom: Naruto
Genre: Drama, Suspense, Psychological
Warnings: AR, semi-fusion with The Butterfly Effect movie (obviously). Confusing beginning on purpose.
Pairings: Currently undecided, but possibly SasuSaku or NaruSaku. Possibly even gen... Guess that's why it's undecided :-p.
General plotline/storyline: Sakura discovers she has the ability to use a unique jutsu that can alter past events.
Author's notes: I started writing this story last November... and it's still on the prologue. I guess I'm not looking to have someone recycle this fic so much as I'm looking for some help with it's direction ^_^;. I have a lot of ideas, but there's one crucial plot point that needs to be worked out before this story can progress. Needless to say, I'm stuck.

( Prologue links back to my writing journal )

If this proposistion is unacceptable I'm more than willing to delete it.

cross-posted to fanficbunnies

Actual Recycling:

Working Title: Heero and Relena's Supposed Wedding
Author:

shafted_artist / Princess Lightina
Fandom: Gundam Wing
Genre: Humor/Romance
Warnings: Accidental!Yaoi, slight shounen-ai, sex, and, if not rewritten, bad writing and OOCness.
Pairings: 1xR, 2xH, 5+S, and one-sided (or is it?) 4+3. Also... 1x6 lolz.
General plotline/storyline: Complications arise when Heero's bacholar party is a little too successful.
Author's notes: Oh. My. God. I started writing this fic back in.... 2001? I have not touched it since probably 2002, but it's one of those fics that just needs to be finished and ~~completely re-written. Eighth grade writing, whut?~~ I got about four or five chapters in and for some reason or another just never finished it, which is sad if only because I never got to write the scene that inspired the whole fic :(. As I've kinda out grown the GW fandom I fear it may never be completed in my hands, but if someone would like to "recycle" it I would love to be apart of the process :).

( Table of Contents links back to my writing journal )

Working Title: Home Away From Home
Author: shafted_artist / Princess Lightina
Fandom: Digimon
Genre: Drama, Romance
Warnings: Original characters. Possible tense changes (hasn't been updated since 2003). Incomplete.
Pairings: Takari. One-sided DaKari. Future slight Takeru x/+ OC. Slight. And OCs x OCs.
General plotline/storyline: UPTakeru finally has the chance to get the girl of his dreams, Hikari, but then unexpectedly his parents are having Yamato and him move to America for one year with their father. During his time there, T.K. meets someone who makes him feel at home.
Author's notes: It's been years since I updated this fic, but I really did like it. I made it up to seven posted chapters and a few pages into the eigth before it just... died. In the seventh chapter I introduced original characters and I think I got scared of the main OC, who happened to be a girl named Erika, turning out to be a Mary-Sue if the fic progressed. There would be slight crushes on one another, but I intended to keep Takeru faithful to Hikari and Erika finally hooking up with her childhood crush.

Again, if anyone wanted take this on I would still love to be apart of the process :). I actually had notes for a sequel, lol.

( FFN link )

And though there are LOTS more, that's all for tonight :).

shafted_artist

[Recycle] Searching

2007-09-26T22:59:36Z

Working title: Searching
Author: artemisgoddess
Fandom: Death Note
Genre: Angst, Romance, Tragedy (?)
Warnings: Erm. Bad words, maybe BL?
Pairings: Intended Mello/Near
General plotline/storyline: A view of everything that happened to Mello in his life told in 2nd person. Only there was going to be some change or something, where Mello was going to see Near before he died I think, and it was going to be brilliant and angsty and so good, but I can't remember now ;;;
Author's notes: These are the notes I left for myself at the end of what I'd written so far:
Mello's return after fire w/ scar
Matt first introduced
Barges in on Near

So. Take it and adopt it? Make it into something more?

There are times in life when you cannot go on.

When things are just too much, the pressure's just too much to bear. When everyone around you is expecting things of you, when you're expecting things on you, but you always seem to fall short, just shy of your goal, your arm a little too short to reach.

When nothing makes you happy anymore. When your previous games with your friends of soccer and catch become meaningless, pointless, in comparison to the pain you feel. When your friends just leave you alone, figuring you'll get over it, not bothering to try to help.

When you think you're all alone, isolated, locked away in the dark corner of your mind, the darkness slicing though every single hope, every sing positive thought, leaving you with nothing, all hope decayed. When shapes loom out of the darkness at night; hallucinations, stemming from repressed desires and fears, resulting from the agony and indecision you feel within. When there's no point in living, anymore, really, as you get nothing from it anymore; you're just an empty shell, walking, waiting, wilting under the harsh sun.

And you know you can't go on. You just can't.

But you can hear your friends laughing outside in the halls, smiling and grinning as they go about their lives, and you put on a smile and go along with them, pretending their unseeing eyes don't pierce your heart. You do your best to keep up, but you can't falsify happiness with a burden like yours, and eventually, you fall behind. And they leave you there to rot.

You take to staying in your room for long periods at a time. You don black clothes, nothing extreme, with chains or eyeliner, but just enough to make you feel better, to give you a physcial sign that someone else could recognize as a cry for help. You study late into the night, wearing yourself out, making you waft through the days even more. It's all for naught, though, as you come in second place again and again, no matter how hard you try. It'll all for naught. All of it.

No one seems to realize how this eats you away inside. How your existance is meaningless, with you being number two, and how you have no point, no purpose for living, until you're number one. How you're fighting for it with your life; have fought for it, as, in truth, on the inside, you're already dead. But it's for nothing; no one looks at you, only telling you lightly to try harder, as if you're not already giving it your all. The one you want to become won't look at you, not like he looks at the other one, and the other one only looks at you with cold eyes, as if trying to freeze your efforts, his silence telling you that they are meaningless, that you will never reach his level.

You do your best, anyway. You hate being weak, you hate giving up on what you want. You keep trying, keep feeling, keep caring, even though you know it's all useless, anyway. Your friends raise their eyebrows, wondering at your change in attitude, but don't press you further on the matter. You struggle, fighting with yourself, wanting to become the best, wanting recognition, wanting anything, wanting nothing more to be seen by those above you.

You're invisible, though. Completely invisible, hidden in the night of this world of black.

One person sees you, though. One person, in a world of tons. He sees you and recognizes you, and understands where you are. He, too, is below the top, but close to it, and he, too, cannot be seen. He, however, is content with his place, having adjusted to it and having never expected to be anyone worth anything at all. His apathy astounds you, and you feel a trickle of jealousy at him, for with his apathetic shield around him, isolating him from the rest of the world, surrounded in his uncaring, he cannot be touched, and he cannot be hurt. And you envy that.

He becomes your best friend. He tries to help you, helping you review when you want to come in top on a test, proofreading your essays, going over facts with you, though he couldn't care less about his own marks. It doesn't help at all, of course, as you're still stuck in second, always in second, but at least, it shows you that someone cares, and to someone, at least, you're first in their heart.

You talk of the future with him. You discuss it endlessly, for hours. Neither of you have any idea where you're going; it's impossible, really, to know, as neither of you are number one. You still strive for that goal, that recognition, that certainty, though the other has given up. He discusses joining intellegence agencies, becoming a private hacker, or leading a criminal life, and you airly toss out options of joining the mafia, going back to Russia, or becoming dictator of the world. As he expands on his theory that he'd make a rotten mafia man, you wonder to yourself if he ever considers a future with you in it, the two of you, together, against the world. You bite your lip, though, thinking it'd be more than a little weird to ask that, to seem so dependent, so you make a sarcastic remark and proceed to tell him how he'd make a great Sicilian.

Your life gets somewhat better. You manage to accept, to a degree, your failure at your goal. You keep striving, of course, and manage to delude yourself that you'll get there in the end, when it really matters. You begin to spend more time with your friend, your only true friend, ignoring the one who always ignored you, always ignored everyone but Him, preferring his puzzles to anyone else. He, the only He, doesn't contact you or look at you, but you know He's busy, and he hasn't contact the other one either, so, for the time being, you're okay with it. Your subtle sort of existance is trying, at times, but for a while, with you and your friend, you are content.

Until you get the news.

At first, you can't believe it. It couldn't have happened. It's simply not possible. Mortality wasn't supposed to have been a concern. How could this have occurred? Your first reaction is raw and pure, venegeful and hurt, raw, stricken grief, and it comes from your core as you scream and curse.

The other one with you says nothing, merely turning his puzzle over and starting anew. A dim part of your mind realizes the sick symbolism of that action, but you're too stricken to care. He makes some generic remark about losing, and you're too astonished by his emotionless reaction to register his words.

And then it hits you.

There is no more waiting time.

There is no more time to strive.

There are no more chances to become number one.

There is nothing left to strive for.

You have failed.

And He is gone.

Meaningless words about Him not having chosen echo in your ears, and a futile suggestion of the two of you working together hangs in the air, but despite the other's affirmative reply, you know this can never be. You have failed, you have been found unworthy, and you would never truly be his equal, his partner, his friend. You cannot work like that, you cannot let yourself; you have to win, you have to become stronger, better, more than him, and your words are angry as you shout that you'll leave, that you don't care, that you'll find your own place, that you don't need any of them. They're nothing to you, nothing, and that very night, without so much as a second thought, you leave, taking your precious few belongings with you as you depart.

As you stand on the street, cold, in cotton clothes, not yet fifteen yet, you begin to wish you had thought this through.

You spend your time making a name for yourself over the next few years. You never succeeded at being one of the good guys, ridding the world of crime and whatnot, so you turn to the other end of the spectrum, determine to become a success in some respect. You immerse yourself in crime and cunning, in organized plans and tactical pursuits in the worst ways. With no one to watch you, to criticize who you are, you indulge in your darker side, wearing leather, tight clothes, boots, chains, and crosses. The dark image with the religious overtones intimidates people, and you get a thrill from being seen for once.

You work your way to the American Mafia. The capitalistic trait continues even to the underworld, and you soon rise to the top. Commanding the entire organization, your age still far too young than the norm for such a job, you decide on your first target, your first goal. It's instinctual to you, impulsive, though logical, and it's only later, after you've failed, that you realize why you did it in the first place: that you were still striving to be number one.
Your plan fails, as have all your previous efforts, and you run, unable to redeem yourself from these ruins, looking to start afresh.

bigbluebox @ 2006-08-29T21:37:00

2006-08-30T01:42:11Z

I need help on re-starting this fic. I have 40 people watching it, and I feel bad. Anyone willing to help?

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2851917/1/

Title: Those Eyes
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing: NaruSasu, in later chapters
Rating: PG-13 to R. I'm bad with ratings.
Quick Summary: I was bad and wrote a quasi-amnesia fic. Naruto, as a new self, meets Sasuke and is instantly drawn to him, and wants to know why, and Sasuke becomes something close to an obsession for him. The fic flies from there.

Thanks, guys.

Update!

2006-08-23T20:36:41Z

I just want to let everyone know that I, azamaria_chan, will be posting under yellow_spatula from now on.

Another thing, we really need to get this ball rolling, eh? I'll be posting something new soon, but if anyone else has any recyling or reusing to post... ;)

Let me know if you have any questions or ideas!

bigbluebox @ 2006-06-28T22:00:00

2006-06-29T03:22:09Z

[recycle]
Working title: Can't think one up that suits.
Author: </em>saiseki_san
Fandom: Naruto
Genre: AU, slight twisty-thingies added in such as advanced medication and gifts. And almost every baddie is working for Orochimaru because he's cool like that. :3
Warnings: Not for this chapter. :3 Besides a slightly insane stepmother, none at all.
Pairings: GaaHina, NejiTen/Tema.
General plotline/storyline: Gaara, Temari and Kankurou are gifted agents working for Orochimaru. Ages ago, the Hyuugas borrowed a large sum of money and forgot to pay--after migrating to Canada in hopes of escaping his clutches (because the Hyuugas are greedy hoes, yo :p), the sand siblings are sent to assassinate two of the younger members(in hopes of scaring them into paying): Hyuuga Neji and Hyuuga Hinata. They go to school like everyday teens, and would eventually get closer to the targets so they could poison their drinks, or something that will result in two dead Hyuugas.
Author's notes: This would probably end up being all angsty near the end because Tema could get to be real close buddies with Tenten and she could lurve Neji or we could do a Nejitema pairing here, and she'd have to kill him. Same goes with Gaara and Hinata. Total crack pair, but I love it ♥. But for anything else? Go right ahead~~ you'll understand better if you read the first chapter. First post at any comm. aswell! :D

Silence was almost all that could be heard throughout the fifth floor in the Hyuuga mansion, not even the subconscious stirring of its sleeping residents. The silence was so extreme, you could hear it ringing in your ears, you’d flinch at the slight yet seemingly obnoxious ticking of the clock (which was the only noise) and feel as if the fast beating of your heart would wake up all of the sleeping family who lay in the beds behind the tall white doors of their bedrooms. Yes, it certainly was quiet, for everyone, even the multiple servants who held multiple jobs at the Manor, were asleep as it was in fact 4:30 in the morning, according to the unreliable clocks that always seemed to be a different time from the one in the next room. Now! There was the slightest creak of the floor, and the door of one of the many rooms was slid open, and a sleepy, pale lavender eye peered out the crack the owner of the eye had created. A girl then pushed the door open to its full extent, her pale skin seeming to glow rather eerily in the lightless environment, and her short hair swayed in sync to her slow movements. Her small socked feet walked across the carpet, and down the corridor, towards a certain destination: the bathroom. She then slid open this door, and flicked a switch. Light flooded the small room, spilling into the hallway, and she lifted her small hand to shield her narrowed and unadjusted eyes from the blinding light. Pausing for her eyes to adjust to the new light, she then headed inside the room, turning around and pushing the door shut with her forearms as her lavender eyes flickered around the empty space just outside the door, as if searching for a non-existent enemy that could attack her at any time. But, that was just Hinata, the quietest and most timid female of the Hyuuga household. There wasn’t a sound from the room for a moment, then there was the loud roaring of a flushed toilet, and the slight trickle of running water. The door was once again opened, the click of the doorknob lost in the gentle shh of the toilet, and Hinata stepped out, flicking the light off, letting darkness engulf her and her surroundings once again. Blinking several times before her eyes readjusted to the darkness that recently re-surrounded her, she headed back towards her room, the floor occasionally creaking beneath her slight weight. The bedroom door was shut behind the girl slowly without a single sound, as if not to disturb anyone any further. The tiniest creaking of her bed was heard, and then no more was heard from the female that night.

---

The neon green letters of the boy’s alarm clock switched from the 5:59 it had been for a minute before, and switched to 6:00, setting off the alarm. A quiet but annoying buzzer then started as if to say, ‘Get your butt in gear! It’s the start of a new day’! A hand reached out from the folds of a faded indigo blanket, then curling into a fist as it slammed into the oversized ‘snooze’ button of the alarm clock therefore silencing the irritating buzzer at once. The owner of this particular hand then sat up, with a creak from the bed beneath him, but without a groan that was typically heard from people his age when getting up for the troublesome school all young adults, teenagers, pre-teens and children had to face from Monday to Friday. He brushed away the old rag of a blanket away from his body, and swung his legs over the side of his sleeping place, a high pitched squeak causing him to wince slightly. The hand that was once a fist was lifted to his face and it rubbed the sleep out of his closed eyes as he stood and headed towards the small closet that was attached to his bedroom wall. His lavender eyes were directed towards the ground, which was a fluffy grey-blue carpet, as he walked towards the closet door and turned the golden knob, pulling open the closet door with the slightest creak of the door hinges. As he peered inside, he narrowed his eyes and flicked the pale irises from each article of clothing, searching for something comfortable to wear.

---

Hinata scurried down the many flights of stairs, occasionally stumbling and almost falling. The pa, pa, pa of her feet hitting the ground seemed to echo through the stairwell almost as well as the huff of her hurried breaths. Today she was dressed in her usual attire, the hooded light purple jacket with the fluffy fake fur lining, and the regular black floods. In her small thin arms was cradled a royal purple book bag, that was completely overstuffed with homework, pencils, high school text books and the like. Even though the well-made bag didn’t look very heavy, it was definitely ten pounds at the least. Her arms were starting to tire from carrying it like she did, but it was for the best due to the fact that she took the bus, and slipping her arms into the straps would be rather pointless if she was just going to sip it off and onto the floor of the vehicle as she sat down, now wouldn’t it?

Her socked feet touched down with the ground floor, and only then did she slow her pace to a brisk walk. The carpet left small not very detailed dark blue imprints of her feet leading towards the tall white door, which was left slightly ajar. The white walls were flowing rather snailishly past as she walked with a slight frown upon her lips. Hopefully Neji-niisan won’t be angry with me for making him wait, she thought to herself as a tiny fragment of her lip was slid inside her mouth and chewed on, purely out of nervous habit. She put her arms in front of herself rather protectively, as if to build a wall between herself and the other citizens of the world, as she entered the obscenely large living room, and spotted her cousin, Neji, sitting on the white couch with his eyes shut, leaned with his back against the couch lazily, arms crossed. Hinata’s lavender eyes did a quick scan of the room, taking in the pure snow white of the room. It always made her feel as if she’d walked into a snow scene off of a Christmas card, with the white carpet glistening slightly under the circular lamp that hung from the ceiling, and the plush white furniture. The only thing that wasn’t white was the television, which stood taller than she did, and wider than the oversized couch placed in front of it.
“Sorry I was late getting down, Neji-niisan,” she said quietly, looking down in shame.

Her cousin’s eyes opened, as he lifted his wrist towards his face to see the crystal face of the silver watch he wore. “Hinata-sama, it’s only seven.”

The younger girl nodded, and looked up at her older cousin, a faint pink glow of embarrassment radiating from her pale face.

---

The bus reflected the rising sun’s light into the pale lavender eyes of the two Hyuugas, as they stepped into the old, rusting, and foul smelling bus from the crisp, fresh winter day outside. It was actually a good day in the usually harsh and extreme Canadian winter, as the sun was shining pleasantly; there wasn’t even a breath of the cold bitter wind that usually dominated the outside world, and besides, the air wasn’t even that cold. In fact, it was actually sort of humid in a sort of strange way. You could clearly tell spring was coming early this year. The eldest stepped onto the bus, metal clanking beneath his blue shoes, and headed towards his usual window seat, whilst Hinata took up residence across from him, her eyes pointed towards the window. Both observed different sides of the buses’ setting roll part as if gained speed, and flew down the road at a speed that was obviously far above the speed limit.

---

“Please, fasten your seat beats,” said the high-pitched female voice over the intercom of the plane. “We are about to land.”

The voice then went to repeat herself in several languages after the English, including Japanese. After all, they were coming from Tokyo, Japan. The clatter of conversation in both English and Japanese quieted, and the sound of the metal buckles being slid closed filled the air from various directions. Only ten minutes afterwards, the enormous Japanese jumbo jet began its descent.

Three teens entered the lobby at the Canadian airport, the eldest of the three lifting her hand to her forehead and scanning the not-so-crowded seating area for a woman that they had seen only in photos beforehand. The girl’s hair was strawberry blonde (not to mention stiff), and kept in two ponytails at the top of her head, but also the remainder of the hair was bound into ponytails just behind her earlobe. On her right stood a boy anyone could tell was younger than her. His hair was a deep crimson red, and he had relatively pale skin. Dark circles, which were often mistaken for thick eyeliner, encircled his pale turquoise eyes as they scanned the crowd.

“Jeeze, where is she?” said the last, in Japanese and an annoyed tone. Anyone could see that he was uncomfortable in the ordinary everyday clothing he wore, also, on another note, his hair was a soft brown, and his face was covered in purple face paint, causing some passersby to do a double take at the Japanese trio.

“How are we supposed to know, Kankuro?” said the girl, as she glanced back at the other, and then continuing her visual search. With a defeated sigh, she reached into a backpack she had shouldered beforehand, and retrieved a photo from within. After a quick glance at the photo, she quickly pointed at the entrance to the lobby, beaming. “There!”

In the entranceway stood a woman with long brown hair tossed over a slender shoulder, a light application of soft pink lipstick, and she wore nothing too notable, just a plain dress of a soft pink hue.

“That’s her?” Kankuro said, glancing at his sibling. “Are you sure, Temari? She looks harmless in person.”

She nodded, and looked at the photo clenched in her hand, which portrayed a woman with messy brown hair and deep plum colored bags beneath her bloodshot eyes, which held an evil look. Ruby red lips held a faint trace of what may have been a smirk, or an insane smile; no one could really tell.

The woman noticed the trio, and smiled warmly, eyes forced shut as she waved to the foreign teenagers. With Temari leading the way, and brothers trailing behind, they approached the woman who was to be their adoptive mother, Caroline Fisher.

---Flashback---

“So,” Temari said, as she looked over several piece of paper. “Kabuto-sama… The Hyuugas… They are our targets..?”

Kabuto, the youth with more silver hair than many much, much older men had, pushed up his glasses in his signature way, light from a table lamp reflecting off of them in an eerie fashion. “Only two of them are your targets. Hyuuga Neji and Hyuuga Hinata. Orochi-san doesn’t care how you are to do it, but he wants them dead. But,” he said, smirking in an evil, superior sort of way. “Do it so that no one suspects it was you. There’s my advice.”

“Soooo? Temari?” said Kankuro, poking her shoulder only to irritate her. “What did Orochi say?”

The blonde girl was in the midst of packing a few different outfits into a leather suitcase, which was laid out on a twin bed in an airy hotel room. The blanket was of a fine cloth, and had an ash pattern of circles and squares, which was tastefully designed. This bed was against a pure white wall that reminded the girl of freshly fallen snow that wasn’t yet tainted by a traveler’s heavy and weary footprints. There was a light yet murky mauve trim connecting the fluffy, thick, high quality ash grey carpeting, which left an imperfect impression of your foot when you walked soundlessly upon its soft, plush surface to the clean, white wall. Nearing the foot of the bed was a rather large window, which was thrown open in order to allow the cool crisp breeze entrance to the cramped hotel room. Placed a few feet away from the first bed, was another that was completely identical to Temari’s (this one was more for decoration than anything else, and where Kankuro now sat upon with his legs crossed), and then the same length away from that was yet another bed, and like the others, dressed with the same pattern of circles and squares on the comforter. The red head stood with his back leaned against the wall between the two beds, his arms crossed and a blank, uncaring expression on his young face. Temari sighed, and slammed the suitcase closed, reaching a tanned hand over towards one side of the suitcase, and zipping it shut with a loud ziiiiiiiip.

“Orochi didn’t talk to me this time,” she said as her long fingered hands fumbled with the buckles on the suitcase as she attempted to do up the brass buckle. “It was Kabuto. You know, his right hand man? Well, apparently-” here, she removed a piece of crumbled paper soundlessly from the pocket in her jeans and showed the paper so that it faced up. The paper was, in fact, a Hyuuga family photo with two bright red circles around two faces- “we’re only going to remove of two people. Something about debts being left unpaid, and a warning for them to hurry up and pay up. Hyuuga Neji and Hyuuga Hinata… I suppose that we were assigned this mission because they’re the same age as us... But we also got to do it sneaky. Nothing that will let them know it was us. I thought that maybe we could pretend to be their friends, and then poison their drink when we go over to their house or something, you know?”

Kankuro blinked. “Er, sounds workable.”

She nodded, and gripped the handle of the suitcase as she hoisted it off of the soft bed, and lugged without any trouble towards the door. Placing it beside the other two suitcases, she brushed the hands together, bangs bouncing and swaying with her larger movements. “Yeah. He also let me know that these two, along with the entire clan, are kind of special, like us… They have the Byakugan, which allows them to see the inner chakra coils and fight to their advantage with that, along with zooming in to see things at great distances, and see through objects.”

“I see,” Kankuro replied. Great, he thought to himself bitterly. “So we can’t go about just randomly attacking them… Everyone can use some chakra, but they also have advanced control… Hmm. Yeah, we’re going to have to go with the sneaky killing theory you cooked up, Temari. Poison or something like that.”

“Yeah,” Temari said, sitting on her bed with the tiniest squeak of the mattress, nodding her head in agreement. “But, apparently, they’re unable to activate it just yet. We’d just have to worry about the parents and such.”

“Oh?” Kankuro said, one brown eyebrow lifted in interest. “So do they all live in the same building, then?”

“I have absolutely no idea,” the blonde-haired girl said, yawning slightly and reaching up a long-fingered hand to her mouth in response. “Kabuto didn’t know anything else, apparently. Oh well, if we do this we’ll be free from Orochimaru’s clutches forever… But really, Kankuro! Hurry up and pack already; Gaara and I are already completely finished, and you haven’t even started!”

[Reduce] Highway 66

2006-06-12T15:09:40Z

Hey, saw the post about reducing, and I really couldn't help myself, even though it hasn't been voted on yet. I hope this drabble's OK. I wrote the original under a different name back in 2000.

I have been on hiatus since 2001, and am just starting to ease myself back into writing fanfic/fic. Because, damnit--I miss writing.

Title: Highway 66
Fandom: Gundam Wing
Warnings: Deathfic, post EW
Original word count: 823
New word count: 100

I'm dead. My vital signs disagree, but don't be fooled.

He was driving a little too recklessly, too fast. The horizon dared us to reach it before dawn, and we were going to make it with time to spare. Hell, if an army of soldiers and a self-destructing gundam couldn't kill him, what was a little black ice? We disregarded the danger, but when we hit, everything spun out then came to a crashing halt.

A steering wheel in his chest, he bled out beside me as we waited. No one came.

And me? I walked away without a scratch.

It's..."reducing" time! winks

2006-05-28T07:00:47Z

Why hello all you 46 members of bigbluebox! I'm glad to see there's some interest in this community and I hope the ball gets rolling soon. Don't hesistate to post any "recycling" or "reusage"!

Now that there's a significant number of members, I'd like to see what the concensus would be regarding the infamous "reduce" part of bigbluebox. As you all probably know by now, I'm uncertain as to what I should do...And I'd love some feedback. So, I'm going to let you guys know what some other people have suggested to me and see what you think!

Here goes. I really like the theme "Reducing the amount of unfinished fanfiction" which was suggested to me by nishasha, but what we do with "reduce" is still up in the air. Some ideas suggested to me below.

Shrink and rewrite an already existing fic and set a word limit.

Taking someone else's story idea and writing a drabble from it, since it's physically reducing the word count, while completing the concept.

Writing for a theme that deals with "reducing" something.

A fic exchange! Switching an unfinished fic with another lj user to finish the rest.

Reduction factor of the workload, as quoted by admiral_yen below.

Reducing the amount of badfics! Taking an incredibly awful piece of fanfiction and making it into something better on the eyes. (If this is legal of course, which I'm not sure is...)

*Thanks to experienced, cindelius, nishasha, anonymous and everyone else for your lovely ideas! ♥

Anyways, if you have any more ideas, let me know! I think a vote will be the deciding factor...what do you guys think? :)

EDIT: Just to let you know, it's perfectly fine to post any "reduce" fics. I think I'm going to let "reduce" fics be any of the above, or just any type of fiction with the idea of "reducing" in mind. Also, I'm thinking of having monthly community challenges that deals with one of the three themes...but that will probably get started around the end of the month. (June)

Thanks! And hope everyone is enjoying the comm! ♥

-Le Mod

Oh yes, and I'll all for advertising this community anywhere and everywhere. (And if any of you other mods would like to affliate, let me know!) I'd like to see some other exciting fandoms as well. Not that I don't love Naruto... ;)