act one - shatter
IV - the devil you know
I thought of us, hard to talk these days
Did we change
Or were we strangers all along?
Tell me what caused us to turn away
There's a wall of silence miles across
A wall between us, holding back
Holding back our loss
I moved ahead, thinking you'd be there
But it changed
And now we're strangers to our past
How did I lose you along the way?
-- Wall of Silence, October Project
***
Modern language has a way of defiling certain words - cutting them down in their prime for the latest trend or the easiest expression. Take, for example, the ever-so enshrined concept of love. Placed upon a pedestal that all the world might wish for it, it can most everything to a number of people at any given time. And yet those same dreamers cut down their precious concept in the same breath that fuels their fantasies. She 'loves' to eat onions. He 'loves' to play golf. Words become so watered down that they must be distilled for special occasions.
Some people finally find True Love, after years of professing a 'love' for their favorite glass jar.
Fujin Asher had experienced a kindred revelation that evening, when she found in herself the meaning of True Rage.
He didn't love me. Fine. I was always prepared to deal with that.
Taking out a few guards at the makeshift palace walls had been one of history's simpler atrocities. It wasn't as if Fujin had expected them to be anywhere near the caliber of killer she was used to sparring with - killing them was likely a dishonor in some must code of conduct or other. But their blood on her hands as she vaulted over the edge of a bone-white barricade was nothing but an afterthought of a message from one soldier to another. If you choose to kill, you choose to die. Any kiddie with a sawed-off shotgun or the Shiva they found in mommy's garden can off their neighbor, but it is the true professional that prepares to dodge the consequences.
But to try and use me, after everything we've done together...
Damn it felt good to cause something pain.
Fucking bastard.
A bullet nearly fired before she sheared off an errant hand at the wrist with a well placed toss of the shruiken. Amateurs. Thank Hyne for the idiocy of compulsory military drafts... They'd soon poured into the city by handfuls, tromping with the inverse of stealth out of the compound at their strangely beloved Seifer's bequest.
The bastard formerly known as my strangely...
Shit, Fujin. Get some control over yourself.
Six men at five o'clock, and the harsh purr of motors from nine. Two alleys - two exits- both blocked. Visibility minimal on a night quickly becoming more clouded than anticipated, with no lights on residential back streets. The crouched killer, slightly-built frame beginning to feel a bit the worse for wear as her hands met parched pavement, had no idea how far away they were.
Never did. Distorted Depth Perception due to Non-Congenital Defect. Far too many ineffectual proddings by Kadowaki to forget that - as if an exam was going to resurrect her eye from the great beyond.
Defective. That's a good one.
They thought that they had her trapped like an animal, yelling their asses off in some pansy parody of the highly overrated macho battle cry. The sound was enough to make her cringe at their lack of restraint, ricocheting off of moss-covered walls.
Their flashlights blinded her, dread illumination piercing the comfort of dark. Eyes of the more beta section of the wolfpack searching her out. And indeed she must be a sight for predator's eyes - cyan tunic half shredded off and hair gone to hell in the maelstrom.
The soldier had no time for this.
"PANDEMONA."
Hello, old friend.
And if she knew Pandemona it was getting antsy anyways, feeding off the added adrenaline in her system. Doesn't do to leave a mad dog to starve.
Will you take my memories as ransom?
It's Presence filled a space of greater weight than air, a place beyond whatever substance her mind had conjured to grant inform. The Presence was hungry.
Won't you this time - just this once?
"KILL."
Blackness. Darkness. Fujin's faculties were suspended for the good of a decidedly symbiotic parasite. Sensory deprivation was a comforting horror as Pandemona leeched something away that the petite woman didn't care to name.
Probably couldn't label if she tried.
And suddenly the world was all greyed hues again, flashlights pulled into what Pandemona might consider a maw. Fujin had never actually seen her guardian in action, but it was comforting to think of it as a devourer. Best goddamn security blanket in the world. And a very considerate virus, given the scratched equipment it had left behind in a shadow-blighted corner.
The motorcycle was the usual half-assed and undermaintained military standard, but it would do. Soldiers made do with the resources they are given - end of story. It was her own damn fault for falling in love with a fantasy just like that prick who appeared to be Seifer had.
Fujin revved the motor, utilizing skills that had gone unpracticed since a vehicles class that seemed half a world away. The vibrations traveled up an arm invaded by goosebumps, the system shock of physical sensation a very needed distraction. Pandemona was joyous, and when it returned with that peculiar tingling feeling... so was the soldier. A strange kind of happy, all sated hunger and whirling rage.
Both could hide their forms behind the impassivity of alabaster brows all they liked. Denying that they would have been overjoyed at being granted the ability to summon a wall of force to raze this place to the ground accomplished nothing. It didn't change the fact that they felt like hurting something.
Hurting someone.
Hurting herself.
Hurting him.
***
A Knight needs a Sorceress.
"Rinoa... are you alright?"
To stand at his side. Lend him her power.
And he'd protect her.
"S-Seifer? Why have you locked my in here, I... I.. saw..."
Someone unconditionally loyal.
Through the night at one hundred miles an hour, a silver arrow streaked through the city streets. It skidding, roaring defiance against the stillness of a newborn night under curfew just as it refused to heed the inherent danger of cobblestone.
Blurring brick, blurring streetlights, blurring signs of pursuit that couldn't hope to catch enchanted speed. Heading strait for the one thing left that the one who'd tamed velocity could trust.
Her wounds couldn't have been a more welcome distraction.
Blood wended its way down her shoulders, overtaking
the dried remains of that which had tried the path before it.
"Shhhh... it's alright. You're going to be fine here. I'm sorry I had to do this to you - I didn't want you getting hurt out there."
Who'd profess to loving him.
"I-I just..."
Who'd never leave him. Ever. Tied to her protector.
Dependent.
"It's alright. I'm here now. I'm not going to hurt you. Don't tell me you've forgotten what we had already, Rinoa."
A Knight needs a Sorceress.
She'd said she loved him, but he hadn't wanted her.
Foolish. He needed her.
"R-really? But what about everything that's
happened. I don't understand what's happening. Are they all
alright?"
The army couldn't - nay, wouldn't - move faster than she did. Dark, thick pines lined the roadway and the bullets at her flank had given way to the purr of a combustion engine. A rush of crisp night air wiped any trace of lit gasoline's stench away.
They'd have to get their equipment out here and circle the garden first.
Frozen lips almost grinned, and their owner gave herself over to the acceleration with reckless abandon. They'd be too late. Raijin and the Garden would be alright if this dark ride killed her. She'd given up too much to a fantasy of a lover already.
Fucking bastard.
Arching her back to rage against the moon,
Fujin cursed his name to the heavens. If she didn't hate him,
anger and blood loss did well enough to convince her so.
A Dream needs a Sorceress.
"One I was not longer tied to Edea I took control. It was unfortunate, but your father was killed by ... fringe elements."
And a Knight should be prepared to sacrifice everything.
"Oh, Hyne..."
He could love a Sorceress. Eventually. He was supposed to love a Sorceress.
"Shhhh... don't cry. I'll protect you. Didn't I always tell you that when we were running around the countryside with your fighters? I'll always protect you."
A Knight needs a Sorceress. A Dream needs a Sorceress. And the Knight would have his Sorceress.
He'd love her.
"Oh, Seifer...please just hold me... "
Eventually.
"Always."
Then everything would be fine.
It stood out like a volcano on the horizon - hard edges and angles where foliage should have been. Might have been mistaken for a shrone in the old days, when people put more effort into things that were less usefu/.
Pulling up to the dimly-lit scarlet monolith, Fujin stormed her way past the surprised-looking night guard to tension-draining release.
The commander was in.
Galbadia Garden only thing she had that wasn't his already. Seifer Almasy had taken her pride, her dignity, a heart two sizes too small, every good memory the soldier had of the last six years.. and ground them under the heels of those black leather boots.
Goddamn user - just like the rest of the world. Out to take advantage of the orphan - make her think she's family and cast her to the streets. Adoption was the ultimate con, really.
This was the one thing that was hers, and it was going to stay that way.
"RAIJIN! WHERE?"
A passing student gaped under the glow of artificial light, looking a terrified askance at her state of bleeding undress.
"Your office, Commander..."
The Commander couldn't care less. This place had walls of steel and flight capacity. From a strategic standpoint, things were going to be just fine.
***
Parents and guardians, the vaunted primary caregivers, all give children the same line when they're young. Stating with righteous certainty and more that a little vicarious fulfillment that little Jimmy can be whatever he wants to be if he really, really tries.
It's no wonder that they usually break out the fairy-tales after that.
Alexander the Great, Professor Odine, Hyne herself- every single one was born with something special that nobody else could quite emulate. Incompetents cannot be president, and drug abusers don't magically metamorphosis into healthy adults. Nay, when one is older they feed you another line right after they kill off Santa Clause.
Some people are born to things like genius and sorcery and charisma and the flow of recorded history. And some people just aren't.
That Raijin Kasim had never been enlightened as to this second principle was quite obvious, given the rather uncomfortable predicament he had currently backed himself into. Luckily, as he nursed his indecision as to whether to ask his former victims-by-association for help, his more centered friend happened to burst into the room. Had she not been covered in bleeding scratches, the fighter might have been overjoyed at her return. He also might have feared for the fate of his shins when she noticed the two young men slumped in the back of the room.
Thank Hyne for mixed blessings.
"Fuuj.. what happened? Are ya ok? D'ya want me to..." oh, man. Fuuj looked wrecked. All bloody and kinda... well.. indecent. Maybe if he grabbed her a coat or something she's be less likely to...
"HALLWAY. NOW."
Oooh-kay. So she was in one of those moods. Poor Fuuj.
It was in the fighter's best interests to be ushered into the fluorescent hallway.
It was a bit of a surprise when Fuuj, looking all suspicious at the office, put her hands on his shoulders instead of striking him in the calves. Not that he was complaining, but it was actually kinda scary. If she wasn't trying to kick him, something really must have messed her up.
"TRAITOR?"
Awww...geeeze. She looked like she was gonna cry or kill someone or something. Well, for Fuuj anyways - and he knew Fuuj better than anyone. His friend never cried. And now Raijin was feeling all bad and..
"Nonono... don't worry about that, ya know. I heard about the soldier people comin' over the police radio an' thought they might be Carroway's. I thought maybe, ya know, since you weren't here... " the bronzed lunk babbled in a desperate pretense of normality. And minute now she'd get more pissed about the fairy-boys and..
"Thank Hyne."
Hug him?
What the hell?
Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap...
"What d'ya mean? Did something happen to Seif?" now seemed like as good a time as any to panic, though he hoped the tiny pal wasn't noticing through the great big bear hug he was giving her.
"You could say that, " Fujin growled into his shoulder.
"Fuck, Fuuj... he isn't..."
Oh crap oh crap oh crap...
"He's gone, Raijin. Just like we thought. Gone like our Seifer was never there at all," Fujin ventured to crack a rare, weak smile, " Maybe ours was never there at all."
Oh Hyne - they'd talked about this. Analyzed it to no end. How they might have to leave him , how they might have to hold out for the real Seifer...
But he must have done something to Fuuj to make her crack like this. How could he? He was their friend... their family...
Raijin had never thought it would really come to this. Fujin mulled over a lot of things, even if she didn't say so, and they never happened either.
"Shit, Fuuj.. can we fix this...? He's Posse... "
"Save him?" his buddy pushed him away to the captain's mixed relief. Not that the woman really had the strength to push him, but Raijin wasn't exactly in fighting stance at the moment. " Don't you fucking get it - our Seifer doesn't exist! Just one more bastard using us. That's all. "
He'd known Seifer for years and now... Damn. They were supposed to have been able to prepare for this and just run off into the sunset. Nobody was supposed to get hurt. The way Fuuj was all banged up it musta been Seif who sent out those soldier people...
Why would he do this?
Raijin had thought he knew the man.
Raijin had thought a lot of things.
" I ... APOLOGY, " the pale, too-thin woman muttered to the floor. Awww.. he knew she never meant it.
He must have looked sad, ya know. Great. The last thing she needed was to be more upset, especially with that scum waiting for them in the next room. Raijin shoulda known ...
But things were gonna work out, if they stuck together. They always did. Fuuj always knew what to do, even if Raijin was beyond lost.
" I know, ya know. We... we were okay alone before. An' we're gonna be okay by ourselves now, " the man attempted to inject his usual cheer into hollow words. But she seemed better, ya know? Seemed back on her feet. At least that was a relief even if Raijin was kinda sad and all. He wasn't gonna be depressed now, though - Fuuj needed him.
"We saw this coming,"
Fujin looked at Raijin.
"We saw this comin',"
Raijin looked at Fujin.
The words weren't what made it feel any better.
"Back to work," the petite storm grabbed the big ol' coat he'd snatched for her on the way out, and turned back to the office door. "For once in your life you may have actually have had a good idea."
The fighter had the feeling that he wasn't going to like this, but there really wasn't anything else to do but go with it. Fuuj knew best.
"Maybe ya should use a cura or something - I think I have one here if ya..""
"NO. SCARS.... REMINDER.
***
"DEAL," the woman wasted no time in dispensing with pleasantries as she stalked into the room, lapsing into her strangely efficient means of communication. Squall wasn't terribly sure why she was injured, nor did he really care, but having suffered such wounds himself he could sympathize the desire to get this exchange over with.
"What do you want?" Squall had seen this coming. Seifer might be unrestrained, but his sidekick had always seemed at least somewhat professional. Besides- a brokered freedom would put Squall one step closer to new orders, and out of this whole chaotic mess.
The icy facade of a soldier served him well here. He might have imagined her giving him a nod of approval. Finally, someone who didn't expect him to break down and cry about his 'issues' ever time they initiated a conversation.
"... HELP."
Ah, the reversal of fortune. Squall and the fool fidgeting beside him were the only people here capable of the committee's caliber of offense, and they both knew it. It was time to be sensible.
"With what?"
If he had to care.
"Seifer wants to take this place down. We're not going to let that happen. I assume that you want that less than I do," she was using full sentences again. Interesting. Facade or lapse? Seifer had a knack for getting good help that belied his unprofessional nature.
"No."
No, the brunette supposed that he didn't. It would be against mission parameters, wouldn't it?
"Good. Two of us will be enough to clear out the reactors and get this place airborne. He can't touch us there."
"And the other two defend the gate?"
"Yes."
"What!?! You can't deal with them? This is hella wrong man, you can't trust them with..." Zell had leapt to his feet, once again trying to show some kind of twitchy martial prowess. Idiot. Of course Squall knew better than that. The iceberg would never understand his ability to concoct an elaborate system of justice and yet fail to see the good parts of an achingly simple mutually beneficial agreement.
Squall didn't feel like dying today. Not at the hands of Seifer Almasy, at least.
"No, we can't. Raijin stays with me. Zell stays with you. And after this all we go free. Deal?" then they could get back to Balamb and normality. Surely the rest of SeeD couldn't be so capricious as his erstwhile compatriots.
"We have no reason to hold you," Fujin vocally shrugged.
"Fuuj - you can't," Raijin, it seemed, was also concerned until Fujin shot his a sharp look. Perhaps something like that would help get Dincht to shut up...
"No. Seifer abandoned us. We move on. There is no time for this."
Abandoned? Interesting as well. That didn't sound like the overblown braggart he knew. If the mercenary had cared about Seifer's motivations that might have been an important clue as to his mindset.
"Take Leonhart and get the turbines running," Fujin commanded her partner before allowing her one eye to fall on Leonhart. Her hands were behind her back - an admirable amount of control. " If he dies, I will personally see you gutted if it is the last thing these students do."
Of course. The lion nodded in assent, somewhat relieved to be once more among people who wanted to be his coworkers, rather than an incomprehensible pack of would-be friends.
Coworkers he understood. Squall had no problem with the professional relationship.
"But Fuuj, it's dangerous out there and kinda.."
"I'll take the gate."
"Fuuj, lemme.."
"I'll take the gate. C'mon Dincht"
The aforementioned Dincht was swearing under his breath again. The child of rain wasn't exactly sure what the blonde hoped to accomplish with that, but left it up to the shorter man's discretion. Zell's apparent wish to look like a moron wasn't any of Squall's concern.
"... Whatever."
Pulling himself upward with leather garments sticking slightly to the couch of like material, the mercenary retrieved his gunblade from an oddly silent Raijin. Green eyes scoured the metallic surface, careful to appear nonchalant as they hunted from any blemish which might tarnish the weapon. Finding none, Leonhart relaxed to rest the comforting weight on his shoulder - an action which pushed a tuft of fur to tickle his cheek.
Raijin was experimentally twirling his staff, as expected. Really, such displays were quite unnecessary. There were better things to ponder than the multitude of ways in which they could pointlessly threaten one another.
Escape. Survival. A new mission, and yet the only sort of mission he'd ever taken. And, for some reason he didn't bother to dignify with a definition, Squall felt oddly more relaxed by the situation.
It had been odd, having nothing to do there. Just sitting.. had been uncomfortable no mater how much he rationalized discontent away.
Mother Nature, you see, is not a foolish woman. When she decides to craft something, it is what she says it is regardless of what it might have to say about the matter. Who better, after all, to understand the inherent properties of the materials of construction? Raindrops, lakes, ocean, rivers, waterfalls, or the most insignificant puddles of mud - it doesn't really matter. The elements of water share one basic trait which defines them, and she will stand for no deviation. Eventually, the most frigid icecaps must melt to it's true persona. And so though liquid flows and freezes and melts and wears away the ages, it has one rather uncomfortable weakness despite the hope of solidifying state change. In short, water needs a vessel. Something else, something foreign and unyielding, to guide motion and shape that ageless power might be focussed, dissipated, or simply visible.
That such a guide must be dwarfed by the vastness of what it keeps is irrelevant.
In any case, if the stuff of water has no such guidance, it is forced to fall into the closest serviceable container it can find regardless of any opinion it might have on the matter.
Mother Nature brooks no defiance when she has decreed a trait. Not even from the most favored of lions.
***
They'd stopped taking the clothing now. She looked cute in her new dress - it was a lot like the old dress. But then Sephy had always looked cute. Matron had said so.
The place where they were now wasn't very much like the lighthouse beach. Dirty and cheap, with flickering wrecks of electric lights to stave away the encroaching night. They'd only been able to afford one room - Sephy said that they needed to pretend to be married so the Galbadians wouldn't capture them and kill them. But that was fine. Irvine would have killed to be stuck in a cheap motel room with Selphie Tilmitt a week ago, and there was certainly no reason not to feel the same way now.
Matron said you were a nice girl.
Irvine knew what do in a situation like this. he'd always been good at it. And Matron would approve.. wouldn't she? Irvine didn't want to be alone anymore.
Maybe if Sephy remembers .. maybe then. Good people remember, right matron? it's the bad ones, the bad people who took you away - they don't remember.
"Do you remember?" the gunman inquired of his companion, who was currently perched on the edge of a not-quite-sanitary looking bed.
We'll come to see you at the beach when the soldiers stop looking for up. It'll be nicer there. I promise.
"Geeeze, Irvy.. you could try to be a little clearer."
She was cute when she pouted. Most girls were, when they didn't smile like Matron.
"Do you remember where we came from before we were sent off to the Gardens? Do you?" settling himself beside her, the cowboy followed instinct and experience to place an arm about her shoulder. Girl did what he asked when he looked at them like that, and he wanted her to remember. So did Matron.
"I don't wanna go away to Garden alone, matron."
"There's no more room at Balamb and Trabia. I'm very sorry, Irvy. You're a nice boy, you'll make new friends - don't worry. "
And she smiled at him.
"We? As in together? That's kinda wishful thinking, Irv.. and those wicked gf power things sorta messed with the old memory a bit. I was prolly in an orphanage somewhere. D'you? Remember that is? Was it cool?" she smiled. Not like Matron, though. Never like Matron.
".. I remember you." Irvine bent to whisper in her ear, gliding his hands around her waist.
"Dude, what are you..."
Sephy squirmed a little in response, but she didn't seem too upset. He thought he caught her giggling a bit.
"We were all there. Quisty and Squall and Seif and Zelly... and you. You were my best friend. I wish you would remember. It's.. it's wonderful to have a family. "
She looked like she was thinking, leaning back into his shoulder. Maybe...
"We.. we grew up in the same place?" Sephy puzzled.
"Don't you remember? Please, please you have to try.. on the beach? And we'd play cops and robbers, and bury matron in the sand.."
"I... wow. I kinda.. sorta... That is so coool! I guess maybe I might remember a bit..."
Yes!
"Please try.. please. I remember having a family. I ... I don't want to be alone anymore..."
Irvine gathered her up, already knowing what his next move would be. He'd done this before, but he'd still been alone then. This time things were going to go right.
She didn't make for much of a weight in his arms.
"Irvy...?"
"You do remember, " Irvine grinned into her neck, pulling her closer. "You were always a cute kid. But.. you're cuter now."
"Really? " Sephy was smirking a little herself.
"Really," purred the assassin.
"Since I left Trabia I.. I don't wanna be alone either."
Good.
See Matron? I told you. Aren't you proud?
When he started kissing the girl's jawline, she didn't protest.
***
There are amenities that one expects a decent boarding school to have.
A dorm. A cafeteria. Classrooms. Likely the odd auditorium or gymnasium facility.
Mecha armor docking bays and flight capacity usually weren't part of the program, but Fujin wasn't complaining. Whoever said that Galbadia Garden was a school anyways? A few malformed freaks of financial pimp backers? A man without the balls to call the kettle black? Or maybe the general public that didn't want to be so crass as to categorize it sanctuary or poorhouse.
What Galbadia really was happened to be a fortress, because Fujin said it was a fortress. And damned if that wasn't a good thing right about now.
"GF classes to the observation decks. We need to keep their vehicles away from the entrance. Nobody - and I mean nobody - is using fire spells. Bastard will burn us alive if he's out there, " having pulled on Martine's heavy black cloak to mask her state of undress, Fujin shouted with an eerie calm to a somewhat panicked group of would-be killers.
"You! The SeeD trainees," a skeptical glare was met with murmurs of discontent form the left. If they'd needed a cheerleader then fate would somehow have transformed that Tilmitt brat here. A school would have merited Quistis Trepe, and Fujin had the feeling that the leadership of one Rinoa Heartilly would have produced a cute little smoking wreck.
But they were stuck with a soldier, and that was that.
Fujin liked to stay to what she knew.
"Get to the gate - defensive firing line under Upperclassman Variev. And for Hyne's sake - if you see anyone injured take them to the infirmary, " classroom rivalries were all too familiar, and far more deadly than they should be at Garden. But right now they needed more than a cocoon of Estharian high technology to protect them - the students of Galbadia Garden needed manpower.
Eye narrowing, Fujin checked the impulse to pull her hands from the customary position behind her back and reach for her cell phone. Raijin... could take care of himself. Really. He could. The pale commander just wanted to kick something before indulging in the tiresome chore of baby-sitting a few hundred kids through their first bloodletting. The inevitable trouble makers weren't worth the time it would take to put them down.
Deceptively still, Fujin waited in the upraised center, counting down the seconds as conditioned air echoed past.
Three.
Two.
One.
A large group of upperclassmen were just.. looking at her, black uniforms forming a clot in the cavernous steel atrium before her eyes. What did they want? Instructions on how to operate a gun?
Situations like this - in addition to the presence of a man who shall remain nameless - were why she'd never bothered to train for command.
***
"WANT?"
"Yo, C'mmander.. We wanna know why we shouldn't jus' give up ta this Seifer dude you've been hyping up the ass and.. gee.. I donno..maybe not die," the inevitable murmur of agreement from the less bold followed, as a sallow looking youth attempted to invade Fujin's personal space.
People just don't touch the wind. The sylph is adverse to it, and this opposed to maintaining their continued health. And Fujin, as elemental arbiter, had not been having the sort of day which was conducive to calm. Fujin was running on adrenaline, a newfound grudge, and half a cup of coffee...
Zell had been pulled in by the Disciplinary Committee - for totally bogus reasons, of course - enough times to recognize when it was Not a Good Time To Piss Fujin Off. Hell, he'd been in charge of the dorm-wide alert. So he pretty much knew that it sucked to be that dude. And his approach was actually pretty crappy anyways, stupid hotheaded Galbadian punk...
"RAGE!"
With a quick blow to the knees, Fujin rendered the youth a moaning heap of pain without bothering to watch him slide across the metallic floor behind her. Shit - that was sooo... well... evil, despite the kid's whole suckage issue. Poor kid. No wonder butch-girl over there spent all her time hanging around with Seifer "Helluva Bastard" Almasy.
But hell - if they were as pissed off at Seifer as Zell figured mostly everyone should rightfully be - then things could potentially be good. And he kinda sorta saw where she was coming from, the martial artist currently to do some beating of stuff himself 'cause of the totally boneheaded move ol' Squall had made. But at least he had the decency not to thwap around little kids.
It was convenient to disregard that he was the same age as the guy.
What was a guy to do when his sorta friend and fearless leader made a Pact with the Spawn of the Devil? Maybe the poor guy had hit his head or something when he was out killing that Sorceress chick
No, no wait. Scratch that. Once Squall was not longer trapped in some kinda wacky Estharian boiler room with Raijin - then Zell would be good. Good thing he was here to watch his pal's back an' keep that freak Fujin from pulling something dirty. If Raijin tried anything on the talented Mr.Leonhart , Zell was gonna give psychobitch over there a reeealy good ass kicking.
"Anyone else here have a problem?"
..Maybe.
The whites of the student's eyes indicated their negative.
"We were sent here against our will. Every last one of us. We were sent here, and we were unwanted, and we were used, and we made the best of things. This is my chance to break the fuck free of them, and you can come with me, or spend the rest of your lives whoring for people like Martine. Now you will follow me into just rebellion and support your right to be free citizens despite the forces which oppress you. If you don't, I will personally rip you into bloody shreds and force-feed you the pieces for your stupidity. Is that clear? "
Geeeeze - no wonder Raijin was scared of her. Holy spaz. At least when Seifer was around she hadn't looked all like she was about to go an a killing spree. Was that speech thing supposed to be motivational? She was bein' , like, Ma on crack or something. This whole thing was hella weird - what was Squall thinking? Not that he didn't know best, but these people were psychotic.
On the other hand, at least Zell was out of the brig. Even if all he got to do was bounce around behind General Fuu the Crazy.
"Good. Man positions. Nobody gets in, and all forces retreat back into Garden on my mark."
Action. Cool.
***
With more than a measure of calm the girl relaxed into the hold of her still melancholy lover. The fading humidity seemed almost tawdry, but Selphie Tilmitt of all people should know how to diffuse an uncomfortable silence.
To hell with stained and twisted sheets, forget the traditional one night stand.
The future is so way more important than a few flashes of memory.
"Shhh... it's alright," still perhaps a bit attuned to touch, slender fingers drifted over the nape of his neck. He should be happy. Poor Irv, all alone...
"It is?" Irvine rumbled languorously against her, still prone himself on the cheap motel mattress. It really didn't feel cheap, though, At least not to Selphie. To a sweat-soaked and newly experienced body, it didn't really matter at all.
And she was used to roughing it. Making do was cool with her. At least she'd managed to bag a guy as cute as Irvine.. right?
Best friends? Whatever. It wasn't like she could remember. But he'd seemed so lost and sweet and confused - it probably was real to him.
"We both know now... everything's cool, right?" the spellcaster murmured, breath caressing his earlobe before reaching it's destination.
It had been fun. She wasn't gonna regret this.
The mercenary wasn't quite sure why she'd given in to his need. But it was cool. No looking back - always eyes forward to the future. That train-ride was never going to just suddenly turn back. Why dwell? Why worry about it? It had just been a .. thing she'd done. Because they were probably going to die in this place soon enough anyways and Irvine was pretty cute and she hadn't seen a reason not to and.. things had just gone a little farther than she'd meant them to. Just a little farther. Nothing to worry about. No big deal.
The future is happy. It doesn't exist, so it has to be good.
"... Right," Irvine smiled down at her, eyes still the tiniest bit hazed. His smile had always been kind of sexy - lazy and devouring at the same time. The very definition of the shit-eating grin, tempered with a subtle self-confidence.
His skin was rough where he pressed against her.
She wasn't regretting this. She wasn't.
Reality-check, Selph - time to move back to the planet of the living. Playboy over there was a one-shot deal. You're not a stupid girl, Selph, so don'tcha dare dwell on this. People like the happy, the positive, the silver lining. You don't want to lose his friendship, do you? You can't afford to have the others dislike you...
Happy. You're a happy girl. Just like the lights outside all a-shining. Yellow and cheery against the darkness - that's the perfect metaphor for you, Selph.
And it hadn't been.. bad, right?
At least now she had a frame of reference.
Right?
Right.
"Now we can just find Squall after we get some rest and, like, ask him.."
"Can't, " did he just chirp?
"Whaddya mean?" Tilmitt was better at it.
"I killed him," the man smiled down, still entwined with her, with all the proud assurance of a small child who'd just tied his shoelaces for the very first time.
Snuggling into her arms, the green-eyed weight that was Irvine drifted into slumber guarded by her presence from whatever memories stalked his dreams. Safe and protected and in a world that somehow made just a little bit of sense again. It was no wonder that he lost consciousness so soon.
A matching set of eyes, smaller and more almond shaped, stood their ground. Scanning the ceiling. Scanning the walls. Growing ever more accustomed to the limited blue grays of night, and gaining back her sight. They tried to do a lot of things, most of which involved attempting to ignore the warmth that crept through their host from the form which weighted them to the spot. A desperate mission accepted - that resolve not to bolt. To lie stone-stiff and think this through while they both lay on the brink of disaster. Patent denial of the soreness between her legs.
Shock, perhaps? Perhaps. More like the machinations of a mind more impressive than it let on.
The siren call to slumber could not hope to tempt Selphie Tilmitt that night.
For once in her life, the future could take it's merry time.
***
"NOW!"
The smell of smoke had managed to entangle itself with the groggy purr of steel turbines. They gave parkland an undeserved industrial feel before fire was extinguished in a gust of wind and an entirely unexpected entity emerged. To those dwarfed by bouts of steam and the conflict of elements, that is. Scrambling into the now only partially scarlet complex, dead bodies, shocked soldiers, and the ruined earth were left in their wake. Metal had begun to migrate past the horizon, and the vacuum left behind was deadly to more than the surrounding vegetation.
They weren't shocked by much in these parts - especially given the current events. But the surrounding forces could hardly be faulted for suddenly halting in their assault as a metallic halo began to form around the shuddering building. Rings of saturn in burnished gold were bearing it away in an act of the god technology whose like had never been seen in all the nation.
A cloud of steel the size of a good few city blocks had taken into it's mind to blot out the moon itself with a shock of silver and amber.
Galbadia Garden had taken to the heavens.
***
The shards were everywhere. Ashen remains of roses rent by broken glass to match once ethereal hangings. Their destroyers were reflected in the embers of a dining table, the only stars that would show themselves this night. A parting gift, perhaps - the force of her impact should have sent the outwards to plague the world. Science dictated that what should have been the Knight's inner sanctum would not be violated.
But the wind... the wind had broken more than the laws of physics this evening. Things seemed to take a turn for the unworkable - the impossible - around her.
Impossible. Fuck.
She was posse. She wasn't supposed to leave him. He'd thought she'd be the only one to never, ever...
"That bitch!"
His body kept meandering back to this badly-lit, wind-scarred tomb which was oddly enough the only part of the palace open to the sky. Fresh air, wending it's way down to cleanse his lungs of burning ash.
Fuck it.
Silicon met it's death under polished leather boots. Ill used, like the general situation, but still serviceable enough to consign the stars to dust in the darkness. Seifer didn't know if she had summoned whatever had decided to block out the heavens. Couldn't know. Couldn't care less. Couldn't leave the last throes of the inferno which had died in the still air, or the motes of dust he half-expected to come drifting up again. He could command here as well as anywhere else, sun-kissed features further illuminated by the decay of flame.
"We can't get through, sir. There's no way we can land a strike force that high up without a Garden of our own."
When he turned to acknowledge the man, Seifer cast the inevitable shadow - the room's only illumination whatever form of artificial sun could be found dissipating behind him. A silhouette to scare the kiddies, in some fucking drama or other. The big, bad, sinister wolf creating the darkness by creating the inferno light.
Remember, children, don't judge a book by it's cover.
Remember, children, this wolf looked the part enough to take the lion's crown.
And the friendliest of breezes can be a maelstrom in disguise, waiting just behind to ravage the path ahead.
"I've heard enough.... destroy Trabia. We don't need that scrapyard falling into her hands too. ICBMs - I want it annihilated," Seifer commanded, pausing to take another turn around the welt which gave him light. The Knight didn't bother to look at the man whom he was addressing, didn't want to see the open doorway. Didn't need to. The shadows dancing across the room at his behest were more entertaining fare that any uniformly ugly-assed soldier.
"Aye, sir. Commander Fujin," saluting, his subordinate seemed eager to get the hell out of the place.
"Asher," burning blue eyes - a contradiction of the limpid pools they should have been, glared bullets across the ruins. Their possessor was either unaware of or enjoying the overwhelming scent of smoke.
"What?"
"Call her Asher, scumfuck. Opposition to the dream does not deserve respect. She is Asher, nothing more. A perpetrator of treason, the fucking poisoned apple... and she is going to be taken down. " What the fuck was so unclear about that? These people were like children. Which was why they needed him - but still. They were goddamn soldiers. A Knight shouldn't need to be a fucking babysitter. What he needed were real fighter, what he needed was...
"Get me Cid Kramer. Trabia will make enough of an example for that ball-less femme to see reason.
"Of course, sir. The outward branches of the military appear to be in concurrence with your leadership, and have taken martial control of the rest of Galbadia. May I congratulation on the appeal you gave to them, sir? " scumfuck kissed his ass unskillfully.
Things weren't going completely as planned tonight. Time for a new stratagem - who was a Knight to yield to such an unworthy foe? Should the messiah capitulate to his own personal Judas?
Six years of so-called friendship seared to ash and bottled away in a room with a view. Good riddance.
".. yes, sir."
Swiftly quashing any remnants of his element in the chamber, Seifer exited with a few almost unnaturally quick steps. Charcoal's perfume still clung to a weary frame, but his senses were dulled to that particular reminder of things left undone.
"Lock this place up," the Knight, once more composed, called to the orderly he knew would be scrounging pathetically at his heels. "Have it bolted."
"Sir."
The marble tiles which echoed upon his leaving were dirtied by whirling remnants of the combustible. Hangings a matching drabness - robbed of their purity by exposure to the elements and a dozen trained soldiers. The Mistress had always been able to keep them beautiful. Things enchanted and ethereal, rather than a pale imitation of halloween ghosts.
Inertia is unnatural, and thus quite obviously the domain of the Sorceress.
"And throw away the fucking key."