So here's the comic!
I think this version of Heero and Duo need more story, but I haven't found it yet.
Here is the first chapter of this story.
One chapter is prose; the other comic.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing. Notes: It’s 1x2x1, but in this case it’s 2x1. Warning: Not safe for work.
Blue and yellow walls, amber beer bottles, a metal Corona Light sign still held to the wall by three screws, and screaming Dutch haus music that was still only a substrate to the animated banter in the mixed group of travelers, all dripped past Heero’s headphones like almost too much chili in the salad. Outside the single paned windows, held in their arched no longer really white frames, the night was not quite dark and not really empty, but it was far away from the little metal cafe table that he owned in the corner of the hostel’s public room. Duo’s playlist played on Duo’s headphones in his ears and he typed at a steady pace on a novel he hoped to turn into medical tuition for the. Some five pages into the new story, a restlessness jittered on his nerves and he was pretty sure everything he’d written was a piece of shit. In a few hour…
Perfect by Max Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing, nor do I own One Direction’s Perfect
Note: Happy New Year
The hospital was clean. It wasn’t much else, but it was clean. The floors were worn thin, patched with thick paint over where the concrete showed through. The walls had art, but it was mostly stuff done by patients, doctors. There were ten floors of concrete and steel centered in an area of town long stewed in intergroup conflict and poverty. Duo imagined the area centuries before as the home of Jazz and people who hadn’t yet breached the sky. He wondered if they could see the stars then. Sitting in his office window, one foot propped against the far side, he leaned his head against the heavily painted blue wall and stared at a sky, trying to imagine where all the stars were on the other side of a wall of light. His braid hung down the wall, fluttering for a moment as a breeze blew through. One arm rested on a bent knee, his left hand, large and strong hung relaxed, a non-toxic a…