Note: Sorry for not posting in almost two months. My interest in fanfiction was started to fade a bit, but it's coming back to me now.
Congratulations to Amadeus Finch for answering the quiz question. The answer was: 'Acid Queen'.
The quiz question for this chapter is: What is the name of the Flyleaf CD that is coming out next month?
Your prize: You can choose what Tifa will start doing for a living. Will she go back into 'film-making'? Will she start a new bar? Or will she have an all-together new job? (Yes, something major happens in this chapter.)
Chapter 25- Ghostwriter Gainsborough
I'm remarkably sorry, folks. There is no poem for this chapter, mostly because Tifa Marie Lockheart's pen is still sitting precariously tilted in its inkwell, much the same as its owner, who is a sinner in the hands of a comfy couch. So therefore, it stands to reason that I, Aeris Gainsborough, am her ghostwriter. When Tifa reads this, she's going to be so proud! Trust me, she desperately wants to write, but can't. Why not? I'll tell you…
…But not before I tell a completely unrelated story first. (It is becoming quite apparent that Kurt Vonnegut has been my muse of late, and that I may wish to bear tendencies lining up closer to his fictional counterpart, Kilgore Trout. Let's hope it inspires Tifa!
You see, a grand performance is beginning to commence. It is not a concert, nor is it a play, a film, a musical, a Brazilian gay pride parade, or a fat comedian eating beer nuts.
No, this performance is a New Orleans-style funeral procession.
At the head of the parade is a rich white policeman on a motorbike. This policeman is either 30 or 70 years of age, and the hair has nothing to do with that discrepancy of assurance. He's on socialized healthcare, and loves every putrid minute of it.
After him is a conductor of trumpeters: Mr. Victorian Era Buildingson. He shall remain unnamed. The entity in the casket has been sick for quite a while, but no one knew that its time would come so soon.
As the procession crosses Fifth Street, Fox's original sci-fi drama 'Dollhouse' springs to life, shouting, "I'm not dead!" It then closes its eyes, falls back into the casket, and the procession continues.
I wonder if Tifa has any French fries.
Fin.
Okay, okay. I'll spill the details. According to what Tifa told me, yesterday's date with Cloud was spectacular. They both dressed casual, but the movie, 'A posthumous Ingmar Bergman film that is really just a cow eating grass and was actually produced by Gore Verbinski, but you know he would have done something like this eventually', was really good.
Movie critics had given it the thumbs up, but it did not actually feature the grass-eating cow at any point in the picture. Because of this detail alone, it will be instantly panned as just another awful sequel. Of course, whether it is a sequel to 'The Seventh Seal' or 'Persona' is up for personal opinion.
Drew Barrymore was pregnant for most of the film's production, so maybe she was the cow.
Afterwards, the two former lovers shared a meal at the Pizza Pit. To hear Tifa talk about it, the place must be highly original. They don't actually have a pit, but their ovens are mighty powerful. So much so, in fact, that the pizza was cooked in only five minutes. The only drawback is that they give you one breadstick per person rather than a whole basketful.
Tifa said she'd rather have salad, but Cloud saw through that feminine excuse. They shared a medium pizza, which was really what Tifa wanted in the first place.
Though she swore she wasn't going to be a pig on their first real date together again, Cloud made it clear that it was only fair for Tifa to eat her share of four slices, since he himself had already eaten the other four.
But the best part of the date was afterwards. Tifa laid her head on Cloud's shoulder and began to cry slowly. Cloud did exactly what he should have done, given the circumstances: Nothing.
For Tifa, he would have willed his whole body to be a shoulder worthy of crying on.
They didn't talk. They both knew what the two main issues between them were.
A squirrel skittered across the pavement. He was headed down to Georgia. Neither Tifa nor Cloud knew what 'Georgia' was, but were sure that they'd heard the phrase before in a feminist folk song, possibly by the Indigo Girls. 'All good squirrels go down to Georgia.', thought a Pizza Pit employee as he began his smoke break.
(It's scary how I knew that!)
Of course, all good things came to an end.
On the way home, the pair of lovers stopped at the Edge Shopping Center. (I didn't put the 'ex' in front of 'lovers' this time. I'm hopeful.)
Cloud bought Tifa a copy of World Of Warcraft, for which I'm eternally grateful. (Not!!!)
As of now, Tifa is still playing that game. I've confronted her about it, but she won't listen! Tifa started playing at 8:00 o'clock in the morning. It is now 7:00 o'clock at night. She's still playing. I don't even know if she's eaten anything. I'd really like for her to write the novel that she's been hoping to complete, so that I can finally go back to the Lifestream and see Zack again. I miss him.
At least now, I don't have to go without communication between us. Oddly enough, Sephiroth left me a gift when he left. I've messed around with it a little bit, and I love it already. Thanckx, Seph! I never thought I'd say that.
I hear someone pulling into the driveway, so I'll have to stop there. You never know who might be able to see a spirit like me.
Reno wasn't in the greatest mood when he walked into the Seventh Heaven Bar, but Tifa didn't notice.
"Playing a silly game, I see. You know, I tried calling you this morning. No answer. I called at lunch. No answer. I called at 3, I called at 6. No answers. What could you be spending all those hours doing?"
"I'm trying to play a game. I have to be a master at this, because Cloud gave it to me."
"Oh. Cloud did this?"
"Yep."
"I see."
Reno was visibly fidgety, and went behind the bar to pour himself a drink.
"Reno, what are you doing?"
"I'm thirsty, but will the bartender do her job? Nooo…she's playing a game. Why is she playing a game? Because she has no customers. You're a work of art, you know that?"
"It's not my fault if I don't have customers. It's a bad economy."
"Or a psycho barmaid…do you realize that as of today, the only income that the Seventh Heaven Bar is making comes from the Neo-ShinRa Economic Rebuilding Grant? You don't turn much of a profit? Shin-Ra helps you. You don't turn any profit? Shin-Ra tears you down."
"I have customers. Just 'cause you're not here to see them…"
"You also have plenty of expenses. It's not easy to keep plenty of drinks in stock."
"Why are you so upset?"
"First, you point a gun at my head, then you go out with Cloud, and now you won't return my calls. The motto of the Turks fits well: 'Payback is a bitch'."
"Reno…the drink…you have to pay for it."
"I'll pay for it if you wear a French maid's outfit."
"In your dreams. You're not the friend that I thought you were."
"Alright, then. I'll see you tomorrow."
"We'll see about that. And you still haven't paid for your drink!"
"Girl, that will soon become the least of your worries."
Soon after Reno left, Tifa played all of her phone messages that she had previously ignored.
"Tifa, this is Yuffie. I overheard Cloud telling Vincent that he bought you World of Warcraft. Can I borrow it sometime? I'd really like to play. Bye."
"This is Rico Gunsalvo. I just wanted to let you know that Don Corneo was fired recently. Since Shocker Productions is under new management, would you be interested in returning? You've been nominated for best newcomer of the year at the Adult Film Awards, and an answer of 'yes' would be a great way to celebrate. The awards are in a week, and they're in the big amphitheater at 9:00 p.m. Dress sexy. See you then."
"Guess who? It's your favorite friend, Blackbird. My baby is coming along fine. I'm a few months along, and I'm really starting to show. I was thinkin' t' myself, 'Mayhap I call an old bugger?' So I 'ave. Oh, 'n by a way, I've spirited off to jolly London. I'm lookin' for my old Pop. I jus' know he'll be a rosy-cheeked robin for how I look now. I triple-dip-dare DSS to fetch me out. I've been doin' some snap 'tography, and you can keep dibs on my trek at . Good eve."
The following morning displayed the evidence that the night could only hint at. In the mail, there was a note of foreclosure. Reno had shut down the Seventh Heaven.
Tifa's first reaction was to look at all of the drinks sitting behind the bar: Drinks that would never be sold again. No need for them to go to waste. Tifa downed a tall glass full of white wine, then joined Aeris in the new 'game' that had been given to her. Of course, at the time, Tifa wasn't aware that it was more than just a game.