![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Castle in the Sky 1/?
Title: Castle in the Sky 1/?
Pairings: Kihae, Henwook, Kangteuk, Sihan, others?
Rating: PG-13
Genre: AU, Dystopia, Steampunk
Summary: Donghae has been able to see the Castle in the Sky for as long as he can remember. The only problem is that no one believes him because there is no sky and the only people with castles killed his family. Living from job to job, Donghae’s life changes when he meets someone who has also seen the castle, and they set out together to find it.
Donghae had never pictured his life ending with a gun shoved down his throat. He was supposed to die a hero. He was supposed to fly straight into the fray and go down in a glorified ball of flame. But not until years into his future, when he had battle scars and stories for scars and battles that were only stories; not now, not when all he had wanted to do was work so that he could buy dinner.
He wondered, briefly, as he choked on his own metallic tasting spit, if the Outliers had finally come after him because of his reckless youth.
Ever since he was young, Donghae had sworn that he could see the Castle in the Sky. Not just any castle, and not just any sky, but The Castle in The Sky. The first time he saw it, he had pointed at the oddly shaped contraption above his head and yelled as loud as he could, “It’s a castle! It’s a castle in the sky! Isn’t it pretty? I think it’s beautiful. Look at all the glass!”
His mother had patted his head and said, “It’s just the dome, Donghae, it’s just the Outliers.”
That’s all it ever was, or so they said. “There is no sky, Donghae, and there never was. It’s just the Dome.”
Donghae hated the Dome. He hated how it was artificial, hated how you could see the canvas stretched around their lives, hated how stale the air was. He told an Outlier once, on a school trip, when he was nine. The man in black had laughed.
“It’s your home, kid, it’s all there is. You love it.”
“No, I don’t,” Donghae had insisted adamantly, “It’s not my home, and I know there’s something else. You live on The Edge to protect us from it. One day, I’m going to fly up to the Castle and see it and I bet it’s awesome. I bet you’re jealous.”
The Outlier had frowned, “That’s dangerous stuff to be saying, kid, you just keep on touring and keep your mouth shut or you’re going to get yourself into trouble.”
“Whatever,” Donghae had scoffed.
His mother had not been pleased when he had returned home.
“I know I saw it. I know it was there. I hate it here.”
“You’re so like your father,” his mother had said, “You are like him in every way.”
Donghae’s father had been taken away by Outliers when his son was only twelve. Donghae had become an adult that day, swallowing back his emotions as he wrapped his arms around his hysterical mother and held her close. He had stopped going to school not long after, and his mother started to teach him at home. The teasing had become too much, (traitor, traitor, traitor), and quite honestly he was pleased to stay home and learn.
However, his mother hadn’t lasted long after that. He had always thought that dying of a broken heart was never possible, but there was no other explanation for the death of his mother; she wouldn’t have left him alone otherwise.
After her death, before she wasn’t even a day in her grave, the Outliers were quick to confiscate the house, bank accounts, and other assets. The only thing Donghae managed to save was his father’s outcraft.
His father had been training to fly for the Outliers, before they had taken him away (Donghae never was given a reason.) The outercraft had been his father’s pride and joy; something he had rescued from the Outlier junkyard, and Donghae spent his free time taking care of it, using the money he earned from performing odd jobs around town to buy parts. He lived out of it, if what he had could even be called a life. Still, he hadn’t ever had any trouble because of it, and he certainly had never expected it to land himself in the trouble he was in now: on his knees in the Outlier Edge post, with a gun shoved in between his teeth.
“How old are you? Is that outercraft yours?”
Really, Donghae thought, the guard was retarded. Donghae tried to talk around the metal, gagging because of the taste. He coughed as the guard pulled the gun free.
“Yes, it’s mine.”
The guard took out a rag and wiped at his weapon, “Fucking thing’s going to rust.”
That was totally was I was going for here, Donghae thought wryly, as he tried to spit out the metallic taste.
“You have a license for that particular outercraft, then?” The guard asked.
“In my pocket,” Donghae said, knowing that if he reached for it, he’d probably get shot.
The guard grunted, gesturing with the gun, and Donghae pulled his license out slowly. It was a treasure to him, a little something of himself and a little something of his father that he would always have. The guard looked it up and down, glancing back and forth between Donghae’s face and the ID picture. It had been a few years since it was taken, five to be exact, and he was due for a renewal in a few months.
The guard handed it back to him. “Okay. Sorry about that, kid. There’s someone around your age who stole an outcraft close by and we’re all a little on edge.”
“It’s not a problem at all,” Donghae returned smoothly, even though it had been the biggest problem he’d faced in years, “I understand. I hope you catch him.”
“Your craft’s being flown around back,” the guard holstered the gun.
Donghae followed the guard through the maze of canvas walls and glass windows. He wondered if maybe he could find a shard of stray glass lying around on the floor. He was starting to get hungry, and even a little bit of glass promised to feed him a feast.
“Bet you’ve never seen so much glass in one place,” The guard boasted.
“No sir,” Donghae replied.
“It’s beautiful, right?”
“Stunning,” Donghae responded, and it was. He had never seen anything like it, and now that he wasn’t fearing for his life, he could truly appreciate it. Except that he didn’t want to stare, so he tried to keep his eyes ahead of him, focused on the guard and not on the way he could see through the glass, or the way the glass had a slight shine to it, or how angry it made him that the Outliers possessed so much of it.
“Here we are,” the guard said, and Donghae had to shield his eyes slightly as they stepped out into the Dome’s light.
His craft didn’t seem too beat up, but it was hard to tell. Donghae intended to give it a thorough inspection.
“Let us know if you see anyone sneaking about; it might earn you a little something.”
“Sure.” Like hell I’d actually seek you out.
Donghae nodded his thanks and punched in his ignition code before taking off, not bothering to acknowledge the guard who was now waving cheerily at him. Fucker. If Donghae ever did come across that thief, he would give him a piece of his mind, oh yes he would. The little asshole cost him a whole afternoon’s work, and therefore, his meal for the night.
Donghae skimmed just above the buildings, the white canvas of his craft a stark contrast to the black fabric stretched over the wooden frames of houses and buildings. Really, it was the pride of Donghae’s existence. Every spare penny he had went into repairs, upgrades; it was like his child.
Only large enough for himself and one other passenger (discounting the storage unit he had installed himself), he had considered scrapping the extra seat, just for conveniences’ sake. It was hard, living out of a craft, and it was especially hard on his back; he was far too young to have back pains. But the extra seat had memories, memories of him and his father flying together that were too important to throw away.
He dove (a little carelessly) into a parking spot that he usually inhabited around this time of day and punched in his locking codes. There were ways to get around it (Donghae had invented several of them) but he wasn’t too worried about it; everyone in town knew it was his. Except the guards, apparently. I’m going to kill that kid, Donghae thought, as he tasted the gun in his mouth again and his stomach rumbled hungrily.
He popped into the sector’s only restaurant and spent a good ten minutes negotiating with the owner. One hour’s work for one plate full of food was usually the end result. Donghae was only ever able to cajole more out of him if it was a special occasion. Grumbling to himself, even though he had known the outcome, Donghae pulled his tools from his canvas craft and headed around the building to fix the Restaurant’s steam heater. Again. He had tried to tell the owner that there were several things that you couldn’t make the heater do and every time you did them, the heater would break.
The owner never listened, but Donghae didn’t complain, because it gave him some semblance of a regular job, even if was only an hour at a time.
He had barely started before there was a loud screech that sounded suspiciously like an outcraft doing things in the air that it wasn’t made to do. Like exploding possibly, Donghae thought, as he noted a puff of smoke and then a moment later caught a whiff of burnt canvas.
A boy, who looked maybe a few years younger than himself, hurtled out of an alleyway towards him. “Hide me!” He squeaked.
Donghae hadn’t known that males could squeak. “What?”
“Please,” the boy grabbed Donghae’s sleeve desperately and Donghae noticed his high cheekbones that were streaked with grease, “Please, they can’t catch me.”
“Fine,” Donghae grumbled, “Get in here,” and he shoved the boy, dirty coveralls and all, behind the heater and into the reeds that were growing around it. “Don’t move.”
He managed to tighten one bolt before five guards rushed up to him.
“Oh,” one of them said, “it’s you.”
Donghae eyed him a minute before realizing that it was the guard who had shoved his gun down Donghae’s throat. Donghae resisted the urge to spit as the taste flooded his senses.
“We’re chasing that kid again,” the guard said, “Did he run past here?”
Donghae wiped at his forehead, wrench in hand, and pointed up the alleyway. “He went that way. He was fast; he’s probably way ahead of you by now.”
“Thanks, kid,” the guard said, though he looked terribly panicked, and the entourage took off at a sprint.
Donghae waited until the dust from their boots had settled before reaching behind the heater and hauling the boy out by his ear. “What the hell,” he said.
“Ow,” the boy pouted, rubbing at the sore flesh, “And thank you.”
“Did you steal an outcraft earlier? Did you?”
“Borrowed,” the boy corrected, looking a little too smug for Donghae’s liking, “The owner was an ass; he wouldn’t pay me after I fixed his heater so I decided to go for a joy ride.”
“Bastard” Donghae hissed, “I almost got killed earlier because the guards thought I was you.”
The boy blinked. “But we don’t look anything alike.”
Donghae let out an exasperated sigh and turned back to the heater. “Whatever. Just get lost, I have to fix this so I can eat.”
There was silence for a few minutes, and Donghae thought that maybe the boy had left. He dropped the wrench in shock when the boy’s voice suddenly exclaimed, “I know! I’ll buy you dinner!”
He whirled, intent on glaring ferociously, but the other mechanic had such an excited look on his face that Donghae couldn’t find it in him to refuse. “How about you help me fix this and buy me dinner.”
The boy grinned.
It turned out that he was more help than Donghae would ever admit out loud. “What’s your name?” He finally asked, instead of praising the boy for his skills.
“Ryeowook,” the boy said, “I’m twenty-two, how old are you?”
Okay, so he wasn’t much of a boy. “Twenty-four,” Donghae said, “Aren’t you going to ask my name?”
“You’re Donghae,” Ryeowook said, “everyone knows you.”
“Everyone but the guard earlier today.”
Donghae finished one last adjustment before heaving himself up onto his feet. “If you were refused payment earlier, do you even have a few shards to buy dinner?”
Ryeowook grinned and pulled a few glass markers from his pocket. Donghae gaped. “Oh, I was paid,” Ryeowook said smugly, “Not directly of course, but I dug around in the outcraft to find myself some compensation.”
“Right,” Donghae muttered, still entranced by how he could see Ryeowook’s hand through the glass. He might actually be able to have a decent meal for once.
Ryeowook took Donghae’s hand a pressed a piece into his palm, smiling shyly. “Here, I really do owe you for saving me.”
The glass was smooth, rubbed a bit at the edges so that it wouldn’t cut, and oh it was beautiful. Donghae held it up to his eye and almost cried as he looked through it. “Thank you,” he said honestly.
Maybe Ryeowook wouldn’t be so bad after all. At least for now.
~
“Do you normally eat this?”
Donghae looked up from his mechanical shoveling of food into mouth to stare at Ryeowook. “No. Usually I’m lucky if I eat at all. Do you mind? I really want to stuff as much into my stomach as I possibly can.”
Ryeowook frowned.
“Do you hate me?”
“No,” Donghae mumbled around a mouth full of noodles.
“Oh. Okay.” Ryeowook looked very happy. “Seriously, though, do you really eat this?”
Donghae let out a sigh, “Why? What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s gross.”
Donghae blinked. “It’s food.”
“Bad food,” Ryeowook said, sniffing suspiciously before smiling shyly up at the other male, “next time, I’m going to make you dinner. It’ll be much better, I promise. Okay?”
Donghae was not appreciating how many times his hand had paused on it’s way to his mouth because of Ryeowook. “Next time?”
“Next time we eat together. We’re friends now.”
Ryeowook’s smile was so brilliant that Donghae found himself nodding.
“Come on, I’m bored. I’m going to take you someplace nice.”
“But my dinner!” Donghae protested, spluttering as Ryeowook tugged at his arm and pulled him out of the restaurant.
“I’ll feed you.”
Wondering why he was even bothering, Donghae helped Ryeowook into the extra seat of his outcraft, (dammit I should have gotten rid of it), and then clambered into the pilot’s seat, punching in ignition codes.
Ryeowook cooed as the city lights blurred underneath them. “Head south. It’s right at the edge of town.”
Donghae ground his teeth but did as he was told, flying slowly, just because he thought it would irritate the other mechanic. It didn’t. “Haven’t you flown before?” he asked, as Ryeowook’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. “I thought you stole an outcraft.”
“I did, but then I blew it up.”
Donghae decided that he was better off not knowing.
“There,” Ryeowook pointed, and Donghae squinted until he saw the hill that was being indicated. “You have to go almost all the way around. It’s a tricky entrance; I designed it myself.”
Tricky was an understatement. Donghae was sure that he’d never fit through the crevice and actually closed his eyes for a second as he slid his craft through. When they didn’t explode, he breathed a sigh of relief and leveled the craft out. “What was that?”
Ryeowook smirked. “Optical illusion. Sort of. Come on.”
Donghae landed the craft lightly, and hopped out, following Ryeowook through a doorway and into what was essentially a hole in a hill lined with canvas. He wasn’t exactly sure how to react.
Ryeowook lit a few candles and as Donghae’s eyes adjusted, he realized that Ryeowook must have a lot more glass than the few pieces and shards he had stolen earlier.
“What do you do?” Donghae asked, as he took in the bed and the kitchen, and the couch, and the rug, and numerous ceramic decorations.
“I’m a mechanic.”
Donghae raised an eyebrow as Ryeowook started his steam heater. “No really. What do you do?”
Ryeowook just smiled, shyly, before turning away and peeling back a bit of canvas to reveal a window-like portal.
Donghae took stock of the man in front of him for a minute, puzzling together what he knew of him. “You’re a thief,” he said finally. “You’re a professional thief.”
“So harsh,” Ryeowook sniffed, “I bought you dinner with money that you knew wasn’t mine so now is not the time to be noble. Come here.”
“I didn’t get to finish the dinner,” Donghae pointed out, but he walked over to Ryeowook cautiously.
“Look at them,” Ryeowook whispered, and Donghae followed his gaze out into the expanse of the Dome.
The lights that bobbed towards the Edge were twinkling. Donghae knew that they were supposed to represent stars. He wasn’t sure what the stars had been, but he was positive that they had been more beautiful than the lights could ever be.
“I see the Sky sometimes, a little piece of it twinkling through the Dome,” Ryeowook whispered, and Donghae’s breath caught in his throat. “It’s okay if you think I’m crazy. Everyone does, that’s why I’m here. I can stare out at the Dome for days if it meant that I would be able to see it again, if it meant that I could see--“
“The Castle,” Donghae whispered, and he forgot that he was angry with the thief. He had never met anyone else who had seen what he could.
“You’ve seen them too?” Ryeowook whispered excitedly, grabbing onto Donghae’s arm again in his excitement.
“Yes. I’ve seen--glass. It’s made of stone, and metal, and it has windows of glass.”
“Colored glass,” Ryeowook was close to tears.
“Yes,” Donghae whispered, his enthusiasm rising, “And it floats so gracefully.”
Ryeowook let out a little shout of joy and wrapped his arms around Donghae’s middle. “I knew that I met you for a reason! Come on, I’ll show you the best part of the hideout!”
He pulled Donghae into the middle of the room and started tossing pillows and blankets onto the floor. “Lay down.” Donghae flopped onto the cushions, completely comfortable after learning that Ryeowook had seen the Castle too.
The sound of wheels and Ryeowook grunting slightly reached Donghae’s ears just as the canvas roof pulled back, revealing vast expanse of Dome, darkened for the night, the twinkling lights swaying slightly in the breeze.
Ryeowook came to lay beside him. “I lay here for hours, sometimes. I just stare out, hoping to see--anything. Anything other than the Dome.”
Oh, how Donghae hated the Dome.
“It’s fantastic.”
“Whenever you want to come here,” Ryeowook whispered, “Or even if you want to stay forever, I don’t mind at all. It would be nice to have a friend that didn’t think I was a lunatic.”
“Same,” Donghae said, and he smiled.
He thought that it was perhaps the first time he had been genuinely happy since the death of his parents.
The smile stayed on his face even as he drifted off to sleep.
~~~~~
This is the fault of Joe Hisaishi and Hayao Miyazaki. I only have a basic idea of where this is going, so bear with me. :/ I might not include all the members, just in an attempt to reign the story in a bit, but...you never know. I'll probably end up including everyone.
Pairings: Kihae, Henwook, Kangteuk, Sihan, others?
Rating: PG-13
Genre: AU, Dystopia, Steampunk
Summary: Donghae has been able to see the Castle in the Sky for as long as he can remember. The only problem is that no one believes him because there is no sky and the only people with castles killed his family. Living from job to job, Donghae’s life changes when he meets someone who has also seen the castle, and they set out together to find it.
Donghae had never pictured his life ending with a gun shoved down his throat. He was supposed to die a hero. He was supposed to fly straight into the fray and go down in a glorified ball of flame. But not until years into his future, when he had battle scars and stories for scars and battles that were only stories; not now, not when all he had wanted to do was work so that he could buy dinner.
He wondered, briefly, as he choked on his own metallic tasting spit, if the Outliers had finally come after him because of his reckless youth.
Ever since he was young, Donghae had sworn that he could see the Castle in the Sky. Not just any castle, and not just any sky, but The Castle in The Sky. The first time he saw it, he had pointed at the oddly shaped contraption above his head and yelled as loud as he could, “It’s a castle! It’s a castle in the sky! Isn’t it pretty? I think it’s beautiful. Look at all the glass!”
His mother had patted his head and said, “It’s just the dome, Donghae, it’s just the Outliers.”
That’s all it ever was, or so they said. “There is no sky, Donghae, and there never was. It’s just the Dome.”
Donghae hated the Dome. He hated how it was artificial, hated how you could see the canvas stretched around their lives, hated how stale the air was. He told an Outlier once, on a school trip, when he was nine. The man in black had laughed.
“It’s your home, kid, it’s all there is. You love it.”
“No, I don’t,” Donghae had insisted adamantly, “It’s not my home, and I know there’s something else. You live on The Edge to protect us from it. One day, I’m going to fly up to the Castle and see it and I bet it’s awesome. I bet you’re jealous.”
The Outlier had frowned, “That’s dangerous stuff to be saying, kid, you just keep on touring and keep your mouth shut or you’re going to get yourself into trouble.”
“Whatever,” Donghae had scoffed.
His mother had not been pleased when he had returned home.
“I know I saw it. I know it was there. I hate it here.”
“You’re so like your father,” his mother had said, “You are like him in every way.”
Donghae’s father had been taken away by Outliers when his son was only twelve. Donghae had become an adult that day, swallowing back his emotions as he wrapped his arms around his hysterical mother and held her close. He had stopped going to school not long after, and his mother started to teach him at home. The teasing had become too much, (traitor, traitor, traitor), and quite honestly he was pleased to stay home and learn.
However, his mother hadn’t lasted long after that. He had always thought that dying of a broken heart was never possible, but there was no other explanation for the death of his mother; she wouldn’t have left him alone otherwise.
After her death, before she wasn’t even a day in her grave, the Outliers were quick to confiscate the house, bank accounts, and other assets. The only thing Donghae managed to save was his father’s outcraft.
His father had been training to fly for the Outliers, before they had taken him away (Donghae never was given a reason.) The outercraft had been his father’s pride and joy; something he had rescued from the Outlier junkyard, and Donghae spent his free time taking care of it, using the money he earned from performing odd jobs around town to buy parts. He lived out of it, if what he had could even be called a life. Still, he hadn’t ever had any trouble because of it, and he certainly had never expected it to land himself in the trouble he was in now: on his knees in the Outlier Edge post, with a gun shoved in between his teeth.
“How old are you? Is that outercraft yours?”
Really, Donghae thought, the guard was retarded. Donghae tried to talk around the metal, gagging because of the taste. He coughed as the guard pulled the gun free.
“Yes, it’s mine.”
The guard took out a rag and wiped at his weapon, “Fucking thing’s going to rust.”
That was totally was I was going for here, Donghae thought wryly, as he tried to spit out the metallic taste.
“You have a license for that particular outercraft, then?” The guard asked.
“In my pocket,” Donghae said, knowing that if he reached for it, he’d probably get shot.
The guard grunted, gesturing with the gun, and Donghae pulled his license out slowly. It was a treasure to him, a little something of himself and a little something of his father that he would always have. The guard looked it up and down, glancing back and forth between Donghae’s face and the ID picture. It had been a few years since it was taken, five to be exact, and he was due for a renewal in a few months.
The guard handed it back to him. “Okay. Sorry about that, kid. There’s someone around your age who stole an outcraft close by and we’re all a little on edge.”
“It’s not a problem at all,” Donghae returned smoothly, even though it had been the biggest problem he’d faced in years, “I understand. I hope you catch him.”
“Your craft’s being flown around back,” the guard holstered the gun.
Donghae followed the guard through the maze of canvas walls and glass windows. He wondered if maybe he could find a shard of stray glass lying around on the floor. He was starting to get hungry, and even a little bit of glass promised to feed him a feast.
“Bet you’ve never seen so much glass in one place,” The guard boasted.
“No sir,” Donghae replied.
“It’s beautiful, right?”
“Stunning,” Donghae responded, and it was. He had never seen anything like it, and now that he wasn’t fearing for his life, he could truly appreciate it. Except that he didn’t want to stare, so he tried to keep his eyes ahead of him, focused on the guard and not on the way he could see through the glass, or the way the glass had a slight shine to it, or how angry it made him that the Outliers possessed so much of it.
“Here we are,” the guard said, and Donghae had to shield his eyes slightly as they stepped out into the Dome’s light.
His craft didn’t seem too beat up, but it was hard to tell. Donghae intended to give it a thorough inspection.
“Let us know if you see anyone sneaking about; it might earn you a little something.”
“Sure.” Like hell I’d actually seek you out.
Donghae nodded his thanks and punched in his ignition code before taking off, not bothering to acknowledge the guard who was now waving cheerily at him. Fucker. If Donghae ever did come across that thief, he would give him a piece of his mind, oh yes he would. The little asshole cost him a whole afternoon’s work, and therefore, his meal for the night.
Donghae skimmed just above the buildings, the white canvas of his craft a stark contrast to the black fabric stretched over the wooden frames of houses and buildings. Really, it was the pride of Donghae’s existence. Every spare penny he had went into repairs, upgrades; it was like his child.
Only large enough for himself and one other passenger (discounting the storage unit he had installed himself), he had considered scrapping the extra seat, just for conveniences’ sake. It was hard, living out of a craft, and it was especially hard on his back; he was far too young to have back pains. But the extra seat had memories, memories of him and his father flying together that were too important to throw away.
He dove (a little carelessly) into a parking spot that he usually inhabited around this time of day and punched in his locking codes. There were ways to get around it (Donghae had invented several of them) but he wasn’t too worried about it; everyone in town knew it was his. Except the guards, apparently. I’m going to kill that kid, Donghae thought, as he tasted the gun in his mouth again and his stomach rumbled hungrily.
He popped into the sector’s only restaurant and spent a good ten minutes negotiating with the owner. One hour’s work for one plate full of food was usually the end result. Donghae was only ever able to cajole more out of him if it was a special occasion. Grumbling to himself, even though he had known the outcome, Donghae pulled his tools from his canvas craft and headed around the building to fix the Restaurant’s steam heater. Again. He had tried to tell the owner that there were several things that you couldn’t make the heater do and every time you did them, the heater would break.
The owner never listened, but Donghae didn’t complain, because it gave him some semblance of a regular job, even if was only an hour at a time.
He had barely started before there was a loud screech that sounded suspiciously like an outcraft doing things in the air that it wasn’t made to do. Like exploding possibly, Donghae thought, as he noted a puff of smoke and then a moment later caught a whiff of burnt canvas.
A boy, who looked maybe a few years younger than himself, hurtled out of an alleyway towards him. “Hide me!” He squeaked.
Donghae hadn’t known that males could squeak. “What?”
“Please,” the boy grabbed Donghae’s sleeve desperately and Donghae noticed his high cheekbones that were streaked with grease, “Please, they can’t catch me.”
“Fine,” Donghae grumbled, “Get in here,” and he shoved the boy, dirty coveralls and all, behind the heater and into the reeds that were growing around it. “Don’t move.”
He managed to tighten one bolt before five guards rushed up to him.
“Oh,” one of them said, “it’s you.”
Donghae eyed him a minute before realizing that it was the guard who had shoved his gun down Donghae’s throat. Donghae resisted the urge to spit as the taste flooded his senses.
“We’re chasing that kid again,” the guard said, “Did he run past here?”
Donghae wiped at his forehead, wrench in hand, and pointed up the alleyway. “He went that way. He was fast; he’s probably way ahead of you by now.”
“Thanks, kid,” the guard said, though he looked terribly panicked, and the entourage took off at a sprint.
Donghae waited until the dust from their boots had settled before reaching behind the heater and hauling the boy out by his ear. “What the hell,” he said.
“Ow,” the boy pouted, rubbing at the sore flesh, “And thank you.”
“Did you steal an outcraft earlier? Did you?”
“Borrowed,” the boy corrected, looking a little too smug for Donghae’s liking, “The owner was an ass; he wouldn’t pay me after I fixed his heater so I decided to go for a joy ride.”
“Bastard” Donghae hissed, “I almost got killed earlier because the guards thought I was you.”
The boy blinked. “But we don’t look anything alike.”
Donghae let out an exasperated sigh and turned back to the heater. “Whatever. Just get lost, I have to fix this so I can eat.”
There was silence for a few minutes, and Donghae thought that maybe the boy had left. He dropped the wrench in shock when the boy’s voice suddenly exclaimed, “I know! I’ll buy you dinner!”
He whirled, intent on glaring ferociously, but the other mechanic had such an excited look on his face that Donghae couldn’t find it in him to refuse. “How about you help me fix this and buy me dinner.”
The boy grinned.
It turned out that he was more help than Donghae would ever admit out loud. “What’s your name?” He finally asked, instead of praising the boy for his skills.
“Ryeowook,” the boy said, “I’m twenty-two, how old are you?”
Okay, so he wasn’t much of a boy. “Twenty-four,” Donghae said, “Aren’t you going to ask my name?”
“You’re Donghae,” Ryeowook said, “everyone knows you.”
“Everyone but the guard earlier today.”
Donghae finished one last adjustment before heaving himself up onto his feet. “If you were refused payment earlier, do you even have a few shards to buy dinner?”
Ryeowook grinned and pulled a few glass markers from his pocket. Donghae gaped. “Oh, I was paid,” Ryeowook said smugly, “Not directly of course, but I dug around in the outcraft to find myself some compensation.”
“Right,” Donghae muttered, still entranced by how he could see Ryeowook’s hand through the glass. He might actually be able to have a decent meal for once.
Ryeowook took Donghae’s hand a pressed a piece into his palm, smiling shyly. “Here, I really do owe you for saving me.”
The glass was smooth, rubbed a bit at the edges so that it wouldn’t cut, and oh it was beautiful. Donghae held it up to his eye and almost cried as he looked through it. “Thank you,” he said honestly.
Maybe Ryeowook wouldn’t be so bad after all. At least for now.
~
“Do you normally eat this?”
Donghae looked up from his mechanical shoveling of food into mouth to stare at Ryeowook. “No. Usually I’m lucky if I eat at all. Do you mind? I really want to stuff as much into my stomach as I possibly can.”
Ryeowook frowned.
“Do you hate me?”
“No,” Donghae mumbled around a mouth full of noodles.
“Oh. Okay.” Ryeowook looked very happy. “Seriously, though, do you really eat this?”
Donghae let out a sigh, “Why? What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s gross.”
Donghae blinked. “It’s food.”
“Bad food,” Ryeowook said, sniffing suspiciously before smiling shyly up at the other male, “next time, I’m going to make you dinner. It’ll be much better, I promise. Okay?”
Donghae was not appreciating how many times his hand had paused on it’s way to his mouth because of Ryeowook. “Next time?”
“Next time we eat together. We’re friends now.”
Ryeowook’s smile was so brilliant that Donghae found himself nodding.
“Come on, I’m bored. I’m going to take you someplace nice.”
“But my dinner!” Donghae protested, spluttering as Ryeowook tugged at his arm and pulled him out of the restaurant.
“I’ll feed you.”
Wondering why he was even bothering, Donghae helped Ryeowook into the extra seat of his outcraft, (dammit I should have gotten rid of it), and then clambered into the pilot’s seat, punching in ignition codes.
Ryeowook cooed as the city lights blurred underneath them. “Head south. It’s right at the edge of town.”
Donghae ground his teeth but did as he was told, flying slowly, just because he thought it would irritate the other mechanic. It didn’t. “Haven’t you flown before?” he asked, as Ryeowook’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. “I thought you stole an outcraft.”
“I did, but then I blew it up.”
Donghae decided that he was better off not knowing.
“There,” Ryeowook pointed, and Donghae squinted until he saw the hill that was being indicated. “You have to go almost all the way around. It’s a tricky entrance; I designed it myself.”
Tricky was an understatement. Donghae was sure that he’d never fit through the crevice and actually closed his eyes for a second as he slid his craft through. When they didn’t explode, he breathed a sigh of relief and leveled the craft out. “What was that?”
Ryeowook smirked. “Optical illusion. Sort of. Come on.”
Donghae landed the craft lightly, and hopped out, following Ryeowook through a doorway and into what was essentially a hole in a hill lined with canvas. He wasn’t exactly sure how to react.
Ryeowook lit a few candles and as Donghae’s eyes adjusted, he realized that Ryeowook must have a lot more glass than the few pieces and shards he had stolen earlier.
“What do you do?” Donghae asked, as he took in the bed and the kitchen, and the couch, and the rug, and numerous ceramic decorations.
“I’m a mechanic.”
Donghae raised an eyebrow as Ryeowook started his steam heater. “No really. What do you do?”
Ryeowook just smiled, shyly, before turning away and peeling back a bit of canvas to reveal a window-like portal.
Donghae took stock of the man in front of him for a minute, puzzling together what he knew of him. “You’re a thief,” he said finally. “You’re a professional thief.”
“So harsh,” Ryeowook sniffed, “I bought you dinner with money that you knew wasn’t mine so now is not the time to be noble. Come here.”
“I didn’t get to finish the dinner,” Donghae pointed out, but he walked over to Ryeowook cautiously.
“Look at them,” Ryeowook whispered, and Donghae followed his gaze out into the expanse of the Dome.
The lights that bobbed towards the Edge were twinkling. Donghae knew that they were supposed to represent stars. He wasn’t sure what the stars had been, but he was positive that they had been more beautiful than the lights could ever be.
“I see the Sky sometimes, a little piece of it twinkling through the Dome,” Ryeowook whispered, and Donghae’s breath caught in his throat. “It’s okay if you think I’m crazy. Everyone does, that’s why I’m here. I can stare out at the Dome for days if it meant that I would be able to see it again, if it meant that I could see--“
“The Castle,” Donghae whispered, and he forgot that he was angry with the thief. He had never met anyone else who had seen what he could.
“You’ve seen them too?” Ryeowook whispered excitedly, grabbing onto Donghae’s arm again in his excitement.
“Yes. I’ve seen--glass. It’s made of stone, and metal, and it has windows of glass.”
“Colored glass,” Ryeowook was close to tears.
“Yes,” Donghae whispered, his enthusiasm rising, “And it floats so gracefully.”
Ryeowook let out a little shout of joy and wrapped his arms around Donghae’s middle. “I knew that I met you for a reason! Come on, I’ll show you the best part of the hideout!”
He pulled Donghae into the middle of the room and started tossing pillows and blankets onto the floor. “Lay down.” Donghae flopped onto the cushions, completely comfortable after learning that Ryeowook had seen the Castle too.
The sound of wheels and Ryeowook grunting slightly reached Donghae’s ears just as the canvas roof pulled back, revealing vast expanse of Dome, darkened for the night, the twinkling lights swaying slightly in the breeze.
Ryeowook came to lay beside him. “I lay here for hours, sometimes. I just stare out, hoping to see--anything. Anything other than the Dome.”
Oh, how Donghae hated the Dome.
“It’s fantastic.”
“Whenever you want to come here,” Ryeowook whispered, “Or even if you want to stay forever, I don’t mind at all. It would be nice to have a friend that didn’t think I was a lunatic.”
“Same,” Donghae said, and he smiled.
He thought that it was perhaps the first time he had been genuinely happy since the death of his parents.
The smile stayed on his face even as he drifted off to sleep.
~~~~~
This is the fault of Joe Hisaishi and Hayao Miyazaki. I only have a basic idea of where this is going, so bear with me. :/ I might not include all the members, just in an attempt to reign the story in a bit, but...you never know. I'll probably end up including everyone.
no subject
no subject
no subject
please update soon okay??
thanks for sharing :D
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
&hearts&hearts&hearts&hearts
ZOMG, I WILL BE BACK TO READ THIS AFTER CHURCH, I PROMISE! Smack me if I don't, kay.
no subject
no subject
Though can you explain the significance of the glass? They exchanged glass for food?
no subject
*facepalms*
no subject
glass is like...gold for them, I guess? they have lots of wood and canvas and metal, but glass is really rare, so it's used as currency, or more a sign of wealth, I guess, when you don't have to use it as money and you use it for decoration or windows (like in the outpost)
no subject
Thanks for explaining! Maybe I'll understand the more I read on.
no subject
i <3 you tho, really. you always read my stuff and it makes me happy
no subject
*blushes* But I seriously can't keep away cause your stuff is too awesome!
no subject
no subject
no subject
oooh~ i like this :D
can't wait for the next chapter!
no subject
no subject
~Angel
no subject
no subject
~Angel
no subject
no subject
~Angel
no subject
i used to write a lot before i started writing FF. I have a whole bunch of unfinished stories just sitting on my computer or archived in trapper keepers. Part of my
excusereason for writing in fandom is so that I can practice and get feedback and stuff so that what I write outside of fandom gets better...cept that i haven't been writing much out of fandom lol.no subject
maybe try writing one lil original piece each time you finish an ff series? or join a comm where there's a lot of original writers...that's what I did:X maybe it'll help you too?
~Angel
no subject
My favorite kind of AU. I really cannot tell you how excited I am to read more of this.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
stalkingwaiting for this fic :Dno subject
<3
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
*looks for more*
Thanks for sharing! =D
no subject