Never Deal With a Dragon.
Disclaimer: okay easy disclaimer. Everything belongs to their respective parties but nothing belongs to me. Not that I don't think it would be cool to transfer to a Qu culinary school of the arts or get a job with the Alexandrian army. hey I'd look hot in one of those little outfits! *laughs at the ridiculous image* 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. those poor saps who always end up ground into the dust by anyone above them. and having large pointy things sent at them at high speeds. well anyway, on with the show! *adjusts the button on her shirt, reading 'Quina is a girl dammit! Can you not see?? HUH? CAN YOU??' and smiles*
----
.just can't sink so you might as well swim.
The room looms before me,. I can't see inside. it's so dark. My feet soft on the floor, I approach. It's hard to keep moving. My legs feel shaky, weak. I hate it. I hate the feeling welling within me. Was this going to be bad? Considering master Kuja requested me specifically. yeah, it probably was. I shrug, setting my shoulders, my steps firming as I walk the last to or three steps. It's a false confidence, I know, but it's literally all I have.
My hand makes the strangest sound on the doorway, the cloth of the glove making and odd scuffing rasp on the smooth, lacquered wood. It's funny, how you notice things like that when your mind is falling apart. well, that's not quite accurate, but it certainly felt that way. he-he wasn't going to put me to sleep again, was he? No, that's just silly. he just wants to talk to me. Master Kuja. Talking to a black mage. Yeah, this was gonna be bad.
The air is still, close, and very cool, drifting across my face as I lean into the doorway. Feet hesitant, I pause. Kuja hates it when we come in uninvited. but then, I reflect after a moment. there's a whole lot of stuff about us that master Kuja actively hates. It confuses me. He hates us so much. but why? Why?
He's staring at me. I didn't notice him at first. He hadn't moved.
He lay in his chair like a reclining cat, steeped with a supine, passive power. Hands clasped pensively before him, he lay in the chair, his long, smooth perfect legs arched over the arm rest. Unmoving, unspeaking, he lay there, sitting, staring, his eyes musing and glacial.
Throat. so dry. why is it so dry? I swallow, ineffectually. He's not moving. why isn't he moving? Why isn't he saying anything. am I supposed to come in? .My foot slips forward, setting gently on the floor. So far so good. step by step, I slip forward; the flimsy cloth of my shoes do nothing to stop the chill of the stones from soaking up into my feet, stinging and uncomfortable.
step. nothing. step. he's not moving. step. I stop. there's nowhere to go anyway. Standing before him, I. my gaze falls. Why do I always feel this way? We're not his anymore. why do I always feel like such a lesser? My head lowers, hat falling into my eyes. I don't want to meet his vision. I don't want to.
.
Normally he'd say something now. He hasn't. does he want me to talk? Usually, he tells us our speech is a farce and an effrontery to him. but. but what else am I supposed to do?
".Master Kuja.?"
"."
Hm. for once he's not the one to talk. Okay. Restraining the urge to fidget, I stand, hands tight and closed at my side.
"You wanted me to come, didn't you? You asked."
"."
"And now you. want me to talk. I think. I. I'm sorry I feel so awkward-"
"Yes."
"M-huh?"
"Talk. Do go on."
"Um." what am I supposed to say?! Without realizing what I'm even saying, I simply talk, things just sort of slipping out. "I'm sorry master you called me here you probably want me to apologize."
Kuja, unmoving, sat quietly. Fingertips kneading together, he tilted his head, gently resting his feathery platinum locks against the chair behind him. His voice is soft and reassuring, the tone one would use on a dog, or on a very stupid minion. I cringe, just a little.
"I know. Let's play a little game."
"A. game?"
"Yes. a pleasant little game. Okay, here's how you play. pay attention now."
I nod. Throat's dry again. a game?
"The rules are simple. Considering the being I'm explaining it to, that's sort of a requirement. but I digress. Paying attention? Good. the game is this. I want you to tell me why I called you here."
"Why. you called me here?"
"Why I called you here."
"But. But I don't know that."
"Oh I think you do."
.what do I do now? My hands. I don't know what to do with them. why would he ask me that? I don't. but I do. That's the game. he wants me to say it.
".I'm sorry master Kuja."
"No no." He raises a finger, waving it admonishingly. "That's not the game. You need to tell me why you're here."
"I'm here. because I. I."
Why is my face hot? And why does my stomach hurt in such a weird way? I don't like this game. But it's my fault. the whole thing was my fault.
"I stole from you master Kuja. I was going to give it back, but that doesn't make it okay."
Kuja raises a dismissing hand. "A useless trinket. It's returned to its resting place in the storage room. And I am quite sure that after the scare you got, you're never going to do something like THAT again, am I right?"
I nod, eyes wide. "Oh yes master Kuja definitely yes."
".then if that's not the reason. why did I call you here?"
I bite my lip. What do I say? "You called me here. because. I wasn't doing my job right."
"Right?"
"I wasn't doing it at all."
"Do go on."
My gaze drifts to the floor. The soft cloth of my gloves tug gently, caught on the gilt filigree at my waist. I play with it a moment. I hate this. It's my fault I know.. I can't complain. I shouldn't complain. but it makes me feel so. bad. I speak without thinking, letting it all pour out in a rush.
".I wasn't paying attention at all, I was a bad worker because I don't take this job seriously, I'm a bad person and you must hate me. but you hate me anyway so I guess that's kinda a moot point here. But I'm not doing my job right and this IS what I'm supposed to be doing what's wrong with me.?"
"Why aren't you doing well in your job?"
"Because I've been. been doing."
"Been playing around?"
".yes. I have."
This must have been what he had been waiting for. He said nothing. his hand rising to beckon me forward. I came, my legs shaking weakly.
"Kneel."
I do so. His hand reaches for my face.
Hands. cold. Unnaturally cold. his thumbs come to rest over my eyes.. I wince shut. I can't pull away. he'll punish me if I do. I hate it. I don't want to be here anymore. I wanna go home. His hands fix around the sides of my face.
"A child. A young, useless child. but like a child, you must be taught with a firm hand. you are useless to me as you are. Things must be. changed."
Cold. Hot. HOT! I try to pull away, a high keening whine rising in my throat. He holds me easily. My eyes, they burn, burn! Burns. it burns, burns. make it stop master Kuja. make it stop. please. steam rises from my face.
He's there. He's inside me. Inside my mind. It hurts. it hurts so much.. he drifts through me, disinterested, his fingers running over my thoughts, my feelings. he smirks, his face amused. I don't know when he finds what he wants. but suddenly he pauses. And smiles. his hand. winding his fingers somewhere inside, he reaches, grasps. and squeezes..
I fall back, screaming, my hands clamping to my face. Voice choking, I try to breathe. suddenly my lungs don't want to work anymore. My breath, it catches, painful in my chest.
"Just like a child. Well my child, it is done."
"What. what. what did you do to me.?"
"You were distracted. I took that distraction away. Simple as that."
"I don't. u-understand."
"Why am I not surprised." His voice was snide. He rose, stepping beside me. His hand, drifting down, brushes the side of my face, knuckles smooth. His voice is mocking, mocking.
"You are so silly, you know? You claim to use art to express yourself, but you don't realize, being a simple black mage, you HAVE no inner self to express. so it cannot be any great loss. I have taken whatever airs you gave yourself and have shown you the truth. Thank me." It's not a request.
".thanks you master Kuja."
How- how did he- My eyes widen. He had touched me, touched my mind.he had sifted through my most innermost thoughts like someone looking through my tetra master collection.
"You're pathetic excuse for a talent was an inhibition, and so I removed it. Congratulations, you are now a talentless nothing. Do remember to pay a little more attention to your work."
He steps past me as if I'm not there. It hasn't even sunk in yet, what he's done. he. he's. he's taken my. my..
At the door, he turns. His hand lingers on the smooth surface of the door. "And yes, you can get it back. Show me that you can actually do your work like a professional and I will relinquish my hold on your mind. Don't? and. well, I don't think I really need to go on about what your life is going to be like, knowing what you once were.. You artists are so odd.. But I must be going. need to prepare for. guests."
With a swish of his hips he's gone, gone from the room. My hand drags over my face. I feel like I'm asleep.
Maybe I am asleep. Pulling myself up, I brush off my robes, glancing around me. my head hurts. a bit disoriented, I shake my head. THAT only makes it worse. What am I doing here? Maybe I wandered in here and fell asleep. I nod, hesitant. That's probably likely.
yeah. I fell asleep. Some strange dream, that's all it was. The stones around me seem to mock me with their silence as I walk forward, through the doorway. Master Kuja is nowhere to be found. somehow, that makes me feel better. I idly raise my hand as I walk. A warmth flickers, burgeoning between my fingers, gentle blossoms of flame. a cat. I love making little fire cats. Watching them play across my hands, slipping across the floor, little licking balls of flame that seem to slink and purr just like a real kitty. the flames rise, roiling softly, just so. there.. The flames sputter, growing. leaping up.. And back down onto my glove. What th- OW! OWOWOWOWOWOWWW!!!!!
The flame dies with a strange popping sound as I leap and cry, waving my hand like a young kid with a splinter, my eyes watering. Oh god it hurts it hurts hurts hurts. the glove, sooty and dark, steams gently as I bring my aching hand before my face. what had happened? I had it perfectly under control. didn't I?
It had been a dream. Master Kuja couldn't do something like that. he couldn't. do.. something like... that.
My burned hand offers no answers.
-
"56?"
He turns, glancing back behind him, his eyes light as he turns towards me. "Hmm?" The bloodstone in his hand seems to drink in as much light as his face does as he pauses in the hallway. The stairs behind him seem to drift into obscurity. I ignore it, ignore the soft, luxurious carpet under my feet and the awe inspiring, eerie beauty of the statuary before me. Number 56 stared at me for a moment, the rag limp in his hands. The peculiar smell of the polishing oil stung in my throat, but my mind was far from the odors around me.
"123."
His voice pulls me from my musing thoughts. I turn towards him. ".yeah?"
"What's wrong 123? You seem. disturbed."
"Nothing." I've never been good at lying. He's not convinced, his expression concerned. and admonishing. His hand leaves a small smear of the cleansing oil upon my coat as he seizes me. A bit surprised, I blink faintly, leaning back. His hand, tight to my jacket, suddenly gives a fierce tug. I almost stumble, my hand moving to my hat, steadying it upon my head as I look at him in confusion.
"Don't give me that, you're worse than 288 when it comes to talking about your problems- you'd better cough it up you here me or so help me I'll shake you until you can't stand up GET ME?"
I try to nod, my head deciding to interpret the signals a little differently, resulting in an odd little wobble. "Okay 56. okay."
"Now. What's wrong.?" Turning me, he sits me down, gently easing me onto the middle of the walkway. The thick, lush carpeting seems to caress me as I sink down onto it. He stares at me, awaiting my words.. What do I tell him? this was a mistake. I should have just been quiet. I was always doing that. When I got in trouble or got hurt I'd just turn to my nearest brother and collapse on him, crying and blubbering like some stupid little kid. I never considered how THEY felt, how it made them feel bad. I'm so stupid. I need to go. I need to get out of here.
56 eyes me suspiciously as I rise. His hand moves forward, clamping to the soft, violet cloth of my coat. I try to move away. He doesn't relinquish for a second, his eyes burning an odd, almost orange hue. "I knew you'd do that. Always running off to mope in a corner. Not today brother, not today. You can't run from things, they only get bigger. Understand? Tell me what's wrong." It was almost an order. I quailed a little, leaning back.
"I- I'm. sorry."
He sighs softly. Suddenly, his arms are around me, his chest warm as he sinks me to him, pressing me to his shoulder. The comfort seeps through my clothing, through the fog of what had. happened.
"Let go. Tell me.. You know you need to."
He smells like cinnamon and magic. I lean into the warm plushess of his chest, leaning against him. He pulls me into his lap, a little brother. considering I was probably constructed a month or two after him, it's an accurate assumption and he supports my weight easily as I rest my head on his shoulder. How am I going to tell him what had happened? It was my fault. it was all my fault. Master Kuja might be a bad bad person, he might have originally made us and killed a lot of innocent people, but he was. he was totally justified in what he did to me. He violated the sanctity of my mind and buried my soul, and he had every right to do so. I'm surprised he didn't kill me.
"Spill it."
"I can't."
"You need to."
"."
His hand is warm against the back of my neck, gently caressing. and he pauses. His fingers trace a slightly roughened patch, moving gently over the invisible burn.
"What.. What has he done to you?"
"Nothing I didn't deserve."
He actually hits me then. Not too hard. I can't think, I don't think. I push against him, striking him myself. He grunts a little. I am not strong. I don't care! He can't understand! How dare he assume I'm just being hysterical? He can't understand. He can't understand! A strange sound enters my ears; it's my own voice, high, hysterical and hurt, having been speaking for several seconds before I even realized what I was doing. "It's my fault it's my fault! I have no right to say anything I'm a bad bad person I wasn't paying any attention I wasn't doing my job! I was just sitting back expecting payment for no work done I was cheating I was so bad I feel so horrible how can I blame Kuja for anything it was my fault oh 56 HE REACHED INTO MY MIND AND TOOK THE ONLY PART OF ME THAT MATTERED AWAY AND IT"S ALL MY FAULT!!!" My hands lock in a deathgrip behind him as I shiver, gripped in the muscular spasms of my own suppressed sobbing. Weeping is for victims. I no longer count. This was my punishment and I had NO right to lament my own fate.
"Kuja said it wouldn't be permanent. I'm so.. So very surprised, that he was that lenient. He could have fired me, booted me into the desert to try to find my own way home. probably gotten scythed in half in an antlion's jaws.. I wish I hadn't done anything wrong. Then master Kuja would have been wrong and I could have cried and snuggled the pain away."
56 was silent. What was he supposed to say? He was thinking. his fingers gently drifted over my coat. "So we'll work it off."
.? I turn to him. He had begun talking unexpectedly, catching me off guard. "what?"
"It's a punishment right? So we work it off and get it revoked and then everything's okay again.. Right?"
I nod, my face against the soft cloth. Yeah, he's right. 56 might not always be heralded as the wisest of our brothers but sometimes he was an absolute savant. I love him so much. hugging onto him, I lean into his warmth, my eyes closing. "thanks. so much."
"Hey hey what are brothers for? You're my friend 123. you were with me when. 36. s-stopped."
My hands tighten around him. As much as 56 and I were together, as close as we were. it simply pales in comparison to 56 and 36's relationship. They had awakened together on the battlefield. Bonding in the terror and chaos of the moment, they had hidden, living only by their wits, their legs and their connection with each other. they had come to the village together, arm in arm, stumbling, half starved and feverish. They had been soulmates; they knew what each other were thinking. they would finish each other's statements, then laugh that pure laugh of delight. They had been meant for each other.
Then, one day, out in the forest, 36 collapsed. He was making small noises. They had been almost a mile out. 56 had carried him home on his back. Everyone was worried. had he been poisoned? Had he been wounded? But no. he was turning gray and his eyes were fading, and he kept whimpering about needing to go to sleep. 56 had been beside himself with panic. It was almost exactly at midnight when 36 finally. stopped. He was leaning up, talking to 56 and 288, when suddenly. he just. stopped. His words cut off, and his eyes. they were a bright white. They just suddenly changed. from yellow, to orange. From orange to a deep, disturbing brown. and then they were gone. Just like him. He fell over like a broken puppet.. And never moved again. It had taken three days of constant vigilance by a good fifth of the village to keep 56 from taking his own life.
He was never quite the same. Oh yeah, he laughed light and warm, his eyes danced and his hugs and grip was still as tender and warming. but then, he'd remember his friend. it seemed like 36 had taken a little bit of 56 with him to the grave.his eyes would go so pale and he'd just. shut down for a good minute or so. Then, for the rest of the day, he'd be soft spoken and often go off on his own, speaking to himself.
Not to himself, I had come to realize. He was talking to 36. Like he was right there, going on about what he was doing and how beautiful the sun was shining through the leaves. and then it would happen. He'd look around bewildered.. And then start crying. He had learned to hide it well, placing a hand over his face and slipping into the nearest shadow.but I usually saw it. I couldn't help him. I had tried. but he would just go dead, turning internal. I want to help him. I want to help him so much.. but. but I can't. Nothing can. The other half of his soul died.. It hurts me to think of what that must feel like.
He snaps me back into the present reality with a gentle hand grinding against my ribs. "Tell me what happened."
I let out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding, simply resting against him. "Kuja said I was misusing my talent so he locked it up until I got better."
56 pauses, unsure of how to respond to something like that. and simply shrugs. Not coldly, not apathetically.. but lost, unsure of how to respond.
I just lean into him.
-
".Cute, but unproductive."
"Have a few gemstones to polish, I believe you do?"
56 remained sitting, looking up slowly from his reclining position, his brother held in his arms. He blinks slowly, his eyes half lidded and lazy, disinterested as he gazes upon the two jesters that had moved up behind him. His hand, on the back of 123's neck, holds him in place, silently prompting him to remain still. Laboriously, he gains his feet, his eyes a strange color as he regards the two small, gaily hued figures, brother in his arms, hands around his neck.
Zorn's eyes narrow. He was NOT in a good mood today. Casually noting the gaze in the mage's eyes, he silently shakes his head. This big bastard was going to be a problem. Good, he gritted his teeth. He needed a little confrontation.
56 just stared, unmoving, a stone in a turbulent sea. I shivered a little, closing my eyes. I had to protect him it was me they were angry about. his hand stilled me wordlessly, and I quieted, listening, my eyes wide and my face pressed to the soothing warmth. My hands wind in his coat. oh please let this turn out right.
Thorn blinks softly, nervously playing with one of the bells on his hat. His twin was being so combative lately. Shaking his head, he eased back, leaning against the looming statue of some sort of. he didn't even want to think of what. Mater Kuja's taste in sculpture differed greatly from the historical statuary of Alexandria. some of it was downright morbid. his attention was momentarily pulled to the gaze of the mage. and he simply shrugs. Zorn wasn't his problem. he just had to live with him. every second of his life. he groaned, staring at the rather ghastly statue.
56 remains quiet for few brief seconds. His gaze is tired. ".matters of the family." Turning away, he places his back to the two figures, his voice weary.
Zorn's eyes seem almost to burn, alive with hate as he glares daggers at the wide, dusty plum hued back.
I press myself to my brother, my eyes closed. before opening, a soft tinkling sounding before me. I open hesitantly, gazing down.
Zorn, awkward and confused, looks back at his brother in affront, the other's red and white clad arms clasped around his brother's scrawny neck. Not in a strangling or garroting gesture, but more in a silent supplication. He appears to be saying something, something soft and hurried. Zorn pauses. .looking annoyed, disgruntled. but nods, reluctantly. Pulling away, he shoots 56 a look of pure poison. before turning in place and striding purposefully away.
56 shakes his head, turning away from them. before glancing down.
Thorn's hand on his coat, tugging, he looks up into the yellow eyes. His voice is gruff. "Understand matters of the family we do. only to well we do. rough and unfriendly he seems but a side hidden he has. hard to see. Hate him not okay?" Thorn turns to look at his retreating brother. "Need to go now I do! Keep up your work you will here me?" Nodding to himself for having thrown the scold on the end, he hurries off, his arms swinging and his bells setting up a jangling clangor.
56 just blinks, confused.. What. was that about? Not knowing, he bends, gently setting his brother on his feet.
Supporting the B on his broad shoulder, he moves off, whispering small bits of comfort and encouragement to the smaller, frailer mage as they make their way to their resting room for the night.
-
Four down, who knows how many to go. ahh well. Don't worry kiddos. Things will cheer up soon, as soon as the mages get out from under Kuja's not so kind eyes. Maybe a few more chapters. .. but anyway, read and respond, even if it's flames. MSTings. I dun care. I just need it baby! It is the artists sacred payment, is hearing that people read this schlepp at all. *bows* and remember, say it once, say it twice, third time's a charm! Sad Mudokon! Send me a letter, send me a word, send me a deadly virus that strips my com. oh wait, not that last one.
Oh, and look for me in ayenee (yahoo chat's arts and entertainment user rooms for those ignorant mortals) peel yer ganders for the_amber_eyed_artificer .I eagerly await another black mage! Any black mage! A Kuja? One of the Qu or even a tapir person. anything! Or just someone to say hi to. *gasps and dies* .water. rollplay.. Urp.
*bows* My friend got me a vivi plushie! WHEE!!
Disclaimer: okay easy disclaimer. Everything belongs to their respective parties but nothing belongs to me. Not that I don't think it would be cool to transfer to a Qu culinary school of the arts or get a job with the Alexandrian army. hey I'd look hot in one of those little outfits! *laughs at the ridiculous image* 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. those poor saps who always end up ground into the dust by anyone above them. and having large pointy things sent at them at high speeds. well anyway, on with the show! *adjusts the button on her shirt, reading 'Quina is a girl dammit! Can you not see?? HUH? CAN YOU??' and smiles*
----
.just can't sink so you might as well swim.
The room looms before me,. I can't see inside. it's so dark. My feet soft on the floor, I approach. It's hard to keep moving. My legs feel shaky, weak. I hate it. I hate the feeling welling within me. Was this going to be bad? Considering master Kuja requested me specifically. yeah, it probably was. I shrug, setting my shoulders, my steps firming as I walk the last to or three steps. It's a false confidence, I know, but it's literally all I have.
My hand makes the strangest sound on the doorway, the cloth of the glove making and odd scuffing rasp on the smooth, lacquered wood. It's funny, how you notice things like that when your mind is falling apart. well, that's not quite accurate, but it certainly felt that way. he-he wasn't going to put me to sleep again, was he? No, that's just silly. he just wants to talk to me. Master Kuja. Talking to a black mage. Yeah, this was gonna be bad.
The air is still, close, and very cool, drifting across my face as I lean into the doorway. Feet hesitant, I pause. Kuja hates it when we come in uninvited. but then, I reflect after a moment. there's a whole lot of stuff about us that master Kuja actively hates. It confuses me. He hates us so much. but why? Why?
He's staring at me. I didn't notice him at first. He hadn't moved.
He lay in his chair like a reclining cat, steeped with a supine, passive power. Hands clasped pensively before him, he lay in the chair, his long, smooth perfect legs arched over the arm rest. Unmoving, unspeaking, he lay there, sitting, staring, his eyes musing and glacial.
Throat. so dry. why is it so dry? I swallow, ineffectually. He's not moving. why isn't he moving? Why isn't he saying anything. am I supposed to come in? .My foot slips forward, setting gently on the floor. So far so good. step by step, I slip forward; the flimsy cloth of my shoes do nothing to stop the chill of the stones from soaking up into my feet, stinging and uncomfortable.
step. nothing. step. he's not moving. step. I stop. there's nowhere to go anyway. Standing before him, I. my gaze falls. Why do I always feel this way? We're not his anymore. why do I always feel like such a lesser? My head lowers, hat falling into my eyes. I don't want to meet his vision. I don't want to.
.
Normally he'd say something now. He hasn't. does he want me to talk? Usually, he tells us our speech is a farce and an effrontery to him. but. but what else am I supposed to do?
".Master Kuja.?"
"."
Hm. for once he's not the one to talk. Okay. Restraining the urge to fidget, I stand, hands tight and closed at my side.
"You wanted me to come, didn't you? You asked."
"."
"And now you. want me to talk. I think. I. I'm sorry I feel so awkward-"
"Yes."
"M-huh?"
"Talk. Do go on."
"Um." what am I supposed to say?! Without realizing what I'm even saying, I simply talk, things just sort of slipping out. "I'm sorry master you called me here you probably want me to apologize."
Kuja, unmoving, sat quietly. Fingertips kneading together, he tilted his head, gently resting his feathery platinum locks against the chair behind him. His voice is soft and reassuring, the tone one would use on a dog, or on a very stupid minion. I cringe, just a little.
"I know. Let's play a little game."
"A. game?"
"Yes. a pleasant little game. Okay, here's how you play. pay attention now."
I nod. Throat's dry again. a game?
"The rules are simple. Considering the being I'm explaining it to, that's sort of a requirement. but I digress. Paying attention? Good. the game is this. I want you to tell me why I called you here."
"Why. you called me here?"
"Why I called you here."
"But. But I don't know that."
"Oh I think you do."
.what do I do now? My hands. I don't know what to do with them. why would he ask me that? I don't. but I do. That's the game. he wants me to say it.
".I'm sorry master Kuja."
"No no." He raises a finger, waving it admonishingly. "That's not the game. You need to tell me why you're here."
"I'm here. because I. I."
Why is my face hot? And why does my stomach hurt in such a weird way? I don't like this game. But it's my fault. the whole thing was my fault.
"I stole from you master Kuja. I was going to give it back, but that doesn't make it okay."
Kuja raises a dismissing hand. "A useless trinket. It's returned to its resting place in the storage room. And I am quite sure that after the scare you got, you're never going to do something like THAT again, am I right?"
I nod, eyes wide. "Oh yes master Kuja definitely yes."
".then if that's not the reason. why did I call you here?"
I bite my lip. What do I say? "You called me here. because. I wasn't doing my job right."
"Right?"
"I wasn't doing it at all."
"Do go on."
My gaze drifts to the floor. The soft cloth of my gloves tug gently, caught on the gilt filigree at my waist. I play with it a moment. I hate this. It's my fault I know.. I can't complain. I shouldn't complain. but it makes me feel so. bad. I speak without thinking, letting it all pour out in a rush.
".I wasn't paying attention at all, I was a bad worker because I don't take this job seriously, I'm a bad person and you must hate me. but you hate me anyway so I guess that's kinda a moot point here. But I'm not doing my job right and this IS what I'm supposed to be doing what's wrong with me.?"
"Why aren't you doing well in your job?"
"Because I've been. been doing."
"Been playing around?"
".yes. I have."
This must have been what he had been waiting for. He said nothing. his hand rising to beckon me forward. I came, my legs shaking weakly.
"Kneel."
I do so. His hand reaches for my face.
Hands. cold. Unnaturally cold. his thumbs come to rest over my eyes.. I wince shut. I can't pull away. he'll punish me if I do. I hate it. I don't want to be here anymore. I wanna go home. His hands fix around the sides of my face.
"A child. A young, useless child. but like a child, you must be taught with a firm hand. you are useless to me as you are. Things must be. changed."
Cold. Hot. HOT! I try to pull away, a high keening whine rising in my throat. He holds me easily. My eyes, they burn, burn! Burns. it burns, burns. make it stop master Kuja. make it stop. please. steam rises from my face.
He's there. He's inside me. Inside my mind. It hurts. it hurts so much.. he drifts through me, disinterested, his fingers running over my thoughts, my feelings. he smirks, his face amused. I don't know when he finds what he wants. but suddenly he pauses. And smiles. his hand. winding his fingers somewhere inside, he reaches, grasps. and squeezes..
I fall back, screaming, my hands clamping to my face. Voice choking, I try to breathe. suddenly my lungs don't want to work anymore. My breath, it catches, painful in my chest.
"Just like a child. Well my child, it is done."
"What. what. what did you do to me.?"
"You were distracted. I took that distraction away. Simple as that."
"I don't. u-understand."
"Why am I not surprised." His voice was snide. He rose, stepping beside me. His hand, drifting down, brushes the side of my face, knuckles smooth. His voice is mocking, mocking.
"You are so silly, you know? You claim to use art to express yourself, but you don't realize, being a simple black mage, you HAVE no inner self to express. so it cannot be any great loss. I have taken whatever airs you gave yourself and have shown you the truth. Thank me." It's not a request.
".thanks you master Kuja."
How- how did he- My eyes widen. He had touched me, touched my mind.he had sifted through my most innermost thoughts like someone looking through my tetra master collection.
"You're pathetic excuse for a talent was an inhibition, and so I removed it. Congratulations, you are now a talentless nothing. Do remember to pay a little more attention to your work."
He steps past me as if I'm not there. It hasn't even sunk in yet, what he's done. he. he's. he's taken my. my..
At the door, he turns. His hand lingers on the smooth surface of the door. "And yes, you can get it back. Show me that you can actually do your work like a professional and I will relinquish my hold on your mind. Don't? and. well, I don't think I really need to go on about what your life is going to be like, knowing what you once were.. You artists are so odd.. But I must be going. need to prepare for. guests."
With a swish of his hips he's gone, gone from the room. My hand drags over my face. I feel like I'm asleep.
Maybe I am asleep. Pulling myself up, I brush off my robes, glancing around me. my head hurts. a bit disoriented, I shake my head. THAT only makes it worse. What am I doing here? Maybe I wandered in here and fell asleep. I nod, hesitant. That's probably likely.
yeah. I fell asleep. Some strange dream, that's all it was. The stones around me seem to mock me with their silence as I walk forward, through the doorway. Master Kuja is nowhere to be found. somehow, that makes me feel better. I idly raise my hand as I walk. A warmth flickers, burgeoning between my fingers, gentle blossoms of flame. a cat. I love making little fire cats. Watching them play across my hands, slipping across the floor, little licking balls of flame that seem to slink and purr just like a real kitty. the flames rise, roiling softly, just so. there.. The flames sputter, growing. leaping up.. And back down onto my glove. What th- OW! OWOWOWOWOWOWWW!!!!!
The flame dies with a strange popping sound as I leap and cry, waving my hand like a young kid with a splinter, my eyes watering. Oh god it hurts it hurts hurts hurts. the glove, sooty and dark, steams gently as I bring my aching hand before my face. what had happened? I had it perfectly under control. didn't I?
It had been a dream. Master Kuja couldn't do something like that. he couldn't. do.. something like... that.
My burned hand offers no answers.
-
"56?"
He turns, glancing back behind him, his eyes light as he turns towards me. "Hmm?" The bloodstone in his hand seems to drink in as much light as his face does as he pauses in the hallway. The stairs behind him seem to drift into obscurity. I ignore it, ignore the soft, luxurious carpet under my feet and the awe inspiring, eerie beauty of the statuary before me. Number 56 stared at me for a moment, the rag limp in his hands. The peculiar smell of the polishing oil stung in my throat, but my mind was far from the odors around me.
"123."
His voice pulls me from my musing thoughts. I turn towards him. ".yeah?"
"What's wrong 123? You seem. disturbed."
"Nothing." I've never been good at lying. He's not convinced, his expression concerned. and admonishing. His hand leaves a small smear of the cleansing oil upon my coat as he seizes me. A bit surprised, I blink faintly, leaning back. His hand, tight to my jacket, suddenly gives a fierce tug. I almost stumble, my hand moving to my hat, steadying it upon my head as I look at him in confusion.
"Don't give me that, you're worse than 288 when it comes to talking about your problems- you'd better cough it up you here me or so help me I'll shake you until you can't stand up GET ME?"
I try to nod, my head deciding to interpret the signals a little differently, resulting in an odd little wobble. "Okay 56. okay."
"Now. What's wrong.?" Turning me, he sits me down, gently easing me onto the middle of the walkway. The thick, lush carpeting seems to caress me as I sink down onto it. He stares at me, awaiting my words.. What do I tell him? this was a mistake. I should have just been quiet. I was always doing that. When I got in trouble or got hurt I'd just turn to my nearest brother and collapse on him, crying and blubbering like some stupid little kid. I never considered how THEY felt, how it made them feel bad. I'm so stupid. I need to go. I need to get out of here.
56 eyes me suspiciously as I rise. His hand moves forward, clamping to the soft, violet cloth of my coat. I try to move away. He doesn't relinquish for a second, his eyes burning an odd, almost orange hue. "I knew you'd do that. Always running off to mope in a corner. Not today brother, not today. You can't run from things, they only get bigger. Understand? Tell me what's wrong." It was almost an order. I quailed a little, leaning back.
"I- I'm. sorry."
He sighs softly. Suddenly, his arms are around me, his chest warm as he sinks me to him, pressing me to his shoulder. The comfort seeps through my clothing, through the fog of what had. happened.
"Let go. Tell me.. You know you need to."
He smells like cinnamon and magic. I lean into the warm plushess of his chest, leaning against him. He pulls me into his lap, a little brother. considering I was probably constructed a month or two after him, it's an accurate assumption and he supports my weight easily as I rest my head on his shoulder. How am I going to tell him what had happened? It was my fault. it was all my fault. Master Kuja might be a bad bad person, he might have originally made us and killed a lot of innocent people, but he was. he was totally justified in what he did to me. He violated the sanctity of my mind and buried my soul, and he had every right to do so. I'm surprised he didn't kill me.
"Spill it."
"I can't."
"You need to."
"."
His hand is warm against the back of my neck, gently caressing. and he pauses. His fingers trace a slightly roughened patch, moving gently over the invisible burn.
"What.. What has he done to you?"
"Nothing I didn't deserve."
He actually hits me then. Not too hard. I can't think, I don't think. I push against him, striking him myself. He grunts a little. I am not strong. I don't care! He can't understand! How dare he assume I'm just being hysterical? He can't understand. He can't understand! A strange sound enters my ears; it's my own voice, high, hysterical and hurt, having been speaking for several seconds before I even realized what I was doing. "It's my fault it's my fault! I have no right to say anything I'm a bad bad person I wasn't paying any attention I wasn't doing my job! I was just sitting back expecting payment for no work done I was cheating I was so bad I feel so horrible how can I blame Kuja for anything it was my fault oh 56 HE REACHED INTO MY MIND AND TOOK THE ONLY PART OF ME THAT MATTERED AWAY AND IT"S ALL MY FAULT!!!" My hands lock in a deathgrip behind him as I shiver, gripped in the muscular spasms of my own suppressed sobbing. Weeping is for victims. I no longer count. This was my punishment and I had NO right to lament my own fate.
"Kuja said it wouldn't be permanent. I'm so.. So very surprised, that he was that lenient. He could have fired me, booted me into the desert to try to find my own way home. probably gotten scythed in half in an antlion's jaws.. I wish I hadn't done anything wrong. Then master Kuja would have been wrong and I could have cried and snuggled the pain away."
56 was silent. What was he supposed to say? He was thinking. his fingers gently drifted over my coat. "So we'll work it off."
.? I turn to him. He had begun talking unexpectedly, catching me off guard. "what?"
"It's a punishment right? So we work it off and get it revoked and then everything's okay again.. Right?"
I nod, my face against the soft cloth. Yeah, he's right. 56 might not always be heralded as the wisest of our brothers but sometimes he was an absolute savant. I love him so much. hugging onto him, I lean into his warmth, my eyes closing. "thanks. so much."
"Hey hey what are brothers for? You're my friend 123. you were with me when. 36. s-stopped."
My hands tighten around him. As much as 56 and I were together, as close as we were. it simply pales in comparison to 56 and 36's relationship. They had awakened together on the battlefield. Bonding in the terror and chaos of the moment, they had hidden, living only by their wits, their legs and their connection with each other. they had come to the village together, arm in arm, stumbling, half starved and feverish. They had been soulmates; they knew what each other were thinking. they would finish each other's statements, then laugh that pure laugh of delight. They had been meant for each other.
Then, one day, out in the forest, 36 collapsed. He was making small noises. They had been almost a mile out. 56 had carried him home on his back. Everyone was worried. had he been poisoned? Had he been wounded? But no. he was turning gray and his eyes were fading, and he kept whimpering about needing to go to sleep. 56 had been beside himself with panic. It was almost exactly at midnight when 36 finally. stopped. He was leaning up, talking to 56 and 288, when suddenly. he just. stopped. His words cut off, and his eyes. they were a bright white. They just suddenly changed. from yellow, to orange. From orange to a deep, disturbing brown. and then they were gone. Just like him. He fell over like a broken puppet.. And never moved again. It had taken three days of constant vigilance by a good fifth of the village to keep 56 from taking his own life.
He was never quite the same. Oh yeah, he laughed light and warm, his eyes danced and his hugs and grip was still as tender and warming. but then, he'd remember his friend. it seemed like 36 had taken a little bit of 56 with him to the grave.his eyes would go so pale and he'd just. shut down for a good minute or so. Then, for the rest of the day, he'd be soft spoken and often go off on his own, speaking to himself.
Not to himself, I had come to realize. He was talking to 36. Like he was right there, going on about what he was doing and how beautiful the sun was shining through the leaves. and then it would happen. He'd look around bewildered.. And then start crying. He had learned to hide it well, placing a hand over his face and slipping into the nearest shadow.but I usually saw it. I couldn't help him. I had tried. but he would just go dead, turning internal. I want to help him. I want to help him so much.. but. but I can't. Nothing can. The other half of his soul died.. It hurts me to think of what that must feel like.
He snaps me back into the present reality with a gentle hand grinding against my ribs. "Tell me what happened."
I let out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding, simply resting against him. "Kuja said I was misusing my talent so he locked it up until I got better."
56 pauses, unsure of how to respond to something like that. and simply shrugs. Not coldly, not apathetically.. but lost, unsure of how to respond.
I just lean into him.
-
".Cute, but unproductive."
"Have a few gemstones to polish, I believe you do?"
56 remained sitting, looking up slowly from his reclining position, his brother held in his arms. He blinks slowly, his eyes half lidded and lazy, disinterested as he gazes upon the two jesters that had moved up behind him. His hand, on the back of 123's neck, holds him in place, silently prompting him to remain still. Laboriously, he gains his feet, his eyes a strange color as he regards the two small, gaily hued figures, brother in his arms, hands around his neck.
Zorn's eyes narrow. He was NOT in a good mood today. Casually noting the gaze in the mage's eyes, he silently shakes his head. This big bastard was going to be a problem. Good, he gritted his teeth. He needed a little confrontation.
56 just stared, unmoving, a stone in a turbulent sea. I shivered a little, closing my eyes. I had to protect him it was me they were angry about. his hand stilled me wordlessly, and I quieted, listening, my eyes wide and my face pressed to the soothing warmth. My hands wind in his coat. oh please let this turn out right.
Thorn blinks softly, nervously playing with one of the bells on his hat. His twin was being so combative lately. Shaking his head, he eased back, leaning against the looming statue of some sort of. he didn't even want to think of what. Mater Kuja's taste in sculpture differed greatly from the historical statuary of Alexandria. some of it was downright morbid. his attention was momentarily pulled to the gaze of the mage. and he simply shrugs. Zorn wasn't his problem. he just had to live with him. every second of his life. he groaned, staring at the rather ghastly statue.
56 remains quiet for few brief seconds. His gaze is tired. ".matters of the family." Turning away, he places his back to the two figures, his voice weary.
Zorn's eyes seem almost to burn, alive with hate as he glares daggers at the wide, dusty plum hued back.
I press myself to my brother, my eyes closed. before opening, a soft tinkling sounding before me. I open hesitantly, gazing down.
Zorn, awkward and confused, looks back at his brother in affront, the other's red and white clad arms clasped around his brother's scrawny neck. Not in a strangling or garroting gesture, but more in a silent supplication. He appears to be saying something, something soft and hurried. Zorn pauses. .looking annoyed, disgruntled. but nods, reluctantly. Pulling away, he shoots 56 a look of pure poison. before turning in place and striding purposefully away.
56 shakes his head, turning away from them. before glancing down.
Thorn's hand on his coat, tugging, he looks up into the yellow eyes. His voice is gruff. "Understand matters of the family we do. only to well we do. rough and unfriendly he seems but a side hidden he has. hard to see. Hate him not okay?" Thorn turns to look at his retreating brother. "Need to go now I do! Keep up your work you will here me?" Nodding to himself for having thrown the scold on the end, he hurries off, his arms swinging and his bells setting up a jangling clangor.
56 just blinks, confused.. What. was that about? Not knowing, he bends, gently setting his brother on his feet.
Supporting the B on his broad shoulder, he moves off, whispering small bits of comfort and encouragement to the smaller, frailer mage as they make their way to their resting room for the night.
-
Four down, who knows how many to go. ahh well. Don't worry kiddos. Things will cheer up soon, as soon as the mages get out from under Kuja's not so kind eyes. Maybe a few more chapters. .. but anyway, read and respond, even if it's flames. MSTings. I dun care. I just need it baby! It is the artists sacred payment, is hearing that people read this schlepp at all. *bows* and remember, say it once, say it twice, third time's a charm! Sad Mudokon! Send me a letter, send me a word, send me a deadly virus that strips my com. oh wait, not that last one.
Oh, and look for me in ayenee (yahoo chat's arts and entertainment user rooms for those ignorant mortals) peel yer ganders for the_amber_eyed_artificer .I eagerly await another black mage! Any black mage! A Kuja? One of the Qu or even a tapir person. anything! Or just someone to say hi to. *gasps and dies* .water. rollplay.. Urp.
*bows* My friend got me a vivi plushie! WHEE!!
