A/N: Story will follow The Disorder Seven plot, just more loosely and differently. It's mostly Raynie recounting important memories that make up her life. As in, it will be shorter... maybe. Probably seven chapters to go with the whole DS thing. :D; I just really need to get Raynie's (OC) background down quickly cause I've slacked off too much on it. 00: Thing will make sense, just not so much at the moment... it'll be like a... puzzle 8D; Alsoalso, Pieces of Heart is written by chibirenachan, story is on this site so go read it. :DD
Lock it Memory
[Dia... Journal Cover]
"Don't pretend like you know him!"
Click.
Fingers clutched a silver lock, turning a wrist so that the latch would allow itself to open. The device fell to the blue tinted ground with a clatter that no one was sure to have heard. It was pretty late, she guessed. Though the never ending night sky always persisted, she had lived here long enough to tell when it was time to awake and time to go to sleep. Static luminescent lights, neon blinks and flashes served as a fake sun. Following you wherever you went till you finally closed your eyes shut.
"All you know is his stupid name!"
Usually, she would be asleep at this time. Pretending to be content in a spare room of the hotel as the sounds of "flower girl" making the last minute touches here and there lulled her to sleep.
Tonight, however, was different.
"It's not even his real name!"
Her half tied boots scraped against the surface before her, bending one knee up enough to support the square-shaped object in her hands. The halter-like sundress rode up some, enough to reveal the usual black fitted shorts she wore to battle. Fingerless gloves were absent on her hands, scratches and healing cuts only barely hidden by white fabric bandages. Some tightly wrapped and others loosely hanging on while together they were held by a small knot along her wrists.
"He wasn't a Nobody! So, don't say it like it's nothing because that's not what he was!"
Gizmo's clocks ticked along as time went by, her eyes still on the oddly colorful journal held with rigid fingers. Here, she couldn't be bothered. She couldn't be seen or heard, not that she ever made sounds but the soft scratching of a pencil might reach someone's ears and that she couldn't risk. This was something she did irregularly, not all too often but just enough to make sure the memories she wrote down wouldn't disappear in the back of her mind. She wasn't one to cower in fear over the darkness or be afraid of an injury. Hiding beneath the sheets while thunder rolled on wasn't her either. Even the simple fact that moogles creep her out wasn't enough for her to call a fear.
"Whatever you say, Nei..."
No. It wasn't any of those things at all.
Raynie reached out her right hand to her boot, dipping index finger and thumb in just enough to pluck out the pencil she kept there.
"All I know is that he's not him anymore."
Having a fear was a waste of time.
Her hand placed the pencil between her lips, leaving her free hand to open the now unlocked journal. It revealed several dog-eared pages as they flicked across, some were torn slightly, others reveal poorly drawn sketches instead of words and few displayed photographs held onto the page with tape.
Flashes of wild red went by, accompanied by bright greens and some blues.
"Whatever happened to him anyway, huh?"
"Who cares." The girl muttered out. With a swift movement, her left thumb shifted and pressed against a page, leaving a blank page to view on the other side.
Pause.
Right hand lifted back up, removing the pencil back into its hold before she tapped the lead on the parchment lightly a couple of times.
Think, think, think…
…
Oh, yeeaa…
Like a blur, her hand started moving, letters flowing across the page, combining into words that formed sentences which went line by line, one by one. She could easily spend hours up here, the cold breeze sweeping by to further mess with her short hair, the deep purple strands mixing with brown.
The lead kept scribbling left to right, silently recalling the odds and ends of the day. Not much had happened really, unless you call Cid's temper rising through the roof 'new', then… yeah, nothing much. But it still mattered. Every little thing she saw, did and heard was worth etching down. All the memories were important. There was no such thing as a little one.
Not to her.
Past the page she currently wrote on were events, simply detailed but enough to visualize it. Raynie had gone through many journals by now, all safely organized and tucked away where only she could ever find them. She didn't care about others reading them, honestly. They were like stories, something that… happened but not really. Fiction almost.
They were real all the way through.
No exaggerations.
But to her, it just seemed otherworldly. Whenever she would casually pick up one of the earlier journals in her hands, it felt like a story that wasn't written by her but by someone else.
It was really…
"weird." She scoffed quietly, her wrist stopping for a second before continuing.
Like when she first arrived to Traverse Town or how she was found by the pink-clothed flower girl who then put her under the care of Cid because he needed to become "more responsible".
Really, he only got worse.
Time for random facts!
1. Approximately fifteen gummi ships have been wrecked while under Raynie's care. This is not counting the ones Cid never knew about.
2. All infinitely number of curse words Raynie knows is all thanks to a certain old-graying-blonde-chain-smoker named Cid Highwind.
3. Cid is responsible for her paranoia toward moogles.
4. Also responsible for her short hair which she has kept since. To explain the story would just be tedious, all you have to know is that it involved fire.
Only chocobo knows how much Aerith regrets it now.
The thought made a stifled chuckle come out from her lips, her hand now moving to draw little doodles around the edge of page. As much as the thought or the wish of never knowing Cid came through her mind, she had to admit that if she was ever given the choice of choosing another somewhat-father figure, she wouldn't change him for the world.
Err… worlds.
Though annoying, memories like those always brought a grin or a smile to her face. It was all she had to do to get back up from a tough situation. With her left hand she absentmindedly adjusted the hoodie she wore, another cold breeze hitting her way. As her hand was about to leave the material, she hesitated and then started to tighten her hold.
"Sure are reminiscing a lot tonight aren't you?"
The zipper poked at her skin, digging in deeper at the same time her right hand stopped its movements.
"Not really." She mumbled out, apparently to herself, starting to straighten up as her hand left her jacket and proceeded to close her journal back up, right hand moving out of the cover's way.
Raynie moved her leg away from the edge, turning around on the ledge before bending her knees to stand up. A slow sigh escaped her lips, her head tilting up enough to look at the cloudy sky, faint stars trying to shine their way through.
"I'll continue tomorrow."
"I'll look forward to it then."