*Aeowen_Elf*
04-23-2002, 09:08 PM
I don't know if i'm allowed to post this...:uh?: :confused: It's a yoai fanic between vincent and this other guy...If you don't know what yoai is it two men...wel doing IT...:p sSo if your offened by it or are to young don't read on! I MEAN IT!
==============================================
Black Valentine
==============================================
The scalpel slid smoothly along the edge of the boy's left
shoulder. Every few inches he would grunt and give a little
moan, but the surgeon's hand was skilled, his pace was slow and
the sedated boy did not awaken.
Yoshima dabbed at the excess blood with a sterile handkerchief, taking
A shy glance to examine what was left of his young patient.
Most of his clothes had been singed by the attack; only the fire-
proof cloak and a few metal buckles remained intact. The boy's
shirt was torn to shreds at mid-chest. Cross-hatched scars struck
out from his chest. A life long reminder of the Shinra�s evil. The
Attack that left the boy gravely wounded.
But... The doctor squinted. There was something embedded on his
chest, beneath the burnt cloth. Pacemakers lead, perhaps? He
dipped the scalpel back into a jar of sterile solution and
reached towards the boundary between the shirt and the open patch
of skin.
Something stopped him. A slight movement of the chest, the
weak intake of breath... then all was still. Yoshima's hand
quivered in mid-motion. It was almost as if... He shook his
head. No, he COULDN'T be holding his breath. His
professional training pushed all irrelevant thoughts aside, and
Yoshima placed his hand upon his patient's chest.
Shallow was the breath, and the boy wasn�t even conscious.
It was warmer than he had expected it. His fingertips felt cool
even to the half-conscious youth, who shivered and then relaxed.
So he HAD been holding his breath, thought the doctor, putting it in his mental
Notes.
The singed cloth would have bonded with the skin, and
Yoshima wished to involve as little pain as possible. His
anesthetics were weak compared to those of Shinra medics, and
there was no way of knowing when one of their �creations� would
stay sedated.
To get to the strange object imbedded into the skin of the boy, he
Would have to free him of the cloth attached to his flesh.
He pressed down against the fabric and massaged it gently. His
fingers moved in a spiral pattern widening in a slow rhythm,
gradually his fingers wedged themselves between the dry fabric
and the sweat-soaked skin. He slowly peeled it away gently. The doctor
found himself relaxed by the task, his fingers pressing down on the
firm flesh, yet seemed to melt under his touch . He found his thoughts
wandering to other problems, other patients, and it came a surprise to
realise he had freed the boy of his singed shirt.
He shook his head and started at a silver object. Placing his finger tightly
Round it he pulled and withdrew it.
Now, what was his prize? He held it to the light. A cheap steel
Flat rod, stained with blood. A number was neatly carved into
it�s surface. �No. 6� Other than that... He turned it around.
The boy�s name - 'Vincent Valentine' � a strange discovery.
First things first. Now that he knew it was no danger to his
patient's life, it was his task to attach the metal arm.
It didn�t really look like an arm. It was a rough cast in
bronze and ending in a claw resembling more an eagle's talons
than a human hand. Its dull usefulness aside, the metal limb seeped
power and was, Yoshima admitted, perfectly suited to
the boy�s figure.
The previous surgeon had cut of the nerves of the stump of an arm.
A much need task which Yoshima gladly wouldn�t have wanted to do.
The boy looked calm, and peaceful but for a permanent frown. Yoshima
Lost in thought, stood thinking it
would be a pity to see tears on those cheeks, and his mouth open
wide in pain, his head tossed back, his long black hair shaking as
he broke the silence that so suited him, Screamed in
pain while his shoulder bled uncontrollably�. WHY am I THINKING
THIS?
Yoshima forced himself to concentrate on the operation. He
concentrated hard on his task. �See the holes, there, in the bone? That's
where the pegs in the arm's socket go, and here all you have to
do is link the graft with the opening, and press HERE for the
stitching mechanism to activate WHERE is that blood supply, oh
THERE, now switch it on and...�
Done. Too quickly. Now there was nothing to do but
sit back, wait, and watch. He'd been paid before he had
preformed this operation, and it would be stupid to leave a
armed and dangerous soldier sedated. There was no telling
what the reaction might be. Especially when with this kind of patient.
The doctor sat down and reached across to a bottle of gin. He
slowly poured out a glass of it and tried to ignore the motionless
body laid out before him.
He couldn't.
Long cloak, pale skin, burnt clothes and a odd head cloth
that cover the whole of his forehead for some unknown reason.
The boy... what was his name?
Yoshima glanced at the blood stained metal rod. Vincent.
Either Vincent or some kind of trademark name. Well...
There was no telling maybe he was abducted by aliens�
Was that the gin speaking? Yoshima glanced at his empty glass
and wondered how many he had drank before checking. Maybe it was.
It was odd... He scrutinized Vincent�s burns�
The kind of blast he'd been in... a chemical explosion, strong gunfire...
The doctor touched the scar that ran across his face. A
similar chemical accident had killed his mother, he looked like her. But this boy...
But fate seemed to have saved Vincent. Only left him with slight burns,
And a stump for an arm. A lucky escape to be honest. Not many survived the
Explosion.
Was that Shinra's doing? Yoshima didn�t doubt the fact they could have
developed a super-soldier then deliberately attack it to see how
well it survived.
How old was he? The doctor walked over and looked at the face.
His breathing was gruff, but stable, and a bit of drool was
sliding out of the corner of his mouth. Yoshima knelt and
dabbed at it with his shirt cuff.
He could have sworn that Vincent smiled.
Who WAS the boy? The doctor walked to the table where he'd
left the rod. Maybe THAT would be a clue. He stared at it for about five minutes before he resumed his task. He ran a finger tentatively along the work between
the shoulder and the metal arm. Yoshima had done his work;
the melding of flesh and machinery was near-perfect.
"Let's see who you are."
The controls to access Vincent�s file were simple.
The result was quite surprising. The boy, Vincent, had no record
of any education at all. Yoshima thought that at least Vincent would
have had, to some extent had a education to genetic engineering...
Yoshima thought back to his university days. To when he was studying
genetic engineering himself. It was about thirty years ago. In fact, the
teacher was quite friendly. She'd been important for her research
and then stopped producing original work.
What was her name again? Lucia? Larissa?
"Lu... Lucrecia..."
That's right. Lu-
Yoshima jumped. He looked at Vincent. Vincent�s mouth was
half-open, so were his eyes, but his pupils were dilated and
it was not clear that he was see the same world as Yoshima.
"Lucrecia..."
The doctor took Vincent's chin in his left hand and raised it.
Pupils incredibly dilated, lips trembling, cheeks -
And that's when Vincent took control. He drew the doctor's head
against his with his bronze claw/hand, pressing against the back of Yoshima�s skull
with a immense pressure. At
first Yoshima kept his lips tight against each other and his teeth
clenched, but the feel of Vincent's human hand against his cheek proved fatal.
A slight touch of Vincent's palm and fingers against the side of
Yoshima�s face sent a shiver along his back. Enough for his lips to prize open.
The hand Yoshima held himself up with slipped on the boy's long
tangled hair; his body fell on Vincent's own - chest to chest,
legs askew, and his lips, with a shiver, parted neatly fix on those of Vincent�s.
It was clear who Vincent, who was drugged, thought he held. Lucrecia..
But thoughts in the doctor's mind were confusing, even to himself. The shock began with fear; only his defenses fell and crumbled. But suddenly, there were clear images, not of misty confused emotion but of Vincent beneath him.
Yoshima held the back of Vincent's head in a soft grip, in
the same position of Vincent�s metal claw holding his own head. Their
mouths were pressed and looked fused together, the parting of lips as large as they could manage. �What did Valentine think of as he did this?� wondered the doctor, for the boy's Actions came as a surprise. In Yoshima�s mind, it
was an awkward situation to which he couldn�t control but gave into.
Yoshima felt his breath catch in his chest,
and he could tell it had the same effect on the Vincent beneath him,
for his breaths now puffed in ragged, short bursts from his
nostrils and through his mouth into Yoshima�s own mouth.
Half on the operation table and half falling off the two squirming bodies,
attached by the mouths shifted sideways to stay stable.
They soon need more�
Vincent�s metal hand left Yoshima�s head. Four of the sharp claws retracted leaving
only the sharp index blade extended. It slid through Yoshima's black hair and when it reached his
shirt collar, began to cut. Frozen Yoshima lay rigid. The claw continued its neat dissection of the white coat. Both the white coat and Yoshima�s shirt fell away. Vincent�s human hand reached hungrily for Yoshima�s chest and slid easily along it�s sweat drenched surface.
But his had stopped abruptly.
Vincent's eyes burst into full awareness. His face broke out into a angry frown.
"You're not Lucrecia."
The last thing Yoshima saw in life were the Bronze tips of
Vincent's claws diving into his face.
==============================================
End Black Valentine
==============================================
That's it! =^.^= Was it good? I wanna know if it was? K then that's all now!
Aeowen
==============================================
Black Valentine
==============================================
The scalpel slid smoothly along the edge of the boy's left
shoulder. Every few inches he would grunt and give a little
moan, but the surgeon's hand was skilled, his pace was slow and
the sedated boy did not awaken.
Yoshima dabbed at the excess blood with a sterile handkerchief, taking
A shy glance to examine what was left of his young patient.
Most of his clothes had been singed by the attack; only the fire-
proof cloak and a few metal buckles remained intact. The boy's
shirt was torn to shreds at mid-chest. Cross-hatched scars struck
out from his chest. A life long reminder of the Shinra�s evil. The
Attack that left the boy gravely wounded.
But... The doctor squinted. There was something embedded on his
chest, beneath the burnt cloth. Pacemakers lead, perhaps? He
dipped the scalpel back into a jar of sterile solution and
reached towards the boundary between the shirt and the open patch
of skin.
Something stopped him. A slight movement of the chest, the
weak intake of breath... then all was still. Yoshima's hand
quivered in mid-motion. It was almost as if... He shook his
head. No, he COULDN'T be holding his breath. His
professional training pushed all irrelevant thoughts aside, and
Yoshima placed his hand upon his patient's chest.
Shallow was the breath, and the boy wasn�t even conscious.
It was warmer than he had expected it. His fingertips felt cool
even to the half-conscious youth, who shivered and then relaxed.
So he HAD been holding his breath, thought the doctor, putting it in his mental
Notes.
The singed cloth would have bonded with the skin, and
Yoshima wished to involve as little pain as possible. His
anesthetics were weak compared to those of Shinra medics, and
there was no way of knowing when one of their �creations� would
stay sedated.
To get to the strange object imbedded into the skin of the boy, he
Would have to free him of the cloth attached to his flesh.
He pressed down against the fabric and massaged it gently. His
fingers moved in a spiral pattern widening in a slow rhythm,
gradually his fingers wedged themselves between the dry fabric
and the sweat-soaked skin. He slowly peeled it away gently. The doctor
found himself relaxed by the task, his fingers pressing down on the
firm flesh, yet seemed to melt under his touch . He found his thoughts
wandering to other problems, other patients, and it came a surprise to
realise he had freed the boy of his singed shirt.
He shook his head and started at a silver object. Placing his finger tightly
Round it he pulled and withdrew it.
Now, what was his prize? He held it to the light. A cheap steel
Flat rod, stained with blood. A number was neatly carved into
it�s surface. �No. 6� Other than that... He turned it around.
The boy�s name - 'Vincent Valentine' � a strange discovery.
First things first. Now that he knew it was no danger to his
patient's life, it was his task to attach the metal arm.
It didn�t really look like an arm. It was a rough cast in
bronze and ending in a claw resembling more an eagle's talons
than a human hand. Its dull usefulness aside, the metal limb seeped
power and was, Yoshima admitted, perfectly suited to
the boy�s figure.
The previous surgeon had cut of the nerves of the stump of an arm.
A much need task which Yoshima gladly wouldn�t have wanted to do.
The boy looked calm, and peaceful but for a permanent frown. Yoshima
Lost in thought, stood thinking it
would be a pity to see tears on those cheeks, and his mouth open
wide in pain, his head tossed back, his long black hair shaking as
he broke the silence that so suited him, Screamed in
pain while his shoulder bled uncontrollably�. WHY am I THINKING
THIS?
Yoshima forced himself to concentrate on the operation. He
concentrated hard on his task. �See the holes, there, in the bone? That's
where the pegs in the arm's socket go, and here all you have to
do is link the graft with the opening, and press HERE for the
stitching mechanism to activate WHERE is that blood supply, oh
THERE, now switch it on and...�
Done. Too quickly. Now there was nothing to do but
sit back, wait, and watch. He'd been paid before he had
preformed this operation, and it would be stupid to leave a
armed and dangerous soldier sedated. There was no telling
what the reaction might be. Especially when with this kind of patient.
The doctor sat down and reached across to a bottle of gin. He
slowly poured out a glass of it and tried to ignore the motionless
body laid out before him.
He couldn't.
Long cloak, pale skin, burnt clothes and a odd head cloth
that cover the whole of his forehead for some unknown reason.
The boy... what was his name?
Yoshima glanced at the blood stained metal rod. Vincent.
Either Vincent or some kind of trademark name. Well...
There was no telling maybe he was abducted by aliens�
Was that the gin speaking? Yoshima glanced at his empty glass
and wondered how many he had drank before checking. Maybe it was.
It was odd... He scrutinized Vincent�s burns�
The kind of blast he'd been in... a chemical explosion, strong gunfire...
The doctor touched the scar that ran across his face. A
similar chemical accident had killed his mother, he looked like her. But this boy...
But fate seemed to have saved Vincent. Only left him with slight burns,
And a stump for an arm. A lucky escape to be honest. Not many survived the
Explosion.
Was that Shinra's doing? Yoshima didn�t doubt the fact they could have
developed a super-soldier then deliberately attack it to see how
well it survived.
How old was he? The doctor walked over and looked at the face.
His breathing was gruff, but stable, and a bit of drool was
sliding out of the corner of his mouth. Yoshima knelt and
dabbed at it with his shirt cuff.
He could have sworn that Vincent smiled.
Who WAS the boy? The doctor walked to the table where he'd
left the rod. Maybe THAT would be a clue. He stared at it for about five minutes before he resumed his task. He ran a finger tentatively along the work between
the shoulder and the metal arm. Yoshima had done his work;
the melding of flesh and machinery was near-perfect.
"Let's see who you are."
The controls to access Vincent�s file were simple.
The result was quite surprising. The boy, Vincent, had no record
of any education at all. Yoshima thought that at least Vincent would
have had, to some extent had a education to genetic engineering...
Yoshima thought back to his university days. To when he was studying
genetic engineering himself. It was about thirty years ago. In fact, the
teacher was quite friendly. She'd been important for her research
and then stopped producing original work.
What was her name again? Lucia? Larissa?
"Lu... Lucrecia..."
That's right. Lu-
Yoshima jumped. He looked at Vincent. Vincent�s mouth was
half-open, so were his eyes, but his pupils were dilated and
it was not clear that he was see the same world as Yoshima.
"Lucrecia..."
The doctor took Vincent's chin in his left hand and raised it.
Pupils incredibly dilated, lips trembling, cheeks -
And that's when Vincent took control. He drew the doctor's head
against his with his bronze claw/hand, pressing against the back of Yoshima�s skull
with a immense pressure. At
first Yoshima kept his lips tight against each other and his teeth
clenched, but the feel of Vincent's human hand against his cheek proved fatal.
A slight touch of Vincent's palm and fingers against the side of
Yoshima�s face sent a shiver along his back. Enough for his lips to prize open.
The hand Yoshima held himself up with slipped on the boy's long
tangled hair; his body fell on Vincent's own - chest to chest,
legs askew, and his lips, with a shiver, parted neatly fix on those of Vincent�s.
It was clear who Vincent, who was drugged, thought he held. Lucrecia..
But thoughts in the doctor's mind were confusing, even to himself. The shock began with fear; only his defenses fell and crumbled. But suddenly, there were clear images, not of misty confused emotion but of Vincent beneath him.
Yoshima held the back of Vincent's head in a soft grip, in
the same position of Vincent�s metal claw holding his own head. Their
mouths were pressed and looked fused together, the parting of lips as large as they could manage. �What did Valentine think of as he did this?� wondered the doctor, for the boy's Actions came as a surprise. In Yoshima�s mind, it
was an awkward situation to which he couldn�t control but gave into.
Yoshima felt his breath catch in his chest,
and he could tell it had the same effect on the Vincent beneath him,
for his breaths now puffed in ragged, short bursts from his
nostrils and through his mouth into Yoshima�s own mouth.
Half on the operation table and half falling off the two squirming bodies,
attached by the mouths shifted sideways to stay stable.
They soon need more�
Vincent�s metal hand left Yoshima�s head. Four of the sharp claws retracted leaving
only the sharp index blade extended. It slid through Yoshima's black hair and when it reached his
shirt collar, began to cut. Frozen Yoshima lay rigid. The claw continued its neat dissection of the white coat. Both the white coat and Yoshima�s shirt fell away. Vincent�s human hand reached hungrily for Yoshima�s chest and slid easily along it�s sweat drenched surface.
But his had stopped abruptly.
Vincent's eyes burst into full awareness. His face broke out into a angry frown.
"You're not Lucrecia."
The last thing Yoshima saw in life were the Bronze tips of
Vincent's claws diving into his face.
==============================================
End Black Valentine
==============================================
That's it! =^.^= Was it good? I wanna know if it was? K then that's all now!
Aeowen