Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII or it's characters or Conor Oberst or Jim Morrison or Clandestine Industries...man that's depressing
Hooray a new chapter! This one's rather long, and even though I like it I still feel rather iffy. I hate bulding up the stupid plot, all I want to do is jump right to the juciest parts of the story!
Well, anyways, I was slightly disappointed that I didn't get mor reviews on my last update... After I updated like a million people did and my fic got bumped off the front page super fast... Oh well, just promise to review this one!
Also, I went to the Hellogoodbye, Acceptance, Panic! At the Disco, and The Academy Is... concert at the Fillmore in San Francisco and let me say... The Academy Is.. and Hellogoodbye rocked the FREAKIN HOUSE!
...anyways... Read on!
P.S. I edited this a bit, feel free to point out anymore mistakes!
We left before the dust had time to settle.
Now all the broken glass swept off the avenue,
and on the way home held your camera like a bible.
Just wishing so bad that it held some kind of truth.
And I stood nervous next to you in the dark room,
you dropped the paper in the water
and it all begins to bloom.
Yeah, they go wild.
Bright Eyes; An Old Soul Song (For The New World Order)
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"Tifa Lockheart! What, may I ask, do you THINK you are DOING?"
Tifa froze, half-step, and cringingly turned towards the shrill voice's owner. Ms. Wormwood's face looked like a ripe tomato, and a vein was twitching beneath her receding hairline.
Smiling innocently, Tifa gazed at her teacher with big puppy dog eyes, whilst twirling her foot in little circles, "But Ms. Wormwood," she said sweetly, " I thought it was time for me to go…"she tailed off hopefully.
" No, I'm not done with you yet! You still have a half hour to go! I can't believe you tried to ESCAPE as soon as I went to the bathroom!"
Still smiling awkwardly, a flurry of words tumbled out of the brunette's mouth, " But Ms. Wormwood! I, I, you know work and if I don't go then I'll be sent back to my parents and not be able to pay bills, and I really need this job, and you've kept me an hour longer than you said you would, and I'm gonna be late!"
The old woman smirked and in superior tone trilled, "Well you shouldn't have slept in class."
Tifa feigned a look of shame, and cried, " Oh Ms. Wormwood I'm so sorry! I was just so tired from studying for your class, and I feel so bad about it, you are such an amazing teacher!"
Ms. Wormwood just stared, and Tifa knew she should probably stop but her mouth had other ideas. " You know, I've always been jealous of how you are able to tease your hair so it is so high off your head! Also, I wish I had your fashion sense, those spandex make your thighs look so thin, I swear!"
Her false praises growing more and more outrageous by the second, Tifa clasped her hand over the mouth and thought, 'I am such an idiot, she is not going to buy any of this!"
Mrs. Wormwood's eyes looked to be on the edge of tears, and her face had turned an even deeper shade of red. Tifa backed up, fearing for her life, only to be engulfed in Mrs. Wormwood's perfume-soaked embrace.
Tifa turned her head towards the other woman, sheer horror etched across her features. The woman's large, rather bumpy nose was dripping on Tifa's shoulder, as she sniffed loudly.
" Oh you sweet, darling child!" Mrs. Wormwood cried, in between loud, somewhat disgusting sobs, " I never knew you felt so highly of meeeeee!"
She was overcome with emotion at the last word, and it came out as a shrill whine. Tifa patted the old woman's shoulder uneasily, while trying her best to extract herself from the vice-like grip of her teacher's arms saying, " Oh… yes….um… I've always felt that way?…ummm……can I go now?"
Mrs. Wormwood pushed herself back blowing her nose with a large handkerchief saying, " Of course sweetie, I know how much this job means to you."
Holding back the urge to laugh, Tifa thanked the hysterical woman profusely and hightailed her way out of there.
"What a weirdo!" She said, and picked up the speed since she was already fifteen minutes late for work.
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A beat up car clunked its way into parking space, narrowly missing the vehicles next to it. A girl with long dark hair stepped out of the vehicle and she sprinted inside the building, which had a sign hanging by one hinge over it that read, "The Highwind Bar." The building was very old-fashioned, since it was built before the Mako Revolution (think of it as the Industrial Revolution), and it was one of the few structures in Midgar that was composed of wood.
The bar was situated on a prime bit of land, yet no matter how often the owner of "The Highwind" was threatened and bribed by the "man", namely the president of Shinra Records, he refused to sell it. His family had kept the bar for generations, and when the owner had his mind set on something he never backed down.
Lately, Tifa had begun to fear for the man's safety since there had been too many 'accidents', that suspiciously stunk of Shinra's handiwork. Yet, she knew that the bar was relatively safe since it was one of the most popular hangouts in town, so Shinra wouldn't dare any open attempts at sabotage.
Tifa entered the bar and grinned sheepishly at her boss, thinking, 'Great, I'm gonna be yelled at again'
The man had short, bright yellow hair and squinting blue eyes. His face had a very Clint Eastwoodish look too it, and he was currently giving her that patented tight-lipped scowl. "So.." he took a long drag of his cigarette, baring his teeth, " Fucking late again, eh Lockheart?"
"About that Cid.." Tifa began, only to be cut off by Cid Highwind. Cid adjusted the goggles on his forehead and ran his thumbs along the edge of his worn, denim jacket growling, " Just don't do it again. Now, get behind the fucking bar and whip up some fucking tea for me!"
Tifa felt a warm burst of affection for the middle-aged man, and kissed him on the cheek before leaping behind the counter. He rubbed his cheek, mumbling something about tardiness and "trying to butter me up with kisses, goddammit!" but Tifa could tell that he was pleased.
Cid had been the only one to accept Tifa's application, and though at first she had been deathly afraid of his rough demeanor and casual insults, she had discovered him to be a goodhearted man and considered him to be the father she never had.
Despite Cid's constant complaints that she was "a goddamn pain in the neck" and "was gonna give him an ulcer" he was extremely protective of Tifa, and constantly looking out for her.
"You're lucky that the rush isn't here yet," he said grumpily, seating himself on one of the creaking bar stools, " Or your ass would be on the curb right now."
"Yeah right," Tifa said, smugly setting a tea cup in front of Cid, " Then who would you have to make tea just the way you like it?"
Cid squinted in response, and snatched the cup, downing it all in one gulp. Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, in a very manly fashion, Cid said, "Now how are you're whatchamacallits? Your picture and photo thingies?"
Tifa laughed and said, "Not so good, I've been practicing taking photos since that concert a month ago, but without a better camera and some sort of darkroom, there's only so much I can do."
Cid gestured to a few of Tifa's photos, recent additions, on the wall and said, " Well, screw it, who needs a nice camera when you can already blow the fuckin' world away with pictures like these?"
The photos were one's she had taken a few weeks ago, at a concert headlined by another one of her favorite bands, The Doors. (yay!J) They had a very cinematic feel to them, and accurately portrayed the bands intensity. There were also a few other she had taken of the back streets of Midgar and the people who inhabited them, strewn across the wall.
Tifa picked up a rag, and started to wipe glasses saying thoughtfully, "Strange, before I was so into drawing, but now I just can't stop taking photos of everything!"
" Well when you got talent, you got talent!" Cid said matter of factly, " But don't get a goddamn big fucking head, just cause you got talent doesn't mean you're not a screw up of a bartender!"
"Right," replied Tifa, rolling her eyes, " I'll keep that in mind."
The sound of the door slamming at the entrance of the bar, caused both Tifa and Cid's heads to swing around. Standing in the doorway was a tall, imposing figure wearing a long, black raincoat. He was wearing dark sunglasses, and on his head was a gangster style hat, that shadowed his features.
Tifa glanced at the clock, and was shocked to find that it was already 6:30. The bar was usually packed by this time. Then she noticed the man was soaking wet, so she deduced that most of the regulars had been unwilling to make the sojourn to the bar in the rain.
The man came forward and elegantly sat himself on a stool, in a very aristocratic fashion. Cid was squinting in a way that told Tifa he didn't like the look of this guy, and Tifa couldn't help but agree.
Who wears sunglasses in the rain? This guy was the definition of creepy.
The man tapped his fingers irritably on the counter and said, "Are you people going to stand there with your mouths open, or are you going to serve me?"
Cid flared up with indignation, but Tifa patted on the arm and gave him a look that said, "he's no worth it"
"Of course sir, what would you like?"
Barely glancing up the man said, "Give me a glass of ice and a bottle of whiskey. And no, don't just pour it into the glass, I will be drinking all of it."
"Right away, sir" she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She grabbed a bottle of the brown liquid from under the counter then filled a glass with ice and dumped them both in front of him.
"What, no fancy tricks?" he said mockingly, to which Tifa coldly replied, "I believe you said that you didn't wish me to pour the glass for you."
"Right, I was just hoping for you to be a little more theatrical about it." he drawled in a monotone voice.
Tifa was bristling with annoyance, and completely ignored the man's comment. She turned her back to him, and suddenly realized how familiar this man's voice sounded. But… she just couldn't place where she had heard it before.
Tifa glanced at Cid, and almost laughed aloud at his countenance. Cid was squinted so intensely at the customer that his eyes had nearly disappeared underneath numerous folds of skin, and he had practically bitten his cigarette in half.
The man either hadn't noticed or simply didn't care, he just continued to sip his whiskey in a surly fashion.
The Highwind Bar was always on the point of being uncomfortably hot, thanks to Cid's intense dislike of the cold, and she could tell that the man was uneasy with heat, since he was fidgeting slightly. With a sigh, he glanced about the room, and began to unbutton his coat. He shrugged it off his shoulders, revealing a tight light blue shirt. There was plain white text on it and Tifa read aloud, " I Heart (a/n it would be an actual heart symbol) Revenge."
She couldn't resist laughing, but stopped mid-giggle when the man looked up and she got a good look at him. He had taken off his hat, and his dark shoulder length hair was revealed. Tifa could feel her heart spinning as she came to a sudden realization.
It was Vincent!
"What's so funny?" he asked.
"Nothing, I was just reading your shirt."
For a split second he looked incredibly confused, but then peered down at it and murmured, " Oh right, I forgot… My friend has a clothing line…"
He trailed off then calmly returned to his drink. Tifa stood gaping for a couple seconds, bewildered and slightly hurt that he hadn't recognized her.
'Oh wait!' she suddenly remembered, 'He was super pissed when I last left him, so I don't see why he would remember me.'
She frowned.
'Whatever! Who needs him? I'm not even gonna acknowledge him, I'm no screaming fan girl!'
Satisfied, once again she turned away from Vincent and grabbed a broom. As she swept Cid glared at her curiously and said, " Lockheart! Why's your face so fuckin' red?"
Tifa felt like she would die from embarrassment, as her face turned a few shades darker. She brandished her broom threateningly and said, "Maybe if you lowered the temperature in here a few degrees, it wouldn't be!"
Vincent raised his eyebrows and Cid just continued to glare at her suspiciously, but luckily Tifa was saved by the entrance of more customers.
Actually 'more' seems an understatement. The bar literally was flooded with customers.
Wedge, a regular at the bar, called cheerfully to Tifa, " Ho! The rains' stopped so we all made our way over to see your pretty face! Do you have any new dishes for me to try?"
He patted his fat belly jovially as Tifa smiled and nodded. He sat next to Vincent, and nudged him whilst saying in a confidential tone, "Tifa always let's me try her cooking!"
The brunette completely ignored him, even when Wedge nudged him a second time, and a third, and so on. Wedge wasn't one to quit and was about to nudge Vincent a tenth time when Tifa placed him meal in front of him. He decided to give up on the stubborn man, and enthusiastically began to eat.
Soon Tifa found herself extremely busy, between cooking appetizers and serving drinks. Cid had taken over the bar, and was whipping up drinks like lightening. Sweating, Tifa called out from the kitchen, "See Cid? It's times like these that we NEED another worker!"
"Fuck no!" Cid cried, waving his hands around excitedly. Cid always got hyper when there was a crowd at the bar or when anything to do with flying was mentioned. During his youth, Cid had been a pilot in the Wutaian War; practically one of the best ones out there.
"I mean, you're barely substandard at this job! I've done this all alone for ten years before you came, and there's no way I'm hiring another screw up!"
Tifa shook her head dejectedly, and struggled to keep up with the orders. After what seemed like hours, all the customers were watered and fed, so only the occasional drink had to be made.
Tifa groaned in relief, and took a swig from the bottle of Vodka she was pouring into a mixed drink.
Vincent smirked at her and said patronizingly, "Aren't you a little young to drink?"
"You're not that much older." she replied icily, "Keep acting like such a bastard, and I'll card your ass."
She was shocked by her own brazenness and could tell Vincent's feelings mirrored her own. He recovered quickly and said breezily, "Who took those photos up there? The one's of Jim Morrison."
"That was me"
"They're alright" Vincent said nonchalantly, but Tifa couldn't help but notice way he eyed them.
"So what, are you some sort of artist?"
"I guess you could call met that."
"Hmm…" he whispered thoughtfully, swishing the liquid in his glass around. He pulled off his sunglasses, and Tifa caught a flash of pain deep within the red irises. He turned his gaze towards her, peering through hooded lashes. Tifa couldn't help but notice how beautiful he looked, with his tight blue shirt and dripping hair, and she could just imagine him saying, "I Love you" in his deep, raspy voice.
He licked his lips delicately and said, "Ketchup… on your face..."
Tifa was mortified, and ready to turn away again, only to have Vincent lean towards her. His pale, long fingers stretched toward her face, as he carefully wiped the stain away.
His eyes were smoldering, but Tifa couldn't help but feel her stomach sink. As much as wanted to enjoy such attention, she couldn't resist the wave of nausea and fear that swept over her.
That bony hand reaching. It reminded her of his.
Her whole body stiffened and Vincent quickly pulled away from her.
It was as if he was withdrawing upon himself, setting some invisible barricade between them. Once again, a look of blasé mockery graced Vincent Valentine's features, as he leaned back and crossed his legs on the bar saying,
"So, why do you work in a bar? Are you a drunk looking for free liquor or something? Or is your mother a materia fiend, so you have to work your poor, unfortunate hands to the bone to pay the rent?"
This was a low blow, Vincent didn't realize how close he had come to the truth.
Years ago, when materia was first discovered in Wutai it exploded on the Midgarian drug scene. There were all different types of materia, coming in all colors and sizes, and scientists had revealed over the years that the smooth stones were formed when pressure was applied to Mako after a long period of time.
They were a powerful hallucinogen, causing it's users to see themselves shooting fire or bolts of lightening, while it also had the same effects as adrenaline, resulting in increased strength and enhanced senses. Overall, materia made its users see things that weren't there, and to be sucked into a false world of "spiritual truth."
Highly addictive, materia still had a stranglehold over Midgar. Dealers made millions, grounding the stones into an inhalable powder or mixing into a liquid form that could be injected with a hypodermic needle, and sold it illegally on the streets. People fought tooth and nail for the drug, despite its gruesome consequences.
Gradually, the stones gave their users Mako poisoning and too often people overdosed on it and died.
Tifa's mother had been a materia junky. She became so reliant on the drug, that the women spent virtually all the family's money to buy it, leaving Tifa starving many nights. Her mother was abusive, and when she had the gall to beg her daughter to steal money from the bar, to buy drugs, Tifa was fed up and applied for her emancipation. Tifa still couldn't help but love her mother, but the drug had transformed her into an unfeeling monster.
Tifa rubbed her arm vigorously and mumbled, " You should watch what you say…"
The anguish in her eyes was evident, but Vincent couldn't bring himself to apologize. He just looked through her disinterestedly,
" You rubbed your arm like that a lot when I first met you." He said in an even tone. Cid, who had been eavesdropping the whole conversation, and disliking this dark man more and more, swung his head around sharply.
Tifa was shocked, and couldn't think of what to say.
Vincent stretched his lithe, apple-white arms above his head , " You name is Tifa… right?"
Blushing, Tifa grasped the edge of the bar in order to stop it from rubbing her arm and whispered, "You remember me?"
Vincent leaned in closer, and throatily replied, "And you thought I had forgotten your sad, sad, little face…"
Cid growled when he heard this, deciding that this strange man was getting a little too friendly with his 'daughter' and began to storm towards the awkward couple. But his actions were interrupted, when the doors slammed open, to reveal two masked men, each holding a pistol.
Oh cliffhanger! (cue suspenseful music). I'm trying to turn the Final Fantasy world into a believable one, thus the references to wars and stuff. I know it's hella random that materia is a drug, but if you think about it, that sort of makes sense. Don't worry all these semmingly pointless references are going to be a pertinent part of the story later on.
Except for the part about the Doors, that was just a gift to myself! Alright, review pretty, pretty please!