anime: hack twilight
when: does it matter?
where: alternate world, completely different circumstances, as you most likely could already tell.
pairings: that really should not even be questioned, anymore
rating: let's go with T for right now, but it will reach M sooner or later.
disclaimer: i don't own rena, shugo, or balmung, or any other terms that may seem familiar to you. when those come up, i'll let you know.

have fun reading the new version, revamped as of 7.19.08.

?

prologue: addo

My father, by pure corruption of power and money, was a tyrant, a dictator. He opposed all those who let themselves be governed and moved by the matters of the heart, by relation of blood and kin. He followed in the footsteps of all the men that are now seen as horrible, inexcusable, inexplicable. He believed in doing all it took to rise to ultimate power, and killing all those who stepped in his way, even if it meant his most trusted partners. Even if it meant his own wife.

It began with her, my mother, sixteen years ago.

Almost two decades ago, he was just an honest man living a dishonest life, trying to get by, trying to survive. He put food on all our plates, kept us safe at night without a worry. There just the occasional deal, the occasional trafficking. Like every average american man, he had something illegal happening, whether it was drugs, whether it was illegal work, whether it was stealing, whether it was even as simple as sneaking a few extra bucks into your pocket before going home at night.

Then things started to change.

People began to show up at our doorstep, looming and dark and very dangerous looking. They walked in without word, without bothering to acknowledge me with more than a glance. Once, they didn't notice I was there until a dark man kicked my shin in mid-stride. They left just as silently, just as quickly, just as ominously and dangerous.

Threats and demand became more prominent to the point where my mother, my sister and I started to become the targets just as often as my father was. My father turned a blind eye to them all, calling them good-natured jokes between friends and business partners.

My mother didn't like it. She had blue eyes and blond hair, a beautiful example of the "Aryan" race at best with high cheekbones and pale skin, that drew my father to her.

She packed her things, tucked away many of mine and my sister's belongings underneath hers for fear that he would refuse to let his children go as well. But that had turned out to be the very least of her worries and she tried to flee without warning, without me, without Cecilia.

Then, when I was twelve, he killed her.

Right in front of me and my sister.

i'm getting there,

just so you know. i'm working on things.
-wrecked.