Nanoha FanFiction Discussion

[spawnofthejudge]

Originally Posted by DezoPenguin

Blood and Spirit

You've now made it so that if Fairy!Lindy doesn't show up, I'm gonna cry.

Page claim for Lyrical Toy Box!

[RadiantBeam]

Originally Posted by spawnofthejudge

You've now made it so that if Fairy!Lindy doesn't show up, I'm gonna cry.

Page claim for Lyrical Toy Box!

...

Why no, I'm not contemplating a story/plot with Nanoha meeting Fairy!Lindy and quite possibly an Evil!Chrono. Whatever gave you that stupid idea?

[synaesthetic]

For Nanoha, being the captain and magical training instructor for an extraterrestrial military organization is not that far from normal.

[DezoPenguin]

Originally Posted by synaesthetic

For Nanoha, being the captain and magical training instructor for an extraterrestrial military organization is not that far from normal.

Yeah, pretty much what I was getting at. That girl's life was weird enough before the magic stopped by to say hello.

...

RB, don't tell me you've been attacked by another plotbunny?!? They're breeding, I tell you, breeding!

[RadiantBeam]

Originally Posted by DezoPenguin

RB, don't tell me you've been attacked by another plotbunny?!? They're breeding, I tell you, breeding!

It's not my fault! Triangle Heart inspires me... I mean, BtBR is a partial crossover with the OVA series, and "Sisters" uses the background information that Miyuki is Nanoha's cousin!

[itanshi1]

I thought they were half sisters. o.o;

[DezoPenguin]

Originally Posted by RadiantBeam

It's not my fault! Triangle Heart inspires me... I mean, BtBR is a partial crossover with the OVA series, and "Sisters" uses the background information that Miyuki is Nanoha's cousin!

Which reminds me, considering "Sisters"...Miyuki is also one of Kyouya's possible love interests in Triangle Heart 3 (though Shinobu is the "canon" ending)...which sets up another kind of triangle...

Shiro: This is not how we raised you to behave!

Momoko: *sniffle* We're such awful parents!

Hayate (filming): I'd have to disagree with that...

Edit: Itanshi, the complete family roster is:

Kyouya--son of Shiro Takamachi and Shiro's first wife.

Miyuki--daughter of Misato Mikami and a deceased father (I don't know if Misato is Shiro's sister or the sister of Shiro's first wife); she was adopted by Shiro.

Nanoha--daughter of Shiro Takamachi and Shiro's second wife, Momoko.

Nanoha and Kyouya are half-siblings (same father), while Miyuki is only a cousin by blood, though an adopted sibling.

[RadiantBeam]

Originally Posted by itanshi1

I thought they were half sisters. o.o;

According to TH canon, they're cousins. Miyuki was adopted by the Takamachi family when she was young.

Originally Posted by DezoPenguin

Which reminds me, considering "Sisters"...Miyuki is also one of Kyouya's possible love interests in Triangle Heart 3 (though Shinobu is the "canon" ending)...which sets up another kind of triangle...

Shiro: This is not how we raised you to behave!

Momoko: *sniffle* We're such awful parents!

Hayate (filming): I'd have to disagree with that...

Don't start with that, dammit! You'll inspire me! Again! XD;;

[synaesthetic]

If Misato is the sister of Shiro's first wife, then Miyuki isn't related to Nanoha at all. Which means it's not incest. Or something.

Edit: And remembering Toraha, Misato doesn't look anything like Shiro.

[TheShinySword]

*coughs* It's not really incest in the first place since there's not Cousin-cousin taboo in Japan.

[MeisterBabylon]

It doesn't matter even if it's siblings, otherwise where did the "sister-not-related-by-blood-moe" trope come from?

GahevenI'mgettingoverrunbyplotbunniesSOMEBODYSTOPM EH!!! BD

[itanshi1]

Well, I learned some things today. Thanks for that ^^

I don't think I'm going to make note of that extra complication in familial ties in my AU story, tho.

[kaname08]

Speaking of which...in regards to what I mentioned before about possible plans for writing a lemon, I suppose I could try and explain as to how it would eventually lead to that.

Thing is...one of my characters, who sort of acts a bit wild and too sure of himself at times was staying up one night a bit too long reading, and as a result...the next day when he goes to get himself fixed up, he goes into the wrong bathroom, causing the girls to get REALLY pissed off.

Later on, one of my main characters gets called into Hayate's office on details regarding a mission that he has to undergo. Upon arrival...he spots a box that is partially opened and he inquires about it. Hayate explains that it's a suit to play a little "prank" on Fate and she quickly shows him the suit. He of course is in shock at first, considering he knows it's for BDSM and that logically, one of the two captains seems to be dominant. Hayate tells my main OC to promise not to tell Fate about it, but she eventually finds out at some point.

Just to let you guys know, since I just gave a slight clue...you might know what type of suit I'm referring to.

I plan on using that suit a couple of times for humor, before I actually use it in a lemon. And of course...later on in one of my chapters...Fate hatches a plan to "re-pay" Hayate on her little "joke". [That's when I'll put the notice for a possible lemon in the near future at the end].

[TheShinySword]

*pokes head in* Okay... here's the deal this... hmm... well actually read it first then I'll tell you the deal

Spoiler for Someone for... everyone?:

Low lighting was said to be dangerous on one's eyes, most definitely not ideal for careful work. Yet, Jail Scaglietti only lit up his study (this room, unlike his numerous laboratories was just for him and not any of his creations) with a single, lonesome and quite dim, lamp. He sat at his desk, not minding that every moment spent scribbling on a piece of paper was slowly causing decay to his eyeballs. He liked glasses anyway.

Jail was in the midst of “very important business”. None of the numbers, several of whom were posed around the door, their ears and eyes at the crack where they could only see his hunched form, had any clue what he did in there except run through a lot of paper. All they knew was Jail was not to be disturbed when he was in there, as Uno had warned them. She was the only number who'd ever entered there.

Wendi theorized that he spent his time writing romance novels. The theory might have been sound had she not insisted they had to be romance novels. Nove had been quick to point out the fact the idea of the Doctor writing a romance novel was not only ridiculous but impossible. After all the Doctor had no such experience... right?

That was why numbers VI, IX, X (having been dragged there) and XI were gathered around the door. They couldn't actually hear or see much of anything. But Sein had proposed a new theory, and that was what they were trying to find truth to. She suggested that perhaps the Doctor was... writing love letters.

It seemed possible enough. He was a young (they guessed, no one actually knew the doctors' age), handsome (okay so they didn't have much experience with too many other men), and mostly, probably, kinda sane guy. The idea that he had a girlfriend off somewhere wasn't too unlikely.

“I can't see the Doctor involved in any such relationship,” Deici spoke bluntly, never one to use one more word than necessary. She stood off to the side. The taciturn Number wasn't there by choice but rather by force, though it wasn't like she had anything better to do.

“Aww~ you're no fun,” Wendi pouted and wiggled closer to the door, hoping to hear a wistful sigh or something of the sort. “It's so romantic. The lonesome scientist, holed up in his lab~ thinking the whole time of his one true love.”

“It's ridiculous,” Nove scoffed, “besides, the doctor has us. He doesn't need another woman.”

“Well there are just some kind of things the Doctor can't get from us,” Sein smiled mischievously then giggling at the sight of her sisters' confused faces. “You know lik-”

“Ahem.”

The four younger numbers all snapped to attention, pretending that they most definitely had not been spying on Jail.

“T-Tre-nee-sama, Cinque-nee-sama.”

“It's good to see you all so lively,” Cinque scratched her neck, “but really... what exactly do you lot think you're doing?”

“...” Not a single one of them could come up with a suitable answer.

Fortunately they were spared from having to.

Jail's door slid open, the man himself standing in the doorway. If he found it odd that half of his Numbers were outside his door he didn't let it show. Instead he stuffed something in his pocket and started walking down the hall, seemingly ignoring his creations until he called back, “I'm headed out for a while, just relax.” With a lazy wave their mysterious master disappeared down the hall.

“Wow,” Wendi watched the space where he'd been, “I guess the Doctor must have been doing something super important.”





Jail pulled the piece of scrap from his pocket, looking it over as he went to his car. “Milk, Sugar, Apples, Motor Oil, Tea...”

~~~

This was nice. Relaxing really. Uno was always trying to help relieve Jail's stress. Whether she was trying to give him a massage or draw up a warm bath, it seemed she thought it was her responsibility. It was a pity none of those things worked really. But Jail had found his relief. He'd found it in the brightly lit aisles of the nearest super market. There was something therapeutic about the rap rap rap of the carts wheels against the tiled floor.

Of course it was incredibly risky for a high profile criminal to go waltzing around the supermarket. He'd already just barely escaped capture from three different grocery stores. The fact that he never bothered to change out of his lab coat didn't help. Uno had told him not to risk it but Jail felt no real fear.

This was a new grocery store for him. As a result he wasn't quite sure where anything was. It didn't help that the store was one of those places that really put the SUPER in supermarket. He could easily get lost there and he did. Jail spent a good twenty minutes in the cereal aisle wondering if he should buy the giant box of Flix, or the variety pack of three different types.

It took Jail a good three hours to get through his list, mostly because of his tendency to be indecisive when it came to a good sale. But by the end of those three hours he had not one but two carts worth of supplies. Perfect. He waited patiently in line, flipping through a trashy rag, a guilty pleasure of his. Apparently there was some sort of story about some “Aces' love dodecahedron” Jail couldn't imagine such a thing could exist but curiosity made him throw the magazine in.

The scientist piled his groceries onto the conveyor belt, there were quite a few of them so he ended up stacking. He paid without even looking up, it was best to meet the eyes of as few people as possible. Jail's total was less then he'd expected, the skill of his sale-fu was stronger then he'd thought. He was almost done when something hit his ear.

In a voice so small, so soft had there been any other noise it would have been drowned out. “Would you like paper or plastic sir?”

Baa-dum.

Never in his life had there been a moment Jail hadn't been thinking. Even in his dreams he was always plotting and planning. It wasn't his fault really. It was a side effect of his infinite greed, he eternally thought of ways to get more and more and more but- for the first time. His brain shut down.

Baa-dum.

It just ceased function. It was a simple question. Two options. Paper or Plastic? Both options would result in the same end result Jail taking his groceries back to his secret hideout.

Baa-dum.

But his brain couldn't form an answer. He looked up at the questioner, the bagger, his mouth opening and closing like a dying fish for what seemed an eternity.

Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum.

She was absolutely nothing like any of his Combat Cyborgs. That was the first cognitive thought that entered his head. It had nothing to do with the question still hanging in the air, paper or plastic. No, the first thought in his head was about her. She was smaller then any of his creations. Save for Cinque but he didn't count Cinque. This woman was definitely a woman, unlike Cinque who, as he'd apologized for many times, would never quite breach what was accepted as childhood.

Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum.

Maria. The girl's name tag read Maria. Jail estimated she was slightly less than five feet tall. Her hair was brown with just a tinge of red. She was Mid-Childian by birth, judging by her physical characteristics. Likely from the so- Wait. What was he doing? Why did he suddenly start profiling her?

Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum.

And what on Mid was wrong with his heart rate? It was going wild. His palms were starting to sweat as well and he suddenly became conscious of the fact he hadn't washed his hair in a week.

Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum.

“Sir? Paper or plastic?” She timidly repeated her question.

Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum.

“PRALASTIPER!” Jail blurted out, having no clue at all what he was saying.

“Okay,” and she promptly put his groceries in paper sacks the put those sacks in plastic ones. “Have a nice day.” Her smile radiated with the intensity of a thousand chemical explosions.

Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum.

Jail drove home faster then he ever had before.

~~~

“UNO!” After unloading his groceries with a speed previously unbeknown to him, he'd research that later, the scientist stomped through his base, searching for his second in command.

“Yes sir?” Uno looked up from the book she had been reading, she didn't have time to even put in a bookmark before Jail dragged her off to his quarters leaving a ten confuzzled mechanical girls in his wake.

Jail collapsed in his chair then looked up at Uno with a solemn expression. “Uno, I am very ill.”

Concerned entered Uno's face, “What? Doctor how? What are your symptoms?”

Jail looked grim. “Elevated heart rate. Sudden perspiration. Instant loss of cognitive function.”

The concern started to float away, replaced by an almost... amused expression. “And what brought on your... illness?”

The doctor stroked his chin, “that's the thing. Nothing really. This girl asked me if I wanted paper or plastic. And then... my mind went blank and my heart started going crazy.”

“...girl?”

“Small, probably twenty, twenty one. Brunette, trace of red. Funny little scar on her cheek, wearing just a touch of eyeshadow-”

Uno blinked, “You remembered all that?” This coming from the man who weekly “forgot” to put his laundry in the basket. Then she started giggling.

Jail was taken aback. He couldn't remember Uno... giggling... ever. “Well? What is it? What do you suppose I've got?”

“Doctor,” Her giggle fit ended but her smile didn't. “I think you're just a tad in love.”

“Oh, I'm in love. That makes sense.” Pleased with that explanation and with the fact he was, in fact, not dying Jail spun his chair around to go to work at his desk. Then it hit him. The reality of what he had just said.

“I'm in WHAT?!?!?”

Spoiler for A/N:

So I'm listening to Skullcrusher Mountain by Jonathan Coulton (go google it I don't feel like linking ) on repeat for a couple of hours, and the only thought running through my head is, "Jail would be really adorable if he fell in love with someone." So this dealio popped out here.

Timeline wise I guess it'd take prior to StrikerS (obviously) at an unknown point in time.

I like the numbers. They're really fun (and cinque is the most adorable thing ever )

Jail needs to be played with more. Sure he's an evil villian with unlimited greed but that's never stopped anyone from putting fuzzy mittens on bad guys before.

[Nya~n]

Not only did he get Unlimited Greed... He's got UNLIMITED LOVE!

/me flees from the Numbers

[al103]

Originally Posted by DezoPenguin

For example, Nanoha's complete lack of the "I just want to be normal!" whining so many magical girl heroines have. I mean, what's she going to say, "I don't want these weird and freakish magical powers; I want the normal family life I was going to have...so I could be a ninja like the rest of them"?

You just got 6 out of 5!!! LOOOOL...

[MeisterBabylon]

Originally Posted by Nya~n

Not only did he get Unlimited Greed... He's got UNLIMITED LOVE!

/me flees from the Numbers

Whoever this Maria is, she's UNLIMITED F***'d

[DezoPenguin]

Originally Posted by TheShinySword

*pokes head in* Okay... here's the deal this... hmm... well actually read it first then I'll tell you the deal

Spoiler for Someone for... everyone?:

Low lighting was said to be dangerous on one's eyes, most definitely not ideal for careful work. Yet, Jail Scaglietti only lit up his study (this room, unlike his numerous laboratories was just for him and not any of his creations) with a single, lonesome and quite dim, lamp. He sat at his desk, not minding that every moment spent scribbling on a piece of paper was slowly causing decay to his eyeballs. He liked glasses anyway.

Jail was in the midst of “very important business”. None of the numbers, several of whom were posed around the door, their ears and eyes at the crack where they could only see his hunched form, had any clue what he did in there except run through a lot of paper. All they knew was Jail was not to be disturbed when he was in there, as Uno had warned them. She was the only number who'd ever entered there.

Wendi theorized that he spent his time writing romance novels. The theory might have been sound had she not insisted they had to be romance novels. Nove had been quick to point out the fact the idea of the Doctor writing a romance novel was not only ridiculous but impossible. After all the Doctor had no such experience... right?

That was why numbers VI, VIII, X (having been dragged there) and XI were gathered around the door. They couldn't actually hear or see much of anything. But Sein had proposed a new theory, and that was what they were trying to find truth to. She suggested that perhaps the Doctor was... writing love letters.

It seemed possible enough. He was a young (they guessed, no one actually knew the doctors' age), handsome (okay so they didn't have much experience with too many other men), and mostly, probably, kinda sane guy. The idea that he had a girlfriend off somewhere wasn't too unlikely.

“I can't see the Doctor involved in any such relationship,” Deici spoke bluntly, never one to use one more word than necessary. She stood off to the side. The taciturn Number wasn't there by choice but rather by force, though it wasn't like she had anything better to do.

“Aww~ you're no fun,” Wendi pouted and wiggled closer to the door, hoping to hear a wistful sigh or something of the sort. “It's so romantic. The lonesome scientist, holed up in his lab~ thinking the whole time of his one true love.”

“It's ridiculous,” Nove scoffed, “besides, the doctor has us. He doesn't need another woman.”

“Well there are just some kind of things the Doctor can't get from us,” Sein smiled mischievously then giggling at the sight of her sisters' confused faces. “You know lik-”

“Ahem.”

The four younger numbers all snapped to attention, pretending that they most definitely had not been spying on Jail.

“T-Tre-nee-sama, Cinque-nee-sama.”

“It's good to see you all so lively,” Cinque scratched her neck, “but really... what exactly do you lot think you're doing?”

“...” Not a single one of them could come up with a suitable answer.

Fortunately they were spared from having to.

Jail's door slid open, the man himself standing in the doorway. If he found it odd that half of his Numbers were outside his door he didn't let it show. Instead he stuffed something in his pocket and started walking down the hall, seemingly ignoring his creations until he called back, “I'm headed out for a while, just relax.” With a lazy wave their mysterious master disappeared down the hall.

“Wow,” Wendi watched the space where he'd been, “I guess the Doctor must have been doing something super important.”





Jail pulled the piece of scrap from his pocket, looking it over as he went to his car. “Milk, Sugar, Apples, Motor Oil, Tea...”

~~~

This was nice. Relaxing really. Uno was always trying to help relieve Jail's stress. Whether she was trying to give him a massage or draw up a warm bath, it seemed she thought it was her responsibility. It was a pity none of those things worked really. But Jail had found his relief. He'd found it in the brightly lit aisles of the nearest super market. There was something therapeutic about the rap rap rap of the carts wheels against the tiled floor.

Of course it was incredibly risky for a high profile criminal to go waltzing around the supermarket. He'd already just barely escaped capture from three different grocery stores. The fact that he never bothered to change out of his lab coat didn't help. Uno had told him not to risk it but Jail felt no real fear.

This was a new grocery store for him. As a result he wasn't quite sure where anything was. It didn't help that the store was one of those places that really put the SUPER in supermarket. He could easily get lost there and he did. Jail spent a good twenty minutes in the cereal aisle wondering if he should buy the giant box of Flix, or the variety pack of three different types.

It took Jail a good three hours to get through his list, mostly because of his tendency to be indecisive when it came to a good sale. But by the end of those three hours he had not one but two carts worth of supplies. Perfect. He waited patiently in line, flipping through a trashy rag, a guilty pleasure of his. Apparently there was some sort of story about some “Aces' love dodecahedron” Jail couldn't imagine such a thing could exist but curiosity made him throw the magazine in.

The scientist piled his groceries onto the conveyor belt, there were quite a few of them so he ended up stacking. He paid without even looking up, it was best to meet the eyes of as few people as possible. Jail's total was less then he'd expected, the skill of his sale-fu was stronger then he'd thought. He was almost done when something hit his ear.

In a voice so small, so soft had there been any other noise it would have been drowned out. “Would you like paper or plastic sir?”

Baa-dum.

Never in his life had there been a moment Jail hadn't been thinking. Even in his dreams he was always plotting and planning. It wasn't his fault really. It was a side effect of his infinite greed, he eternally thought of ways to get more and more and more but- for the first time. His brain shut down.

Baa-dum.

It just ceased function. It was a simple question. Two options. Paper or Plastic? Both options would result in the same end result Jail taking his groceries back to his secret hideout.

Baa-dum.

But his brain couldn't form an answer. He looked up at the questioner, the bagger, his mouth opening and closing like a dying fish for what seemed an eternity.

Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum.

She was absolutely nothing like any of his Combat Cyborgs. That was the first cognitive thought that entered his head. It had nothing to do with the question still hanging in the air, paper or plastic. No, the first thought in his head was about her. She was smaller then any of his creations. Save for Cinque but he didn't count Cinque. This woman was definitely a woman, unlike Cinque who, as he'd apologized for many times, would never quite breach what was accepted as childhood.

Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum.

Maria. The girl's name tag read Maria. Jail estimated she was slightly less than five feet tall. Her hair was brown with just a tinge of red. She was Mid-Childian by birth, judging by her physical characteristics. Likely from the so- Wait. What was he doing? Why did he suddenly start profiling her?

Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum.

And what on Mid was wrong with his heart rate? It was going wild. His palms were starting to sweat as well and he suddenly became conscious of the fact he hadn't washed his hair in a week.

Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum.

“Sir? Paper or plastic?” She timidly repeated her question.

Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum.

“PRALASTIPER!” Jail blurted out, having no clue at all what he was saying.

“Okay,” and she promptly put his groceries in paper sacks the put those sacks in plastic ones. “Have a nice day.” Her smile radiated with the intensity of a thousand chemical explosions.

Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum.

Jail drove home faster then he ever had before.

~~~

“UNO!” After unloading his groceries with a speed previously unbeknown to him, he'd research that later, the scientist stomped through his base, searching for his second in command.

“Yes sir?” Uno looked up from the book she had been reading, she didn't have time to even put in a bookmark before Jail dragged her off to his quarters leaving a ten confuzzled mechanical girls in his wake.

Jail collapsed in his chair then looked up at Uno with a solemn expression. “Uno, I am very ill.”

Concerned entered Uno's face, “What? Doctor how? What are your symptoms?”

Jail looked grim. “Elevated heart rate. Sudden perspiration. Instant loss of cognitive function.”

The concern started to float away, replaced by an almost... amused expression. “And what brought on your... illness?”

The doctor stroked his chin, “that's the thing. Nothing really. This girl asked me if I wanted paper or plastic. And then... my mind went blank and my heart started going crazy.”

“...girl?”

“Small, probably twenty, twenty one. Brunette, trace of red. Funny little scar on her cheek, wearing just a touch of eyeshadow-”

Uno blinked, “You remembered all that?” This coming from the man who weekly “forgot” to put his laundry in the basket. Then she started giggling.

Jail was taken aback. He couldn't remember Uno... giggling... ever. “Well? What is it? What do you suppose I've got?”

“Doctor,” Her giggle fit ended but her smile didn't. “I think you're just a tad in love.”

“Oh, I'm in love. That makes sense.” Pleased with that explanation and with the fact he was, in fact, not dying Jail spun his chair around to go to work at his desk. Then it hit him. The reality of what he had just said.

“I'm in WHAT?!?!?”

Spoiler for A/N:

So I'm listening to Skullcrusher Mountain by Jonathan Coulton (go google it I don't feel like linking ) on repeat for a couple of hours, and the only thought running through my head is, "Jail would be really adorable if he fell in love with someone." So this dealio popped out here.

Timeline wise I guess it'd take prior to StrikerS (obviously) at an unknown point in time.

I like the numbers. They're really fun (and cinque is the most adorable thing ever )

Jail needs to be played with more. Sure he's an evil villian with unlimited greed but that's never stopped anyone from putting fuzzy mittens on bad guys before.

As always, the Master of the Shiny Crack brings his "A" game! Or maybe his "S+" game, since we're doing Nanoha, here. Uno rules here, and Jail, Wendi, and Nove (though she should be IX; VIII is Otto, which led to momentary confusion) are also great. Should I recognize Maria from somewhere?

Cinque demands a sequel! Preferably one where she gets more lines!

[synaesthetic]

Originally Posted by MeisterBabylon

Whoever this Maria is, she's UNLIMITED F***'d

Uuuuuu~

(You know it had to happen. It HAD to.)

[RadiantBeam]

Originally Posted by TheShinySword

*pokes head in* Okay... here's the deal this... hmm... well actually read it first then I'll tell you the deal

Spoiler for Someone for... everyone?:

Low lighting was said to be dangerous on one's eyes, most definitely not ideal for careful work. Yet, Jail Scaglietti only lit up his study (this room, unlike his numerous laboratories was just for him and not any of his creations) with a single, lonesome and quite dim, lamp. He sat at his desk, not minding that every moment spent scribbling on a piece of paper was slowly causing decay to his eyeballs. He liked glasses anyway.

Jail was in the midst of “very important business”. None of the numbers, several of whom were posed around the door, their ears and eyes at the crack where they could only see his hunched form, had any clue what he did in there except run through a lot of paper. All they knew was Jail was not to be disturbed when he was in there, as Uno had warned them. She was the only number who'd ever entered there.

Wendi theorized that he spent his time writing romance novels. The theory might have been sound had she not insisted they had to be romance novels. Nove had been quick to point out the fact the idea of the Doctor writing a romance novel was not only ridiculous but impossible. After all the Doctor had no such experience... right?

That was why numbers VI, VIII, X (having been dragged there) and XI were gathered around the door. They couldn't actually hear or see much of anything. But Sein had proposed a new theory, and that was what they were trying to find truth to. She suggested that perhaps the Doctor was... writing love letters.

It seemed possible enough. He was a young (they guessed, no one actually knew the doctors' age), handsome (okay so they didn't have much experience with too many other men), and mostly, probably, kinda sane guy. The idea that he had a girlfriend off somewhere wasn't too unlikely.

“I can't see the Doctor involved in any such relationship,” Deici spoke bluntly, never one to use one more word than necessary. She stood off to the side. The taciturn Number wasn't there by choice but rather by force, though it wasn't like she had anything better to do.

“Aww~ you're no fun,” Wendi pouted and wiggled closer to the door, hoping to hear a wistful sigh or something of the sort. “It's so romantic. The lonesome scientist, holed up in his lab~ thinking the whole time of his one true love.”

“It's ridiculous,” Nove scoffed, “besides, the doctor has us. He doesn't need another woman.”

“Well there are just some kind of things the Doctor can't get from us,” Sein smiled mischievously then giggling at the sight of her sisters' confused faces. “You know lik-”

“Ahem.”

The four younger numbers all snapped to attention, pretending that they most definitely had not been spying on Jail.

“T-Tre-nee-sama, Cinque-nee-sama.”

“It's good to see you all so lively,” Cinque scratched her neck, “but really... what exactly do you lot think you're doing?”

“...” Not a single one of them could come up with a suitable answer.

Fortunately they were spared from having to.

Jail's door slid open, the man himself standing in the doorway. If he found it odd that half of his Numbers were outside his door he didn't let it show. Instead he stuffed something in his pocket and started walking down the hall, seemingly ignoring his creations until he called back, “I'm headed out for a while, just relax.” With a lazy wave their mysterious master disappeared down the hall.

“Wow,” Wendi watched the space where he'd been, “I guess the Doctor must have been doing something super important.”





Jail pulled the piece of scrap from his pocket, looking it over as he went to his car. “Milk, Sugar, Apples, Motor Oil, Tea...”

~~~

This was nice. Relaxing really. Uno was always trying to help relieve Jail's stress. Whether she was trying to give him a massage or draw up a warm bath, it seemed she thought it was her responsibility. It was a pity none of those things worked really. But Jail had found his relief. He'd found it in the brightly lit aisles of the nearest super market. There was something therapeutic about the rap rap rap of the carts wheels against the tiled floor.

Of course it was incredibly risky for a high profile criminal to go waltzing around the supermarket. He'd already just barely escaped capture from three different grocery stores. The fact that he never bothered to change out of his lab coat didn't help. Uno had told him not to risk it but Jail felt no real fear.

This was a new grocery store for him. As a result he wasn't quite sure where anything was. It didn't help that the store was one of those places that really put the SUPER in supermarket. He could easily get lost there and he did. Jail spent a good twenty minutes in the cereal aisle wondering if he should buy the giant box of Flix, or the variety pack of three different types.

It took Jail a good three hours to get through his list, mostly because of his tendency to be indecisive when it came to a good sale. But by the end of those three hours he had not one but two carts worth of supplies. Perfect. He waited patiently in line, flipping through a trashy rag, a guilty pleasure of his. Apparently there was some sort of story about some “Aces' love dodecahedron” Jail couldn't imagine such a thing could exist but curiosity made him throw the magazine in.

The scientist piled his groceries onto the conveyor belt, there were quite a few of them so he ended up stacking. He paid without even looking up, it was best to meet the eyes of as few people as possible. Jail's total was less then he'd expected, the skill of his sale-fu was stronger then he'd thought. He was almost done when something hit his ear.

In a voice so small, so soft had there been any other noise it would have been drowned out. “Would you like paper or plastic sir?”

Baa-dum.

Never in his life had there been a moment Jail hadn't been thinking. Even in his dreams he was always plotting and planning. It wasn't his fault really. It was a side effect of his infinite greed, he eternally thought of ways to get more and more and more but- for the first time. His brain shut down.

Baa-dum.

It just ceased function. It was a simple question. Two options. Paper or Plastic? Both options would result in the same end result Jail taking his groceries back to his secret hideout.

Baa-dum.

But his brain couldn't form an answer. He looked up at the questioner, the bagger, his mouth opening and closing like a dying fish for what seemed an eternity.

Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum.

She was absolutely nothing like any of his Combat Cyborgs. That was the first cognitive thought that entered his head. It had nothing to do with the question still hanging in the air, paper or plastic. No, the first thought in his head was about her. She was smaller then any of his creations. Save for Cinque but he didn't count Cinque. This woman was definitely a woman, unlike Cinque who, as he'd apologized for many times, would never quite breach what was accepted as childhood.

Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum.

Maria. The girl's name tag read Maria. Jail estimated she was slightly less than five feet tall. Her hair was brown with just a tinge of red. She was Mid-Childian by birth, judging by her physical characteristics. Likely from the so- Wait. What was he doing? Why did he suddenly start profiling her?

Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum.

And what on Mid was wrong with his heart rate? It was going wild. His palms were starting to sweat as well and he suddenly became conscious of the fact he hadn't washed his hair in a week.

Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum.

“Sir? Paper or plastic?” She timidly repeated her question.

Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum.

“PRALASTIPER!” Jail blurted out, having no clue at all what he was saying.

“Okay,” and she promptly put his groceries in paper sacks the put those sacks in plastic ones. “Have a nice day.” Her smile radiated with the intensity of a thousand chemical explosions.

Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum Baa-dum.

Jail drove home faster then he ever had before.

~~~

“UNO!” After unloading his groceries with a speed previously unbeknown to him, he'd research that later, the scientist stomped through his base, searching for his second in command.

“Yes sir?” Uno looked up from the book she had been reading, she didn't have time to even put in a bookmark before Jail dragged her off to his quarters leaving a ten confuzzled mechanical girls in his wake.

Jail collapsed in his chair then looked up at Uno with a solemn expression. “Uno, I am very ill.”

Concerned entered Uno's face, “What? Doctor how? What are your symptoms?”

Jail looked grim. “Elevated heart rate. Sudden perspiration. Instant loss of cognitive function.”

The concern started to float away, replaced by an almost... amused expression. “And what brought on your... illness?”

The doctor stroked his chin, “that's the thing. Nothing really. This girl asked me if I wanted paper or plastic. And then... my mind went blank and my heart started going crazy.”

“...girl?”

“Small, probably twenty, twenty one. Brunette, trace of red. Funny little scar on her cheek, wearing just a touch of eyeshadow-”

Uno blinked, “You remembered all that?” This coming from the man who weekly “forgot” to put his laundry in the basket. Then she started giggling.

Jail was taken aback. He couldn't remember Uno... giggling... ever. “Well? What is it? What do you suppose I've got?”

“Doctor,” Her giggle fit ended but her smile didn't. “I think you're just a tad in love.”

“Oh, I'm in love. That makes sense.” Pleased with that explanation and with the fact he was, in fact, not dying Jail spun his chair around to go to work at his desk. Then it hit him. The reality of what he had just said.

“I'm in WHAT?!?!?”

Spoiler for A/N:

So I'm listening to Skullcrusher Mountain by Jonathan Coulton (go google it I don't feel like linking ) on repeat for a couple of hours, and the only thought running through my head is, "Jail would be really adorable if he fell in love with someone." So this dealio popped out here.

Timeline wise I guess it'd take prior to StrikerS (obviously) at an unknown point in time.

I like the numbers. They're really fun (and cinque is the most adorable thing ever )

Jail needs to be played with more. Sure he's an evil villian with unlimited greed but that's never stopped anyone from putting fuzzy mittens on bad guys before.

Even mad scientists can fall in love, eh?

Sequel? Please? Maybe?