Bloody ARMs

By: Maeleene

Chapter One: Private Myths

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A/N: Yeah, we're back at it again. I was sorting through a box while unpacking, and I found chapters eight through fourteen of this story printed out. The original version, filled with ridiculous typos, misspellings, embarrassing Author Notes, and in much need of some TLC. The reason I ceased my Revision and Editing process the last time was due to the mysterious loss of chapters sixteen through eighteen. I mourn them still (though I managed to recover about half of chapter seventeen). I've decided not to let that stop me this time. We all must carry on, and this story demands to be finished properly. (Don't expect any more long Author Notes, either. They hinder the flow of mah story. Subsequent A/Ns will also be placed at the end of each chapter rather than the beginning.)

At the end of each chapter, I will post the changes made, as I remember them. Expect many. I've improved as a writer, and I don't want to reread this again and cringe. :)

Disclaimer: Wild ARMs 3 belongs to its respective owners ( and Sony, I believe). The following story is made for the sole purpose of entertainment, not for profit, and is the creation of a bored and lowly fan.

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"Myths are public dreams; dreams are private myths." Joseph Campbell

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Virginia Maxwell stared wearily at her surroundings. Aside from a few shattered cases of glass on pedestals where some displays once stood, broken windows and floors worn away by treatment were all that was to there to be seen.

Another false lead, she thought as her shoulders drooped. That's all we seem to be getting these days—false leads.

"Nothin' here," a man called from behind her.

"Yeah, so I've noticed," she told Gallows. "I'm beginning to expect conspiracy," she added wryly. Though, truth be told, it probably wasn't as farfetched as it sounded. So it was when one was wanted under false pretenses. Murder, indeed.

"Dammit!" an annoyed voice from behind her shouted, followed by the something. What astounded her the most was not the exclamation, but that Jet Enduro found anything left in this dump to be shattered.

She turned to look at Jet with one hand her hip, the other waging a disapproving finger. "Now, now! There's no reason to put this ruin in even worse a shape than it's already in!" The only clue she had to know Jet was listening was a piercing glare.

"I suggest we go and rest. It seems this chain of false leads has dimmed all of our spirits," Clive Winslet said. The other three turned and watched as he pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose to keep them from falling off completely. Taking his weight off of the Rifle he had been leaning on, he turned and began to walk away.

"I think he's right," Virginia said with a shrug. Clive being right was nothing new. She smoothed the wrinkles out of her dress, flipped her braid over her shoulders, and quickly followed the man out with Jet and Gallows tagging after her.

---

It had to be the loudest squeal Jet had ever heard. Especially when he noticed it came from a boy.

"Brother!"

Gallows smiled, a spark of happiness lighting his eyes. He turned quickly, the feathers and beads on his jacket clicking together from the motion. "Shane?" he asked, but he already knew the answer, even before his younger brother threw his arms around his neck with a gleeful laugh.

"I'm so glad you've come home, Brother!" Shane tossed a smile at the other three drifters in greeting before continuing. "Have you found anything interesting?"

Tales of his travels always pleased his brother, who was rarely allowed to leave the village. They were a secluded people by nature, and even then, Shane was considered a gift to the tribe. His skills were surpassed by few, and Gallows was sure he'd take over as the leader before long. Before he could answer however, Jet grumbled, "Sure, if you like a pile of junk." He was rewarded with a playful smack to his shoulder from Virginia.

"The pessimistic punk over there basically said it all," Gallows explained with a shrug.

"What do you mean 'basically'? I did explain it all. All we found was some broken glass!"

Gallows considering arguing with the other boy, just for the humor it would provide, but instead he shook his head and started walking to what was once his home. The other followed at a leisurely pace.

"So! When do we eat?" A new sparkle entered his eyes, this time brought on by the thoughts of home-cooked meal. Food not from a pot.

"Oh, Brother!" Shane laughed. "Soon enough. But you all look exhausted. Why don't you take a nap in the meantime? Rest up? I could get the beds upstairs made up in no time." After four nods of agreement, Shane opened the door and ushered them all inside.

Gallows trekked up the stairs feeling drugged by the very thought of sleep. A bed was a luxury when you were on the run, and while it wasn't too hard to find an in, sleeping on dusty, hard-as-rock Wasteland floor was the safer choice. Yes, that bed was looking mighty comfortable. But before he could reach the blanketed haven, an old woman's voice came from behind him.

"So you've brought my incompetent grandson home, have you?"

Gallows paused mid-stride and turned to face his grandmother with a look of pure horror.

"You should have kept him away, spared us the problem with having to put up with his foolishness."

"Aw, come on, Granny!" Gallows felt exhausted, but he still turned with an over-exaggerated harrumph and crossed his arms. "Can't you credit me with something for once on your life? You're not gonna be around much longer; why don't you just give it a try?!" He pasted a charming smile on and waggled his eyebrows. The effect it had was really less than he was hoping for.

The old woman raised an eyebrow, clearly not amused."But I did credit you with something!" Halle, Gallows' and Shane's grandmother, told him. The statement was met with a look of confusion."I credited you with being a complete and total idiot!" she elaborated as she turned to reach for a pot to boil water in, ignoring her grandson's dropped jaw and look of astonishment.

Virginia's green eyes danced with amusement. "You two are like some odd comedy act whenever we come here! It's always good to lighten the mood." Despite herself, she opened her mouth in a yawn.

"You look tired. Why don't you go get some sleep, Dearie," Halle offered. She looked toward Gallows, who was now leaning lazily against the wall. "Why couldn't I have had a grandchild like her? She's a sweetheart. I got a wise, competent grandson, whom I love dearly, and a blundering idiot." And with that, she left to gather some fresh vegetables for a stew.

"I love you, too, Granny," an amused Gallows said to the air before plopping down onto one of the beds and closing his eyes. In a few moments, the faint sound of snoring came from his half-open mouth.

Clive shook his head made his way to his own bed, taking his glasses off and running his fingers through his green hair. "It really doesn't take much to get him to sleep, does it?"

"Not really," Shane agreed with a smile. "But he's always been like that. Besides, he know Grandmother only jests. It's her way of saying she's missed him."

"Indeed. I think he misses it while he's away." As he laid down, Clive added in a slightly raised voice, "I suppose that's why he's always picking fights with Jet. It's his way of showing affection."

"You're all idiots," Jet mumbled with a scowl. He heard Virginia come up behind him and, expecting to be hit, raised his shoulders in an attempt to ward off the blow. Instead of feeling the throbbing pain of a slap to the face, however, he noted with dismay she only rustled his white hair playfully.

"Oh, you know you like us!" she teased.

"No, actually, I don't," he huffed back.

For a moment, he thought a look of hurt flashed through her eyes, but then she blinked and any indication of it was gone. When she spoke, her voice was surprisingly neutral. "Why do you stay with us, then?" she asked.

"I…" he began, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. After a few moments of searching for an answer, Jet found he had none. Why do I stay? he asked himself. He stood for a few moments more, violet eyes glazed over in contemplation. "I..." was all he could manage.

The smile returned to Virginia's face. "I was right!" she giggled. "You stay because you like us." Before he got protest, she placed a gloved hand over his mouth. "And don't you try to argue with me, Jet Enduro! It won't do you any good."

Jet's mouth closed, but the scowl remained on his face.

With another yawn, the girl trudged up the stairs. Even if their exploration had ended unsuccessfully, the wear of travel had taken its toll on her. "I'm going to take a nap now, and I suggest you do the same," she said before disappearing around the corner and collapsing into a bed.

Jet stood a moment later, then followed.

---

When he awoke, Jet found himself in a field of flowers. Confusion clung to him as he squinted at his surroundings. It was intolerably bright, the sunshine beating down on him and heating the breeze that brushed past. In the Wasteland, there were few flowers, and certainly no fields of them, save for one tended by that odd little girl they'd met. But he couldn't figure out how he'd managed to sleepwalk that far, especially over a crevice that wide.

As his eyes adjusted, he could just barely make out the silhouette of a lone girl. For a moment, he thought it was that creepy flower child, but the figure was much too tall to be that young girl. He took a few steps forward and then a few more, and finally he could identify the girl as none other than Virginia Maxwell. So they had managed to sleepwalk together? Were Gallows and Clive there as well? He cast another quick glance around, but no. It was only them and a bunch of silly flowers.

She was standing with her head down and her eyes shut, a single, small white bloom cradled in her hands. Her chestnut hair fell freely down her back, contrary to the normal braided style she wore it in. The waves of brown blew past her face as a breeze flitted by. Jet stared, lavender eyes wide. It was all terribly surreal, and a little bit spooky. He wanted to look away, or to run, but he found himself glued to the spot. Virginia's green eyes opened, glittering with an odd emotion.

"Jet," she cooed. Her voice was hardly more than a whisper but, despite their distance, he could hear her quite clearly. "Come here." She extended her free hand and beckoned to him.

Eagerly, he began to sprinted forward, as if propelled by divine force. He wanted to embrace her, he wanted to run from her; he wanted to look in her eyes and drown in them.

Why am I feeling like this? He thought he knew the answer, but just as he couldn't figure out why he stayed, he could not place his finger on the reason for his mixed emotions.

So instead, he just ran. But soon, he noticed something. He had been running for quite a while, yet no matter how far he traveled, he couldn't reach her. She wasn't moving, wasn't somehow dashing backwards, but she was in no way coming closer. There was always the same distance between them. It seemed she was almost close enough to touch, but he was so far away, unable to close the distance that spread out before them. Still, her welcoming smile stayed on her lips, warming and comforting. Why wouldn't she come and meet him? Why was she just standing there? Frustration bloomed in him.

Then Jet noticed in horror as the field slowly disappeared, one bright petal at a time, leaving blackness around them. Virginia seemed oblivious to the sudden change, smiling warmly, waiting for him to grab her hand. He sped up, anxious to get to her, wary of something he did not understand, didn't see, and couldn't fight.

"Virginia!" he called out. Her form was slowly dissipating, being engulfed by the thickening blackness.

"Come on, Jet!" she encouraged, unaware of what was happening. When nothing was left except for her fading laughter of joy, Jet collapsed, holding his head in his hands, panicked.

"Virginia!" he called out again before he the darkness snapped up and consumed him as well.

---

Virginia looked at her mother's hand as it clasped her own. Where is mommy taking me? she wondered. Her emerald eyes twinkled in curiosity as Ekatrina led her toward the town gate.

"I have a surprise for you, sweetheart."

The young girl looked up into her mother's face, eyes wide with anticipation. "What, Mama?"

"Why don't you go to the gate and find out?" Ekatrina let go of her daughter's hand and urged her forward.

Virginia ran ahead with a smile on her face, sure she knew what her surprise would be. When she reached the entrance of Boot Hill, she saw none other than her farther, Werner Maxwell, standing tall against the late morning sun.

"Daddy!" she cried in utter glee. She wrapped her little arms around his legs and giggled.

"Virginia!" Werner examined his daughter. "My, how you've grown. How old are you now? Ten years old?" He watched as Virginia nodded and smiled up at him. "I'm going to have to start chasing boys away soon, aren't I?"

Virginia made a quick face, then bounced up and down, the comment quickly forgotten."I've missed you so much!"

"I've missed you, too, Sweetheart! And I've brought someone for you to meet, the son of a good friend of mine." Virginia looked at him expectantly, head tilted in questioning. "Would you like to meet him?"

Without waiting for his daughter's reply, Werner stepped aside and went to meet his wife, revealing a young, silver-haired boy, not too much older than Virginia. His eyes were just like the soft lavender that grew up on the hill, and he was gazing shyly at the ground, a slight, pink blush tainting his cheeks. Finally, the boy looked up and smiled hesitantly at the younger girl.

"H-hi," he mumbled.

Virginia smiled widely. "Hi!" she greeted. She didn't appear shy at all. She approached him excitedly, taking his hand in her own and pulling him along the dusty roads of the town. "I'm Virginia. Who're you? Where are you from? Do you like my Daddy? Do you like to paint? Oh! How about tag?" She asked, slowing only when they neared her house.

The questions seem to swamp and confound him, so he settled on answering her first question."U-um. I'm Jet. Jet Enduro," he managed to stutter.

"Well, Jet, it's nice to meet you! We'll be best friends! I just know it!" Virginia exclaimed. A frown came to her face, as if in afterthought. "Unless, of course, you don't wanna be. . . ."

"N-no! I mean yes, I would like to be your friend." Jet seemed to be flustered.

"My best friend?" she prompted.

"Y-yes, your best friend." He smiled and was rewarded with a quick hug from Virginia.

"Yay! You'll have a great time here, I just know it!" she cheered and led him to the house to meet up with her father.

---

Virginia awoke to someone screaming at the top of his lungs. She looked about her, fighting past the fogginess of sleep, while attempting to smooth the tangles in her hair. What in the-- She noticed Clive, sitting up in his bed, face an unhealthy shade of white.

"What the hell!" Gallows cried as he sprung out of bed and proceeded shake Clive violently. "Why did you have to wake me up?! I was having the best dream of my life!" His eyes glazed over as if he was daydreaming, but he quickly shook it away.

"What scared you so much, anyway?" Virginia asked. Her hair was no longer in a braid, and she was running her fingers through it to comb out the knots. When no answer came from her comrade, she dropped her hands into her lap and prompted him again. "Well?"

He cleared his throat, a flush staining his cheeks and eyes downcast. "I was a blond," he confided at last, his voice hoarse and filled with chagrin. "A girly blond."

Virginia smiled, trying hard to hold back the fit of laughter she knew would soon strike. Slowly, she felt it bubble up until in overflowed and spilled out. "A girly blond?" It was more of a statement, but Clive nodded regardless, obviously horrified.

"It wasn't the least bit humorous to me!" Clive yelled. "You know what they say about blond-haired people!" This only made Virginia and Gallows laugh harder. "Whatever, laugh all you want." He rested his chin on his hand and sighed in defeat. "It doesn't matter to me. Besides, I'm sure I was quite an attractive blond."

After a few moments, Virginia's fit of laughter subsided, and she wiped the traces of tears from her eyes. "I'm sorry, Clive," she said as she gasped for breath. "I didn't mean to laugh at you."

"I did," Gallows wheezed, clutching his side.

"It's all right." the sniper replied, casting Gallows a look that could kill. The other man just snorted and continued to chuckle into his hand.

Halle poked her head around the corner. "Dinner's ready," she told them. "I suggest you get it now, while it's hot." Gallows immediately jumped up and ran down the stairs, eager to get some food into his system. Clive stood and straightened his shirt with dignity before trotting after.

I'm so hungry! Virginia thought as she stood to join the others, but paused. She turned her head and noticed Jet, sitting quietly on his bed, head cradled in his hands and eyes shut. What's the matter with Jet? she wondered worriedly. She walked over to him with caution, but did not keep her distance, kneeling down next to him and placing on hand on his knee.

"What's wrong?" she asked once he opened his eyes and looked at her through the cracks of his fingers.

"Nothing," he hissed. He seemed frightened of her at first, and then just plain cold.

"You don't have to get on my case for caring!" she spat. Standing, she turned her back to him, crossed her arms, and began to walk away. To her surprise, she felt a hand reach for her arm and hold her still. Shocked, she spun around with a frown.

"I-I'm sorry, Virginia. I just…" he paused and looked hesitantly into her eyes. They saw right through him and his defenses, rendered his shields worthless.

"What did you dream about?" she inquired softly. Her smile was comforting, gentle, and it made him feel sick.

"Why the hell should I tell you?!" He stood, pushing the girl away from him, blushing slightly.

"Okay, fine. Don't tell me."

Jet heard the sound of her footsteps retreating down the stairs and Gallows' loud voice welcoming her as she entered the main room. Suddenly, he didn't feel hungry at all, only sick. He laid back down on the bed and stared at the ceiling, peering through the dark as if the walls would know the answer to his questions and problems. Soon, he was asleep again.

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Status: Complete

Changes Made: Altered the chapter title, and added a quote. (You will see quotes now at the beginning of all chapters.) I think I added a full two pages onto this sucker in content alone. That's after deleting the ridiculousness of Gallows' and Clive's dreams. (Though, I kept the discussion of Clive's dream in, because I rather like it. :D ) That was too many dreams for one chapter anyway. Completely changed Jet's dream—essentially, only the idea of it remained. It was so cliché, it even made me a little queasy reading it. It should read better now. Added a ton of new descriptions and smoothed out some rough edges. Made it all sound less like an elementary student's writing. Hopefully, you will approve. Let me know in a review, please! Thank you!

Note: As I get further into this story, please let me know if details, names, places, or incidents are wrong. I haven't played this game in a very long time, so I'm bound to make more than a few mistakes. Correct the if you see them, pretty please!