MOGWTF!!!!11
by Court and Erin, the Hovel-Dwellers of DOOM
*~*~*
Summary: Hojo is deprived of a certain show, which causes him to lure certain people to a certain mansion and play a certain game that involves certain bodies to certainly switch.... Insanity at its finest! Read at your own risk...
*~*~*
A/N: Yes, this title WAS, in fact, inspired by IMPUDENCE!!!!
And Chelz. And her evil friends.
Um, right.
Enjoy! :D It'll get better later on, trust us.... MWAHAHAH!
(Proofreading was sparse... so don't blame USSSSSS.)
*~*~*
TEH PROLOGUE OF TEH DOOMZ
Hojo considered himself to be a reasonable man. He really, truly did. But after spending twenty full minutes staring at his television, the mad grin on his face twitching slightly as static filled the screen in front of him, he was feeling very slightly annoyed.
And so, like any reasonable man might do when his ten-year-old TV is broken, he didn't call up the cable company or even a repairman. Oh, no.
Instead, he made very reasonable plans of vengeance against everyone and anyone who had ever been even the slightest bit of annoyance to him during his entire reasonable lifetime.
They would pay for him missing his favorite show.
Oh, yes.
They would pay.
*~*~*
"Whew." Aerith stepped out from the back stable area where all the Chocobo jockeys prepared for their races, wiping her forehead daintily with the back of her hand. She had just finished a race riding her best Chocobo, Vroom. It had been quite the competition, and she was rather tired out by it. However, she did emerge victorious, even if it wasn't as fun to win anymore. Things like that do get old after a while. Luckily, no one was standing outside waiting to get the autograph of the "Master Chocobo Racer", for that was what she was, and so it was no hassle to go down the many stairs and jump through one of the many multi-colored tubes into the Wonder area.
Before, the only things this place offered were the mini-games, but now there were many new additions. One being a Starbucks coffee. And didn't that sound peachy to the tired out jockey now? Maybe she would even see some familiar faces there. Last she heard, Rufus and Reeve were running the place, but this was her first time to visit the coffee shop. Let's see if the rumors are true, she thought with a smile. She also considered Zack might be there, seeing that he had a job here as well. Yes, she and Zack were both alive, revived by one mysterious man. And so she made her way through the Wonder area, finally stepping into the Starbucks, taking a nice whiff of the coffee-tinted air as she entered. She looked around, blinking those emerald eyes. Anyone she knew here?
Brown eyes glanced over the even browner liquid being poured from a large, metallic coffee pot into a small white cup, even though it would have been dubbed "grande" by most who ordered at the counter of the shop. The owner of the eyes sighed slightly, bringing his smooth, untarnished hand to the goatee that encompassed the lower half of his dull, rather downtrodden face and scratching his chin.
"Let's see... was that a caf, decaf, half-caf, or no-caf.....?" He muttered to himself, his eyes narrowed as he stared blankly towards the large see- through window in front of him that displayed an assortment of rather tasty- looking pastries... Yes.... a cinnamon twist would hit the spot right about now......
"That's a DECAF, ya space-cadet!" A high-pitched, rather childlike voice that came from behind the cashier of the establishment, breaking into his hunger-induced fantasies. The mechanical cat whom the voice belonged to hopped once or twice on the countertop behind the cash register, waving his hands in exasperation. "Now get ta work! It's a Saturday, so we're gonna get a lotta customers we gotta serve. so don'tcha be slackin' off or--"
"Oh, please," a smooth, suave voice broke into the speech, laced with arrogance like arsenic in wine. "It's no use, really.... After all, you're only talking to yourself."
The brown-eyed man's eyes narrowed even further as he turned towards the third employee of this particularly dysfunctional coffee shop, his fists clenched at his sides as the cat behind him suddenly froze its movement and seemed to become rather... lifeless.
"Well.... why aren't you doing any work?!?!" He would have been yelling, his nerves more on edge than usual, had he had a more brash personality, but instead, he forced his voice into a controlled growl. "The only thing you've done today is put on that.... that stupid green apron!"
"Yes, exactly," the man lounging at one of the trademark, too-small Starbucks tables returned, turning his head towards his critic. He smiled, like a cat toying with a mouse, as he stretched his neck backwards over the chair and brought the back of his slender hands to the bangs that fell over his forehead, smoothing them behind his ear. "Donning this symbol of sub- par employment is enough torment for one of such high class as me, don't you think, Reeve?"
Reeve just stood there, his eye twitching slightly as he stared at his smooth-talking tormentor.
"I hate you." He managed to mumble, murder suppressed in his eyes.
"Yes, that's what everyone says," Rufus' cat smile grew into a full-fledged tiger's grin as he turned back towards The Wall Street Journal that was poised so elegantly in his well-mannered hands.
Aerith was a bit flustered by all of the going-ons in the place. She hadn't expected to enter into such a ruckus. Well, it seemed like a ruckus in her eyes. I mean, since when were those running a business together supposed to fight. She had to laugh at the scene, however, for the way the three bickered amongst themselves would be humorous to just about anyone. Putting a hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter, she began to wonder just when they would notice her standing there. She was in a PINK outfit, so one would think that she would have caught their attention before, but when you're arguing, it's true that you don't see much else but the one you're quarreling with. Either way, it wasn't too important to speak to any of them at the moment and so she decided to grab a seat and wait for them to finish.
As she examined the table that she was sitting at, a young man entered, looking a bit flustered. He walked towards her, nervously inquiring, "Um, miss... Are you Aerith?" Green eyes blinked as she glanced up at him, then nodding. "I... I see. And... those over there..." A point from him showed that he meant Rufus, Reeve, and Cait. Aerith tilted her head to the side. "They are Cait Sith, Reeve, and Rufus. Why do you ask?" The messenger rubbed the back of his head. "W-well, I was told to deliver these." He then handed her a stack of letters, four, to be exact. She took them, seeming somewhat flustered.
"Hmm..?" The messenger didn't answer her inquiry, simply responding with another question. "Would you happen to know... Zack?" She sighed somewhat, though nodding after a few moments. "Yes... one for him, too?" A smile. "Thanks, miss. Here." And he handed her the last letter and quickly exited. She shook her head, looking down at the big stack she now had in her hand. I suppose it was delivery time for the flower girl.
Cait, or rather Reeve's alter ego, had become bored of watching Rufus and Reeve exchange the cold glares that followed their argument and abandoned the countertop, hopping from it to the ground and then onto Aerith's shoulder. "Hullo, Master Chocobo-Racer!" He addressed her jokingly. He then blinked and peered down at the envelopes she held in her hands. "Whatcha got there, huh?"
She had just been examining what the letters said on their exterior, each being addressed to the respective person, when someone, or something, jumped up onto her shoulder, causing her to jump quite a bit. She snapped her head to look over at the small black cat, blinking slightly at him. "Eh..." she started, it feeling weird to address the cat when he wasn't with his partner, the oversized moogle. "... some man came and gave these to me. Here..." She then started flipping through the envelopes, handing him the one that had written on it in nice, red calligraphy "Cait Sith".
"Oh, hey, a letter for me! Swell!" Cait gave out a meow of delight and quickly crawled up to the topmost part of Aerith's head. With a loud rip, he tore his open with one of his claws, hastily throwing the envelope to the floor and pulling out the parchment inside, which he held in his small, white paws as his eyes ran over the lettering.
"Wow.... It sounds all well-cultured fer being sent to a cat like me! Whoopee! It says... that I'm 'cordially' invited to some fancy-shmancy party! Oh, swell, we'll eat cake an' dinner an' have a great time.... Hey, I could even bring Moggy along too! He's been sooo bored over at the Wonder Square by his lonesome, don'tcha know? But I gotta stay here to help out... well, myself, 'cause I don't know what the heck I'd do wit'out me!" He hopped down from Aerith's head to the counter, and then upon a disgruntled Reeve's shoulder, scrambling to the top like he had with the flower girl and grinning down at his 'partner in mind'. "Ain't that right, me?"
Reeve only stared blankly at the wall in front of him, refusing to look at anything that would worsen his already declining mood. "I swear," he muttered out the side of his mouth. "I should've never let them put your chip in my head... 'Spy'.... 'Extra pay'... Pah. Never seen a damn cent..."
"Er, see?" Cait Sith sweatdropped, rubbing the back of his head with a paw while a strained smile adorned his face. "He needs moral support, the poor fella!"
What a bridge of her privacy, this black cat crawling almost all over her, it seemed. It made her squirm a bit, but she had always gotten along with the cat quite well, despite the fact that he had been a spy and all. That had all been Reeve's doing, after all, and she needn't blame the kitty for that, especially when he was such a cute little thing, and held much better spirits than his human counterpart, moping over at the counter with that disgruntled look.
"A party...?" She bit her lip, not sure what this meant, and then retrieved the letter meant to her, a slender finger rising up to open it up with shocking ease. Her eyes scanned over the paper, and she paled a bit. Hojo? What did that... ugh, that freak want with them? She felt that time when she had been seized my ShinRa and held in the headquarters had been quite enough time spent with the scientist, and loathed the thought of seeing him again.
She peered eerily over at Cait. "You want to go?" She was deadset against it, and that was that. However, she did have common sense, and figured it was best that she deliver the letters to the others as well, and see what they would think of it. And so, with a quick sigh, she paced over to the table where Rufus was sitting, reading, and placed the letter gently before him. She then boldly walked over to the distempered manager and held out his letter to him, emerald eyes seeming to urge him on to take it. She needed to find out what the others thought, after all.
Hm? What's this?" Rufus glared over his newspaper at Aerith and then looked down at the letter condescendingly. He put down the paper and gingerly picked up the envelope by one corner, squinting his sapphire eyes at the return address. "Edward Hojo...? What the hell is that old kook up to this time?"
"I dunno," Cait hopped around a bit on Reeve's head. "But if someone says the word 'party', I'm gonna say the word 'PARTY!'"
Reeve glared upwards at his feline counterpart. "That doesn't even make any sense." He turned his gaze upon the letter and then towards Aerith. "None of this makes any sense! I mean, isn't Hojo dead...?"
"Only about as dead as me and Ancient-Girl here," Rufus said with an exasperated sigh. "The trucker, remember?"
"Right." Reeve refused to look in Rufus' direction as he sarcastically echoed his words. "Trucker."
"Anyway, I think it's extremely stupid to even consider going to any kind of get-together that that madman might arrange..." Rufus growled with contempt as he shook the letter from the same corner, as if trying to remove any kind of poisonous dust. "He could be sending us diseases through these for all we know!"
Aerith growled slightly and frowned at the condescending way that Rufus had to deal with everything, including all of the people that were in the room with him. She had many times felt prone to give him a kick to the face because of that, or maybe just hit him over the head with her Princess Guard, but the somewhat seriousness of the moment helped to refrain her. She had to laugh at the nonsense Cait Sith was saying and the reaction from his maker, Aerith always having been a fan of the robot's enthusiasm.
She smiled sweetly over at Reeve. "Yes. He revived Zack as well, remember?" Exactly. The trucker, namely, the one that had taken Zack and Cloud to Midgar so many years ago, had revived all of those that were supposedly "dead", more to make the lives of the writers much easier than they should be. "So..." She clasped her hands behind her back, biting her lip slightly. "We've got a yes from Cait, a no from Rufus..." She peered over to Reeve yet again. "How about you, Reeve?"
Reeve was about to give a firm "no" when something new occurred to him. He then smiled rather wickedly, "Hm... well... if Rufus isn't going.... I guess I'm in!"
"YEAH!" Cait cried out happily, purring loudly as he scampered onto Reeve's arm and looked up at his other half with awe-filled eyes. "Ya really mean it, pally?!"
"Yup!" Reeve's mood had swung drastically as he scratched the robotic cat's head rather affectionately. "Experimentation, week-old food, cyanide-laced champagne.... God, I don't give a damn as long as he isn't there!"
"I'm flattered, thank you," was Rufus' caustic response as he rolled his eyes and went back to his paper.
Well, then! Two had said yes, one no. Interesting; she hadn't thought that the majority would want to see Hojo again, but it was rather true that this was only a small amount of the people that were probably invited. Plus, there was still a letter to be delivered. She looked down, seeing Zack written on it in bold red. She had better go and get his say on it soon, as well, but she figured that she could hang out around here for a bit.
She smiled somewhat to see how Reeve relished at the thought of him NOT being with Rufus, and then came to wonder how they had started to work together in the first place. Either way, she assumed that Rufus would go, just in order to spite and anger Reeve to death. Sadistic, as she might be to do so, she had to laugh at the thought.
However, Rufus wouldn't acknowledge rather the flower girl was right or wrong in her guess, although the smirk he gave from behind the cover of his newspaper was probably a very good hint... In any case, Cait gave out another meow, launching himself from Reeve's arm to Aerith's head once more. "Oh can I come too, pal? I gotta tell Moggy that he's invited too, y'see!" Aside, he whispered into her ear farthest from Reeve. "An' 'sides, me over there gets reeeeal cranky when he's packin'!"
Well, it was good to have someone to accompany her, if not to simply help ward off the hordes of fans that she had somehow accumulated. She nodded to him, making sure that it was a slight nod so that he didn't fall off, and then said up to him, "So... wanna go pick up Mog and then we'll go visit Zack?" she asked, figuring that made the most sense since Mog was probably hanging around closer to the Starbucks than Zack would be. "Anyhow, you two behave." She was speaking over to Rufus and Reeve, of course. She feared that when they left the two might decided to go at it.
"Don't worry, sweetie," Rufus grinned, looking over his paper once more. "We'll be good boys."
"Oh, shut the hell up," Reeve finally spat. He turned towards Rufus. "You know, I hated you as a boss. You never gave me one raise, not ONE itty bitty one ever!"
"Well, look who's talking, traitor."
"TRAITOR?! You were the one who didn't care how many people got killed as long as you got your mon--"
And that was when Cait urgently tugged the back of Aerith's collar, indicating that now would be a good time to leave.
She cringed a bit at being called 'sweetie' by that abomination, but she supposed she had brought it upon herself, what with smiling at him sweetly. She couldn't help it! It was instinct! Instinct, gosh-darnit. The tug from Cait brought her back to reality, and a rather large sweatdrop appeared on the side of her head as she viewed the two bicker. Back at it, she supposed. Well, there was no way she was going to be able to break it up... once they started, there was no real stopping them, and so she decided she had better slip out of the room in silence, lest they drag her into the quarrel.
Cait was glad that Aerith had not succumbed to her pacifist ways this time, and breathed a sigh of relief that he wouldn't have to stay in that little coffee shop when Reeve and Rufus began to pummel each other, which would no doubt happen soon, the way the day was going....
It was a short walk to the other side of the Wonder Square, and it wasn't long before Cait spotted his large, white-furred friend. "Hey, there he is! An'...." He blinked as another familiar figure came into view. "Speak of the devil, why don'tcha?"
As she was walking, Aerith had been watching children flying by, faces lit up with delight and the like, especially those who were there for their first time. Ever since Sephiroth had been killed, though he was now alive again (thanks to that handy dandy trucker) the price for the Gold Saucer had been lowered quite drastically, which allowed the more underprivileged people to enjoy the theme park as well. Aerith found that quite nice, considering such people appreciated things like this so much more. She smiled somewhat at that, but blinked back into reality once again as Cait spoke. "Mm? Oh!" Emerald orbs brightened as she saw the fluffy white oversized moogle walk towards him, and then spikes of black made themselves known as well for there stood Zack.
She grinned playfully at him, waving him over. He canted his head to the side for a moment, but paced over to the flower girl. "Hey, Aerith," he said, obviously glad to see her. She was his girlfriend, after all. Or is that term too overused? "Whatcha' need? I'll need to get back soon. Paid by how much I work, after all..." He rubbed the back of his head, stirring some of those spikes. "I'll be quick, then," she responded, winking at him.
"Here..." she grabbed the fated invitation and handed to him. He opened it right then and quickly read over it. Eyebrows were raised. "Mm...? Hojo, huh? He's a shady guy if I ever knew one..." With a glare from the pink- clad one, he quickly shaped up. "Err--you wanna know what I think, right? Well... I guess so. What do we have to lose, right?" He shrugged, then went to putting the letter in one of his pockets. "Our lives, possibly..." Aerith muttered. "Oh, come on. It'll be fine! It's been boring just sticking around here anyway. We need to get out every now and then, even if it is going to some madman's mansion." Another of those infamous grins was flashed. Aerith just huffed; she sometimes had to wonder why she was in love with such an idiot.
"Oh!" he quickly added after that. "And we can invite Yuffie to come with us, too!"
Aerith blinked. "Yuffie..? She's here?"
Zack rubbed the back of his head once again. "Uhh.. yeah. She tried to pickpocket me earlier and so I have her working my shift right now since I needed a break." He chuckled nervously at the glare Aerith shot over at him. "Err--- anyway, wanna come with me to talk to her about it?" he warily asked. "I guess so," she mumbled.
Cait and Mog had finished their greetings to each other by then and were blinking dubiously at the two love birds, but mostly at Zack's extreme senility shown by the fact that he didn't have one single worry about going to a party hosted by someone who had seen to it that he was floating half- naked in a tube for an exceedingly long period of time--or any worries of bringing Yuffie along for the ride.
But then again, Cait didn't really care about anything other than the fact that everyone was going to a PARTY so he forgot completely about Zack's unusual reaction and was instead pondering a different item of interest, so intently, in fact :
"Hm... wonder who else got invited...?"
*~*~*
Somewhere in Wutai...
"I have an announcement to make," said the usually silent one of the Turks, otherwise known as Rude. He seemed rather adamant about whatever he was going to say, even standing up at the table where the four of them had been seated. Those four being him, Reno, Elena, and Tseng, of course. Elena jumped slightly at Rude even speaking, being the least used to any utterances coming from the bald one in question. Tseng also seemed a bit surprised, going as far as to raising an eyebrow quizzically. Reno blinked upwards dazedly, his head moving side-to-side a bit as he grinned widely and held up a finger drunkenly towards Rude.
"Lemme guess..." He drawled, twirling his finger in the air and taking another swig of his moonshine. "Yer PREGNANT."
Rude just looked baffled for a moment, and the first to react after a long, uncomfortable silence was Elena, yelling out a rather loud, "RENO!" She stood up and walked over to him, obviously not happy. Rude just rubbed the back of his bald head; it seemed his effort had been quite the failure. He sighed to himself as he watched the spectacle of Elena attempting to try and take Reno's booze away. "...." He still needed to get his point across, but he had no idea how to cease the uproar that had started. Maybe Tseng could give him a hand? He was their leader, after all, and had also been so conveniently revived by the trucker, who now was head of a rather successful privately owned establishment titled "Revivization Inc--When Phoenix Down Isn't Part of the Plotline!"
Tseng looked over his charges, sighing once before taking immediate action. In one single, swift motion, he stepped to Elena and Reno, grabbed the half- empty bottle, and using its hard surface rather efficiently, had caused two large bumps to arise on both of their heads.
"....As you were saying...." He gave a dangerous, forced smile.
"Agh!" whined Elena after the deserving clump, one hand resting on the hurt area as she sat back down in her seat, pouting slightly. If it had been anyone else but Tseng, she would have chewed them out... geez, liking your boss had some extreme disadvantages. She peered up at Rude, figuring she might as well listen now that the problem had been remedied... sort of. Besides, how often did someone get to even hear the guy say anything?
Reno didn't.
"Y'know, deyz gots programs..." He hiccupped just as he got another hard- earned whack over the head from Tseng. With a disgruntled snort, he finally decided to silence his overly big (and foul-smelling) mouth.
The bald one cleared his throat and waited a few moments after that, for some sort of emphasis, but soon announced, "I will be getting a hair transplant."
There was one rare moment when none of the Turks could find any words to describe their innermost feelings.
Then...
"....WHAT?!?!?!"
"Well, I was thinking about how all you people have so many fans and I seem to be the least popular person of the group, so I decided that it was either because of how little I talked or how little hair I had, so I realized I needed to change one or the other." He shrugged. "Hair seemed easier."
Those were the most words Elena had ever heard Rude speak in one sitting, or rather, standing, but that was besides the point. "Easier..? Well... I've never even heard of hair transplants..."
"You've never heard of them...?" Tseng looked down at Elena in shock. "You can get them for 45.97 gil per approximately three-by-three centimeter clump at Claire Billy Joe Bob's Hair Transplant Palace in Kalm village, area code 30445 on Rogaine Street, just off of Pantene Pro-V Junction!"
She blinked at him in bewilderment. "Umm... and how do you know all of that...?" she asked, a bit hesitantly. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer, but let's just say she was feeling bold.
"Um.... I just.... know... these... things..." Tseng glanced around suspiciously, instinctively bringing his hands to a few strands of hair that came over his shoulder and stroking them lovingly. "Yes.... I know... these... mmm.... my preeeccciioouusss....."
Reno just looked at everyone blearily and obliviously for a few seconds. He finally spoke self-importantly and loud enough too so that most of the bar's customers turned their heads a ways.
"I told youz all and I'll tell youz all again...." He raised himself to his wobbling legs, emphasizing each of his words with a bang to the table. "SEXUAL ABSTINENCE IS THE ONLY SOLUTION!!!!!!"
Rude should have known he would get reactions from his comrades, and was seriously beginning to contemplate why he was with this ragtag group of drunks, dimwits, and hair-lovers in the first place. Well, no use worrying about it. He just sighed and sat back down again.
Elena gave Tseng a rather scared look and scooted her chair away from the table slightly, then jumped a bit as Reno banged his hands down on furniture's surface; this was so very humiliating. She had a feeling they were going to get kicked out again. Like that one other time...
"Hey, you psychos!" An angered yell suddenly came from the direction of the bar's counter. "If you don't all shut up I'm gonna kick you out like that other time!"
"Er--" Tseng managed to cease his hair-caressing long enough to shoot a glare at the bartender. "Yes.... sir.... Egh." He sighed and closed his eyes, walking to Rude and throwing an arm over the taller man's shoulder. "Well, then... the going may get tough, but let me tell you, Rude, that no matter what happens, we'll be there for you, and I personally shall accompany you to that end of the laser and back so that you may experience complete and utter moral support!"
"I'll picket yer rights, bud!" Reno gave a lopsided smile. "The abortion controversy is an uuuuuugly thing, yeah..."
Rude sweatdropped at the yell from the 'tender, and was about to try and somehow get Reno to calm down before Tseng came over. He looked slowly over at him, and did not seem too happy. They were all making fun of him, weren't they? He just sighed once again and looked down at the table. He was considering getting hammered as well... that seemed to fix everything. Well, until the next morning...
Elena shot a side-glance at Reno. "... you are really too much.." She pulled her gun out of the holster at her waist, spun it around so that she was holding it by the barrel, and just clomped him over the head with the handle. It was quite obvious she had done such before. She ignored the loud WHUMP of Reno's head hitting the table and the even louder WHUMP of his body falling out of the chair and onto the floor. She rubbed at her temples with one hand as she returned the gun with the other. "Mm... so, Rude, you getting the transplant tomorrow?"
He just nodded. He had done enough talking for a lifetime.
Whatever other insanity that would have followed was suddenly interrupted by the panting of a young man as he ran into the tavern and ran over to the Bluesuits.
"Um.... You guys the..." He glanced down at a piece of paper in his hand. "The... The Turks...?"
He forced a smile at the blank stares that met his eyes when he raised them. "Well, guess I'll take that as a yes.... These are for you..." He hastily chucked four letters onto the table. "...and I gotta go. Bye!"
He zoomed out the door. Literally.
"Hmm..?" Elena leaned forward to retrieve the four envelopes, first claiming her own, handing one to Tseng and one to Rude, and dropping the last on top of the collapsed Reno. "I wonder what these are..." Biting her bottom lip slightly as she opened hers, she quickly skimmed over the piece of parchment. "..Hojo? Party..?" She glanced over at Tseng. "What do you think?"
Rude grumbled, mostly at having to actually speak again. "I can't go. I've got my hair transplant to go to."
"And I've gotta be there for moral support!" Tseng nodded vigorously. "There's nothing more important than feeling good about yourself as a person during a painful and arduous hair transplant! So I guess you and Reno'll have to reacquaint yourselves with old Hojo again by yourselves, eh? Heh-heh..."
She nodded. "Yes, sir. We'll go check it out. Who knows? It might turn into some sort of mission for us. After all, we've been off-duty for weeks..." A grumble at that. Elena, believe or not, loved the job, and she tended to feel sorta down whenever they were out of work. "I'll talk to him about it in the morning, sir. For now..." She pushed both hands lightly against the table to stand up. "...I think I'll go over to the inn and turn in. 'night, you two..." She looked down at Reno one last time, sighed and shook her head, and then headed for the exit of the pub.
"'Night!" Tseng returned a bit over-warmly, cheered at the thought of a hair-transplantin' buddy.
Hm... He thought to himself as Rude gave out an exasperated sigh. I wonder who else is a client of that place...
*~*~*
Chocobo-Head! Sitting on the warm sands of the beaches of Costa del Sol, Cloud seemed rather content. Decked out in neon green swimming trunks with little pink Chocobos, he looked out at the few people in the water. He had just come in to dry off after a short dip in the clear waters, but didn't think he'd be getting in again today. Where did Tifa get off to? She went off to go get the second Where's Waldo book a while ago... Rather miffed, he grumbled at the spikes that were beginning to droop down slightly.
Hearing some footsteps crunching through the sand from behind, he turned quickly, expecting it to be Tifa. "I was wondering where yo--" He blinked to see it was instead a young man, sweating somewhat as he ran towards him.
"Y-you're Cloud Strife, right?" he asked between gasps.
Cloud blinked and slowly nodded, which made the stranger toss a letter into his lap and dart off.
"Mm? What's this...?" He quickly ripped it open and read over the contents. "Hojo? Wait 'til Tifa hears about this..." He placed the opened letter to his side and laid back down to tan some more, and also to read some more of one of his favorite books.
Hmm... I wonder who else likes Where's Waldo...
*~*~*
"BITCH." An innocent looking book was thrown into an exceedingly large pile of sticks in a dirty backyard as calloused hands went for a not-so-innocent can of kerosene lying on the ground. "That's the last time you've had me, you piece of shit..... THE LAST FUCKING TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Liquid splashed upon the doomed objects. A cigarette was placed between fingers and flicked, sending it sailing through the air.
The pile went up in flames
Maniacal, rather frightening giggling was heard. Softly, then louder, and bursting into a crescendo of insane laughter and high-pitched cackling.
The door that joined the backyard and the house was slowly creaked open and there stood a woman in a rumpled nightrobe, dark rings under her eyes and a disgruntled look on her face.
"...What are you doing now..?" she asked sleepily, rubbing at her eyes with one hand and holding the slightly opened door with the other.
"Eh?" The man she was addressing paused from his inane glee, blinking towards the back door of his shared house. He looked a sad sight, his blonde hair ruffled and dirtied with who-knows-what as he stood in a stained pajama shirt buttoned inside-out and halfway crooked with crinkled pajama pants two sizes too small that only hung down to his calves and left the ends of his legs exposed.
She raised her eyebrows at him quizzically. "Cid, it's three in the morning. What are you doing...?" she asked, sounding rather exasperated. "Don't tell me this has to do with that Where's Waldo nonsense... You've been reading that for, what?-- thirty-seven hours... straight?" she questioned.
"Thirty-nine.... and three... quarters.... forty-five... seconds... point.... two... two... two... two.... one....?"
Cid's right eye twitched dangerously as he wrung a spare rag in his calloused hands, finally tearing it down the middle and pulling it apart into iiiiittttyyy biiiiiiiitttttyyyyyy pieces....
Shera was about to say something about how Cid's Aunt Velma shouldn't have sent him that gift certificate to Barnes' and Noble, considering that he was barely literate and all, but was interrupted the young messenger man, who had somehow managed to cross the ten foot barbed wire fence into their backyard. "Cid Highwind?" he panted, one of those familiar envelopes grasped in one hand.
"WHAT?!" Cid barked in his strained voice, causing the messenger to jump two feet in the air before continuing, albeit a bit warily.
"Well, er, um, Mister... Highwind...." He handed the letter to the deranged pilot. "This is for you... and... I will.... go now.... yes."
In a flash, the mysterious delivery man had yet again disappeared.
"Huh." Cid blinked, momentarily sane as he opened the envelope and pulled out its contents After a minute or two of squinting at it, he sighed and walked towards the house, handing it off to Shera as he entered the living room. "You. Read. Now."
Looking a bit flustered as the letter was just shoved towards her, she sighed and went back into the house, reading through the letter as she walked back towards her room. "... don't tell me you're going.." she said over to Cid, only a few paces in front of her.
"Goin' to what...?" The other sighed, rubbing his closed eyelids as he turned towards her and fell back onto their ratty yellow couch.
"This 'party' that Hojo is throwing..." she responded, sighing once again and sitting down next to him. "Didn't you read it?"
".................." Cid glared towards her, avoiding the question altogether. "............Y'think they'll have cigars?"
"You really are hopeless," she muttered, standing and throwing the letter at him as she went towards their room. As she got to the door, she turned back to him for a moment, only to say, "You should really try out some of that group therapy, you know..."
Cid's head shot up, a look of pure disgust on his face. "Therapy....?! Dammit.... I'LL TELL YOU WHEN I NEED SOME FRIKKIN' THERAPY!!!!!"
"Fine, fine," she mumbled, turning her back to him and walking back into the room. She intended to get some sleep.
"Jesus..." Cid muttered to himself, putting his arms back onto the headrest of the couch. " 'Group Therapy'.... Fuck. Wonder what kind of losers do that...."
*~*~*
"It's not... not fair....!" A pale, rather sinister-looking man with dark marks on his face and bright blue hair which defied the very laws of physics sobbed into one of the sleeves of his robe. "All I wanted to do was become the all-powerful destructor of the world... but my wife... my own wife and her boyfriend stopped me just because I was in the way of them murdering his father--his father, I tell you, his father!!!"
Murmurs of sad disbelief arose from the rest of the therapy group as Chelsea, the counselor, wiped tears from the corners of her eyes with a damp handkerchief and walked towards the man, patting him reassuringly on the back.
"There, there...." she said soothingly, smiling sweetly. "Just cry it aaaaallll out....."
"I know just how you feel!" A.... well, an exceedingly feminine man with feathery white hair and purple boots cried out.
"Pssh." A muscular man who was currently fingering a rather large sword in his lap crossed his legs from underneath his black trenchcoat. "You guys are all wimps... Do you even know how to destroy the world properly...?! God..."
"Um..." A man in a red cape and matching bandana blinked his crimson eyes. "Is it just me, or am the only person here not hellbent on world domination...?"
"That's world destruction, thank you very much!" The blue-haired man sniffed back his tears as he corrected the red-caped one. Chelsea had gone to the bathroom for more tissue.
"Yeah, gothboy!" The feathery-haired one growled. "Don't try to berate a traumatized man!"
"GOTHBOY?!?!" The one in crimson shot up to his feet, the golden claw that served as his left hand shaking in midair. "Who are calling 'Gothboy,' THONGMAN?!"
"Thongman" glanced down at the purple underwear and flowing white fabric that covered barely thirty percent of his body. He glared murder at the red- caped man, whose normal stoic expression had returned to his face. "It's not a thong!!!! It's designer wear!!!"
"Sheezus Cristopolis..." The man in the black trenchcoat held his head in one of his black-gloved hands. "You guys are all so pathetic! I swear, my mother could beat you all up..."
When he was met with incredulous, insulted gazes, he looked up rather gravely. "No, seriously, she could."
The red-caped man raised an eyebrow. "And which mother would you be referring to...?"
"Well, duh." Trenchcoat-man rolled his eyes. "Remember the alien infestation at the northern part of the planet...? Jeez, dumbass..."
The red-caped man scowled, putting his claw and hand on his hips as he glared down at the impudent member of the therapy group. "Me? Dumbass? You're the one who's got such an over inflated ego that you can't accept the fact that LUCRECIA GONZALES was, in fact, your mother, and NOT SOME DAMN CRISIS FROM THE SKY!!!!!"
Sephiroth would have probably had Vincent as a shis-ka-bob supreme on his masamune in a minute or two if a very familiar face had not suddenly entered the room.
Within half an hour, they were signed up to go to the infamous party as well, and both were wondering if anyone else had had such a big shock that day....
*~*~*
"Whut thuh hell?" Barret scratched his head, squinting his small brown eyes as he looked towards the horizon. Something was coming towards Corel... and quick. He'd be damned if it was another one of those trains (Cid had barely missed his hometown the other time...) so there he stood, ready for anything to happen as the sight of people repairing the old mining town behind him could be discerned.
Well, that thing that was approaching the small town of Corel at such an impressive pace was the beast known as Red XIII or Nanaki himself. Clamped in his mouth (though he was careful not to drool over them too much) were some pieces of paper. Muscles all worked together in synchronization to launch the beast forward so quickly, causing him to look so elegant as he ran, even though he looked to be such a ferocious one most of the time-- probably because of scars that adorned his body and flame-lighted tail, which was flipping around behind him madly at the moment.
Claws dug deep into the dirt with each stride, his one working eye locking in upon the town as he neared closer and closer. He would have attempted a sort of grin, had he not been holding the paper, at the sight of the big lug known as Barret standing there as if he was waiting for him. He finally arrived, skidding to a stop so that he was neatly arranged in a sitting position right in front of the gun-armed man. Ears perked up slightly as a sort of hello, seeing that he wasn't able to speak thanks to his mouth being full.
"You?" Barret frowned with a bit of disdain, seeing as the imperative work on bringing Corel to its former glory had been interrupted by the intelligent red mutt. With a grumble, he snatched one of the two letters from his mouth, (the one with the least drool on it, incidentally), and ripped it open, pulling out the parchment within and reading it slowly and deliberately.
"A party wit' HOJO?!" He nearly jumped and threw it down, staring at Red in disbelief. "Yo, I pity da foo' who gets a ride to that thing!"
He blinked up at his hasty reaction, dropping the two remaining letters on the ground so that he could speak. "That's what they are? I haven't looked at them yet..." he admitted. He looked down at the other two, one for him and one for Marlene. Looking back up at Barret again, he went about explaining. "A villager found a young man dead right outside of Cosmo. He had these..." He motioned to the letters with his snout. "And the trucker man came to revive him. Seems he died of cardiac arrest."
He shrugged slightly. Of course Barret knew of the trucker man. Almost everyone did, since he was absolutely perfect for filling in plot holes and being a rather stupid recurring joke in this wonderful fanfiction. What else could you expect? "So..." he continued, "you don't want to go?"
"O' course I don't!" Barret scowled, waving his gun-arm in the air angrily. "Knownin' that crazy sunnuva bitch, he's prob'ly gonna turn us all inta toads or sumthin'.... I mean, the only reason I'd go would be if they had pizza....! Y'see, ever since Midgar fell an' all that shit, I've been really cravin' a damn PIZZA!"
He paused and then continued: "....an' if you connect that to that damn analogy I made back in the stone age, I swear, I'll bust a cap in yo dome." To underline his point, he let loose an array of bullets into the stratosphere that eventually fell down to earth again and killed an old hermit named Billy Joe Bob the Champion, but that isn't important to the plot.
Another shrug was given at his outburst. Red, and pretty much all of the group, was rather used to all of Barret's enthusiasm... maybe that wasn't the right word for it, but... his passion when it came to certain things, we'll say. "It might be interesting..." He paced over to where Barret's dropped invitation lay, reading it for himself. He blinked, peering over his shoulder at up at him again, tail twitching slightly, that flame nearing rather close to Barret...
"It says they'll have food here. They might have pizza." Just a statement, really. He didn't even pay much attention to his threat, either, and when the shots were administered, made sure that he wasn't killed as well. He didn't really feel like being revived. It seemed like quite the mucky process, anyhow. "Marlene was invited as well. You should see if she wants to go."
"Well..." Barret paused. The pizza did sound tempting, but then again, having his insides scrambled and then served with tabasco on a platter to some hyperactive lab rat didn't sound tempting at all. Maybe he should see what kind of opinion would come from the mouth of a babe...
"Hey, Marlene!" He turned and called towards one of the makeshift tents, where he knew his daughter was probably playing with dollies or painting flowers or serving illegal, hard whiskey to the five town drunks that bribed her with cash that she had vowed to use to someday buy a mobile home and travel the world with a shotgun and a pet dog named Buck. "Come over here!"
After a few moments, the 'door' to the tent shifted slightly as out came a young girl donned in pink, hands clasped for warmth as she walked over to the two. She smiled somewhat at the sight of the 'doggy', as she would say, and waved a hello to him as she neared towards the two. Always the shy type, as some female children her age were, she simply blinked up at her 'Papa' quizzically, as if to ask him what he wanted. However, she knew she had to at least say something, and so came the most sufficient, "What?"
"Uh," Barret scratched his head with his remaining hand, blinking down at his adoptive daughter. "Ya wanna go to a party? It's gonna be at some freaky-ass mansion in duh middle of da freakin' nowhere... But...!" He grinned. "They're gonna have sum PIZZA!"
What a proposition... a party, hm? She had never really been to one and immediately her eyes brightened at what he said. All that other stuff that he added was quick forgotten (though she probably didn't understand much to begin with), and her decision was enforced even more at the mention of pizza. "A party? Pizza?" She smiled that way that made Barret do whatever she said. "I wanna go!" she exclaimed. Hmm, I guess we have three more candidates for this extravaganza now. After that act from the girl, it
And so, soon, they had packed themselves in the back of the trucker's automobile (he had just happened to conveniently drop by) and the entire FFVII gang had been signed up to go off to the ominous gathering, and no one was wondering about what truly lied ahead...
*~*~*
TO BE CONTINUED... BWAH. HAH. HAH. HACK.
by Court and Erin, the Hovel-Dwellers of DOOM
*~*~*
Summary: Hojo is deprived of a certain show, which causes him to lure certain people to a certain mansion and play a certain game that involves certain bodies to certainly switch.... Insanity at its finest! Read at your own risk...
*~*~*
A/N: Yes, this title WAS, in fact, inspired by IMPUDENCE!!!!
And Chelz. And her evil friends.
Um, right.
Enjoy! :D It'll get better later on, trust us.... MWAHAHAH!
(Proofreading was sparse... so don't blame USSSSSS.)
*~*~*
TEH PROLOGUE OF TEH DOOMZ
Hojo considered himself to be a reasonable man. He really, truly did. But after spending twenty full minutes staring at his television, the mad grin on his face twitching slightly as static filled the screen in front of him, he was feeling very slightly annoyed.
And so, like any reasonable man might do when his ten-year-old TV is broken, he didn't call up the cable company or even a repairman. Oh, no.
Instead, he made very reasonable plans of vengeance against everyone and anyone who had ever been even the slightest bit of annoyance to him during his entire reasonable lifetime.
They would pay for him missing his favorite show.
Oh, yes.
They would pay.
*~*~*
"Whew." Aerith stepped out from the back stable area where all the Chocobo jockeys prepared for their races, wiping her forehead daintily with the back of her hand. She had just finished a race riding her best Chocobo, Vroom. It had been quite the competition, and she was rather tired out by it. However, she did emerge victorious, even if it wasn't as fun to win anymore. Things like that do get old after a while. Luckily, no one was standing outside waiting to get the autograph of the "Master Chocobo Racer", for that was what she was, and so it was no hassle to go down the many stairs and jump through one of the many multi-colored tubes into the Wonder area.
Before, the only things this place offered were the mini-games, but now there were many new additions. One being a Starbucks coffee. And didn't that sound peachy to the tired out jockey now? Maybe she would even see some familiar faces there. Last she heard, Rufus and Reeve were running the place, but this was her first time to visit the coffee shop. Let's see if the rumors are true, she thought with a smile. She also considered Zack might be there, seeing that he had a job here as well. Yes, she and Zack were both alive, revived by one mysterious man. And so she made her way through the Wonder area, finally stepping into the Starbucks, taking a nice whiff of the coffee-tinted air as she entered. She looked around, blinking those emerald eyes. Anyone she knew here?
Brown eyes glanced over the even browner liquid being poured from a large, metallic coffee pot into a small white cup, even though it would have been dubbed "grande" by most who ordered at the counter of the shop. The owner of the eyes sighed slightly, bringing his smooth, untarnished hand to the goatee that encompassed the lower half of his dull, rather downtrodden face and scratching his chin.
"Let's see... was that a caf, decaf, half-caf, or no-caf.....?" He muttered to himself, his eyes narrowed as he stared blankly towards the large see- through window in front of him that displayed an assortment of rather tasty- looking pastries... Yes.... a cinnamon twist would hit the spot right about now......
"That's a DECAF, ya space-cadet!" A high-pitched, rather childlike voice that came from behind the cashier of the establishment, breaking into his hunger-induced fantasies. The mechanical cat whom the voice belonged to hopped once or twice on the countertop behind the cash register, waving his hands in exasperation. "Now get ta work! It's a Saturday, so we're gonna get a lotta customers we gotta serve. so don'tcha be slackin' off or--"
"Oh, please," a smooth, suave voice broke into the speech, laced with arrogance like arsenic in wine. "It's no use, really.... After all, you're only talking to yourself."
The brown-eyed man's eyes narrowed even further as he turned towards the third employee of this particularly dysfunctional coffee shop, his fists clenched at his sides as the cat behind him suddenly froze its movement and seemed to become rather... lifeless.
"Well.... why aren't you doing any work?!?!" He would have been yelling, his nerves more on edge than usual, had he had a more brash personality, but instead, he forced his voice into a controlled growl. "The only thing you've done today is put on that.... that stupid green apron!"
"Yes, exactly," the man lounging at one of the trademark, too-small Starbucks tables returned, turning his head towards his critic. He smiled, like a cat toying with a mouse, as he stretched his neck backwards over the chair and brought the back of his slender hands to the bangs that fell over his forehead, smoothing them behind his ear. "Donning this symbol of sub- par employment is enough torment for one of such high class as me, don't you think, Reeve?"
Reeve just stood there, his eye twitching slightly as he stared at his smooth-talking tormentor.
"I hate you." He managed to mumble, murder suppressed in his eyes.
"Yes, that's what everyone says," Rufus' cat smile grew into a full-fledged tiger's grin as he turned back towards The Wall Street Journal that was poised so elegantly in his well-mannered hands.
Aerith was a bit flustered by all of the going-ons in the place. She hadn't expected to enter into such a ruckus. Well, it seemed like a ruckus in her eyes. I mean, since when were those running a business together supposed to fight. She had to laugh at the scene, however, for the way the three bickered amongst themselves would be humorous to just about anyone. Putting a hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter, she began to wonder just when they would notice her standing there. She was in a PINK outfit, so one would think that she would have caught their attention before, but when you're arguing, it's true that you don't see much else but the one you're quarreling with. Either way, it wasn't too important to speak to any of them at the moment and so she decided to grab a seat and wait for them to finish.
As she examined the table that she was sitting at, a young man entered, looking a bit flustered. He walked towards her, nervously inquiring, "Um, miss... Are you Aerith?" Green eyes blinked as she glanced up at him, then nodding. "I... I see. And... those over there..." A point from him showed that he meant Rufus, Reeve, and Cait. Aerith tilted her head to the side. "They are Cait Sith, Reeve, and Rufus. Why do you ask?" The messenger rubbed the back of his head. "W-well, I was told to deliver these." He then handed her a stack of letters, four, to be exact. She took them, seeming somewhat flustered.
"Hmm..?" The messenger didn't answer her inquiry, simply responding with another question. "Would you happen to know... Zack?" She sighed somewhat, though nodding after a few moments. "Yes... one for him, too?" A smile. "Thanks, miss. Here." And he handed her the last letter and quickly exited. She shook her head, looking down at the big stack she now had in her hand. I suppose it was delivery time for the flower girl.
Cait, or rather Reeve's alter ego, had become bored of watching Rufus and Reeve exchange the cold glares that followed their argument and abandoned the countertop, hopping from it to the ground and then onto Aerith's shoulder. "Hullo, Master Chocobo-Racer!" He addressed her jokingly. He then blinked and peered down at the envelopes she held in her hands. "Whatcha got there, huh?"
She had just been examining what the letters said on their exterior, each being addressed to the respective person, when someone, or something, jumped up onto her shoulder, causing her to jump quite a bit. She snapped her head to look over at the small black cat, blinking slightly at him. "Eh..." she started, it feeling weird to address the cat when he wasn't with his partner, the oversized moogle. "... some man came and gave these to me. Here..." She then started flipping through the envelopes, handing him the one that had written on it in nice, red calligraphy "Cait Sith".
"Oh, hey, a letter for me! Swell!" Cait gave out a meow of delight and quickly crawled up to the topmost part of Aerith's head. With a loud rip, he tore his open with one of his claws, hastily throwing the envelope to the floor and pulling out the parchment inside, which he held in his small, white paws as his eyes ran over the lettering.
"Wow.... It sounds all well-cultured fer being sent to a cat like me! Whoopee! It says... that I'm 'cordially' invited to some fancy-shmancy party! Oh, swell, we'll eat cake an' dinner an' have a great time.... Hey, I could even bring Moggy along too! He's been sooo bored over at the Wonder Square by his lonesome, don'tcha know? But I gotta stay here to help out... well, myself, 'cause I don't know what the heck I'd do wit'out me!" He hopped down from Aerith's head to the counter, and then upon a disgruntled Reeve's shoulder, scrambling to the top like he had with the flower girl and grinning down at his 'partner in mind'. "Ain't that right, me?"
Reeve only stared blankly at the wall in front of him, refusing to look at anything that would worsen his already declining mood. "I swear," he muttered out the side of his mouth. "I should've never let them put your chip in my head... 'Spy'.... 'Extra pay'... Pah. Never seen a damn cent..."
"Er, see?" Cait Sith sweatdropped, rubbing the back of his head with a paw while a strained smile adorned his face. "He needs moral support, the poor fella!"
What a bridge of her privacy, this black cat crawling almost all over her, it seemed. It made her squirm a bit, but she had always gotten along with the cat quite well, despite the fact that he had been a spy and all. That had all been Reeve's doing, after all, and she needn't blame the kitty for that, especially when he was such a cute little thing, and held much better spirits than his human counterpart, moping over at the counter with that disgruntled look.
"A party...?" She bit her lip, not sure what this meant, and then retrieved the letter meant to her, a slender finger rising up to open it up with shocking ease. Her eyes scanned over the paper, and she paled a bit. Hojo? What did that... ugh, that freak want with them? She felt that time when she had been seized my ShinRa and held in the headquarters had been quite enough time spent with the scientist, and loathed the thought of seeing him again.
She peered eerily over at Cait. "You want to go?" She was deadset against it, and that was that. However, she did have common sense, and figured it was best that she deliver the letters to the others as well, and see what they would think of it. And so, with a quick sigh, she paced over to the table where Rufus was sitting, reading, and placed the letter gently before him. She then boldly walked over to the distempered manager and held out his letter to him, emerald eyes seeming to urge him on to take it. She needed to find out what the others thought, after all.
Hm? What's this?" Rufus glared over his newspaper at Aerith and then looked down at the letter condescendingly. He put down the paper and gingerly picked up the envelope by one corner, squinting his sapphire eyes at the return address. "Edward Hojo...? What the hell is that old kook up to this time?"
"I dunno," Cait hopped around a bit on Reeve's head. "But if someone says the word 'party', I'm gonna say the word 'PARTY!'"
Reeve glared upwards at his feline counterpart. "That doesn't even make any sense." He turned his gaze upon the letter and then towards Aerith. "None of this makes any sense! I mean, isn't Hojo dead...?"
"Only about as dead as me and Ancient-Girl here," Rufus said with an exasperated sigh. "The trucker, remember?"
"Right." Reeve refused to look in Rufus' direction as he sarcastically echoed his words. "Trucker."
"Anyway, I think it's extremely stupid to even consider going to any kind of get-together that that madman might arrange..." Rufus growled with contempt as he shook the letter from the same corner, as if trying to remove any kind of poisonous dust. "He could be sending us diseases through these for all we know!"
Aerith growled slightly and frowned at the condescending way that Rufus had to deal with everything, including all of the people that were in the room with him. She had many times felt prone to give him a kick to the face because of that, or maybe just hit him over the head with her Princess Guard, but the somewhat seriousness of the moment helped to refrain her. She had to laugh at the nonsense Cait Sith was saying and the reaction from his maker, Aerith always having been a fan of the robot's enthusiasm.
She smiled sweetly over at Reeve. "Yes. He revived Zack as well, remember?" Exactly. The trucker, namely, the one that had taken Zack and Cloud to Midgar so many years ago, had revived all of those that were supposedly "dead", more to make the lives of the writers much easier than they should be. "So..." She clasped her hands behind her back, biting her lip slightly. "We've got a yes from Cait, a no from Rufus..." She peered over to Reeve yet again. "How about you, Reeve?"
Reeve was about to give a firm "no" when something new occurred to him. He then smiled rather wickedly, "Hm... well... if Rufus isn't going.... I guess I'm in!"
"YEAH!" Cait cried out happily, purring loudly as he scampered onto Reeve's arm and looked up at his other half with awe-filled eyes. "Ya really mean it, pally?!"
"Yup!" Reeve's mood had swung drastically as he scratched the robotic cat's head rather affectionately. "Experimentation, week-old food, cyanide-laced champagne.... God, I don't give a damn as long as he isn't there!"
"I'm flattered, thank you," was Rufus' caustic response as he rolled his eyes and went back to his paper.
Well, then! Two had said yes, one no. Interesting; she hadn't thought that the majority would want to see Hojo again, but it was rather true that this was only a small amount of the people that were probably invited. Plus, there was still a letter to be delivered. She looked down, seeing Zack written on it in bold red. She had better go and get his say on it soon, as well, but she figured that she could hang out around here for a bit.
She smiled somewhat to see how Reeve relished at the thought of him NOT being with Rufus, and then came to wonder how they had started to work together in the first place. Either way, she assumed that Rufus would go, just in order to spite and anger Reeve to death. Sadistic, as she might be to do so, she had to laugh at the thought.
However, Rufus wouldn't acknowledge rather the flower girl was right or wrong in her guess, although the smirk he gave from behind the cover of his newspaper was probably a very good hint... In any case, Cait gave out another meow, launching himself from Reeve's arm to Aerith's head once more. "Oh can I come too, pal? I gotta tell Moggy that he's invited too, y'see!" Aside, he whispered into her ear farthest from Reeve. "An' 'sides, me over there gets reeeeal cranky when he's packin'!"
Well, it was good to have someone to accompany her, if not to simply help ward off the hordes of fans that she had somehow accumulated. She nodded to him, making sure that it was a slight nod so that he didn't fall off, and then said up to him, "So... wanna go pick up Mog and then we'll go visit Zack?" she asked, figuring that made the most sense since Mog was probably hanging around closer to the Starbucks than Zack would be. "Anyhow, you two behave." She was speaking over to Rufus and Reeve, of course. She feared that when they left the two might decided to go at it.
"Don't worry, sweetie," Rufus grinned, looking over his paper once more. "We'll be good boys."
"Oh, shut the hell up," Reeve finally spat. He turned towards Rufus. "You know, I hated you as a boss. You never gave me one raise, not ONE itty bitty one ever!"
"Well, look who's talking, traitor."
"TRAITOR?! You were the one who didn't care how many people got killed as long as you got your mon--"
And that was when Cait urgently tugged the back of Aerith's collar, indicating that now would be a good time to leave.
She cringed a bit at being called 'sweetie' by that abomination, but she supposed she had brought it upon herself, what with smiling at him sweetly. She couldn't help it! It was instinct! Instinct, gosh-darnit. The tug from Cait brought her back to reality, and a rather large sweatdrop appeared on the side of her head as she viewed the two bicker. Back at it, she supposed. Well, there was no way she was going to be able to break it up... once they started, there was no real stopping them, and so she decided she had better slip out of the room in silence, lest they drag her into the quarrel.
Cait was glad that Aerith had not succumbed to her pacifist ways this time, and breathed a sigh of relief that he wouldn't have to stay in that little coffee shop when Reeve and Rufus began to pummel each other, which would no doubt happen soon, the way the day was going....
It was a short walk to the other side of the Wonder Square, and it wasn't long before Cait spotted his large, white-furred friend. "Hey, there he is! An'...." He blinked as another familiar figure came into view. "Speak of the devil, why don'tcha?"
As she was walking, Aerith had been watching children flying by, faces lit up with delight and the like, especially those who were there for their first time. Ever since Sephiroth had been killed, though he was now alive again (thanks to that handy dandy trucker) the price for the Gold Saucer had been lowered quite drastically, which allowed the more underprivileged people to enjoy the theme park as well. Aerith found that quite nice, considering such people appreciated things like this so much more. She smiled somewhat at that, but blinked back into reality once again as Cait spoke. "Mm? Oh!" Emerald orbs brightened as she saw the fluffy white oversized moogle walk towards him, and then spikes of black made themselves known as well for there stood Zack.
She grinned playfully at him, waving him over. He canted his head to the side for a moment, but paced over to the flower girl. "Hey, Aerith," he said, obviously glad to see her. She was his girlfriend, after all. Or is that term too overused? "Whatcha' need? I'll need to get back soon. Paid by how much I work, after all..." He rubbed the back of his head, stirring some of those spikes. "I'll be quick, then," she responded, winking at him.
"Here..." she grabbed the fated invitation and handed to him. He opened it right then and quickly read over it. Eyebrows were raised. "Mm...? Hojo, huh? He's a shady guy if I ever knew one..." With a glare from the pink- clad one, he quickly shaped up. "Err--you wanna know what I think, right? Well... I guess so. What do we have to lose, right?" He shrugged, then went to putting the letter in one of his pockets. "Our lives, possibly..." Aerith muttered. "Oh, come on. It'll be fine! It's been boring just sticking around here anyway. We need to get out every now and then, even if it is going to some madman's mansion." Another of those infamous grins was flashed. Aerith just huffed; she sometimes had to wonder why she was in love with such an idiot.
"Oh!" he quickly added after that. "And we can invite Yuffie to come with us, too!"
Aerith blinked. "Yuffie..? She's here?"
Zack rubbed the back of his head once again. "Uhh.. yeah. She tried to pickpocket me earlier and so I have her working my shift right now since I needed a break." He chuckled nervously at the glare Aerith shot over at him. "Err--- anyway, wanna come with me to talk to her about it?" he warily asked. "I guess so," she mumbled.
Cait and Mog had finished their greetings to each other by then and were blinking dubiously at the two love birds, but mostly at Zack's extreme senility shown by the fact that he didn't have one single worry about going to a party hosted by someone who had seen to it that he was floating half- naked in a tube for an exceedingly long period of time--or any worries of bringing Yuffie along for the ride.
But then again, Cait didn't really care about anything other than the fact that everyone was going to a PARTY so he forgot completely about Zack's unusual reaction and was instead pondering a different item of interest, so intently, in fact :
"Hm... wonder who else got invited...?"
*~*~*
Somewhere in Wutai...
"I have an announcement to make," said the usually silent one of the Turks, otherwise known as Rude. He seemed rather adamant about whatever he was going to say, even standing up at the table where the four of them had been seated. Those four being him, Reno, Elena, and Tseng, of course. Elena jumped slightly at Rude even speaking, being the least used to any utterances coming from the bald one in question. Tseng also seemed a bit surprised, going as far as to raising an eyebrow quizzically. Reno blinked upwards dazedly, his head moving side-to-side a bit as he grinned widely and held up a finger drunkenly towards Rude.
"Lemme guess..." He drawled, twirling his finger in the air and taking another swig of his moonshine. "Yer PREGNANT."
Rude just looked baffled for a moment, and the first to react after a long, uncomfortable silence was Elena, yelling out a rather loud, "RENO!" She stood up and walked over to him, obviously not happy. Rude just rubbed the back of his bald head; it seemed his effort had been quite the failure. He sighed to himself as he watched the spectacle of Elena attempting to try and take Reno's booze away. "...." He still needed to get his point across, but he had no idea how to cease the uproar that had started. Maybe Tseng could give him a hand? He was their leader, after all, and had also been so conveniently revived by the trucker, who now was head of a rather successful privately owned establishment titled "Revivization Inc--When Phoenix Down Isn't Part of the Plotline!"
Tseng looked over his charges, sighing once before taking immediate action. In one single, swift motion, he stepped to Elena and Reno, grabbed the half- empty bottle, and using its hard surface rather efficiently, had caused two large bumps to arise on both of their heads.
"....As you were saying...." He gave a dangerous, forced smile.
"Agh!" whined Elena after the deserving clump, one hand resting on the hurt area as she sat back down in her seat, pouting slightly. If it had been anyone else but Tseng, she would have chewed them out... geez, liking your boss had some extreme disadvantages. She peered up at Rude, figuring she might as well listen now that the problem had been remedied... sort of. Besides, how often did someone get to even hear the guy say anything?
Reno didn't.
"Y'know, deyz gots programs..." He hiccupped just as he got another hard- earned whack over the head from Tseng. With a disgruntled snort, he finally decided to silence his overly big (and foul-smelling) mouth.
The bald one cleared his throat and waited a few moments after that, for some sort of emphasis, but soon announced, "I will be getting a hair transplant."
There was one rare moment when none of the Turks could find any words to describe their innermost feelings.
Then...
"....WHAT?!?!?!"
"Well, I was thinking about how all you people have so many fans and I seem to be the least popular person of the group, so I decided that it was either because of how little I talked or how little hair I had, so I realized I needed to change one or the other." He shrugged. "Hair seemed easier."
Those were the most words Elena had ever heard Rude speak in one sitting, or rather, standing, but that was besides the point. "Easier..? Well... I've never even heard of hair transplants..."
"You've never heard of them...?" Tseng looked down at Elena in shock. "You can get them for 45.97 gil per approximately three-by-three centimeter clump at Claire Billy Joe Bob's Hair Transplant Palace in Kalm village, area code 30445 on Rogaine Street, just off of Pantene Pro-V Junction!"
She blinked at him in bewilderment. "Umm... and how do you know all of that...?" she asked, a bit hesitantly. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer, but let's just say she was feeling bold.
"Um.... I just.... know... these... things..." Tseng glanced around suspiciously, instinctively bringing his hands to a few strands of hair that came over his shoulder and stroking them lovingly. "Yes.... I know... these... mmm.... my preeeccciioouusss....."
Reno just looked at everyone blearily and obliviously for a few seconds. He finally spoke self-importantly and loud enough too so that most of the bar's customers turned their heads a ways.
"I told youz all and I'll tell youz all again...." He raised himself to his wobbling legs, emphasizing each of his words with a bang to the table. "SEXUAL ABSTINENCE IS THE ONLY SOLUTION!!!!!!"
Rude should have known he would get reactions from his comrades, and was seriously beginning to contemplate why he was with this ragtag group of drunks, dimwits, and hair-lovers in the first place. Well, no use worrying about it. He just sighed and sat back down again.
Elena gave Tseng a rather scared look and scooted her chair away from the table slightly, then jumped a bit as Reno banged his hands down on furniture's surface; this was so very humiliating. She had a feeling they were going to get kicked out again. Like that one other time...
"Hey, you psychos!" An angered yell suddenly came from the direction of the bar's counter. "If you don't all shut up I'm gonna kick you out like that other time!"
"Er--" Tseng managed to cease his hair-caressing long enough to shoot a glare at the bartender. "Yes.... sir.... Egh." He sighed and closed his eyes, walking to Rude and throwing an arm over the taller man's shoulder. "Well, then... the going may get tough, but let me tell you, Rude, that no matter what happens, we'll be there for you, and I personally shall accompany you to that end of the laser and back so that you may experience complete and utter moral support!"
"I'll picket yer rights, bud!" Reno gave a lopsided smile. "The abortion controversy is an uuuuuugly thing, yeah..."
Rude sweatdropped at the yell from the 'tender, and was about to try and somehow get Reno to calm down before Tseng came over. He looked slowly over at him, and did not seem too happy. They were all making fun of him, weren't they? He just sighed once again and looked down at the table. He was considering getting hammered as well... that seemed to fix everything. Well, until the next morning...
Elena shot a side-glance at Reno. "... you are really too much.." She pulled her gun out of the holster at her waist, spun it around so that she was holding it by the barrel, and just clomped him over the head with the handle. It was quite obvious she had done such before. She ignored the loud WHUMP of Reno's head hitting the table and the even louder WHUMP of his body falling out of the chair and onto the floor. She rubbed at her temples with one hand as she returned the gun with the other. "Mm... so, Rude, you getting the transplant tomorrow?"
He just nodded. He had done enough talking for a lifetime.
Whatever other insanity that would have followed was suddenly interrupted by the panting of a young man as he ran into the tavern and ran over to the Bluesuits.
"Um.... You guys the..." He glanced down at a piece of paper in his hand. "The... The Turks...?"
He forced a smile at the blank stares that met his eyes when he raised them. "Well, guess I'll take that as a yes.... These are for you..." He hastily chucked four letters onto the table. "...and I gotta go. Bye!"
He zoomed out the door. Literally.
"Hmm..?" Elena leaned forward to retrieve the four envelopes, first claiming her own, handing one to Tseng and one to Rude, and dropping the last on top of the collapsed Reno. "I wonder what these are..." Biting her bottom lip slightly as she opened hers, she quickly skimmed over the piece of parchment. "..Hojo? Party..?" She glanced over at Tseng. "What do you think?"
Rude grumbled, mostly at having to actually speak again. "I can't go. I've got my hair transplant to go to."
"And I've gotta be there for moral support!" Tseng nodded vigorously. "There's nothing more important than feeling good about yourself as a person during a painful and arduous hair transplant! So I guess you and Reno'll have to reacquaint yourselves with old Hojo again by yourselves, eh? Heh-heh..."
She nodded. "Yes, sir. We'll go check it out. Who knows? It might turn into some sort of mission for us. After all, we've been off-duty for weeks..." A grumble at that. Elena, believe or not, loved the job, and she tended to feel sorta down whenever they were out of work. "I'll talk to him about it in the morning, sir. For now..." She pushed both hands lightly against the table to stand up. "...I think I'll go over to the inn and turn in. 'night, you two..." She looked down at Reno one last time, sighed and shook her head, and then headed for the exit of the pub.
"'Night!" Tseng returned a bit over-warmly, cheered at the thought of a hair-transplantin' buddy.
Hm... He thought to himself as Rude gave out an exasperated sigh. I wonder who else is a client of that place...
*~*~*
Chocobo-Head! Sitting on the warm sands of the beaches of Costa del Sol, Cloud seemed rather content. Decked out in neon green swimming trunks with little pink Chocobos, he looked out at the few people in the water. He had just come in to dry off after a short dip in the clear waters, but didn't think he'd be getting in again today. Where did Tifa get off to? She went off to go get the second Where's Waldo book a while ago... Rather miffed, he grumbled at the spikes that were beginning to droop down slightly.
Hearing some footsteps crunching through the sand from behind, he turned quickly, expecting it to be Tifa. "I was wondering where yo--" He blinked to see it was instead a young man, sweating somewhat as he ran towards him.
"Y-you're Cloud Strife, right?" he asked between gasps.
Cloud blinked and slowly nodded, which made the stranger toss a letter into his lap and dart off.
"Mm? What's this...?" He quickly ripped it open and read over the contents. "Hojo? Wait 'til Tifa hears about this..." He placed the opened letter to his side and laid back down to tan some more, and also to read some more of one of his favorite books.
Hmm... I wonder who else likes Where's Waldo...
*~*~*
"BITCH." An innocent looking book was thrown into an exceedingly large pile of sticks in a dirty backyard as calloused hands went for a not-so-innocent can of kerosene lying on the ground. "That's the last time you've had me, you piece of shit..... THE LAST FUCKING TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Liquid splashed upon the doomed objects. A cigarette was placed between fingers and flicked, sending it sailing through the air.
The pile went up in flames
Maniacal, rather frightening giggling was heard. Softly, then louder, and bursting into a crescendo of insane laughter and high-pitched cackling.
The door that joined the backyard and the house was slowly creaked open and there stood a woman in a rumpled nightrobe, dark rings under her eyes and a disgruntled look on her face.
"...What are you doing now..?" she asked sleepily, rubbing at her eyes with one hand and holding the slightly opened door with the other.
"Eh?" The man she was addressing paused from his inane glee, blinking towards the back door of his shared house. He looked a sad sight, his blonde hair ruffled and dirtied with who-knows-what as he stood in a stained pajama shirt buttoned inside-out and halfway crooked with crinkled pajama pants two sizes too small that only hung down to his calves and left the ends of his legs exposed.
She raised her eyebrows at him quizzically. "Cid, it's three in the morning. What are you doing...?" she asked, sounding rather exasperated. "Don't tell me this has to do with that Where's Waldo nonsense... You've been reading that for, what?-- thirty-seven hours... straight?" she questioned.
"Thirty-nine.... and three... quarters.... forty-five... seconds... point.... two... two... two... two.... one....?"
Cid's right eye twitched dangerously as he wrung a spare rag in his calloused hands, finally tearing it down the middle and pulling it apart into iiiiittttyyy biiiiiiiitttttyyyyyy pieces....
Shera was about to say something about how Cid's Aunt Velma shouldn't have sent him that gift certificate to Barnes' and Noble, considering that he was barely literate and all, but was interrupted the young messenger man, who had somehow managed to cross the ten foot barbed wire fence into their backyard. "Cid Highwind?" he panted, one of those familiar envelopes grasped in one hand.
"WHAT?!" Cid barked in his strained voice, causing the messenger to jump two feet in the air before continuing, albeit a bit warily.
"Well, er, um, Mister... Highwind...." He handed the letter to the deranged pilot. "This is for you... and... I will.... go now.... yes."
In a flash, the mysterious delivery man had yet again disappeared.
"Huh." Cid blinked, momentarily sane as he opened the envelope and pulled out its contents After a minute or two of squinting at it, he sighed and walked towards the house, handing it off to Shera as he entered the living room. "You. Read. Now."
Looking a bit flustered as the letter was just shoved towards her, she sighed and went back into the house, reading through the letter as she walked back towards her room. "... don't tell me you're going.." she said over to Cid, only a few paces in front of her.
"Goin' to what...?" The other sighed, rubbing his closed eyelids as he turned towards her and fell back onto their ratty yellow couch.
"This 'party' that Hojo is throwing..." she responded, sighing once again and sitting down next to him. "Didn't you read it?"
".................." Cid glared towards her, avoiding the question altogether. "............Y'think they'll have cigars?"
"You really are hopeless," she muttered, standing and throwing the letter at him as she went towards their room. As she got to the door, she turned back to him for a moment, only to say, "You should really try out some of that group therapy, you know..."
Cid's head shot up, a look of pure disgust on his face. "Therapy....?! Dammit.... I'LL TELL YOU WHEN I NEED SOME FRIKKIN' THERAPY!!!!!"
"Fine, fine," she mumbled, turning her back to him and walking back into the room. She intended to get some sleep.
"Jesus..." Cid muttered to himself, putting his arms back onto the headrest of the couch. " 'Group Therapy'.... Fuck. Wonder what kind of losers do that...."
*~*~*
"It's not... not fair....!" A pale, rather sinister-looking man with dark marks on his face and bright blue hair which defied the very laws of physics sobbed into one of the sleeves of his robe. "All I wanted to do was become the all-powerful destructor of the world... but my wife... my own wife and her boyfriend stopped me just because I was in the way of them murdering his father--his father, I tell you, his father!!!"
Murmurs of sad disbelief arose from the rest of the therapy group as Chelsea, the counselor, wiped tears from the corners of her eyes with a damp handkerchief and walked towards the man, patting him reassuringly on the back.
"There, there...." she said soothingly, smiling sweetly. "Just cry it aaaaallll out....."
"I know just how you feel!" A.... well, an exceedingly feminine man with feathery white hair and purple boots cried out.
"Pssh." A muscular man who was currently fingering a rather large sword in his lap crossed his legs from underneath his black trenchcoat. "You guys are all wimps... Do you even know how to destroy the world properly...?! God..."
"Um..." A man in a red cape and matching bandana blinked his crimson eyes. "Is it just me, or am the only person here not hellbent on world domination...?"
"That's world destruction, thank you very much!" The blue-haired man sniffed back his tears as he corrected the red-caped one. Chelsea had gone to the bathroom for more tissue.
"Yeah, gothboy!" The feathery-haired one growled. "Don't try to berate a traumatized man!"
"GOTHBOY?!?!" The one in crimson shot up to his feet, the golden claw that served as his left hand shaking in midair. "Who are calling 'Gothboy,' THONGMAN?!"
"Thongman" glanced down at the purple underwear and flowing white fabric that covered barely thirty percent of his body. He glared murder at the red- caped man, whose normal stoic expression had returned to his face. "It's not a thong!!!! It's designer wear!!!"
"Sheezus Cristopolis..." The man in the black trenchcoat held his head in one of his black-gloved hands. "You guys are all so pathetic! I swear, my mother could beat you all up..."
When he was met with incredulous, insulted gazes, he looked up rather gravely. "No, seriously, she could."
The red-caped man raised an eyebrow. "And which mother would you be referring to...?"
"Well, duh." Trenchcoat-man rolled his eyes. "Remember the alien infestation at the northern part of the planet...? Jeez, dumbass..."
The red-caped man scowled, putting his claw and hand on his hips as he glared down at the impudent member of the therapy group. "Me? Dumbass? You're the one who's got such an over inflated ego that you can't accept the fact that LUCRECIA GONZALES was, in fact, your mother, and NOT SOME DAMN CRISIS FROM THE SKY!!!!!"
Sephiroth would have probably had Vincent as a shis-ka-bob supreme on his masamune in a minute or two if a very familiar face had not suddenly entered the room.
Within half an hour, they were signed up to go to the infamous party as well, and both were wondering if anyone else had had such a big shock that day....
*~*~*
"Whut thuh hell?" Barret scratched his head, squinting his small brown eyes as he looked towards the horizon. Something was coming towards Corel... and quick. He'd be damned if it was another one of those trains (Cid had barely missed his hometown the other time...) so there he stood, ready for anything to happen as the sight of people repairing the old mining town behind him could be discerned.
Well, that thing that was approaching the small town of Corel at such an impressive pace was the beast known as Red XIII or Nanaki himself. Clamped in his mouth (though he was careful not to drool over them too much) were some pieces of paper. Muscles all worked together in synchronization to launch the beast forward so quickly, causing him to look so elegant as he ran, even though he looked to be such a ferocious one most of the time-- probably because of scars that adorned his body and flame-lighted tail, which was flipping around behind him madly at the moment.
Claws dug deep into the dirt with each stride, his one working eye locking in upon the town as he neared closer and closer. He would have attempted a sort of grin, had he not been holding the paper, at the sight of the big lug known as Barret standing there as if he was waiting for him. He finally arrived, skidding to a stop so that he was neatly arranged in a sitting position right in front of the gun-armed man. Ears perked up slightly as a sort of hello, seeing that he wasn't able to speak thanks to his mouth being full.
"You?" Barret frowned with a bit of disdain, seeing as the imperative work on bringing Corel to its former glory had been interrupted by the intelligent red mutt. With a grumble, he snatched one of the two letters from his mouth, (the one with the least drool on it, incidentally), and ripped it open, pulling out the parchment within and reading it slowly and deliberately.
"A party wit' HOJO?!" He nearly jumped and threw it down, staring at Red in disbelief. "Yo, I pity da foo' who gets a ride to that thing!"
He blinked up at his hasty reaction, dropping the two remaining letters on the ground so that he could speak. "That's what they are? I haven't looked at them yet..." he admitted. He looked down at the other two, one for him and one for Marlene. Looking back up at Barret again, he went about explaining. "A villager found a young man dead right outside of Cosmo. He had these..." He motioned to the letters with his snout. "And the trucker man came to revive him. Seems he died of cardiac arrest."
He shrugged slightly. Of course Barret knew of the trucker man. Almost everyone did, since he was absolutely perfect for filling in plot holes and being a rather stupid recurring joke in this wonderful fanfiction. What else could you expect? "So..." he continued, "you don't want to go?"
"O' course I don't!" Barret scowled, waving his gun-arm in the air angrily. "Knownin' that crazy sunnuva bitch, he's prob'ly gonna turn us all inta toads or sumthin'.... I mean, the only reason I'd go would be if they had pizza....! Y'see, ever since Midgar fell an' all that shit, I've been really cravin' a damn PIZZA!"
He paused and then continued: "....an' if you connect that to that damn analogy I made back in the stone age, I swear, I'll bust a cap in yo dome." To underline his point, he let loose an array of bullets into the stratosphere that eventually fell down to earth again and killed an old hermit named Billy Joe Bob the Champion, but that isn't important to the plot.
Another shrug was given at his outburst. Red, and pretty much all of the group, was rather used to all of Barret's enthusiasm... maybe that wasn't the right word for it, but... his passion when it came to certain things, we'll say. "It might be interesting..." He paced over to where Barret's dropped invitation lay, reading it for himself. He blinked, peering over his shoulder at up at him again, tail twitching slightly, that flame nearing rather close to Barret...
"It says they'll have food here. They might have pizza." Just a statement, really. He didn't even pay much attention to his threat, either, and when the shots were administered, made sure that he wasn't killed as well. He didn't really feel like being revived. It seemed like quite the mucky process, anyhow. "Marlene was invited as well. You should see if she wants to go."
"Well..." Barret paused. The pizza did sound tempting, but then again, having his insides scrambled and then served with tabasco on a platter to some hyperactive lab rat didn't sound tempting at all. Maybe he should see what kind of opinion would come from the mouth of a babe...
"Hey, Marlene!" He turned and called towards one of the makeshift tents, where he knew his daughter was probably playing with dollies or painting flowers or serving illegal, hard whiskey to the five town drunks that bribed her with cash that she had vowed to use to someday buy a mobile home and travel the world with a shotgun and a pet dog named Buck. "Come over here!"
After a few moments, the 'door' to the tent shifted slightly as out came a young girl donned in pink, hands clasped for warmth as she walked over to the two. She smiled somewhat at the sight of the 'doggy', as she would say, and waved a hello to him as she neared towards the two. Always the shy type, as some female children her age were, she simply blinked up at her 'Papa' quizzically, as if to ask him what he wanted. However, she knew she had to at least say something, and so came the most sufficient, "What?"
"Uh," Barret scratched his head with his remaining hand, blinking down at his adoptive daughter. "Ya wanna go to a party? It's gonna be at some freaky-ass mansion in duh middle of da freakin' nowhere... But...!" He grinned. "They're gonna have sum PIZZA!"
What a proposition... a party, hm? She had never really been to one and immediately her eyes brightened at what he said. All that other stuff that he added was quick forgotten (though she probably didn't understand much to begin with), and her decision was enforced even more at the mention of pizza. "A party? Pizza?" She smiled that way that made Barret do whatever she said. "I wanna go!" she exclaimed. Hmm, I guess we have three more candidates for this extravaganza now. After that act from the girl, it
And so, soon, they had packed themselves in the back of the trucker's automobile (he had just happened to conveniently drop by) and the entire FFVII gang had been signed up to go off to the ominous gathering, and no one was wondering about what truly lied ahead...
*~*~*
TO BE CONTINUED... BWAH. HAH. HAH. HACK.