Untitled

Never Deal With a Dragon.

Disclaimer: okay easy disclaimer. Everything belongs to their respective parties but nothing belongs to me, although I'm sure if I struck up a bargain with Kuja I could get a black mage on order (though I'd imagine the transport fees would be awful) Well anyway, there is little to no explanation as to how this story came about save that it was created from two major factors. The naturally rough terrain inside my own mind, and the almost physically painful love of everything related to the Black Mage people…

Oh, and all hail the Black Waltzes: Sadistic bastitch aside, I'd vote number three over Bush any day. *Holds up a `Vote Waltz: Yield to inevitability you cringing wretches' sign proudly, hugging a vivi plushie into unconsciousness*

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…will you not talk? Can you take pity, I don't ask much… but won't you speak, please??

He paused in his patrolling, busily sweeping a drift of sand from the hem of his coat. Grumbling to himself a little, he paused, growling as the dust, rising in a faint cloud, immediately shifted, slipping up his sleeve to itch horribly. One hand, on impulse, tried to go after it, the fingers straining uselessly. Shaking his head in annoyance, the type A, pausing, settled himself against the cold stone wall behind him and settled his hand over the lacing on his sleeve, the thick leather straps loosening with difficulty. After a moment's struggling, the cloth hung free, and he sighed slightly to himself, letting his fingers brush delicately against the cool, almost spongy smooth blackness of his arm. Dust fell in a cloud, swirling into nothingness.

He paused, his hand gripping the inside of his sleeve. A cold wind washed over him, ruffling his hat. His eyes dimmed as the hard, dry wind tugged at the corners, drinking the moisture from his wincing eyes. The sun was going down, tinting the sky with a bloody horizon. Everything was turning red, the stones stained with it, the shadows long and dark. Eerie… Oh well, back to a long, cold night of guard duty to come… He shivered at the thought. The forest had been a haven compared to this blasted place… wha?

Thump.

His head rose , his eyes sweeping the gloom in confusion. What was that?

Neh? Must be imagining things… He turned back to his wall, sighing as he settled himself down against the cold, rough stone.

Thump.

Huh? There it was again…

Pushing off from the wall with one foot, he shifted, wandering slowly towards the sound, his eyes tilted and glowing in bafflement. Hand moving over his sleeve, he pulled busily at the last strap, setting the buckle into place. One hand trailing against the wall as he walked, he padded cautiously, his eyes wide and alert as he listened.

…thump.

What was going on? It almost sounded like someone was …hitting something…

Thump thump *smack*

*thwack* COME ON!!

What the…?

Turning the corner, he blinked, his eyes brightening and widening into a disbelieving glow. …what is he doing?

The docking bay stood empty, the Hilda Garde's inert, ugly bulk casting a pool of shadow over the roughly hewn floor. The room was empty, save two figures and a lot of dust. He wandered further into the room, suspicious, confused. What was going on here? …Another stood there, another type A. He was standing beside a type B mage, smaller and thinner, the golden glint of the other's chain dull in the shadows. The figure didn't move at all, inert and immobile. The type B merely stood, slightly crooked, staring off into nothing, leaning away from his seeming companion.

Wh-what?? A disbelieving sound rose in his throat, his hand leaving the wall as he rushed forward, his hand rising to the other A's shoulder. What is he doing??

The other didn't look up as he approached. Neither of them did. He just tensed, his eyes narrowing as he raised his fist once again… and brought it down brutally, as hard as he could, into his companions shoulder. The body just rocked, shifting slightly out of place, then back into its previous position.

He reached the other A, his hand snapping to his shoulder, seizing the cloth. The other tried to shake him off, growling, whipping around to look at the obstruction.

"Wh-what are you doing?? Stop it! You're hurting him!"

The other whirled on him, his eyes glowing a strange color, almost greenish in the faint half light. "I WISH!"

"What?"

"I wish I WAS! I wish I WAS hurting him! I wish he would cry out, or turn around, or yell at me or kick me in the stomach or- or ANYTHING!!! Anything but just STANDING there…" The mage stilled, gaze falling and breath heaving in his throat.

He could only shake his head, his gaze sad as he reached out, drawing his bereaved brother into a hug. His vision turned towards the last figure. It just stood there, staring off into nothingness. It wasn't even a `he' anymore…

He had done wrong, even though he hadn't meant any harm by it… but this wasn't a punishment. This was… crazy, this was ridiculous. This was- wrong.

"This has to end. Now." He patted the other's shoulder once, reassuringly. The other A looked up, curious, confused, wiping once at his eyes. "What- what are you going to do?" -his eyes suddenly narrowed suspiciously. "What are you going to do?"

"Simple. I'm going to talk to Kuja." Releasing the other, he turned, and began to walk. No sense in waiting. It would only allow his cowardice to rise. He had to do this, and to do this he had to resolutely avoid letting his thoughts settle on exactly what… he was about… to… do? NO! Less thought more walking-

"Wh-whaaat?? Talk to- NO! He'll wipe you too are you CRAZY?? Have you already started to degrade? Huh?? Come on STOP! You can't just talk to him he's Kuja! He'll flatten you!"

I'm not hearing anything nobody is talking I'm just taking a nice walk just like in the forest the forest I'm never going to see the forest again I'm not going to ever see any of my friends ever again am I crazy maybe I am crazy I'm gonna die I'm gonna die I'm gonna why am I DOING this?? His foot hesitated… no. Gotta keep going, gotta keep going… for his sake… for all of ours.

The other watched, silent, as the figure stepped up to the teleporter, briefly stepping into the light and is gone…

-

One hand, the skin almost translucent in the faint light, rose in a delicate sweeping gesture, the smooth fingers gently easing a flowing strand of silvery hair behind his ear before lowering once again to the document, fingertip sliding across the fine parchment. His fine eyes, half lidded beneath the flamboyant blaze of red, idly ran over the words, his gaze bored and listless. Washed out eyes rose at the sudden, faint sound. A knock? The book sagged shut… Easing back in his chair, Kuja paused, his muscles relaxed as he propped first one, then the other delicate foot on the desk before him, lounging languidly in his chair. He pushed another irksome strand of hair behind his ear as he comments idly "Zorn, Thorn, if this is you I assure you the message you bear will be written out to me on the floor in your own blood, you were assigned to keep an eye on the… place…? What is this?"

A delicately plucked and trimmed eyebrow rose slightly in exasperated disbelief as the figure hesitantly poked its head into the room. Far from the scrawny, wiry form of the two grizzled jesters, the figure that slowly crept into the room was broad, plush and shaking, the large, floppy brimmed hat pulled over its eyes. He couldn't decide whether he was supposed to be amused or offended by the lowly creature's presence in his sanctuary. He settled for a mixture of both as he settled himself comfortably in his chair, his eyes like twin daggers boring into the cowering figure of the black mage before him. "You have anything to report? Any disturbances…"

"N-no sir. Everything's go at the docking bay. No incidents to report sir."

He paused, waiting for the shaking figure to continue. Amusement turned slightly in the favor of ire as he paused, then continued. "Yessssss…? Then why, precisely, are you here, taking up space in my private sanctuary?"

The figure fretted. His patience was just beginning to wear a little when it started, the walking doll's first opening statements not helping his mood in the least.

"W-well… well, you see… um. W-we were kinda…. Well, well you know what happened a little… while… ago and um-"

"Pathetic…" He shifted in his seat, his gaze wandering. "I suggest you get to the point before I forget you're here with a purpose at all and simply destroy you for being the wearisome eyesore you are…"

"We, well… we all-" no, that's not right… "I. I… have come… with a request."

"…A… request??" He couldn't quite keep the laugh from his voice, the figure before him hearing it and wilting…

"Yes sir, a request. We- I, I ask you-"

"Hold- Tell me…" He shifted in his chair, idly running his fingers through his hair as he sighed faintly to himself, a wry smile lighting his cold face. "Tell me this, my little toy… why, indeed, should I do anything for you? Why precisely should I do you a favor, mmm?"

The figure, wide eyed under its hat, fretted, desperately trying to figure out what to say. If mages could sweat…

He laughed, high and amused. Maybe this would be a little worth his time after all… "Oh, do go on… I'm sooo interested in hearing your opinion of why I should go out of my way to do you, my little reject puppet, a favor. Was there some task you intended to do for me? Was there some favor you could give me? Because I'm sure there must be something you could do that I would never be able to do, you being so very powerful and all and I, well… oh so very weak I'm sure…" His fingers played against each other, his smile crooked and sadistic as he watched the faintly dumpy figure fidget and fret. "Nothing? Nothing at all?"

The voice was low, soft. "Wh-what would you… want?"

"Mm so now it's an offer is it? Well… I'm sure if this favor is small and easy, I could find you some suitably… entertaining task…" He turned away, his face breaking out in an almost genuine smile. He turned a little, looking back at the nervous form of the mage. "Maybe I could order you to go out and bring me… oh I don't know… say, the mandibles of an antlion? Wouldn't that be fun…" Sweat nothing, if mages could blanch… he looked like he was managing fine though. He hadn't ever seen a mages eyes so pale before. This was fun…

"Maybe an extermination run in the halls… the beasties have gotten bolder. Maybe I'll grab a few mages and send them out to flush out a few of the nastier unwelcome denizens of the place. Of course you all, being so gracious in your offering of help, must surely be strong enough to handle the bloodthirsty monsters, right? Shouldn't be a problem…" He waved a hand slightly, smirking. The mage had stopped moving. He was just about to turn back to his book, when a thought flitted across his consciousness. Voice disinterested, he drawled out. "Oh, and by the way… what was the favor you were asking for?

The mages voice was monotone, his words soft and slow. "I wanted you to turn our friend back…"

A pause. "I don't follow you…"

"…It was a punishment…"

Kuja paused, his eyes narrowing faintly in thought… "Hmm… punishment… punishment…" Stopping, Kuja raised his head, his eyes widening. Memory flashed, and his grin turned sickly. "Oh him… he's annoying. No can do little one… off with you now…" Waving his hand, he turned away, returning to the cold enveloping sanctity of his books…

He waited for the door to close. Silent, he hung listening, his eyes fixed on a word he didn't even see. Seven, eight… either this mage was very stupid, very brave or damn desperate… eleven, twelve, thirteen… "You're still here little mage. I believe I told you to run along now…" He shifted a little, just to make the point… twenty five-

"Then take me…"

"I beg your pardon?" He immediately felt stupid for that one…

The mage looked like he was about to be sick. Pale eyed and shaking, he stood there, legs spread and locked, fists tensed at his side and posture almost painfully straight. His eyes, insofar as they could convey an emotion, shown with a sick terror and a vibrant… something, could it be determination? Seeing his attention on him, the black mage perked up a little more, his voice determined.

"I said… I s-said to take me… Take me away but give him- himself back. Please…" Am I INSANE?? Huh?? AM I?? What the hell am I DOING why the hell am I DOING this I've gotta be crazy I gotta be CRAZY…

"Please…" He tasted the word, smirking faintly. He liked it when the mages said please… it… pleased him. He rose from his chair, watching with a self satisfied enjoyment as the mage took a shaky, involuntary step back, his eyes flashing yellow in nervousness…

His steps were soft, languid, silent on the carpeting. He moved with the fluidity of a hunting cat, his eyes soft and appraising as he stalked towards the black mage before him, thoroughly enjoying every simpering cringe and wince. He stood before the mage, he was so much taller than it… It's hand clung to the edge of its hat as it tilted up to look at him, glowing gold eyes wide with a turbulent mixture of emotions…

He bent. Easing to one knee, he settled himself down, his soft hand, the skin almost translucent in the faint light rising to the mage's shoulder. The fingers disappear under the edge of the collar and he gently spreads them, working them into the fabric for a good, strong grip…

The mage starts shaking helplessly as he drew it forward, it's deceptive size lending nothing to it's weight as he shifted it towards him like a small sack of grain. The mage clung tightly to its hat like a lifeline… Just to spite it, he reached for the other side, tugging the hat gently off center, exposing the side of its face to the light. The inky black drew it in and the mage cringed from the sickly illumination… and the sickly sensation of the fair haired man's breath washing over its neck. Kuja leaned in close, sparks of playful sadism dancing merrily in his half lidded eyes. He held the mage tight, off balance, drinking in the shaken misery of the little apparition.

"You know… I really wish the Black Waltzes were still alive… you would have been the perfect gift for one of them… hmm… yes. Number three would have loved you…" His fingers played against the cool black smoothness of it's face as he spoke, and his laugh was high and pure as he saw it begin to shake, trying not to move…

"I would have loved to watch you, look in on you, as you were broken… number three loved doing that to you little guys. The newly awakened, the virgin born…. Those who awoke in transit, or even in the factory. I would bring them there. What use had I for a hopeless reject? It was impossible to recycle them, cheaper to make a new unit. They were useless to me… but he found them… entertaining."

The mages eyes were wide, wider than he remembered seeing a mage's before. He smiled in the pulsing glow. "He would break them… it was like some sort of game to him. It kept him occupied… they would come to him, clean, pure, an open slate, their minds barely formed and empty, hungry…" He snickered at a memory. "He let me watch once. It was… interesting. It was always interesting seeing them right before he killed them. Seeing them in the final stages of their madness, the screams echoing from his private suite… how they would wilt under his hand, their minds cracking, breaking, degrading until they faded away, went catatonic, slipping back into the unformed arms of chaos from whence they had come…" He tilted the hat a little farther, staring calmly into the half closed eye of softest yellow-orange. "Those that he didn't strangle or blind. He always managed to find a new way with each one…" Kuja merely shrugged to himself slightly, sitting up a little and looking into the mage's face. The body was shaking, heaving and tight, the eyes…

Liquid starlight poured from the eyes, leaking down the ebony smoothness of its face. It struggled not to cry, the enemy so near… It didn't move away as Kuja shifted subtly, leaning forward.

"So small… so sad… oh you poor, poor little fool…" One hand gently trapped the back of the black mage's head, fingers like smooth iron, holding it in place. A small sound started, a thin leaking whimper as he easily ducked the dark rim, slipping beneath the mage's hat…

It didn't move, didn't shake, didn't pull away or cry out as his tongue touched the smooth, cool flesh, gently tasting of the liquid starlight… Kuja shivered faintly, a soft purr escaping his throat as he felt the small shock of raw magic flutter through his system. He smiled down at the mage as he shifted, rising… His fingers lingered on the mage's shoulder a half moment longer then necessary, and he chuckled as the shaking resumed again, firmer and more wretched than before. He turned away without a second look, stepping back to his desk with careful, effeminate strides. His fingers lingered on the cover of the book…

"Here's the deal my brave little fool. There is one simple fact you must learn. I hate martyrs… Oh, I find them funny and all that, in their own sickening way… but here is the offer: bring me a cup of coffee and I will restore your little companion's `humanity' to him…" He snickered derisively, walking around his desk to drape himself languidly over the chair. His eyes narrowed in amusement as he cracked open the book, putting a measure of harshness in his voice. "Well?? CHOP CHOP!!"

The book slamming closed counted just as well as a clap as the mage ducked with a particularly out of place `eep!' as it turned, hurrying away from the chamber as fast as its short legs would carry it.

He snickered, turning back to his book. This really was fun… he'd have to do that more often…

_

I'm thinking of doing an expansion fic to go into more detail about all that the waltzes did whenever they were bestowed pets… but of course that might prove a little too much for our younger readers (Sorry folks! ^_^) But anyway, this is the second in Odds knows how many fics will result for our poor misbegotten beguiled little artist… (and why is a cramp beginning to develop in my cheek? Is it because of all the cruel grinning I did while writing this twisted chapter?) Oh, and a piccie gift for the one who can identify this quote: "Double latte… twist of lemon… (in a low, sultry voice) …sweet and low…" Heh. Well anyway, have any comments, flames, suggestions or email pipe bombs send em over to sad_mudokon@hotmail.com and share the happy ranting. I love it when people think that I've cracked ^_^

…poor little artist, he isn't even in this one! But he will be, he WILL BE! Have faith peoples! =)

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