#jazz got so many armour design on his chest

[kairukitsuneo]

JAZZ

[randomoranges]

Perfect Cities

Dream a Little Dream

 Mid 1990’s.

 Edward stepped out of the elevator of the Belgo Gallery and walked down the corridor of the seventh floor. The tall building, located in the downtown area of Montréal, served as an art gallery for modern and contemporary art, each floor, and each room managed by different people. He passed through various open doors, making his way to the far end, where Étienne’s small gallery was. When he got there, he paused for a moment, looking through the glass door at Étienne bustle about; making sure the artwork was in place.

 The gallery wasn’t very big, built more in depth than width. Wooden floors creaked under patrons’ feet and the few pillars that supported the building made the space feel like a small maze, which Étienne used to his advantage to create fabulous tales with his exhibits.

 “Knockity, knock, knock, anyone in here?” Edward called from the other side of the glass door. He watched, amused, as Étienne emerged from behind the pillar and looked in his direction, smiling brightly. He gave an enthusiastic wave and walked towards the door, careful not to tip over the various stands along the way.

 “Eddy! I wasn’t expecting you. What a pleasant surprise. What brings you here?” Étienne flung his arms around his neck and kissed him soundly on the lips.

 Edward pulled away with a smile, resting his forehead on Étienne’s for a while. His heart beat wildly in his ribcage, still unused to these blatant displays of affection, but never minding them. Once he had control of his emotions, he thrust the brown paper bag he had brought along with him to the other man. “You forgot your lunch on the counter, dummy.” He said, soft and fond. If he had a tally for every time this happened... well, it would be a large tally.

 Étienne gave him a sheepish smile and took the bag, peeping inside. “And after you carefully packed it for me... sorry.”

 “It’s fine, but I didn’t want you to eat out again, so I brought it to you.” Sometimes, he honestly wondered if Étienne didn’t do it on purpose. At first, Edward had thought Étienne did it because he didn’t like his food, so he hadn’t bothered bringing the packed lunches to the gallery. However, after Étienne had complained one day about the subpar sandwich he had had to purchase, Edward had made it his mission to deliver the forgotten lunches to him. By now, he honestly suspected that Étienne used it as an excuse to spend his lunch break with him.

 Edward didn’t really mind.

 “My knight in shining armour.” Étienne said, kissing his cheek. “Did you brave the city streets all by yourself?”

 “Of course; I’ve been here enough times now to know how to navigate the metro. So are you going to show me around or are we gonna spend all day in the doorway?” He teased.

 “You’re right! You’ve never seen the gallery – well, not this way. Come on, I’ll give you a private tour.” Étienne took his hand and led him further into the narrow space, dodging the stands that held intricate pieces expertly.

 Edward followed close behind, a fond look on his face as Étienne chatted animatedly about the new set up, and how it would benefit the space he had. They stopped at Étienne’s desk to drop off the packed lunch and from there, without letting go of his hand, Étienne walked him through the current exhibition, through the careful path he had designed. He explained each piece briefly, weaving a connecting story between the first and the next, slowly revealing the larger picture the pieces were part of.

 There were the brightly coloured orbs in varying shades of warm colours, made of glass, which Étienne told him were a representation of the sun throughout the year – the darker, warmer ones for summer, the lighter ones for winter. Then, the next piece, not even done by the same artist, was a series of metal flowers, dipped in different colours. The theme, Étienne told him, as they carefully wove their way to the back of the space, was Rebirth and Edward could see how it fit with the pieces and the layout.

 There was only Étienne who could bring abstract art to life the way he did. Edward could listen to him talk for hours. He loved how Étienne became animated, talking about the artwork he had carefully chosen for his little art gallery. Edward could tell how much the other man enjoyed doing this and for that, he was glad. Seeing Étienne so happy and enthused quickened his heartbeat and he made it a point to visit whenever there was a new exhibition, letting Étienne guide him through the artwork, immersing himself in his lover’s world.

 “So, how long do I have you for?” Étienne asked him, at the end of the tour.

 Edward blinked and looked at him, frowning slightly, trying to figure out what he meant by that. “I am not having sex with you in your gallery; once was enough.” He bristled. Had it not been for the security guard that had walked in on them, perhaps Edward would have agreed to a repeat performance, but he could still vividly recall the man’s mortified face and just thinking about it sent him down the road of embarrassment.

 Étienne laughed, swatting at his chest playfully, but shook his head. “I wasn’t suggesting that, silly. Sheesh, now who’s the one with his head in the gutter?” He joked.

 “Okay, well, what were you suggesting?” He recovered, putting those thoughts aside.

 “Well, since it’s nearly lunch time, I thought maybe you could stay and we could have a picnic? I know you always pack too much for me.”

 There was fondness in his tone and Edward knew he shouldn’t be embarrassed by this anymore, not after the many years he had spent with Étienne, but his cheeks pinked nonetheless.

 “Don’t want you to get hungry, that’s all.” He mumbled.

 Étienne caressed his cheek, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his lips and Edward knew he was gone for this man. Étienne had discovered with time that Edward conveyed his feelings through the food he made him and that there was careful thought put into everything he packed. He was immensely touched by the gesture and truly treasured every meal Edward made for him, even the sandwiches.

 “I know and I think it’s sweet. But since you’re here, care to join me?”

 “Yeah, okay, why not?”

 Étienne looked delighted and Edward hoped he could be the reason for that look for a very long time. They walked back to the far left side of the gallery, where Étienne kept his desk behind more glass doors. Étienne had explained to him, once, on Edward’s first visit to the gallery that he liked the idea of the glass doors for he could always see what was going on in the space. At the same time, the doors helped define the area between gallery and desk and it gave him room to work, while not being cut off from the place he loved.

 Étienne picked up the scattered books, pictures, pencils, pens, brochures and magazines that littered his workspace and dumped them into a drawer for the time being. He cleared the table of the various application forms Edward had seen laying on Étienne’s kitchen table and then he rummaged through a cupboard to pull out a tablecloth.

 “Do you often have picnics with your patrons, Mr. Maisonneuve?” Edward asked, eyeing the many different tablecloths that were in the cupboard.

 Edward’s tone was light and Étienne rolled his eyes at him in fond exasperation. “Absolutely not, but if you recall, I had a show last year that required many tablecloths. I kept them for such occasions. Now, be a dear and get me the dishes and cutlery from the cabinet next to you.”

 Edward did as he was told and the two of them set up their impromptu picnic table in companionable silence. There was a thermos of still steaming soup, a small container of mixed cut up fruit, some cheese and crackers, a small variety of three different types of sandwiches and a bowl of salad with the dressing it its own, smaller, container. Edward filled up the two crystal water glasses Étienne liked to keep around and when everything was set, they sat down across from each other to dig into the meal.

 “You’ve spoiled me once more, Mr. Murphy. I’m truly a lucky man.” Étienne told him around a spoonful of soup.

 “You know I don’t mind.” He murmured, sincere. The truth of the matter was that he liked spoiling Étienne with his food and his attention. Étienne had been there for him when no one else had and being with him had helped so much. Edward felt at ease with him and he hoped, through each carefully packed lunch, that Étienne could understand that.

 “I know, but you didn’t have to get up so early to make fresh soup. Not that I don’t appreciate it.” Étienne reached for his hand across the table and twined their fingers together.

 Edward held on, butterflies dancing in his stomach, enjoying the warmth that Étienne’s fingers gave. Moments like these, when it was just the two of them sharing a quiet lunch were his favourite. He felt close to Étienne in a way he never imagined he could and Étienne’s solid presence, even with just their hands touching, was grounding. “I tried to be discreet.” He admitted.

 “And it would have worked, had it not been for the fact that I couldn’t find you in bed when I turned around to snuggle you. That and the apartment smelt really good.”

 Edward laughed at that and squeezed Étienne’s hand. “Then I promise to let you snuggle me next time.”

 From across the table, Étienne beamed.

 The rest of lunch was spent in quiet conversation, catching up and enjoying the other’s company. They talked about trivial little things; Edward’s ride into the city, a new jazz band Étienne was slowly falling in love with, the encounter Edward had at the Jean-Talon market with an elderly Italian woman, and so on. It was nice, ideal really. Lunches like these were both their favourites and it allowed them to pause their hectic lives and enjoy the quietude and comfort of the moment. Edward helped Étienne clear the dishes afterwards and then he had to head out to run some errands.

 “I guess I’ll see you tonight?”

 “I sure hope so. You’ll be okay navigating the city?” Étienne asked, draping his arms around Edward’s neck. His lover held him close and rubbed his back gently.

 “Of course; your noble knight shall tame the metro system.”

 Étienne laughed and kissed him again. “Be good, have fun.”

 “I will, promise.”

 They walked back to the main door of the gallery and they both lingered a little, not wanting the moment to really end.

 “See you later.”

 “Be careful.” Étienne cautioned one last time.

 “���Love you.” Edward murmured in his ear after one more quick hug. He stepped back in time to notice the pink in Étienne’s cheeks. The look of surprise on his face was endearing to him and Edward couldn’t help himself, stepping close to steal one last kiss from Étienne’s partially open mouth.

 “Me too.” Étienne whispered back, slightly dazed.

 Then, with a final wave, Edward headed out, whistling to himself.

 --

 He noticed the tears before he realised he was awake. Thick and fat they spilled from his eyes as the bedroom’s ceiling slowly came into focus.

 Edward felt his heart sink as a wave of sadness crashed over him. He knew that he could never have what he really longed for, but having seen it in his dream – having thought for one glorious moment that it had been real, Edward felt as though he had been punched in the stomach, breath ripped out of him.

 But he knew.

 He knew after so many years with Étienne that this could never be. He knew and had known that Étienne, the man he had slowly fallen in love with, did not do relationships. He knew, because Étienne had told him, once, almost two decades ago. The problem was that Edward had slowly but surely fallen for Étienne – his easy smile, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the brightness of his eyes, his soft, plush lips, his loud laugh and his gentle hands. Edward had fallen faster than he had realised for the well-hidden side of Étienne and deep down, he knew he could never have more.

 His dream was a reflection of everything he yearned for with a man who simply didn’t do any of those things.

 And then there were those times – little moments – when Étienne would look at him a certain way or say a certain thing that would send Edward’s heart racing. Times when Étienne would hold him just a little longer, kiss him just a little slower, and Edward would dare to hope that it meant as much to Étienne as it did to him. But those moments never lasted long, something else always coming up – meetings, encounters, distance, words...

 He wiped at his eyes, trying to stop the increasing feeling of emptiness and sorrow that had crept up on him, before he turned to his side.

 Beside him, Étienne slept on soundly, oblivious to his turmoil and to his feelings. Edward bit back the sob that threatened to escape and instead made himself small in Étienne’s arms, letting the weight of his slumbering warmth still his heavy heart.

 He knew, on some logical level that he could call it quits. He could leave anytime he wanted. He didn’t need to suffer through this, but the problem was he didn’t want to leave. Most of the time, really, almost the majority of the time, Étienne made happy. However, there were times like today, when Étienne would let his eyes linger on some passing man, or woman, that made Edward question himself and what he had with Étienne all over again.

 Dreams like the one he just had weren’t new to him, but each one was another blow – another reminder of the thing he really wanted and the one he could never have. Not here, not with Étienne.

 He could leave. He knew he could. He could always search elsewhere, but he was a stupid man in love with Étienne, and he still dared to dream that Étienne felt the same.

 If he willed his mind around it, he could almost fool himself into believing that the feelings were mutual for just a little longer, long enough for the dream not to end.

 FIN 37

 Started writing: April 17th 2017, 3:53pm

Finished writing: April 17th 2017, 6:08pm

Started typing: April 24th 2017, 3:42pm

Finished typing: April 24th 2017, 4:43pm

[breezytealy]

Question: do you have headcanons about which kanji/symbols the next-gen uses on their gis/fighting clothes?

:O

What have I done recently to deserve such wonderful questions, thank you so much for thinking of me! I do have some (read: many) thoughts - most definite, some I’m still mulling over trying to balance characterisation so they may change if they appear later in the infinite expanse of the “Super7AU/Groundbreaking Science”, haha! Please hit me up with yours too everyone :D!

(answer under the cut, if you’re on mobile you may have to click through to the blog, sorry but long answer X’D)

I feel like Chichi would make the actual gis up for people? I mean, Piccolo could magic them I know but there’s something amazing about the effort gone into hand making something. It’s feels nice. And they’re all p much family any way!

( Re actual symbols - they’re supposed to be for when you finish your training under a school, right? That was my understanding. If so —)

In no particular order

Uub - Goku’s ‘Go’ 悟 symbol. Whilst he does have a Goku-esque gi, (that green from GT needs a showing!) he will often default to the warrior’s garb from his home island, like at End of Z? The lustrous reddish-brown colour is from the tannins of the yellow mangroves that the island is famous for. :) He’s also got the P for Papayaman on his Papayaman outfit’s helmet - can’t forget that one!

Marron - I have her training and having been trained with ki, but not to act in front line, so her gi doesn’t often get blasted to pieces! It’s well looked after (any repairs needed are done neatly), and mimics her father’s style and colouring (but with wrist-length sleeves to reduce the possibility of obvious scratches from a fight). She has the good-old turtle symbol 亀 to recognise her Dad and his training, though he won’t restart the school until Age 821 (when he’s NINETY FIVE GO DAD).

Goten - He doesn’t seem to have one EoZ, but I can see him having Go 悟 for a while but asking to change it to Son. Whilst Chichi doesn’t have Son as a surname, Goten thought ‘Son’ 孫 included her more than just the Go of Goku and Gohan, and she blubbed. He’ll try and repair his when he can to be nice with surprisingly neat stitching… for the first five minutes! Often he’ll end up using any-old colour thread as it does the job, which makes Pan shake her head. He changes the symbol to King Kai’s (界王 stacked) for a while after he has a brief, uh, surprise, stint in the afterlife, mostly just to rub it in people’s faces he’s had godly training. He stopped after Trunks pointed out he was advertising the fact he was an idiot to get killed once.

Pan - if she was going to put all the badges on she’d look like a NASCAR driver. There’s training with her Dad, Grampa, Master Roshi, Piccolo and of course Gramps (he may not be a ki user, but he has valuable skills to pass on)! And that’s not forgetting learning from Grandma and her Mom, picking things up from Goten and Trunks, even Vegeta when she’d tag along to Bra’s torture sessions. She has a lot of gis, especially as she’s running the Pan Fighting Network so will spend all day in them sometimes. If she’s training with a former teacher she’ll wear their name out of respect, but when she has to grab something with a second’s notice? It’ll be the handmade one from Grandma Chichi, with ‘Son’ 孫 on the front over the heart, and the ‘Ma’ 魔 of Demon King Piccolo on the back that the bad guys can read and weep as she walks away from their broken ass.

Trunks - Has a gi (not from Chichi), but mostly for training/just to have one and interchanges with general gym stuff for training really. Will definitely go for Saiyan formal wear for the big fights, grey skin-tight with the white and gold chest armour. He has the shoulders removed not to restrict his sword movements, so very Resurrection F Vegeta in style, but has two little golden slots/nubs on the shoulders where, traditionally, a royal cape/train is supposed to go. By Age 801, after Geets and Goku leave for their final fight, Trunks is the defacto King, after all! He does have the cape! But he wore it like twice to scare the shit out of people who Knew of Saiyans and it’s just not come out the closet since. He wears the Vegeta royal crest on his armour (Though I’d like to try a combination of the crest and CC but I can’t nail a design and it’s driving me crazy)

Bra - Much the same as her bro! Though older uniform with slightly more length in the armour, less in the arms and legs of the blue skin-tight. No chunky boots for Bra, either very tight low-rise boots (not quite tai chi slippers, more sneakers I guess???) or straight up barefoot - she takes a very physical, brawler approach to fighting. She also wears the royal crest. And nail polish. Don’t forget the nail polish. She won’t damage it at all, trust her.

The crest has dual meanings - in the first case, (and I did have the associated weapons names for this but it’s midnight and I can’t find them so whoops) the outer is a pinning kind of weapon - corner your enemy first (around the neck). The inner trident is saying to then go in for the kill with a weapon that, with the barbs, will be impossible to extract and would have to be torn out, doing massive damage. :D  The second meaning is a flower - with three main petals and two leaves near the flower itself - that grew on planet Salada. It only blooms on blood-soaked battlefields - triggered by the iron to exit dormancy as it ‘knows’ the decaying bodies the blood is from will nourish it and its seeds. The idea being the wearers are fresh from a battlefield they just survived. Both meanings are equally awesome to Trunks and Bra.

Mai - STILL rocking the coat, although occasionally a jumpsuit (tough like a motorcyclists, with utility belt and all that jazz) should that be more suitable for the challenge ahead. Symbols are Pilaf’s star (he wouldn’t let her get rid of it, not like she’d want to) and CC underneath :).

They all completely separately have “allblacks” - full head-to-toe jump suits made with a Vantablack-like material that absorbs all light. They wear them to go unidentified helping out in times of natural disasters (can’t wish people back from natural deaths and I guess death by nature is pretty natural) and the unnerving property of the suits earn them the nickname Shadows. It doesn’t help matters that they deliberately don’t speak to the public in uniform (Trunks and Bra would be instantly twigged being so famous), so kids in particular are obsessed and yet terrified off them x’D. Sadly no visible logo given the material, but there is an obnoxious CC for Capsule Corp on the arm that can be felt in the form of stitching should you know what you’re looking (feeling) out for!