SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1Disclaimer: I own what comes from my head, anything that isn't my heads creation is obviously not mine.
Power of sorrow
The thoughts that run through my head,
Are scarred and scattered all over the place
The wounds you leave made me see red
The blades of sorrow have cut the ace of spades.
Though spades are black, the color is of the heart.
The art of anguish controls the mind.
Blinded by its own design
- Trinity
~~*Design of love*~~~
Quistis' point of view-
I woke up with stinging eyes, it hurt and it stung. I wasn't sure which or what I was talking about. If it was the fact that I was happy for once and then it was taken away, or more like if I was shut out from my revere. Either way the feeling was something strange, it could have been the train and that I was uncomfortably scrunched up on the floor, but it was not a good enough answer.
"The bloody hell was I thinking?" the muffled sound rang solo out into the cabins' air.
Forever it seemed that I let my eyes avoid the world, the site of the cabin. I could have been there rolled into a little ball for hours, I wouldn't have known or have cared to look for a clock. I felt dead, and unsettled. I hated this, shuddering from the foreignness that had taken over my senses I let myself fall back into dreams, the things of the past. Maybe I would dream of a memory, something I could look forward to, I wouldn't mind sleep if it were about those kinds of things.
Wish I would dream and not have the sad black emptiness that I fall into, then maybe instead of waking up to a blank mind I and wake up and feel the joy of wonderful dreams. I can't even get that, instead I wake up and go through the day and go home to rest and wake up in the morning wondering if that really was a whole nights sleep or two minutes. Instead, I get to fall asleep and wake up with nothing but the day ahead to think about, the word to describe it is . . . . . empty. Yes, empty.
Normal point of view. -----
Inside the recesses of her mind was Ifrit, among others, and for reasons unknown to him he was feeling this discomfort from her pain. With a roar, he decided that he was going to end this discomfort, as he shifted in the psyche of Quistis Trepe he learned of the events. Sharing her view of what happened, the memory replayed itself for him. The feelings transfer to him and her thoughts.
Ifrit had a newfound understanding of his master; their compatibility had even gone up. Ifrit decided that he would rid her of the memory, end the knowledge of this suffering by making this event blurry and unfocused to her. As she remembered what happened the night before she found that she was having difficulty, there she was at the bar getting a drink as the gang of drunks watched her from a table. She saw herself fight it off when they jumped her. Saw the fight that the bartender caused for her, the room that she took into and the figure that woke her up. Frowning unconsciously because she couldn't identify the man, a complete bared black shadow of whoever the bartender was.
The events replayed in her mind, the wine, the fire, and the storm; the things she did during the storm, it puzzled her that she couldn't seem to place the character she did this with. Feeling shame for her mistakes and riddance of non-alcoholic beverages only, she shook herself from the dream and its meaning.
Waking up to find herself on the floor of a train cabin was a mild surprise compared to everything else that resurfaced to her. The thoughts traveled slowly to her brain, then a few seconds later, analyzing it briefly and dropping it figuring that it could wait.
What about the mission, she thought to herself. Since the bar incident she had completely forgotten that she was there for a reason. Sitting up in alarm, she slapped her forehead; the mission was a failure! She thought frantically. I never fail missions, she noted. With groaning chuckles she lifted herself off the floor, she was screwed and in more ways than one for once.
Thoughts darted through her head, she had almost forgotten what the mission was, she didn't know what happened to the criminal, she was lost on what she was going to do, and she supposed she could lie but she never did that on a mission. Then she decided that she was going to tell headmaster cid and commander squall the truth, that the criminal escaped during the storm into an unknown forest and she was bunkered in the cavern during the storm. Then when it was over it had been too late and too wet to follow any kind of track that the suspect would have made the night before. So the truth was stretched, she mused.
I had slept with a stranger! I had slept with a bartender! I had drank a lot with the bartender. . .I can't remember him. . .I don't know any details. . . where was my rational side of the brain she sighed to herself as she admitted her wrongs during the mission. Rubbing her eyes she sat down on the couch in the small cabin, its dull beige color on the walls reminded her of gardens' halls. The couch was a deep red and the room had a little door that led to a very convenient but small washroom, she fell onto the couch and covered her eyes with her arm.
"What is wrong with me?" she thought aloud.
For some reason she didn't feel right. Her mind was exhausted from something and her body felt so worn out and tired as though she could just lie still; looking at the ceiling as her mind worked out problems without her knowledge or her sensing it. She knew that it had to do with her actions a night ago but she was still more tired then she figured she should have been, she had gotten to rest and then even in the train she slept. So why am I so tired, she asked herself.
Her long legs wrapped in baggy cargo pants that were a bit too big for her, her arms were bare but her torso was clothed in a dark tank top. Extended along the couch she fell asleep, the feelings of dissatisfaction, with what she remembered and doubt about why she was feeling bad about something unknown to her was still fresh in her mind as she drifted off.
Seifer woke up to a quiet morning his bare chest was warmed with the sun, still lying still he let his eyes open slowly as a smile started to play on his lips.
"Good morning" he mumbled into the object he was holding. Then a few seconds later, he opened his eyes.
"Quistis?" he asked the room.
Where is she? He asked himself as he got out of bed, his nerves were jumpy at the thoughts he was coming to as to where she had gone. Bare assed he jumped out of the bed as he thought of the possibility that she had snuck out and left him there.
"The bathroom "he muttered as he ran to it, swinging the door open he let his head rest on the door his hand still on the knob. She wouldn't just leave, Quistis isn't like that, he convinced himself as he walked back into the room cautiously, expectantly.
"The bar" he cried in triumphant, knowing that's probably where she was. Grabbing some clothes, he ran down the stairs and into the bar.
The waiter was cleaning some tables and all the chairs where moved to one side of the bar, the mop and bucket in one side and the lights weren't on; the place's light supplied by the suns' rays. A dim pale color that suited the place when it was empty, the scene made Seifer feel as empty as it.
After he was back in his room, he shut the door softly and leaned against it, frown was deep and eyes shut tight. There in the corner of the room was Hyperion, glittering and sparkling for him to take it, he was so sick and tired of this shit. All day long, he goes and serves drunks; they hit on innocent people.
He didn't do anything important he didn't do anything he wanted to; he just did what he had to. Then he goes and does the one thing he wanted, needed, felt was the only thing that was right to him, probably in years, and he gets screwed for it, Loses it. She just left; just like that, he sulked to himself. He walks to his chair and sits down, immediately he jumps back up and spins around staring down at the piece of paper. So she left a note, he thought briefly. Picking it up, he opened the folded paper and read the contents to himself. Afterwards he felt as though he could kill something.
He dropped the paper and strode across the room to where Hyperion was; there it was lying there waiting to tear through something, anything really. He picked it and felt its weight; it was light and nimble with his hands and form. Turning around slowly he let it swipe across the air, then he did his old practice routines with it, the bitch, the fucking bitch, how could she? After that night, he thought as he went faster he hit the table and realized it made him feel a little better.
It was a mistake. We both know it Seifer. It was the wine and the way the evening turned out. It had us acting differently.
"Bullshit!!!" he cried, charging at the nearest object.
Splinter and wood spit out in all directions his actions were faster and precise every minute, his mind was flying and his blade was chopping at the desk wildly. A mistake? I don't think so how could it have been, it was the best feeling I've had all my life, there hasn't been anything that I've experienced that even came close to what had happened here last night, he thought. It was like waking up or being born, he thought as he completely shredded the desk. Destroying his bed, the sheets ripped into millions of layers. The pillows ripped open and feathers decorated the negative space around the ceiling and walls falling and rising up into the air again. Seifer would stick his gunblade into the mattress until it wasn't anything but fabrics.
It was wrong of me to have acted the way I did, it didn't mean anything though so don't worry about it, I don't feel anything but shame, I know you don't care or anything but I'm just saying.
"I don't care! You Quistis don't care! You don't care! You don't care, I don't care? You don't care!" he screamed at the shelves as he destroyed all the things on it, screaming out curses and reciting parts of the letter to the deader furniture.
As he pulled the trigger on some of his things he realized that there was no more furniture to kill, the room was like the post of a battlefield. The wood sprayed across the floor mixed with fabrics, feathers, and bits and pieces of bed sheets. Objects shattered onto the floor, all of his possessions smashed on the floor. The walls had holes the size of people and you could see the water pipes and electrical wires from any angle of the room on any one wall.
I trust you'll forget this ever happened as I'm doing the same, the fact that you don't love me is a good enough reason to forget the events of last night. We will just think of it as a drunken mistake. It is better this way, for everyone. I am sorry because of my mistake Seifer, not because of the night itself, please understand. Let's go back to our own worlds and leave this incident in the past. Good-bye Seifer, good luck in all your affairs,
Quistis Trepe.
Seifer looked at what used to be his room and let his feet lose its force, falling down against the ground. He sat there in one far right side of the heap of garbage with gunblade in hand and trash next to the other. It would be so easy, to just go and kill everything there was to kill, to just let go of everything, and be free, he thought absent-mindedly as he looked at his reflection through his gunblade.
Quistis turned to the left a little in a dream state, her form was rigid and still but if one were to look more closely, they would see she was relaxed. The couch was just a very uncomfortable place.
The streets were crowded and the people were speed walking, every one of them. Quistis was wandering about the streets in search of something, the stores neon signs flickered and the yellow streetlights gave the place a quiet atmosphere despite the loud indescribable sounds of the bustling people.
The cars zoomed by and skidded to a stop at the intersections, the buses stopped at the bus stops, to Quistis this seemed like a normal city. As she walked the streets the time was slipping, she saw the fat newsstand owner close the booth and go home. Then as she kept walking, she stopped and watched a tall bulky fellow with blonde hair close his gym. As she was turning a corner she ran into a little boy with brown hair and a long shirt and shorts the color of vanilla, his eyes were wide and green.
"Lady! I have to leave you!" he said. Quistis backed away and blinked back surprise.
"Excuse me, are you all right?" she asked albeit hesitantly.
"No!" he yelled, as he backed away and gripped his little chest where his heart was, he shut his eyes and pleaded.
"Please, just stop pretending." he said quietly before he sprinted away. Quistis stood from her crouching position and along the wide street road, that was surprisingly deserted, was a hospital. The building was white with an emergency sign at the left side, and another sign she couldn't read on the right. Suddenly, a dog that was twice her size came up to her and knocked her down!
"Ahaaaaahhhhhhh!!!!" screaming she woke up, fell off the couch, the train was running slowly, and it had turned night again, she had slept the whole day.
Seifer was standing proud above his target, a part of him was afraid and the other was begging for release. He smiled wickedly as he prepared to get what he had long ago deserved. Maybe Quistis was right. Maybe I don't care, and maybe I don't love her . . . maybe I'm lying to myself, he thought quietly as he looked down upon the face of the scarred man below him.
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well what do you think will happen next huh? Dum dum dum I"m not saying a thing. Well, this was the first chapter, before anything I would like to say that this story can't make sense, ultimately if you don't read the first, ' one evenings love' and you'll see why in later chapters. Anyway review and let me know. Really people just give me some support and I might get the chapters in a bit faster than slower. R & R and thanks for readin'. ^