Notes:
Read on A03 or under the Read More..
Kidd & Killer (and Heat & Wire) in SPACE!
Notes:
Wrote over the summer, i just really wanted some claustrophobic space stuff. Not sure how to expand it into anything larger, but the sandbox is open if anyone else wants to play
"Wire to KiKi?"
The radio called out a third time, only dead air in response back.
Stationed outside of the asteroid field, the Victoria Zeta drifted. She was on a skeleton crew for this run - the task retrieving lost cargo instead of their usual mining operations.
As the oldest of the four, Wire & Heat remained behind as their captain and his vice had gone to man the grappler. Wire was more than comfortable piloting V.Zeta when needed, even if he and Heat were technically maintenance crew. Captain was also navigator in times of trouble, able to recalculate paths as fast if not faster than the computer - a skill leading itself beautifully to the shifting fields of debris and stone. Killer was their first mate and lead pilot, but he excelled in the smaller craft the way few physically could, both with the fast chaotic spins she was known for and the small spaces he found more home than claustrophobic.
Right now, Kidd and Killer were out on their own in the smallest of their Victoria collective - the Victoria Punk - a small grappler pod more storage then crew space. There was a second more battle ready grappler - the Victoria Gibson - for outright dog fights. Both were designed for a crew of two, but Kidd was capable of soloing the Gibson as a tank if Killer needed to stay with the Punk to fly quick maneuvers - running distractions rather than outright fighting. The Punk was small but fast - and Kidd had taken advantage of Killer's smaller form to refit the ship to give himself more maneuverability in the arms.
<><>
"Wi.... Ki"
Lost among the screaming alarms was the tiny voice of the comm as Killer took to desperate measures to escape his tail. He'd been behind Kidd in the swivel trying to adjust a loose connection when the attack had thrust them off the face of the asteroid they'd been docked at - free spiraling into space; and he'd only not been thrown against the control panel by Kidd's quick response and holding in him place as they were knocked loose.
He'd slid into the cocoon of the pilot controls of the Punk and was trying to fly and battle alarms simultaneously when Kidd removed his helmet and pulled himself from the gun seat to hang off the shoulder of Killer's station.
"Just fly" he'd ordered - before all the sound fell away when Kidd's headset settled over Killer's ears. Kidd had disconnected the input, leaving Killer to the silence of space and dealt with the plethora of system warnings himself.
Killer knew the Punk by vibrations alone and instinctively continued and adjusted as his displays went in and out. Kidd- the only one who might know the Punk better than Killer - began triage on his ship.
"WiHe to - "
"Zeta - this is Punk. Head's up. We're being ambushed!"
Wire's voice paused. "You need Heat in Gibson?"
"Negative - just stay alert and be ready to grab us when we get to you. We don't have time for a dock at this point."
"Copy Captain"
<><>
Kidd eyed the next set of alarms worried. Killer was doing well in avoiding further damage but the Punk was starting to strain under his hair pin flying.
Killer was also without his helmet - the blue striped plating audibly clattering around the guts of Punk's arms right now.
Executive decision made - Kidd detached his left arm from the Punk's system, and tucked himself in fully behind Killer's station.
"Kidd?" Killer spared him a glace before unclipping the shoulder of his harness. He handed the right shoulder back blindly, trusting Kidd would take it.
"Wrap it behind you and I'll clip you in at the hip." It was an awkward moment of contorting, Kidd twisting himself full circle in the tiny cavity and handing the clip back on Killer's left. There was no room left for Kidd to try and twist to get the left shoulder in as Killer replaced the strap with the one now behind Kidd - the left strap retracting uselessly into the seat.
Kidd patted his partner's shoulder reassuringly, before hitting the seal between the pilot and gunner pods. Maybe before the modifications, this could have been comfortable, but those days where long past them. Really, Kidd was fine just as long as he didn't inhale too deep. He was still too tall for the area, knees bent to each side awkwardly, but when the inevitable leak happened, they would be on the same side of the door no matter the outcome.
And then it came - an explosive shudder as the hull of the Punk was breached and they were set spinning once again. Kidd wrapped an arm over Killer's torso to hold him when the tumbling sent them ass over heels and Killer left only restrained by the hip belt.
Kidd felt his vision hazing as Killer focused on missing the rocks over steadying the spin and he braved one moment to pat Kidd's arm reassuringly before every light in the cocoon turned red and every siren cut off all in one go.
There was an explosion behind them - something big - and then Kidd came back to himself as they drifted in silence. Killer was panting like he'd run a marathon, blond hair slipping from under his suit hood to plaster itself to his sweaty face. His focus was still solely on his flying, but it seemed to Kidd he'd not only shaken their tail but dealt with it permanently.
"KiKi to WiHe - do you copy?" Kidd asked as the alarm lights flickered out as he let go of Killer to begin dismissing them one by one.
"WiHe to KiKi - we copy."
Kidd squeezed Killer's shoulder as he relaxed, a half hearted massage just as much to calm him as to reassure Killer. "We're not going to be able to dock but we're on our way for a pick up."
"Grap and Go, or cargo bay?"
"Grab and go for now. We might have more friends lurking."
Killer would get them to Victoria Zeta - Kidd had no doubts. If they had a grabbler after that was anyone's guess.
<><><>
The Punks gunner segment was gone. Killer had managed to taunt their tail close enough they couldn't evade the mass when Killer'd forced it to detach.
"I'm sorry - " he's started, only for Kidd to press a kiss to his temple as they sat waiting. Heat had used Victoria Gibson to grab the pilot capsule of Punk, and the two remained clutched in Grison's grip as the other grappler remained docked. And they would remain there until the commanders had piloted Victoria Zeta back into the safety of deep space.
"I'll get you a new helmet, don't worry about it."
Killer scowled, "That wasn't what I meant."
Kidd dug his chin into Killer's left shoulder, eliciting a different angry noise, "I said what I said. We still have the Gibson. We'll figure things out. We always do."
The real question was why had they been baited to the run? Were they always the target or just the first unlucky saps to get there first?
Hell - were they even first? How many others had come out here only to meet their ends?
Kidd hated open questions.
More Posts from Mekachu04 and Others
Day 22 : Genderbent
... i wanted to draw cute f!heat doing f!Killer's hair.
we only got halfway there.
last month, when glancing over the list, this prompt grabbed my attention, and i drew this sketch. After that, i could not get the idea out of my head, and then the sketches just didn't stop.
Chapter one of F!Killer story - titled Gunpowder, Gelatin; Dynamite with a Laser Beam (from Killer Queen - BY Queen) is now also up on A03, with a plan for at least one sketch a chapter. please mind the rating and warnings; it's not a story for everyone.
Original Prompt list by @gratefulcheeses
6. Lipstick
Kidd - 11 | Killer - 15 | Victoria - 15 almost 16
Tags specifically for this chapter:
Killer in dresses and makeup
Teenagers doing teenager things
Victoria is a mill girl
Read at A03 linked above or here below cut
Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list
Victoria had been a mill girl since she was 10, a doffer for the older women in the textile mill, and earning herself a bed at the Women's Boarding House, tucked away on the city side of the mill complex, blocking the city's view of the textile manufacturing building and the waste it dumped freely out into the Heaps. She was well aware of the good fortune she'd fallen into, having seen the conditions other girls and boys her age outside of the walls lived in. She was almost 16 now, and still sleeping in the same bed night after night.
The years of being underpaid and overworked left her with a roof over her head, three square meals a day, and never having to worry about the things that go bump in the night.
Never had to worry about the unwanted attention of the older boys as not a one of them yet able to sneak past the Widow Matron of her building.
That wasn't to say Victoria had not been sneaking a certain younger boy in for a couple of years now.
Three years actually - right under the nose of the adults - with the exception of one of the nurses who'd taught Victoria herself the tricks on a night the young woman preferred not to remember. It was a good thing Killer made a convincing girl, prettier hair than her own, and a wore her dresses and heels as naturally as she did. She just had to make sure he was out by curfew or someone was bound to notice the extra girl at head count.
Once, on one of her free weekends, her dress had torn along the back when it got caught on a nail or something. Instead of going home - and possibly be misunderstood as forfeiting her remaining free time - she'd convinced Killer (and Kidd because she'd forgotten to lock the door) to follow her into a shop's bathroom and put her dress on so she could sew it back up as properly as one could on the fly.
While using him as a dress form - she wasn't particular well devolved and he was about as wide chested as she was and it fit him well enough for the task - Kidd had asked the two if that meant Killer was a girl.
Killer had looked upset, it was too close to the ugly things the other boys called him and while she knew Kidd didn't know any better, it was still bordering on hurtful.
"What's wrong with being a girl?" she had demanded of him. Kidd looked surprised, before slouching against the main door, looking properly told off, muttering "Nuthin'."
With a frown, she'd turned back to her stitching, when Killer spoke up, his voice timid in a way she wasn't used to, "Victoria wears pants most of the time, does that make her a boy?" he asked Kidd.
"…no?"
"You're wearing one of her old shirts right now - does that made you a girl?"
The boy shook his head no.
"It's just clothes and stuff."
"Okay." Kidd agreed, sounding like right now he just want the conversation to end.
But Victoria had looked at Killer in her favorite yellow dress - it was the wrong colour for him, but made a cute silhouette.
She'd brought him an older blue one of hers a few weeks later. They'd snuck into the bathroom again, and she'd dressed him up and it looked so much better than the yellow one had.
And then they'd waltzed right in though the front doors of her boarding house, only barely keeping composed long enough to shut themselves away in her currently empty dorm room before they were laughing wildly, clutching at each other to keep from falling over.
"I can't believe that worked!" Killer was cackling, and neither could Victoria, and the thrill of getting such a big one over on the Widow Matron was a high she'd not been expecting.
Most of the time, Victoria was more than happy to hang out with both of the boys, but there was something exhilarating in sneaking Killer away from both his childminder duties and past the women of the boarding house. She was pretty sure some of the other girls had suspected something was up seeing as Killer - who had the audacity to introduce himself as Killer still - could never be found at meals or at bed check.
So far though, the only thing anyone had actually said was when Nicolette had still been in the room getting ready when Victoria and Killer slipped in one afternoon. Killer had quickly looked away from the half-dressed woman, blushing, and Victoria had felt a little offended he'd never reacted to her that way. Nicolette had frowned at the interruption but otherwise ignored them, at least until she was putting her things away. She held a little tube up thoughtfully, before tossing it to Victoria. Even surprised, she'd caught it with ease, looking confused.
"Killer'd look good in purple, I think." was all Nicolette said, before heading out for her own night on the town.
It was a tube of lipstick. Victoria and Killer looked at it thoughtfully.
Nicolette was right. Killer did look good in purple. It was a soft lilac colour that worked well with his straw yellow hair and ice blue eyes. Victoria found she liked painting him up in it, some times adding a touch of purple powder that she'd later pick up to the creases of his eyelids.
Sometimes, after he was all dolled up, they'd hit the town together. Other days they spend in her dorm room. "Just don't mess up your lipstick" was her only rule.
And then he'd either escort her back to the doors just before 10, or would be sneaking out the back, headed back to the Heaps. He had a small collection of makeup that was just his that he hid in one of his caches, along with the dress. The other clothes he would bring back to Kidd, who was more than happy to wear even the ugliest prints if not for anything more than the fact they'd never belonged to anyone else before him.
Kidd would watch him those nights, carefully washing the makeup off under the flickering of lamp light.
"You don't have to wash it off…" Kidd had said finally, "If you don't want to. I don't care if you like to look pretty."
Killer had smiled up at him, head tilted so his bangs fell away from his face for once, and he studied his younger friend, "You think I look pretty?"
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: One Piece (Anime & Manga) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Mugiwara Kaizoku | Strawhat Pirates & Heart Pirates, Mugiwara Kaizoku | Strawhat Pirates & Kid Pirates Characters: Trafalgar D. Water Law, Eustass "Captain" Kidd, extremely minor appearance of Franky, extremely minor appearance of Ikakku, extremely minor appearance of Cloine Additional Tags: Egghead Island Arc (One Piece) Spoilers, Post-Wano Arc (One Piece), Polar Tang has been destroyed, Victoria Punk has been destroyed, Team Work Makes The Dream Work Series: Part 6 of Summer 2024 Summary:
Still, it surprised him when Kidd approached him first, a thick pad of blank newsprint that Law hoped he'd gotten permission for before liberating from Franky's workshop. Kidd dropped the heavy booklet on Law with no preamble.
an *extremely* short snippet of two very much down on their luck pirate captains dealing with their recent losses. More light-hearted than it sounds.
Vagabond - 😴 on Twitter: "Y'all, @Mekachu04 printed and hand bound a copy of Out of the Darkness for me and I couldn't be more in love. They even featured @Valerie_Sparkle's art! #GoodOmens #ineffablehusbands https://t.co/o9gOvLuDqb" / Twitter
Fandom: One Piece (Anime & Manga) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Eustass "Captain" Kidd & Victoria Punk Klabautermann, Eustass Kid & Killer Characters: Eustass "Captain" Kidd, Massacre Soldier Killer, Victoria Punk Klabautermann Additional Tags: Post-Wano Arc (One Piece), Egghead Island Arc (One Piece), lost at sea, hurt!Kidd, broken ribs, Head Injury, Kidd Pirates don't survive, Schrödinger's cat!Killer, Victoria Punk has been destroyed, but she's not out of the fight yet, Klabautermann (One Piece) - Freeform, non!canon Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, kidd is his own kind of radar, Kidd eats raw fish, research is conflicted on eating raw fish when lost at sea to help fight drydration, as it is - don't eat raw fish like this, Violence to Killer's Hair, he'll forgive kidd for it.... probably, no beta: we sink like Victoria Punk Summary:
His head was pounding and he felt like he was going to vomit. The sun beat down on his face, the sea salt thick in the air, the waves uneasy under him. They were not violent, however, they were pitching much more than they should, and Eustass Kidd jerked awake in a panic.
Nothing but the ocean met his gaze.
Chapters: 1/3 Fandom: Good Omens (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens) Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens) Additional Tags: Post-Apocalypse, nope'ggedon, Anxiety, Snuggling, sleeping, The Night At Crowley's Flat (Good Omens), Drinking Summary:
a story about sleeping, in three parts
- first chapter of one of four short stories written for nanowrimo this year.
Day 28 : New places
Alt Title: Reunion
Arriving to Elbaph at last.
Sorry i'm a little late XD
Original Prompt list by gratefulcheeses
20. Metal Trinkets
Kidd - 7 | Killer - 11
Tags specifically for this chapter:
Children in danger
Sometimes, Kidd is still a child
Killer doesn't understand playing pretend
He's so confused but he's trying
Read at A03 linked above or here below cut
Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list
Kidd had a cute chubby face that meant people didn't feel guilty giving him things, and he had been slow to grow and was still very small looking for seven. He was also quick tongue and lacked any of Killer's hesitancy when it came to demanding attention. Everything about him was loud, and he just could stand in crowded streets and adults would stop to see what he needed help with.
He'd pretend to be lost, or spin them some other fantastic story, and Killer would lift items from their bags or coin purses from pockets. And then later they'd awe at their spoils and feast like Kings. Sometimes the items could get pawned for coin; sometimes they kept them, if they were small enough. A neat watch that Kidd would break almost immediately because he tried to take it apart, a box of luxury chocolates that they gorged themselves on - too sweet and rich for them in the end - and once they even pilfered a doll that ended up being far more trouble then it was worth.
Children's toys were a complete unknown to Killer; Children's games in general were a mystery to Killer, and Kidd long declared him the absolute worst at playing pirates when he'd spend most of their game correcting Kidd on the names of the parts of their non-existent boat. "No, that would be the backstay."
"It doesn't matter!"
"… but it does?" Poor Killer just could not wrap his head around Kidd's point of view, and if Kidd had anyone else to play with he'd probably have left to do so.
But, Killer was also his best friend, and Kidd thought it important that someone teach Killer how to play. So when the doll had appeared in one of the packages they'd lifted, Kidd had wanted to keep it. The problem was, playing with just the one doll between the two of them was difficult, and trying to teach Killer how to play dolls with just the one was proving to be impossible. He'd intently watch Kidd demonstrate, but when it was his turn, Killer would freeze up, and just cradled the dainty little doll like he was afraid to break it.
Stealing a second doll had so far not worked out for them - Kidd was starting to suspect Killer wasn't trying to find them another one - so Kidd took it upon himself to make one. He'd already been making little abstract things with the scrap during slow spells or when he couldn't sleep but he didn't want to wake Killer up. Killer didn't sleep though the night very often as it was, so when he did pass out during the day, Kidd was more than happy to keep watch and let him rest. Granted, making a doll was a little harder since it needed to look like something when he was done, but Kidd was pretty proud of how it was coming along.
He'd been out looking for new pieces when he'd spotted a dozen City Men in the Heaps. They'd come by from time to time to dump their trash, but normally the only ones coming this deep were ditching a body or looking for someone. Heap-folks learned to avoid them; pretend you don't see them, they pretend they don't see you.
These men didn't seem to want to follow the script, because one pointed directly at Kidd, "That red yokel, that's one of them!"
"Killer! Run!" he'd yelled back to their hovel, taking off in the opposite direction, hoping they'd follow him instead. Kidd knew the Heaps like the back of his hand, he could run this place blindfolded if he needed too. And as long as Killer wasn't nearby, Kidd was happy to -wreck- shit up without worrying his friend getting caught in his still sporadic control over his magnetism. He could -attract- things towards him without hurting himself anymore, but -repealing- was still like firing a scattershot and he hadn't figure out at all how to aim it.
Unfortunately, only about half the men took the bait, and all Kidd could do was pray Killer had enough warning. Frustratingly, the man who'd pointed at him had not been one to follow.
Kidd was small and fast, and he new all the best paths to run along, and which were filled with tripping hazards. And alone, he was free to -pull- and -push- piles to his whims to trip up or even bury his tag-alongs.
Once he was sure he'd lost his tail, he made his way back to the last place he'd seen Killer and started looking for the older boy - only to hear cursing and swearing beckoning him toward their shelter.
"WHERE IS IT!"
Kidd stuck his head over one of the lips of trash. The leader of the group was screaming at Killer who was ignoring him completely to fight with the man who was trying to keep him in a head lock. The three of them were covering in blood splatter and the man looked like he had a child size shoe print across his face. The other four men that had stayed behind with him hadn't fared so well, bodies twitching and discarded in the rubble.
Kidd froze when he recognized the knife the man was threatening with was Killer's own blade, and its very sharp point was being waved far too close to Killer's own face.
"Where is the Duck House?!"
"I dun what that means!" Killer had gasped out when the man's free had grabs a fist full of his hair, and the other man finally got his forearm successfully under Killer's chin and against his neck.
"The Duck House!" The man screams again, and the knife is going for Killer's face, and Kidd -pulls- in a panic, the blade sinking in to the trash pile as he ducked back down to hide behind once more. The two men turned and looked in the opposite direction, reasonably believing someone shot something to disarm them. There are no devil fruit users on Kutsukku after all. Those are just Grand Line myths the Marines use to trick people.
Killer however, uses the distraction to mule kick the man holding him in the groin, and is running the moment his feet hit the ground. Kidd wants to send the knife back to him, but he's terrified to hit Killer with it by mistake.
The grunt is still huddled in on himself, and his leader screams and picks up some scrap to throw after Killer. Kidd -pushes- that off course but remains otherwise crouched and hidden. He knows that Killer knows he's nearby, and no doubt will double back, so he stays down, listening, waiting. Watching.
He watched the two men tear into their home, the makeshift walls light enough for children to put into place no match for adults as they are ripped away. He bitterly watched as their meager things get tossed aside, just more trash in these men's way.
They tear apart blankets, rip open the 'pillow' Kidd and Killer share, throw clothes aside regardless of the mud. The parts to the watch Kidd was still trying to figure out get scattered, lost forever in the scrapyard.
Killer slid down next to him, panting softly, eyes a little manic from adrenaline but hands soft and steady has he checks Kidd over for injures he doesn't have. Kidd keeps watching the City Men as they destroy everything.
Finally, they make a triumphant noise, and the leader is holding out the doll relevantly, her porcelain skin dirty from her time with Kidd but intact. The man is grumbling about the state of her dress, and Kidd and Killer shoot each other dumbfounded looks.
But this doll is apparently worth the lives of most of his crew, and they go to leave, their treasure reacquired. The leader can't help but twist his heel into one of their shirts as he walks by, grinning at the sound of ripping cloth.
All this for a doll. Killer looks pissed, and Kidd can't blame him. Two on two - they could still mess this man's day up. But Kidd is also frowning at the blood dripping from Killer's nose still and touching it seems to drain all the blood-lust out of Killer's body. He just looks forlorn.
The men are getting way, but…
Kidd climbs to the top of the heap, and holds his hands out in concentration. Everything crackles around him, but he's not -calling- for anything nearby. No… he wants something much farther away. It's hard to pick the -song- of any specific piece of metal, they all -sing- pretty close to the same frequency.
Kidd finds the right song and he -calls- for it, across the yard, a large shuttering network of pipes welded together as part of a crane at some distant point in its life. It vibrates as Kidd isolates its sound, "Attract…" he muttered, concentration on just it.
The beam starts towards them. But more importantly, it starts rolling toward the men picking their way out of the Heaps, standing just below it. Killer jerks his arms down, and Kidd looses is focus on it, but it's already moving. Rolling down the hill as more clutter follows it down.
The men don't stand a chance.
Killer is draped around him, loosely pinning Kidd's arms to his sides, both boys watching and the Heaps buries those who dared cross into Her Realm uninvited.
They'll pick over their home and see if anything is salvageable, and then they'll find somewhere else and start over. Kidd never does find all the watch pieces, the tiny parts eaten by the endless yards of trash accumulated under their feet. The doll - a Duck House Doll, apparently, whatever that was supposed to mean - was destroyed along side the City Men with the trash slide, leaving Kidd with just his mostly finished doll that was meant to go with her.
He had left the unfinished project behind with the rest of their unsalvageable belongings.
A lifetime later, after Killer left him to go be a yesman for one of the City Bosses, and it was clear he wasn't coming back, Kidd had raided every cache Killer had left behind in a rage. He was angry and he just wanted to break things, and he had no more of a goal than to destroy anything the tied Killer to Kidd's turf.
Most of the caches were clothes, mostly warmer winter gear, knives, a full coin purse and usually a handful of little trinkets Kidd had made over the years. The last one Kidd would raid angry was more of the same, with one glaring exception. Inside the metal box to protect Killer's things from the elements was a well balanced dagger, it's hilt unlike the style mostly found on Kutsukku, and a flintlock pistol, polished and clean but without ammo. Both looked unused - new. The two weapons framed the last item, a long forgotten metal robot doll smiled back at him, clunky arms wrapped purposely around the drawstring coin bag with it's crudely stitched skull and crossbones.
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Minors DNI : DreamWidth Backup : : Kidd Pirate Trash :: Cross Stitching & Book Binding : : We're here, We're queer. Get used to it.
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