Angels in Nagasaki (Work in Progress for Prompt Exchange #8)
Mar 26, 2017 16:38:05 GMT
Mikauzoran likes this
Post by Ran-dezvous on Mar 26, 2017 16:38:05 GMT
Title: Angels in Nagasaki (subject to change)
Author: Ran-dezvous
Fandom: Detective Conan
Prompt: Vermouth and a case of mistaken identity.
Rating: T/PG-13
Genres: Drama, Crime, General
Disclaimer: Aoyama Gosho owns the rights to <i>Detective Conan,</i> but he's cool with fans writing fanfiction, yay!
Summary: Vermouth is sent on a covert mission to Nagasaki: a historical port city filled with Portuguese and Dutch influences, a hub of Roman Catholicism in Japan, and was one of the cities attacked by an atomic bomb during World War II. She is tasked to investigate a potential candidate to replace Sherry, much to her chagrin, but her job turns out not to be as straightforward as she thought it would be. . . .
Notes: This prompt was, honestly, a real challenge for me, and part of me actually regretted signing up for this prompt exchange. I'd never written Vermouth in any capacity at all, and all my initial ideas involved spoilers. A million thanks to Mikauzoran for helping me think about the prompt in a different way, for patiently answering all my questions, and for all the encouragement, despite her busy schedule. This potentially multi-chaptered fic wouldn't exist without you.
I say potentially because while I certainly do have enough ideas, concepts, and plot to expand on, logic is telling me to be prudent and stick to writing a lengthy oneshot because (a) I'm a very slow writer; (b) I'm terrible at writing fics chronologically; (c) I've never succeeded in finishing any of my multichapters before; and (d) I'm accountable to my prompter. On the other hand, my muse is absolutely begging me to, but I have a really bad feeling it's only a case of ningas cogon (short-lived passion). It's definitely happened to me before.
Below are the first 508 words of my WIP. I hope the excess eight words are okay, as the first scene was about to end, anyway. I apologize for the roughness and for any factual inaccuracies; I haven't had much time to research and mostly relied on what I remembered from my Asian history class back in high school, as well as stuff I've read from various travel articles and saw on travel shows. I hope it's not too cringeworthy, and any criticism is always welcome.
A few hours in the world-famous port city of Nagasaki was more than enough for her to decide that she, quite simply, didn't like the place. At all. August in this area of southern Japan was much too hot and humid compared to Tokyo in the north; sticky sweat clung to her body as tightly as an adoring lover firmly grasping another lover's hand. Getting from Point A to Point B wasn't as convenient as it was in Tokyo (although she had to admit that Nagasaki's public-transportation system was far superior to that of her beloved New York, not to mention it was much cleaner). She wasn't enthused by the old-world European charm of the cobblestone lanes; they made walking in heels a painstaking chore. While each of these things was, individually, only a mere annoyance, when combined altogether, however, they made for a very grumpy woman.
She didn't know or care about the smoking laws in this city (many places in Tokyo banned smoking outside of designated areas), but she was going to have a smoke right here, right now, as far as she was concerned. All this stress was making her crave for nicotine. She was very well aware of the ill effects of this habit on one's health, but since her physiology was far different than that of the general population, they didn't faze her one bit. If she was going to get cancer or emphysema or whatever, it would've happened a long time ago. Hell, had nature taken its course, she should be dead by now, or, at very least, be some shriveled, old lady counting her last days on earth, awaiting the Grim Reaper.
Ugh, she hated the mess she got herself into. She hated that wretched Silver Bullet project; she hated the Miyano parents and their daughter Sherry; she hated how all of her attempts to finish the latter off had all been in vain. After living several years with an extended lifespan, she no longer agreed with the Organization's goal anymore; were it not for the personal connection she had with That Person, she would've destroyed the Organization herself, killing its leaders without a millimeter of hesitation or remorse.
Now, due to her circumstances, she won't be able to kill any of her fellow agents, but she could, however, get rid of the person she's supposed to investigate: a medical doctor and professor at Nagasaki University rumored to be involved in underground eugenics and transhumanist groups. The Organization needed a replacement for Sherry, and That Person considered him a potential candidate for the job. Not on her watch.
In fact, maybe she'll just skip the investigation altogether and kill her target ASAP. Or not. She knew all too well that finishing her job too quickly might lead to suspicions, and it didn't really help that RUM was busy hunting down the rats. . . . Fine, she'll do her job and investigate that professor, but, if those rumors do turn out to be true, then . . .
A satisfied smirk finally emerged on her face. Bye bye.
Author: Ran-dezvous
Fandom: Detective Conan
Prompt: Vermouth and a case of mistaken identity.
Rating: T/PG-13
Genres: Drama, Crime, General
Disclaimer: Aoyama Gosho owns the rights to <i>Detective Conan,</i> but he's cool with fans writing fanfiction, yay!
Summary: Vermouth is sent on a covert mission to Nagasaki: a historical port city filled with Portuguese and Dutch influences, a hub of Roman Catholicism in Japan, and was one of the cities attacked by an atomic bomb during World War II. She is tasked to investigate a potential candidate to replace Sherry, much to her chagrin, but her job turns out not to be as straightforward as she thought it would be. . . .
Notes: This prompt was, honestly, a real challenge for me, and part of me actually regretted signing up for this prompt exchange. I'd never written Vermouth in any capacity at all, and all my initial ideas involved spoilers. A million thanks to Mikauzoran for helping me think about the prompt in a different way, for patiently answering all my questions, and for all the encouragement, despite her busy schedule. This potentially multi-chaptered fic wouldn't exist without you.
I say potentially because while I certainly do have enough ideas, concepts, and plot to expand on, logic is telling me to be prudent and stick to writing a lengthy oneshot because (a) I'm a very slow writer; (b) I'm terrible at writing fics chronologically; (c) I've never succeeded in finishing any of my multichapters before; and (d) I'm accountable to my prompter. On the other hand, my muse is absolutely begging me to, but I have a really bad feeling it's only a case of ningas cogon (short-lived passion). It's definitely happened to me before.
Below are the first 508 words of my WIP. I hope the excess eight words are okay, as the first scene was about to end, anyway. I apologize for the roughness and for any factual inaccuracies; I haven't had much time to research and mostly relied on what I remembered from my Asian history class back in high school, as well as stuff I've read from various travel articles and saw on travel shows. I hope it's not too cringeworthy, and any criticism is always welcome.
A few hours in the world-famous port city of Nagasaki was more than enough for her to decide that she, quite simply, didn't like the place. At all. August in this area of southern Japan was much too hot and humid compared to Tokyo in the north; sticky sweat clung to her body as tightly as an adoring lover firmly grasping another lover's hand. Getting from Point A to Point B wasn't as convenient as it was in Tokyo (although she had to admit that Nagasaki's public-transportation system was far superior to that of her beloved New York, not to mention it was much cleaner). She wasn't enthused by the old-world European charm of the cobblestone lanes; they made walking in heels a painstaking chore. While each of these things was, individually, only a mere annoyance, when combined altogether, however, they made for a very grumpy woman.
She didn't know or care about the smoking laws in this city (many places in Tokyo banned smoking outside of designated areas), but she was going to have a smoke right here, right now, as far as she was concerned. All this stress was making her crave for nicotine. She was very well aware of the ill effects of this habit on one's health, but since her physiology was far different than that of the general population, they didn't faze her one bit. If she was going to get cancer or emphysema or whatever, it would've happened a long time ago. Hell, had nature taken its course, she should be dead by now, or, at very least, be some shriveled, old lady counting her last days on earth, awaiting the Grim Reaper.
Ugh, she hated the mess she got herself into. She hated that wretched Silver Bullet project; she hated the Miyano parents and their daughter Sherry; she hated how all of her attempts to finish the latter off had all been in vain. After living several years with an extended lifespan, she no longer agreed with the Organization's goal anymore; were it not for the personal connection she had with That Person, she would've destroyed the Organization herself, killing its leaders without a millimeter of hesitation or remorse.
Now, due to her circumstances, she won't be able to kill any of her fellow agents, but she could, however, get rid of the person she's supposed to investigate: a medical doctor and professor at Nagasaki University rumored to be involved in underground eugenics and transhumanist groups. The Organization needed a replacement for Sherry, and That Person considered him a potential candidate for the job. Not on her watch.
In fact, maybe she'll just skip the investigation altogether and kill her target ASAP. Or not. She knew all too well that finishing her job too quickly might lead to suspicions, and it didn't really help that RUM was busy hunting down the rats. . . . Fine, she'll do her job and investigate that professor, but, if those rumors do turn out to be true, then . . .
A satisfied smirk finally emerged on her face. Bye bye.