Title: Moments ( 1/10 )
Chapter 01: Puppet
Written by Ruine
Disclaimer: Star Ocean - Till the End of Time © Square-Enix & Tri-Ace
Character(s): Luther Lansfield, Fayt Leingod, Albel Nox
Pairing(s): None
Warning(s): Unbeta'ed
Status: Edited & Finished
Rating: General/Humor, GP
Summary: A little instance in what is just another day for a trio of adventurers.
Word Count: 547
[ 1 ]
Luther Lansfield stared, a frown creeping onto his chiseled features as the moments trickled by. He leaned over, pinched his chin and walked around in a half-circle; hoping that this might help to shed some light on this latest puzzle. He hummed and muttered under his breath at the possibilities. Finally, at a loss, he spun about to confront his grinning companion. "What is it?"
Fayt Leingod shook his head, lips twitching in amusement. "It's a puppet." The youth explained simply. Luther peered at the caricature craved from wood, loosely connected by metal rings at the joints, hung on one of the many stalls in Peterny's town square. Regarding the oddity, he realized that it did indeed very slightly resemble a man. He crossed his arms over his chest, unimpressed and, secretly, miffed he hadn't figured it out. "It looks silly. It seems to be more a collection of sticks poorly tied together. It could fly apart in any moment."
"Oh?"
The blond's frown vanished; swept away by a small smirk. "Quite." he turned away without a backward glance, leaving the disappointed and insulted merchant in his wake. "I prefer my puppets to be more lifelike."
Fayt's emerald eyes narrowed. He didn't miss the double meaning lurking underneath the casual remark. Let it never be said that Fayt Leingod was one to run from a challenge. Slyly, he pointed out, "Those are really expensive and hard to come by; you won't find any of them here. Not to mention, you never know . . . when the puppet may be the one controlling the puppeteer."
Luther shrugged carelessly. "Who is to say which is the master and which is the slave? If the roles are so easily reversed then the puppeteer can easily be giving the puppet the illusion of free will."
"Perhaps." Fayt conceded. "For all you know, there isn't a difference at all. The master may have made the puppet but isn't the idea of the puppet the reason that willed the master to make it in the first place? Who can say which side rules in the end?"
"Quite."
From behind the pair, Albel Nox twitched violently and snapped. "Will the both of you cease this inane prattle? Must you debate and convolute even the simple task of shopping for supplies? Gods, now I know why I don't come along!"
With a huff, he stalked off, heading straight for the nearby gates. The townsfolk hastily melted out of Albel's unwavering path.
Luther and Fayt turned to watch the fuming swordmaster march out of the city with mild surprise.
"What was that about?" Fayt asked, puzzled.
"That time of the month?" Luther offered, straightening his robes absently. "Well, we best follow him. Even I don't know what he's bound to do when he's in this sort of a mood."
"Right, we also have to finish getting what we need before the stores close, too," Fayt agreed, quickly trailing after the swiftly dwindling figure. "I wonder why Albel does this every time we take him with us."
Luther smirked. "Perhaps, he just can't appreciate a good conversation when he hears one."
"True, but we'll get around to changing that pretty soon, I hope."
"Too bad we can't just move his strings."
"Life isn't that easy."
"Pity."
The End.