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Speak No Evil, Hear No Evil, See No Evil

Chapter 9: It's Not a Great Plan But It's the Best We Got


When they made it back to Guadosalam, and Ormi was being seen to by several Dr. Goons with surgical experience, the Gullwings were invited in and they along with Logos and Leblanc awaited news in the living room. The Gullwings nervously paced about, feet shuffling awkwardly in the suspended tension, inspecting the various elements that the usual inhabitants paid no more mind to than ever. Logos sat in a chair, his knees pedestals for his elbows, as he leaned his nose into the bridge of his crossed fingers. Unseeing eyes bore into the floor. Leblanc sat nearby with a jittery leg bounce, arms crossed. No one spoke.

In the air hung the unspoken understanding that time was crunching away, but they could do nothing. All occupants of the room were doing the mental math on how much time they had left. It had been three days since they were initially cursed. I'll give you one week, that woman had said. Two weeks, if lucky. An insult, in some ways, as at first the curse while annoying was manageable. But now they saw it differently. The consequences were already adding up and what had seemed a minor problem, another adventure in the busy lives of the Syndicate, was becoming a grim sentence. Already the two members could feel the curse, invisibly, inch upon them more in a breach of their sanity and souls.

Another grain of sand in a small hourglass fell.

Logos craned his ears towards one of the back doors, where past labyrinth hallways was a surgery theater had been set up in case of emergencies such as this. The intention of course was a really bad run in with a guardian beast, or any other peril that the Sphere Hunting profession was wrought with. Not if your friend shot you in the back. Any relief he earlier had at devising some ways to cope with his condition was lost as he could do naught but wait. Hidden under his hands he bit sharply at his mouth. His lip creased under his teeth, bruising and threatening to split.

He didn't know, wasn't sure where- if he had known he wouldn't of- how useless! He bore his many thoughts while biting down, his hands tightening against each other. There was a popping in his knuckles that brought Leblanc's attention back around to the gunner.

She stood up with an alarm that had the Gullwings also looking towards them. Both of her hands shot out and jerked his head up from his hands, pointing his face upwards by the grip she had on his cheekbones as she stood before him and inspected what she saw at a glance.

"Boss?" Logos startled, but held still, his hands held out before him but not lowering from where they remained static in the air. His bottom lip looked bruised, but that was not what her eyes were drawn too. His sightless eyes, before blurred and dull, had gotten worse. Milky white slits were cut into the flattish plane of his face, and red vein like structures slid down from under them, marking his skin like cracks in porcelain. She couldn't see where his irises or pupils were even suppose to be. His eyes were white and wet marbles staring blankly upwards.

In suspicion, she removed her hand from his cheek, he tilting his head towards it questioningly, but she couldn't provide an answer. Leblanc touched her mouth, wondering to herself. The Gullwings could see what her fingers brushed however. The red lines were marking the corners of her mouth, trailing down her chin and across her throat, where they crossed like many cords tightening as a noose about her neck.

"It's advancing." Paine said. These words fell like stones in the quiet of the room. Logos whirled his blind gaze around at the sound of her.

"What do you mean, it's advancing." Logos was still woefully confused.

"It looks worse." Rikku tried to helpfully provide, but it only caused a furrow to form on the forehead of both Syndicates.

"Worse?" The gunner's voice rose a pitch, but Leblanc thumped one hard knuckle in his shoulder and he swallowed anything else he might have said. He slapped a hand over where she touched him, looking about lost.

Leblanc turned a stern circle on the rug, pacing away from the gunner who she left feeling confused. A hand came to her forehead, worry creasing it harshly, before she started gnawing on her pink lips as the gunslinger had been doing earlier.

"We'll find a way-" Yuna started but was interrupted by the door opening from the back. The surgeon came out, looking a little put out.

Before complaining about 'not getting paid enough' he did them the favor of informing, "All is well with the wide warrior."

"That's good!" Rikku chirped, hoping the air would clear of some of the clogging depression that was thickening. However, it did nothing to dispel it, as both Leblanc and Logos knew there was more to be said.

"Only one mishap," The Dr. Goon wiped his hands again, absently, on an apron that had a spot of blood that might've escaped his notice. Leblanc focused on that smear of red, her mouth tight against her teeth. The goon continued, "Ormi wanted to wake up a bit early but everything else went fine. He's all stitched up and they're working on getting him up now if you wish to speak with- erm, see him..." The Goon swiveled between the two leaders, their ailments apparent as well as their displeasure, before he looked more than a little tired of trying to watch his language with this whole situation. "Bah, he'll be awake. If all goes well, he should recover in six weeks, and a little physical therapy will take care of anything else."

Leblanc nodded before dismissing him with a flick of her wrist. The goon edged a bow before tucking a foot behind the other, turning in a spin on his heel to take his leave. At the sound of him going, Logos sighed in relief, but pressed a palm to his face nonetheless, dragging it down slowly as he leaned back in his chair hard.

"Now what?" Logos voiced dully, feeling all at once exhausted. "We have...maybe four days? To turn this curse around, and I don't have any clue how to outlast this blasted-"

"What did you say?" Yuna's head, from where it had been bowed in meditative thought, lifted abruptly and looked at the other Gunner with a kind of energy that had Logos stuttering.

"Well, erm, we have been cursed for three days, that means we might have four," Logos swayed his left hand, holding the appropriate amount of fingers in turns, before he added grumpily. "If the Chaser-woman's guesses were correct."

"No, 'outlast'...maybe that's it!" She jumped a little, her hands curling into fists as her arms flexed towards her shoulders. She turned to Leblanc, her hands then dropping down to out past her hips, "Leblanc! What if you just have to survive the curse!"

Leblanc's eyes wavered, unsure of the girl's meaning. This...seemed obvious.

"From what that woman said everyone eventually lost themselves to despair and gave up." Yuna recounted, pacing the width of the living room again in slow deliberate steps. She stopped, chewing worryingly as her eyes softened. "Maybe it's like Shuyin? If you don't give in to despair, it cannot keep a hold of you."

Paine, ever the cynic, voiced, "That still might not undo the curse-"

"Maybe there is a wrong that must be undone too." Yuna's eyes tightened around the images in her mind's eyes, swirling with pain. There certainly had been a wrong committed, and that never boded well in the way of the spirits. As a summoner, who once guided the lost souls, she understood a little about their nature in general. She shook her head, and whirled around, her braid flowing in an arc against the carpet. "Those recordings...that monster. They're connected somehow now. And so are all of you. If you don't give up-if you can hold on-"

"Hold on for four more days..." Logos rubbed his chin with a pondering hand. "Just make sure we don't off ourselves," He made a gun with his trigger finger and 'popped' it against his temple, "Or anyone else." He added grimly. "And then what?"

"We Gullwings will go back and take care of the monster!" Rikku assured them, pumping a fist in the air and landing on her foot with a little skip. She was always ready to support her cousin's optimistic plans. Logos liked her enthusiasm but it didn't land as it should have.

He gestured a wave through the air, "And how do you propose we avoid all of that...nasty business?"

"A complete lockdown?" Paine suggested, folding her arms over her chest and staring down at the gunner, who mulled over the details of how such a thing could be carried out.

"Each of our rooms has a door that could in theory be locked from the outside, with modifications." He stretched out an arm to land on the table he was sitting besides, lounging sideways in his seat as he drummed his fingers over the tabletop. Twap twap twap. The dull thumping of his fingers set an accompanying tattoo to is planning, "We could each stock up on basic supplies individually. Weapons ought to be kept out of reach, or anything that could be turned into a weapon." He made an arc with his finger noting internally several things in his room he could off himself with if he so chose. Morbid as that was he had to consider if he suddenly wasn't in his right mind what might come up.

"No one who has been cursed before ever lasted longer than a week, but they always died by their own hands or by someone else who was cursed." Yuna nodded darkly, her eyes fluttering half shut in thought. "If we can prevent that from happening, by keeping everyone separated and safe, then perhaps we can help you. We'll defeat the beast, and maybe that will break the curse."

"Only problem with that-" Logos interrupted, his finger waggling in the air, "Ormi."

"What about him?" Rikku asked, moaning a little in worry where before she had been nodding hopefully along with Yuna.

"He's going to be recovering from surgery. Won't he need help?"

"But as this curse takes affect, you can't have anyone near him." Paine dully intoned, "He might hurt someone."

"In his state? Maybe." Logos was at first doubtful, but he blinked over old memories and shuddered. Ormi was capable of a lot more things than most would think. He lowered his chin, still deep in thought, and his voice was barely heard as he brainstormed plans out loud. "Maybe sedatives and some damn good restraints..."

He mumbled to himself for sometime, details fluttering out past his murmuring lips, the back of his fist at his chin again. After a while of this, his voice rose with a long drawn out, "This could work Gullwings," Then he added with a bit of urgency, "But if it's going to you'd have to work fast."

"We're super-duper fast," Rikku singsonged with her little shimmy, but Logos didn't seem overly comforted by this. Instead, he turned from the Gullwings to Leblanc, who had listened intently and been stewing in her own thoughts. "Is that alright, Boss?"

As loathe as she was to admit it, perhaps she would have to rely on the Gullwings once more. It was a solid plan...if it was exactly what they thought. And if it wasn't...But what else did they have to go off of? She made fists against her thighs, her shoulder rising towards her bent head. Something felt wrong, a twisting pulling in her chest begging her to find another way other than sitting idly by while others rescued her. However, she could not think of anything better to do. Her earlier plan of confronting the beastie herself was a giant failure. Whatever feeling was amiss in her heart, probably bruised pride, was nothing compared to setting things to rights. Even if that meant putting aside her own feelings, she would do it! For Logos and Ormi, as well as herself. She nodded reluctant approval.

As an afterthought, Leblanc stretched out her hand and gave Logos two taps on his wrist.


"Ormi? How are you feeling?" Logos said cautiously, his face pointed towards where Ormi was sitting propped in the medical wing. The gunslinger was counting in his head the steps until his middle finger caught the edge of the bed Ormi had awoken in. His fingers rasped over the sheet draped over the giant form, before his knee and other hand caught the edge of a stool. He sat down, his white gaping eyes directed at the hulking form that had yet to answer him.

Ormi's eyes were dark rimmed and half-lidded, lines decorating his face as his friend's. The strokes stretched in crooked scrolls from the canals and shell of his ears down towards the very edge of his frowning mouth.

"Fine." Ormi finally grumbled after way too mature of a pause. Logos flinched, taking a personal meaning from his hesitation.

"I'm sorry." Logos said again but winced as Ormi's fist slammed into the cot.

"Quit sayin' that!"

Logos sat subdued, slouching into his form and his head hanging low. Ormi rolled his eyes, grumbling. "Sorry, youse just keep- saying- It doesn't matter. It ain't your fault."

"I shouldn't have-" Logos started but was cut off by the warrior, who while not being able to hear him was still annoyed by the flustered movements in his mouth.

"Quit it! I's mean it! I don' blame youse!" Ormi shook his head, his good hand coming up to clasp the throbbing which dominated the left side of his brain. "Just- quit it, Logos. I'm not tellin' youse again."

Logos blinked, suddenly perturbed. "Are...are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine!" A quality of Ormi's voice said anything but-a rough sort of edge that suggested how thin and irritated his patience was and how sarcastic of an expression was contorted on his features. Although Logos could not see the signs, he knew it from the scornful overtone in which, in rising volume, the warrior hurled at him. "I'm great. I can't fucking hear a god damn thing and you're blind as shit, for what? We's went all the way back to Zanarkand to get nothing but six weeks of bed rest and a guilty conscience. Gotta say, that whole thing was really fucking pointless."

It was Leblanc's turn to flinch, as she entered the room just as his ranting rose to a crescendo. His booming voice was echoing out the door as well, where she could hear him even out in the hallway. Her brows knitted as she stepped past the threshold into the curtained white room, forming counter arguments in her head but helpless to voice them.

While the whole mission had led to nothing but his injury, it's not like they knew that would happen! Stop sniveling about it! It was an accident!

There was a tugging behind her sternum again, that was so distracting that it even squashed her anger. It had been pointless. And the only reason they had gone at all was because she had thought it would help. She, like Logos, wasn't often used to being wrong. Ormi wasn't used to them being wrong, and his disappointment and rage in all of it seemed to be breaking out. There was a throbbing in her throat that had her raising her fingers to the warming pulses that jolted down her neck.

"Ormi, if you're somehow suggesting that this is the Boss's fault, I'm going to have to disagree with you."

"Oh yeah, go ahead and disagree with me, it's what you're good at."

Logos stood up to his full impressive height, his shoulders rising stiffly at the snipe. "Ormi what the Hell is wrong with you?"

"Wrong with me? Didja forget-?"

"I haven't but- this isn't like you." Logos stared at him suspiciously, a thought rising to the surface with a twitch under his white eyes. "Ormi, I have to talk to you. The curse is getting worse. And that might mean, well, we might start having mental afflictions before-"

"Slow down, I's can't read your lips that fast. An' don't use big words."

"We might be losing our minds." Logos made a round gesture with his wrist, before miming a tearing motion from the side of his head. His hand dropped to his side with a thump."Before that happens, the Boss and I have a plan."

Ormi was quiet as Logos continued to slowly articulate, making motions with his hands to perform the various steps, "First we're going to be quarantined. Under lock and key. Understand? Each of us separate from the other, that way, in case something happens, we can't hurt each other. Alright?"

Ormi, a bit calmer than before, although he still squeezed one eye tight against the pain in his head, grunted when Logos stopped to check if his meaning was being caught.

"Now because you've been hurt..." Logos winced a little, a sickened pallor ghosting his face before he swallowed it down, "Because you're hurt, I think it's best we get sedatives so that you'll be asleep for most of the duration of-"

"Wait, asleep? Oh, fuck no, Logos." Ormi shook his head, his eyes flicking open wider than before. The change in his voice alerted Logos to his sudden panic, "I'm not going to sleep again. Not again! I's just woke up!"

"Wha-? Ormi, I know, but it'll only be for-" Logos tried to calm his rotund partner who was grinding his teeth at him. "It'll only be three days at most."

"Are youse gonna get drugged too?" Ormi asked, bitingly. Logos shook his head quickly.

"Well, no but it's only because you just had surgery. We don't want you hurting-"

"I'm not hurt! I just said I'm fine." Ormi blared, and Logos steeled himself.

"You are not fine. There's still a hole that needs mending and that doesn't happen overnight." Logos snapped his fingers sharply, "All the Fayths combined! I dare say you've withstood worse trials than a light coma. You're already getting agitated, and I doubt being cooped up in your room is going to improve your mood. It's only a sleeping potion, Ormi-!"

His mouth had been moving too fast for Ormi to read, and in any case, he wasn't really paying attention to Logos anymore. He had redirected his face heatedly back to the lumps of his knees under the blanket, and thinking darkly on echoing thoughts and impulses. He voiced one of them as Logos continued to rant, cutting him off. "Get near me with anything that'll knock me out and I'm gonna knock youse out, do ya hear me?"

Logos halted mid-sentence, and swallowed, "What?"

"I's don't want to sleep. I'm not going to." Ormi emphasized his words with a gust of angry breath, heaved from the bottom of his chest as a growl rumbled somewhere below in his belly. He turned his face towards Logos, whose face was twitching again as the lines writhed like living things over his cheekbones. A lean hand involuntarily reached up to grasp at the worming veins. Ormi saw this, but didn't comment on it, instead shaking his head roughly and finally lowering his raised fists. He blinked a dozen times, his breath coming slowly from a deflating chest. Logos finished rubbing his eyes, as Ormi, a bit calmer, turned back to him. He was quiet as he grumbled, a little defeated. "Please buddy I'll be fine. Just- just lock me up, whatever youse think is good. I just don' want to sleep."

Logos's shoulders sagged. On his face, the marks pulsed periodically, and his eyelids contracted against the strange throbbing. A little distracted, and tired, he finally sighed. "Oh, alright. Have it your way. But I'll leave potions with you, in case you change your mind."

"Yeah, fine, whatevah youse wants to do." Ormi answered, exhausted. He slouched in the bed, drooping into his form with his heavy arms slung into his lap. He blinked again, feeling the marks on his face also beat a rhythm against his ears.

Leblanc, also feeling that strange sensation throughout the marks on her mouth and neck, took a step forward as Ormi fought the symptoms of their curse. He looked up, blinking rapidly still, and perhaps noticing her for the first time. Or, as his apologetic look suggested, at least acknowledging her.

"Sorry, Boss. It ain't your fault either." His eyes fluttered again, as if a bright light was flashing in his face. His hand rose to paw at his eyelids, "It's just-youse know?"

She nodded so he could see as he removed his palm from his face. She sighed, silently, but the motion was caught by him as well. Leblanc then lowered herself at the bedside, grasping and squeezing the giant hand in her much smaller one, so that he might understand her own apology threading down her arm from her wordless voice. There was a lot to make up for, when this was all done. He gently pulled his hand from hers, raising it through the air to land on top of her skull with a bit of jarring, but friendly, thumps.

"Don't worry!" He patted her head a couple more times, surely mussing her hair, as was indicated by his thick fingers tussling the strands."We'll be fine!"

There was a tenseness that pulled tight all the members in the chamber, their spines stiffening and heartbeats stuttering. While Ormi made the proclamation, still blinking against the pain in his head, and Leblanc and Logos apologized in their own ways, still swallowing against the shuddering going on in the lines across their faces, there was a doubt. A doubt that laid in a heavy fog and did not part, even as they all stood to get ready for the trial that laid before them. What else could they do? They were helpless.


A/N: I had a hard time writing this chapter for some reason? I don't like the pacing but I don't know how to fix it, so up it goes! I'm not an overly clever person either so hopefully that doesn't hurt the story. Horror is not something I often dabble in either, so I'm trying to practice 'show don't tell' but failing miserably! Is it still enjoyable? Let me know :)