'allo, my peeps! Just a tiny little drabble. And also my parents were yelling at me to go to dinner. So yeah. Enjoy. And I don't own FFVII. Baww, boohoo, tears, etc. etc.
--
She was going to hell. Yuffie was sure of it.
The cruel gleam of metal, the sadistic light of the overhead fluorescent bulbs, the 105 degree Fahrenheit temperature of the room, even the boxy shape of the confined space she was in were indicative of that fact.
Yuffie sat down and whimpered, curled up into the fetal position. Her stomach was protesting its cruel and unusual punishment while her viscera marched around with picket signs, generally making a nuisance of themselves. She wished she could tell them to shut up, only she didn't have the strength to do so.
Her head dropped to her knees, making a hollow thunk. "Please, Leviathan, forgive me…I only meant to steal materia for Wutai, for your former glory! I was so not a kleptomaniac. If you want someone to punish, punish Godo! He wasn't much of a father figure, anyway," she babbled to the tastelessly picked-out carpeting.
"…" the carpet deadpanned.
"How does it feel to be stepped on, underfoot all day?" Yuffie interrogated it. "Must get pretty crappy, getting dog shit all over you. No pun intended. Why don't you rebel? Be the stronger man, and all that jazz. Revolutions are pretty popular these days. I bet you'd succeed."
The carpet didn't even bother to reply with an answer.
Yuffie gave up. She tried the closed rusty doors instead, eyeing them as a sexually frustrated man eyes a woman (if the woman were fifty-two, double-chinned, overweight, and had terrible B.O.). That is to say, with revulsion.
"I hate you," she said to the doors.
They hummed and creaked, which made Yuffie brighten up considerably.
"IhateyouIhateyou."
Buzz-hum-creak-hmmmmm.
"Your prime is past, Rusty Doors. Gone are your days of seducing patrons! On the other hand, I am the prime example of HURRK-"
ScrAeekEeeeeEeeEscREeAAACk!
Yuffie sprawled out on the floor as her stomach stopped protesting and promptly decided to replace her brain as the head of her body (haha, no pun intended!), while her brain decided to look for more work elsewhere in her body. The two collided somewhere in her neck, agreed that it wasn't worth it, and brain and stomach returned to their proper duties. Mainly: not working and making Yuffie sick, respectively.
"Shut up before I puke all over you," Yuffie croaked to the doors as they slid open with a courteous "ping".
God, she hated elevators.
