Nibelungasaga
By: Riku
April 26, 2011
Edited January 10, 2012
Summary: In which Genesis suffers the pains of bad editing.
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII: Crisis Core its characters, world, etc. belong to Square Enix. All I own are the plot and a few minor OCs. Daggett's name I borrowed from the John Wayne True Grit.
A/N: Real life inspiration makes for interesting fiction (sometimes.) Hopefully this is one of them. Replace North Continent Mythology with Norse Mythology and Nibelungasaga with Volsungasaga. There are enough references to Norse Mythology in VII to make this plausible, plus I'm a little frustrated with the poor editing of my (Kindle) copy of Volsungasaga which is identical to Gen's problem—Gen of course would be furious, thus the following.
I have decided, more for convenience sake than anything, that summer in Gongaga—Zack's hometown—is like summer in Southwest Texas. 100+ degrees Fahrenheit more-than-less daily and humid beyond all reason.
Genesis Rhapsodos had been obsessing over North Continent mythology for the past six months or so after serendipitously discovering an old copy of Lays of the North in a secondhand book store off Loveless Avenue. In fact, he was about to drive his two best friends mad between this latest obsession and Loveless—his first love.
But he couldn't help it. Genesis was moved by the power and force behind the terse stanzas.
And now he had finally gotten his hands on the Nibelungasaga—a prose telling of his favorite lays.
Genesis curled up on his sofa thoroughly intending to read the whole thing before dinner if it killed him.
As he read he began to notice the occasional typo. He shrugged it off; editors were only human after all and fully capable of such small mistakes. Nothing to get worked up over. But the typos kept recurring—with greater frequency—and worse yet where the original lays were clearly meant to be quoted—blanks.
SACRILEGE!
Genesis stormed onto the Turk floor and commandeered one of their computers to dig up information on the editor of the sad-excuse-for-a-book he'd been throttling.
Once he had an address he stomped into the Shin-Ra building's garage, only to remember that his car was at the mechanics because somehow the engine had blown up—through no fault of his own, of course. Genesis whirled around, stalked back to the SOLDIER floor, grabbed Angeal by the arm, and dragged him back to the garage.
Genesis angrily jabbed a finger at Angeal's car. "Get in," he growled.
Angeal dug his key out of his pocket with one hand and held the other up placatingly. He had long ago discovered that it was better to go along with Genesis when he was like this.
Once inside the sensible little car, Genesis shoved a scrap of paper in Angeal's face and growled again. "Drive."
Angeal grabbed the paper and moved it out to reading distance. It was a piece of—what he hoped wasn't important—paperwork…from the Turks' offices. One of Angeal's eyebrows quirked up in confused dismay. He flipped the paper over and read off the address Genesis had scrawled—darkly—in his anger.
As Angeal left the garage he prayed this wasn't leading to bloodshed. One quick glance at Genesis' rage-reddened face told him that if he didn't do something about it, there would be.
The address belonged to a spruce building that housed a small publishing company.
Genesis nearly burst the door off its hinges in his rage.
The secretary gaped at the red-haired SOLDIER First in what was rapidly approaching abject terror.
"Who edited this?" Genesis' voice had taken on a dangerous soft quality, like silk draped over the blade of sword.
The secretary trembled in her seat. "Daggett," she squeaked.
"Where?" Genesis' eyes were sparking-blue fire now that he was so close to his prey.
The secretary pointed at a door to the Firsts' right and Genesis stormed through it.
The editor was a short mousy-looking man with thinning mousy-brown hair around the sides of his head and enormous round glasses over weak, mousy-grey eyes.
He never stood a snowball's chance in a Gongagan summer.
"Fix it," Genesis said in that same dangerous, low tone.
"F-fix wh-what?" Daggett stammered.
Genesis shoved the crumpled book under the editor's mousy-brown mustache. "This. And this," he fanned the pages, "All of it!"
"I c-can get you a n-new one…"
"I don't want a new one. I want it fixed." Genesis's clenched fist was beginning to glow red.
"B-but…"
"NOW!" The air around the red-haired First was growing perceptibly warmer.
The book began to smolder.
Angeal laid one large hand on Genesis's shoulder. "Gen," whispered, warning.
"I-I'll get r-right on it, s-sir."
"See that you do," Genesis jerked around and stormed from the office.
Angeal turned an apologetic smile on Daggett, "Thank you for your help. And I apologize for my friend's behavior."
As Angeal walked by the secretary's desk she stopped him with a wary question, "Is he…always…like that?"
"Define always," Angeal responded, a touch of wry humor in his voice.
Genesis was leaning against the car with his arms crossed over his chest when Angeal stepped out of the building and closed the door.
"What was that about?" Angeal asked as they climbed into the car, clearly gearing up for a lecture.
"They ruined it," now that his anger was spent, Genesis sounded like a distressed child.
Genesis held up the once-was book and launched into a disheartened rant on the subject of shoddy editing.
By the time they had returned to the SOLDIER floor Angeal was chuckling softly.
"Is that all?" Angeal replied, unlocking his apartment door.
"Is what all?" Genesis followed Angeal inside, past the Puppy passed out on the couch, and over to a good-sized bookshelf.
"You're not the only one who reads," Angeal said as he pulled a book down from the top shelf.
Genesis stared almost reverently at its brown cover, "May I…?"
"Knock yourself out," Angeal shrugged as he flopped down in the space by Zack's feet with a book of his own.
Genesis glided over to an armchair near the couch, nose already buried in Angeal's copy of Nibelungasaga.
Fin