A/N: Just so you know, this is gonna be totally out of character, everyone except Fran. Fran's pretty much the same. But anyway, this idea has been in my head for a while, a Final Fantasy XII/ Repo the Genetic Opera story. What's sucks is that this could have totally been turned into a good descriptive lemon, but I could force myself to. Man, I suck. But I love them both so much. Oh, I put the stage version of the song 21st Century Cure from Repo to give a little bit of a briefing on the world. Pretty much organ failures hit the planet, millions dead. Geneco arose swooped in with affordable organs with payment plans, but if you missed payment, they'd be repossessed by RepoMen. With the organ craze, surgery became a fashion statement, and out of it came Zydrate, an addictive drug. It's sort of like a mix of anesthesia and vicadin. However there are illegal dealers who extract the Zydrate from corpses.

The movie kicks ass so any who haven't watched it yet, do so. Just maybe not with your family. Not really a family fun filled movie. It's sorta like a mix of Rocky Horror Picture Show, Saw, and Alice in Wonderland. And for all ye who haven't played Final Fantasy XII, play it. So much fun with a wonderful V.A. cast, soundtrack, and plot. Characters are amazing and the graphics are really good. It's for PS2.

Wow, I spent a lot of time explaining. Well, here's the song, so maybe it'll explain better than I do. Well, I hope you enjoy and PLEASE! PLEASE! Review! I want to know your opinion on this, be it good or bad! Thank you.

Industrialization has crippled the globe

And nature failed as technology spread

And in this wake

A market erected

And entire industry built on the dead

But I trade not in bones or in kidneys

For every market, a submarket grows

And there is more than just diamonds and rubies

Underneath the concrete below

Its clean, Its clear, Its pure

It could ease your mind, rest assured

It's the 21st century's cure

And it's my job

to steal and rob GRAVES

Wait! That's the girl from last night! Did you do this? Are you the Repo guy?

No kid. Just a scavenger

What can you tell me about repossession?

Repossessions? It all began at the turn of the century. Neuro-overstimulation syndrome.

N.O.S?

Yes! It struck half the planet. Organs were failing, some ten million dead.

Then Geneco?

Bingo! They rode in like heroes.

Affordable organs

Fashion unsurpassed.

So Geneco could lease you and piece you together like assets

Sweeter yet still comes from those who have passed

Vaan looked at his own reflection and ran his fingers through his dyed blonde hair in the shards of a broken mirror that lay in the bottom of the garbage bin. He was so tired of his face. It had been almost two weeks since his last surgery, giving himself a better nose and he felt he was due for another since he had recently come into some money, stolen from one of the upper class citizens of Sanatarium Square.

"When are you going?" Vaan looked back over his shoulder at Penelo, his childhood friend. She looked exhausted, he newly died hair messy and undone, breast half falling out of her shirt, and boots in hand. She tossed her shoes into the bin before hopping in herself.

Both Vaan and Penelo's parents had died in the terrible epidemic that caused organ failures in millions when they were small, forcing them to live a rather uncomfortable life with Reks, Vaan's older brother, with the only one with an income to support them in an unkind world. Unfortunately Reks couldn't support the three of them and pay off his debts. Unable to pay off the debt for his kidney replacement, he was quickly hunted down by the Repoman, his Geneco Organs repossessed. After that, the two young teens had no choice but to live off the streets and survive. That wasn't to pleasant since they could do nothing but turn to thievery and prostitution, the later being mainly Penelo's speciality.

However, there were things about living this way that were completely worth it.

"I guess now. The Gencops are still out and about and I'm not keen on getting killed, but if I'm careful I'll be fine," Vaan laughed, flipping a gold coin between his fingers, which were hidden behind black leather gloves. Penelo sighed, running her finger down the healing scar that ran across her chest.

"Try not to get shot," Penelo smirked. "Say hi for me, will ya? Try to convince him to give me a discount next time." Vaan shrugged through a tattered blanker at his friend.

"See ya Pen."

His heavy boots crunch the trash underneath as he walked down the alleyways, avoiding the junkies and the streams of goo that dripped down from above. It wasn't the most hygenic place, but Vaan would be beyond happy if he could live there forever. The soft glow of burning trash cans caught Vaan's attention. Knowing he was there, he stepped out of the dark alley into the small garbage area behind one of the cities clothing stores.

He was immediately met with lips crashing onto his, sloppy and wet.

"Get the hell of Ashe," Vaan grumbled, trying to pushing the older woman off of him. The former president's daughter, a woman of power before her father fell to Geneco's grip, refused to let go of him, running her tongue down his neck. Vaan could tell by the fresh cuts on her neck and face that she was still under the effects. Most of the other addicts, dressed from all leather and lace to nothing at all, simply watched in amusement. Those who weren't watching were shamelessly having sex behind, on top of, or inside of the trash bins.

"Please let go of our clientele."

Ashe was thrown quickly down to the wet grounds, confused and dizzy. Looking up with her newly colored eyes, which were now a lilac color, she saw Fran staring down at her with cold red eyes. Ashe stayed down.

Fran was the only one person Vaan had ever know that had not taken pleasure in surgery. The boy could find some things that would benefit from operation, such as her abnormally long feet and rather unusual nose, but other than that she was rather gorgeous. Tall with beautiful legs, breasts barely covered and silvery hair caused by an old blood disorder that made a wonderful contrast with her dark skin. There was always a thought in his mind to ask her how much but her menacing scowl made the thoughts disappear. With his own clients, he would only take women who could pull off the wildest expressions and most erotic of sounds. Fran did not quite fit the bill.

Fran threw a rock up onto the roof, hitting someone for there was a groan of pain. A smile spread on Vaan's lips, recognizing the delicious accent as profanities came from the roof.

"Shit, why the fuck are you waking me for Fran!" Laying half over the edge was a very sleepy and irritated dealer, light brown hair cut short and ears filled with piercings. Looking down from the roof with mischievous smile, Balthier gave a chesire cat like smile at the sight of Vaan, whose hair was currently being played with by Fran, who was twisting her finger through his blonde hair. "Ah. I see we have a customer. Glad to see you again Vaan." Balthier jumped down from the roof rather gracefully, fixing his collar which was covered in coagulated blood and decaying matter. Obviously he had been out harvesting.

"Do you have money boy?" Fran slipped her hands into his cargo pant pocket looking for a wallet or bag. He quickly slapped her away and pulled out a small bag filled with gold coins from under his dark red sash belt. He tossed it into Balthier's hand who opened it and rummaged through with a heavy jeweled hand. He gave a small frown.

"This isn't nearly enough you do know," Balthier sighed, pocketing the money and turning to leave. Fran roughly pushed the boy away at the information. Vaan slammed his fist onto the ground below him. He hated how the man constantly rose his prices. But he needed that surgery. He'd go nuts if he didn't. Gritting his teeth, he ran after Balthier, who could actually move quite fast.

The sudden blasting of music that could possibly be heard throughout the entire island caused Vaan to lose his balance, falling forward. Luckily he managed to catch a piece of the dealer's shirt, causing him to fall down as well. He did not let go of the material.

"God damn opera!" Balthier growled, standing up once Fran ripped the orphan from him.

"Tonight is Blind Mag's last performance," Fran explained to the man with the same neutral face.

"I don't care if some damn woman is singing. Doesn't give them the right to make the whole city go deaf, even if its good for business." The giant flying monitors that hovered above the city in the sky with glowing images of Blind Mag, the opera superstar and face of Geneco. Tonight was her last performance, but most people with common sense knew it'd probably be her last night alive as well. Balthier thought she was just a sad excuse for a woman, selling away her life for a new pair of eyes. Vaan sort of understood her though. Geneco had a way of manipulating a person to their will. That's how they eventually got to Reks after all.

"You can distract yourself with me if you want," Vaan suggested, biting his upper lip.

DAMN IT! HE NEEDED ZYDRATE!

Throwing himself down to Ashe's level of dignity, he crashed his lips onto the dealers, ignoring the scent of cheap cologne mixed with the rotten odor of corpses. Balthier didn't object to much. An addict sticking a tongue down his throat was a daily occurence. But with Vaan, there was something the boy that he found quite enjoyable.

"I'll take this as payment then," Balthier grinned, licking his lips and grabbing the blonde by his choker. Fran watched with hawk-like eyes as he pulled him into the building.

The owners didn't mind him using their backroom for surgeries and other business, just so long as there was no mess left on their floors and they remained out of public view. In exchange, he did have to give the store's owner a small cut of his work, but thanks to that, he had the second best business around, second only to a man known only as Graverobber. The mysterious dealer with the tattered trench coat and bright red fur collar had been the one to get Balthier addicted to zydrate and surgery to begin with. Now he looked nothing like he did before. No one could identify him with Ffamran, the boy he was before he carved his own face and business. He and Graverobber didn't get involved with each other's business much. Balthier had his own clientelle, though Graverobber had Amber Sweet, the horribly addicted and possible heir to the Geneco's multibillion dollar monopoly. But Balthier was happy with his not so famous clients as he threw Vaan onto the stone floor, taking his time removing the red sash from the boy's slim waist and the black tie that hang on his bare chest. Vaan was more eager, trying to undo the buttons to the man's white shirt, the vest already across the floor.

It didn't take too long for them both to have shed all their clothes, the stone feeling icy cold against their bare back. Vaan shivered when Balthier ran his tongue against healing scars across his chest. Maybe that was just from the cryogenic containers that lay close to them, holding organs ready for use. His body heated up in ecstacy as Balthier pushed into him.

Fran could tell from the screams that it was time for her to come in and do her job as Balthier's partner. Walking into the building, her stilleto's echoing loudly, she saw Vaan panting heavily on the floor, covered in sweat and cum. Balthier was already pulling up his pants, not bothering with his upper body, and digging in a black dufflebag. He pulled out a scalpel and a little glass vial of a glowing blue substance, Zydrate. Vaan looked at the vial with half lidded eyes. Balthier gave a nod to Fran who pulled out a small Zydrate gun from the holster on her thigh. He tossed her the vial and she snapped it in. The dark skinned woman held the boy by the arm, handing the gun over. The bejeweled man trailed the needle along the side of the boy's naked inner thigh. Vaan braced himself as he pulled the trigger, the liquid shooting into him and shocking him to the very core, like an electrical shock. It was the most amazing feeling, transcending pain and ecstacy even. What was even more amazing and breathtaking was the first insicion. That first cut into the flesh was always the greatest and most amazing, the cold steel against warm flesh of his cheek and hot blood. He moaned and screamed, not barely conscious. Every cut sent chills down his spine, and when he felt the flesh and muscle and fat being moved and spread apart, the feeling was orgasmic. His fingers dug into Fran who held him down as he couldn't help but writhe in pleasure. Every cut, every stitch, every touch was just to much, he couldn't breath. He eventually couldn't take it anymore and black claimed him.

He couldn't tell how long it had been since he had passed out, but Balthier and Fran had already vanished and daylight seeped in front under the door. He could feel the recently made cuts on his face, so it couldn't have been so long ago. He could tell by his reflection that his cheekbones were raised, his face was thinned out. It was all red and raw, and would be for a few days. He couldn't feel anything in his body, nothing, he was numb completely. God he loved that feeling, strange as it was. He stumbled out of the building, falling into the wall several times, unable to gain full control of his limbs back. The sunlight hit and burned his eyes. He rarely ever stayd out til morning. In the morning, there wasn't any dangers or funs. No battles between dealers or orgies or GeneCops patrolling iching to put a bullet in your head for illegal buying and selling. Sheilding his eyes, Vaan ran off into the alleyways, newspapers telling of last nights ordeal scattering into the wind. He wanted to get back to his little dumpster, where Penelo would yell at him for being gone for so long. Unfortunately, when Vaan lifted open the lid to his little home, he felt his stomach sink at the sight.

Penelo lay motionless with blood trailing down her face from the bullet hole between her eyes. Apparently she hadn't been careful enough and had been caught by a GeneCop. They did have orders to shoot violators of the law on sight. Well, they did that night before Geneco's founder Rotti Largo passed away, leaving his daughter to run and change the company. Mainly it was the young girl's bad luck.

"Poor Pen," Vaan sighed, taking a small purse full of money from between her breasts, slipping it into his own pocket. He jumped in beside her and closed the lid, reading to sleep and heal until night fell again. He rested his head on her icy shoulder. At least he could make some money from selling her corpse.

A/N: Ah this came out interesting to say the least. If that's a good or bad thing, I'm not too sure. Its an extreme of one of them. Yeah, this is totally ooc, but I'm content I guess. Except for the ending. The ending sucks. Well thank you for reading this and I hope you will please review! If you review I will be eternally happy for life! And if you like either FFXII or Repo, I have fics for both, come check em out!

Thanks again!