Chapter 1 – When Hyne is up to mischief.

    Before I begin…

    This is my first fanfic, so there would definitely be loads of areas that need improvement. Please tell me when you come across any mistakes, sticky plot points, discrepancies, grammar mistakes. Don't be gentle, I can take criticism (criticism, not flames). Of course, it wouldn't hurt to tell me you like reading it as well. I'm a sucker for reviews. :)

    This is a story based on my favorite FF8 character and a self-created character. You can call it a self-insertion fic, a Mary-Sue, etc etc. I know this is like barging into compounds with the "Trespassers will be prosecuted" signs displayed prominently outside, but sometimes when the urge comes, it's hard not to write. I would sooner go insane if I left it hanging around my brain, so here I am.

    However, I will attempt to refrain it from becoming too annoying, attempt being the operative word.

    So while I prepare to take the plunge, please take note of the below disclaimer.

    Disclaimer: FFVII and Squall Leonhart, Seifer Almasy, Quistis Trepe, Zell Dintch, Irvine Kinneas, Selphie Tilmitt, Rinoa Heartily et cetera characters belong to Squaresoft Inc., and not me. They are mentioned in the fic for entertainment purposes only, and not for financial and other tangible gains.

                                       *     *     *     *     *     *      *     *     *     *

                                                     If time could stand still…

                                                    I would want it to freeze

                                                At the moment I'd met you...   

                                       *     *     *     *     *     *      *     *     *     *

   Ramius Wolfgang treaded on the soft, bouncy steps. Steps of a translucent, yet by no means weak material that were part of a long flight that led up to where the clouds had stopped floating, and far beyond.

    Grunting almost inaudibly as his feet sank a little with each step, he looked up at the still relatively far distance he had to cover, and let out a little sigh.

    There was nothing he dreaded more than being summoned by the Almighty Highness for a task, especially if it was this time of the year… when she had lesser matters on her hands and would thus be prone to more mischief than usual.

    He knew quite well why she had summoned him; there was only one plausible reason, really.

    He finally reached the top of the stairs, and gazed in wonderment at the majestic structure in front of him. No matter the number of times he had seen the Gates of Hyne, it would take his breath away every time he set his eyes upon it.

    You may now enter, Ramius, my good servant.

    The Gates opened silently as if on cue, allowing him entry into the vast land where the "Ruler of All" resided.

    Where all decisions of their world, major or minor, were made and carried out.

    "Come here, Ramius."

    As the mist cleared, he could see the authoritative, yet ethereal figure of the Ruler beckoning him.

     "Zion, Roma, you may retreat." She dismissed her left and right-hand men, who nodded and drifted away.

    Ramius bowed respectfully before her, and spoke in a similar tone.

     "Your Almighty Highness, you asked for me?"

     "Yes. Tell them, that I have a deal to strike with them."

     "A deal, your Highness?"

     "Yes, a deal. Zion shall discuss the details with you. Remember, Ramius. Failure is not an option. Hahahhahaha!" She let off a peal of raucous laughter that was unbefitting of her status, and graceful image.

     "Yes, your Highness."

                                       *     *     *     *     *     *      *     *     *     *

    He heard three soft knocks on his solid office door.

     "Come in." He barked, a little annoyed by the disruption of his work.

    The door opened soundlessly, and his personal assistant, Sally, stepped into his office, closing the door again behind her.

     "Commander Leonhart, an unidentified individual wishes to see you. He did not make an appointment beforehand."

     "Turn him away." Squall said irritably, and looked down at his work, signaling to his assistant that the conversation had ended.

     "Now, my dear Commander, a little talk wouldn't hurt anyone, would it?"

    A tall, thin figure appeared behind Sally, and walked up to stand before Squall's desk.

    Squall and Sally stared in surprise at the uninvited "visitor", then at the door. Neither of them had heard or seen it open, which meant…

    He had somehow materialized into the room out of thin air!

     "As you can see, I am no ordinary mortal. I am above you. I only asked to see you because I am a polite one by nature…"

     "Whatever. Unauthorized Trespassers will be prosecuted!"

    Squall reached for his Lionheart, catching the cold glint of the blade in his eyes.

     "Do you honestly think that you can hurt me with that?" The other one smirked, noticing from the corner of his eye that Sally had sneaked out of the office, presumably to call for help.

     "You wanna try?" Squall gritted his teeth, provoked by the insolent tone of the man's voice.   

     "Hold on, young man. I came here to talk, not fight." The man held out his hands seemingly in surrender, and lightly snapped his fingers.

    Squall found his throat constricted, and no sound would come out of it even when he tried to shout.

     "Now listen, and listen good." The man said sternly. "Hyne has decided to strike a deal with you.

      You are to accept another mortal girl from Earth into your Garden, give her food, lodging, an academic place, a stab at SeeDship, you know the drill." He paused, looking in amusement at Squall's vigorously shaking head and horrified stare.

     "HOWEVER. You will not be obliged to like her, or accept her into your clichés, or give her preferential treatment as you had to with the previous ones.

       And this time, she does not have excessive powers compared to the next person. She will attain her skills through hard work alone.

       In exchange for her acceptance here, Hyne shall grant you one billion gil, with ten percent as deposit if you should accept the offer."

    Squall gawked at him.

    One billion gil?!!

    His incredulity was justified, for it was much, much more than the one million gil they usually received for such cases.

     "Too good to pass up, isn't it?" With a snap of his fingers, the man had let go of his hold over Squall's vocal chords.

     "Let me consider." Squall said, still unconvinced that he wanted to subject himself and Balamb Garden to the potential hazards that might result from accepting another Earthling in their midst.

     "There's no time. If you don't agree right here, right now, I'll have to ask the other Gardens."

    Squall gave a little jolt at his words, for the idea of one billion gil falling into other's hands was just too much for him.

     "Deal!" He declared, determined to find some way to counter said "potential hazards".

     "Very good, Mr. Leonhart! Now if you'll just sign here, here, here and here……"

                                       *     *     *     *     *     *      *     *     *     *

     ["I love you." Quistis said. "I love you at first sight."

     "Me too, sweetie-pie!" Seifer clasped her hand, staring endearingly at her face. "I only insulted you cos I loved you."—]

    She paused, and re-read her work.

    That will never work. The readers won't buy it… heck even I don't buy it!

    No doubt over that.

     "What? Who's there?" Her head spun around upon hearing the foreign voice whispered into her ear, but of course there was no one there, for she did not recall letting anyone into her room when she closed the door. Shaking her head, she resumed her typing on her keyboard.

     [Quistis told Seifer,

      "If I could turn back time, I'd love you more."

     "If I could turn back time, I'd bend down on my knee and proclaim you my Queen!"]

     "Argh!! Too clichéd! And still too OOC!!!" She grabbed her hair in exasperation as the notoriously-feared "Writer's Block" attacked her mind for the umpteenth time.

    What you need, is a full, realistic grasp on what they're really like.

    What would you say if you had a chance to experience what it feels like to be in the FF8 world?

    What would you say if you could talk face to face with them?

    And what would you say if you were sent into a world where the subject of your fantasies is REAL, and not some fictional character?

    I am here to offer you that.

     "Who the hell are you? Show yourself now!" She growled at the air in general, for she did not know where this person was.

     "Tsk Tsk! Such words to come out of a young lady's mouth. How unbecoming!"

     "You show yourself now, or I'll—"

     "Or you'll what? You can't even see me… what can you possibly do to me?"

    On hearing his taunts, her temper rose, and she threw a mug violently at the direction of the voice.

    "Thunk!" The mug had managed to hit him resoundingly on the head.

    Fuming, but secretly appreciative of her throwing skill, he materialized in his visual form.

     "Not bad. I haven't been physically hit by a mortal for one hundred years."

     "Enough! Who the hell are you?" She did not appear surprised by his sudden appearance in her room.

    I must be dreaming. I probably fell asleep at the keyboard.

     "I am your muse." He said, smiling simply.

     "Uh-huh. You expect me to believe that."

     "Yes, I do."

     "You're bluffing. My Muse, if I had any, should be some beautiful, sweet and gentle woman with a golden touch and the face of an Angel. Not some… slob like you!"

    Indeed, he looked as if he had been a derelict plucked out from the streets at night, with his fuzz-covered chin, bloodshot eyes and unkempt hair.

     "What makes you think in that way?" He asked in great amusement.

     "Because I only write romance stories." She eyed him in distaste. "And for the life of me, I don't see how you can be linked to the word 'romance'!"

    The self-proclaimed muse gave a cold snort and a mocking laugh.

     "The muse's appearance is molded by the state of his or her charge's thoughts. What you see here, is a mirror image of your mind state." He walked past her to where her mirror was positioned, and examined his reflection in it.

      "That is to say… if you possess an inner beauty that rivals that of the faeries, then you will have a muse that is, as you put it, 'a sweet, gentle woman with a golden touch and the face of an Angel'. On the other hand, you my dear girl, are as ugly internally as you are externally, hence this." He gestured at himself.

     "You're too much! Insulting someone whom you've met for the first time! Whatever it is you're offering, I won't have any of it!"

     "You're sure?"

     "Hundred Percent!"

     "A chance to see and touch your favorite character, and you decline?" He had deliberately emphasized on the touch part, obviously trying to seduce her into an agreement.

     "How do I even know you're not taking me along for a ride?" She glanced suspiciously at him.

     "You don't. But if you reject, you will always be wondering about the what if."

     "The what if?"

     "What if I accepted his offer?

      What if he was for real?

      What if he offered it to someone else?

       There're too many to list."

    This is only a dream anyway. No actual harm done, even if he does turn out to be a cheat!

     "Alright… what do I have to do?"

     "Attagirl. I like your decisiveness."

    He produced a parchment scroll from his sleeve.

     "Just sign here, here, here and here. Oh, no need to look for fine print. It isn't important."

    She signed the scroll without examining it carefully, still under the illusion that she was dreaming.

     "Hahahahaha!" The muse's laugh sent shivers down her spine.

     "NOW you have to do everything I say! You are our SLAVE until the contract expires!"

     "SLAVE? What the hell are you talking about?" She stared at him, half in fear and half in annoyance, while attempting to identify the strange sense of doom that was rising up in her chest.

     "You should always read the fine print before signing anything! Tsk Tsk!" He shook a finger at her, while his features rearranged themselves in a loathsome gloat.

     "Yeah, right. All I have to do is wake up, and you can't do anything to me!" She snorted in contempt.

     "Let's see you 'Wake up' then." He crossed his arms with a smirk, obviously waiting to watch a show.

    She closed her eyes, then reopened them.

    Wakeupwakeupnow!

    He was still there, his smirk a little wider now.

    She pinched herself, hard.

     "Oww!" She rubbed at the spot where a blue-black bruise had started to form.

    If it hurts… then I'm not dreaming. If I'm not dreaming…

    Her eyes traveled to the muse.

    He's for real!

    And everything went black for her.

                                       *     *     *     *     *     *      *     *     *     *

   Hahahha how was that? Not too bad, I hope! Well, whatever you think of it, please write it down by clicking on that little button down there. Won't take you too much time, and it sure would make my day! What do you say?

    Ah… by the way… the first person who can guess who this girl's favorite charrie is in FF8 gets to name her. So make sure when you make the guess, you name the main charrie as well.

    Ramius: As if that's a big prize or something…. *rolls eyes*.

    You want a hint? It's not Squall hahahahaha.

    But you have to be fast. If I post before you guess correctly, offer's off. Okay, I'll stop bothering you now and let your eyes have a rest!