Never Deal with a Dragon.
Chapter 6
-
Disclaimer: okay easy disclaimer. Everything belongs to their respective parties but nothing belongs to me, although I'd love to get Zorn and Thorn as entertainment for my next birthday party. err, as long as there wasn't any kiddies around. Or alcohol. But I'd say, inviting a lot of adults over to watch those two bicker and call each other vile names would be funny neh? 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 you might be wondering, as you read this, 'why the heck is 193 so angsty and mean? Why the heck is he such a foul mouthed, touchy, overly sensitive reclusive miserable bastard of a mage?' Well, I don't think I could tell you this without boosting the R rating up a bit. I am trying to keep this a bit clean. which should give you a hint to what happened to the poor guy to scar him so badly. but look for a possible side chapter somewhere in the future.
-
"I can't believe we have to just. SIT HERE!!"
The walls shook a bit. Again. I just sighed, leaning back against the wall, my eyes closing as I tried to bury my face in the biological taxonomy chart of the book in my hands, trying to ignore the general tension of the air and the form of my brother throwing his fifth punch into the wall beside my head. Sand sifts down, cascading over my hat and onto my coat and the book in my hands. "HEY!"
44's eyes are tired as he lays a hand gently on 192's upper arm. only to be shrugged off with a snarl.
I look up, surprised. 192 never acts that way around us. what's wrong with him?? "192!?"
He looks up with a scowl, before turning and almost throwing himself against the wall, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. Like a damn angsty teen. he growls something to himself. Confused, I tilt my head.
"Do what with an angel bless?"
He points a finger between my eyes "Never you mind."
and there it is. Never you mind. Never you mind. always, with every question I ask about the things he says, the way he feels, his memories. ask him about what had happened to him before he came to the village. and he'd look at you like you had insulted him. Just get this look in his eye and mutter those old, familiar words. 'never you mind'.. You couldn't press him, and few mages tried. There IS one person he'll talk to. I know now, that he does talk about it. with 288. but 288 says he's sworn to secrecy about it. I can't help laughing slightly. It must really make 192 feel better afterwards. He'll walk around with a smile for an hour after talking with his brother in the hut behind his shop.
He's not smiling now. He's scowling and miserable and gently nursing his bloodied knuckles. and I understood.
"You're worried about master Vivi. Aren't you." It's not a question.
"I was the guard. I was there. I could've done something. I could've protected him. I was there and I left him." Pounding the wall behind him with a clenched fist, he leans heavily, his hat descending as he ducks his head, hiding.
I turn, glancing at my brother out of the corner of my eye. "192. you had another mage thrown at you. what were you gonna do. say no to master Kuja? He told you to leave. You didn't have a choice."
"Staying and dying would have been stupid 192. and wouldn't have helped master Vivi any."
Clenching a fist, 192 growls. "I could've taken him."
I blink, favoring him with a scowling look. "You hit your head didn't you?"
The fist hits the wall, harder this time. "Stupid. I know. I KNOW! But what are we supposed to DO?? Just SIT HERE??"
44's voice is tired. "Just pray to whatever god you believe in and try to get some sleep." And with that, he pulled his hat down, leaned back against the wall, and grew quiet. Food and sleep. 44's answers for everything. I knoew he felt as hurt as any of us, but he always ran away from his problems, gaining comfort from mundane routine and familiarity. maybe that was why he was gaining weight. I stared at him for a few moments, his plush body slumped, face hidden. I should do something. but he wanted to be alone. 192 just growled, hissing things to himself. I blink. I don't know half the words he's using. where did he learn that?
I turn back to my book, my own little refuge. hmm. tracing the page, I turn another, gazing down at the odd little picture spread across the page. Some little lizard creature. wearing a cloak? And carrying a knife. interesting. Letting my eyes pour over the page, I began to read about the odd little fish tailed creature called the tonberry. and pause, about three paragraphs into the information. My eyes widen.
The tonberry, also known as the Pug, green monk and a myriad of other colloquial names, is a deceptively harmless looking yet remarkably dangerous creature. The creature is small, the average head height about mid thigh to a human being, and rather thin. Physically weak and almost cuddly looking, many adventurers completely disregard these creatures as dangers, seeking to finish them off without thought. This, however, more often than not, proves fatal, to even large adventuring groups. A tonberry's main attack is completely unique in the bestiary of Gaia. Every tonberry that has been encountered in the wild is always found wielding a blade, often nothing more than an old kitchen knife. the blade itself seems to have no effect on the attack's effectiveness, however, the main attack itself not coming from the physical wound.
The Grudge Knife operates off of a purely psychic level of damage, an attack that often leaves the mind of a victim shattered beyond repair. The move known only as Everyone's Grudge, acts purely on the level of the victims memories, pulling from the mind every available injustice committed, each life taken and magnifying the residual guilt and other negative feelings to fatal levels, leaving the victim in a state of catatonia. There are no known protective spells, charms or other aides to protect from this psychic attack, only the quick thinking and acting on the part of the adventurer, a thing aided by the habitual sluggishness of the tonberry's movements.
The tonberrie's culture.
The book snaps closed with a sharp crack as I stare into space, my eyes wide and pale, mind feeling oddly numb. I blink, several times, trying to work through the feelings screaming in the back of my brain. A tonberry can access a person's memories to use as an attack. Any memories. All memories. maybe. maybe even the memories within. a mage's mind. Maybe even those locked away behind the veil of our previous life. Behind the screen of mindless, soulless obedience. No mage remembers anything from before. only the sharp stink and harsh cacophony of their combat wreathed birth. I. I couldn't remember what had happened. Why I had been there. My first memory had been seeing one of my brothers pinned to the wall by a lance through the stomach, writhing slightly as I stared in shock. The fear, confusion and panic had saved me, allowing me to be borne to the ground and buried by the falling bodies. I don't know if I would have survived if I had run. I guess I'll never know. I had wondered, so many times about what had happened before, about how long I had been alive before I had woken up.
How many months had I languished within the prison of my own mind. .And how many months I had left.
I set the book home with a shaking hand, banishing the idea from my mind. I had killed, I knew that much. the idea was stupid, dumb, idiotic. I had no idea where to search, much less how to get there. and what would be the good to get there if I did. To see, then to die? I might survive. maybe. Was it worth risking my life over something as. stupid, as that? Of course not. I set the book aside, shoving it to the opposite side of the table and letting out a sharp groan.
I turned to 192, favoring him with a long, appraising look. He didn't notice at first, caught in his own little world. and turned to me. His eyes were tired, empty, his expression caught in his familiar old look of half defensive rebuffment. ".what do you want 123."
"You don't talk much."
"No, I don't. So nice of you to notice."
Sarcasm. Not an encouraging sign. I sigh. ".why?"
"Never you m-" He pauses, arching what would have been an eyebrow if we had hair as my fist finds the trunk beneath me, echoing as I pound the wood.
"Don't. Just, don't."
He gives me an appraising look. "Touchy."
I glare at him briefly. "You're one to talk."
Eyes far away, he leans back, demeanor cold as he crosses his hands over his chest once again. "I have my reasons."
44's eyes open at my annoyed hiss, fingers tight on the handle of the chest below me. I bang my head against the wall, eyes closing in frustration. "And if I asked you why, you'd just blow me off again. Why? Why? And I swear, if you say that blasted never you mind one more time, I'm going to punch you in the stomach, you hear me??"
He looks away. "You are touchy."
"Are you going to answer me?"
"Nope." He almost seemed smug about it. I never before wanted to hit my brother before today. I murmur something without even realizing it, something I had heard 192 himself say.
He turns to me with a grunt of disgust. "Don't say that if you don't know what you're saying. You just asked for something very intricate and painful, something you'd never want to happen to you." His gaze was far away, and I tilted my head, confused at the note in his voice. Almost one of pain. He scratches at his collarbone again, gloved fingers brushing at the right side of his clavicle with a distracted touch. I've seen him do it a lot. In the same place every time, as one would an old, healed over wound."Just leave me alone."
I sigh, losing my resolve. So much had happened recently. I felt so drained. I silently whisper an apology to 192, sinking back against the wall, letting my eyelids flutter a little as I sat, staring at a small spot of dust on the floor.
Nothing we can do. Nothing. Nothing. So helpless. So damn helpless. just sitting here. with master Vivi locked in that miserable little room. with Kuja. Please, please let him be okay. I feel like such a rat. Like such a coward. Just sitting here, sitting in this tiny little storage room. I should be doing something. I should be helping master Vivi. There's nothing I can do. But I should be doing something.
I should have stayed home. I should have stayed home and calmly awaited my death like 288. He was always more then we could ever be. I should be there with him. I glance over, at 192. There was something between 192 and 288. I could feel it. it was. confusing, but it was there. how much must it be hurting 192 to be separated.
I speak without really realizing it. "You know 192. if master Kuja DOES make our lives longer."
He glances up towards me. ".wh- what?"
I shrug. "If he does make our lives longer. what are you going to do about 288? I mean, he's not here, not part of this. he's .he's not going to-"
"Shut up." His voice comes out a hiss, his eyes frigid as he fixes upon me.
"What, it's tr-"
Hands found my collar, fixed tight. His face was almost touching mine, his grip harsh as he snapped me forward, black teeth within a black mouth fixed in a snarl. "Shut up. SHUT UP JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!" My head hits the wall as he releases me, throwing me back and sinking to the floor, against the wall, head in his arms and silent.
"That hurt 192."
His words are soft. "Sorry."
I shake my head, silently wondering at what had caused me to say that. Say that to him. He cared about 288. why had I said that to him? Was I that petty? He loved 288. We all love each other, but it almost seemed. different, with them. And here I was, reminding him that when we did get our lives lengthened to a decent time, he'd have to sit there and watch his friend 288 die.
It would be hard enough for me. For any of us. that would be like making 56 watch 36 die all over again.
And I had sat there and threw that at him. Just because I was annoyed that he was being closed with me. Good job 123. oh yeah, really empathetic. Really considerate there.
I let a breath out, feeling miserable. "I'm so sorry 192. We'll save 288. We'll think of something."
"I thought I told you to shut up." The words should have stung, but the voice issuing them was so full, so choked with agony. he stood there, head in his hands, looking for all the world like he was trying to peel his own face off, his fingers were so stiff. He lets out a long breath, only failing at the end to prevent it from becoming a wail. "He told me to go. He told me to go he told me to go with master Kuja. but he wouldn't come. He wouldn't come and he wouldn't let me stay with him. He pushed me away and made me come to this hellhole and now I'm going to live and he's going to die in my arms and I can't do this. why am I here? Why the hell am I even here, I can't live beyond him. I c-can't even go on without him! What good was this, was any of this anyway? "You know you need to go." What the HELL is THAT supposed to mean???" Choking back a sob, he covers his face as best he can, hand uncharacteristically clumsy for the normally adept master synther, scrubbing at wet eyes with the heel of his right hand.
My throat felt like it was closing. I swallow, trying to form words past the lump. "192."
"Go to sleep.. Please." His voice was very quiet. And very miserable.
I nod, forcing my breath to slow, my eyes to close, and the pain within to go away. even though I knew it wasn't going to. Not now. not soon. maybe not ever.
More exhausted than I could ever remember being, I fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. Hours pass, alarms sound, and I simply don't care.
-
I awoke to screaming. Very light, soft, more a whimper than a scream. I don't know how I ended up on the floor. I must've slipped down while I was asleep. and 192 was beside me. He wasn't touching me all that much, just his face, pressed into the side of my neck, just under my chin. and he was talking. Still asleep and talking to me. Not to me, I realize. to something, someone else.
"please. please no more. Please don't d-don't. not like that. it h-hurts like that."
I blink, surprised. My hand trembles a little as I reach for him,, easing fingers to my brother's shoulder, gently shaking him awake. At the touch, he suddenly jumps, his eyes going wide and white as he howls."NO PLEASE! I WASN'T RESISTING- I SWEAR I WASN'T- huh?" He looks at me with wide, empty eyes, still pale and addled with sleep. shaking hands rise to my face, gently cupping one cheek. ".288? I've missed you." He leans closer. what is he about to- I freeze, warmth briefly touching my cheek, moving closer to my mo-.
I pull back in surprise, accidentally kneeing him in the stomach as I move, a little more than a bit uncomfortable. I cough. "192. 192? Wake up, 192, wake up."
He blinks awake, his eyes going pale as he leans away from me, his face suddenly turning a bright bluish purple as he hastily scrambles to his feet, back to me as he moves away. ".sorry." I nod dumbly, one hand going to my cheek as I settle against the wall, resuming my seat.
And nearly fall over in what seriously feels like a heart attack as the door suddenly slammed open. Kuja's jovial face pushes into the room, his face caught in a harsh, triumphant smile. "And so it begins! Come out of there, you pathetic little wretches, I have need of you!" I nod, gulping, and shake 44 awake. He bats at me sleepily, turning onto his shoulder against the wall, still leaning, and slips further asleep. Kuja grunts slightly, bending into the room long enough to pick up a small, ornate scepter, and lobbing it at 44's back. The black mage jumps, almost falling as he whips around, eyes wide.
"Come on come on! I don't have all day! We have plans to get into action, beautiful, devious plans. Oh yes!" Almost skipping, the pale being slips from the doorway, moving into the hall, rousing mages as he went. I glance in as a rather haggard looking Zorn ducks into the room, a sheet of paper in his hand. He reaches me, his hand snapping out to fix around my arm, tugging my sleeve up to glance at the large, blocky tattoo on my wrist. "123. Rear Hilda Garde deck, left side. Standing orders." Businesslike, he moves on, to a very irate looking 192. The other B gives him a venomous glance. He's going to pull away. He's going to make a scene. Oh please don't let him- "He's 192." I state, jumping from my seat and moving over to my scowling faced brother. He shoots me a 'I-don't-need-your-help' look. I ignore him, staring at Zorn imploringly. He merely favors us with a disgusted look before flipping up 44's sleeve. 44 gives us a helpless look, arm outstretched as he's assigned to the boiler room. I wince. Poor guy.
"You have your assignments. Go. Now." With those words he slips out, irately pouring over the sheet before him. He grumbles softly to himself as he joins up with his red hued other, Thorn patting him comfortingly on the back as the two of them move off, down the hallway.
44, 192 and I pour out of the room, 192 grumbling under his breath as he moves beside me, his eyes narrow and his fists tight as he stalks down the hall. Another mage joins us, number 69, looking nervous and edgy, tugging on his hat. His eyes are a bit wild as he looks at me and 44. "Wh-what do you think is happening?" I can only shrug.
44 throws up a hand. *I don't know. who knows with master Kuja. Probably has something to do with master Vivi and his friends."
We walk in silence for a moment, not knowing what to say. We need to hurry. master Kuja looked like he was in a real hurry. 69 looked at me nervously. "Where are we going?"
I can only shrug. "How should I know? That's something Zorn chose not to share with me. and I wasn't inclined to pry."
192 snorts, an odd sound in a mage. He favors 69 with a scathing look. "Just shut up and go along with it. Kuja's not going to spill it, so stop worrying about it. Just go along and for-" I blink. Another one of 192's weird words. 44 blushes. "-sake, just shut up."
69 glares. I lay a hand on his arm, shaking my head, voice apologetic. "He's. touchy. Don't be mad."
I did not expect 192's attitude at all. He actually struck the other mage. Just a little but. what's wrong with him? "HE shouldn't be mad?? He's being an annoying jerk., I mean-" 44's hand clamps over his arm, his eyes dangerous. 192 matches him, stare for stare. "You're touching me. I don't like it. Want me to stop? .What you gonna do about it, dough boy?"
"Insults now?" I growl in disgust. "192- I have no idea why you're so touchy but cut it out. I know things are edgy right now but dammit, just calm down okay? Please?"
Grumping, he nods. Walking on, we make our way to the ship.
-
Sand is so much more HELLISH when you're stuck on the deck of a ship. I find this out, much to my disgust, standing on the deck, hand clamped in a deathgrip to my hat as it whips and tugs, trying to escape me with every ounce of it's clothy being. Every mage has their back to the wind, ever since 32 had collapsed howling after a particularly dramatic spray of airborne sand had nearly taken his eyes out of his head. He was below deck, rubbing a potion into his face and flushing the sand from his abused vision. I silently shake my head, feeling another spray of sand flow over my shoulders, scattering to the deck. Suddenly, being as big and heavy as 44 was didn't seem too bad, considering he would most likely be the only one who wasn't worried at being blown from the deck. Thankfully, only A's and C's were assigned anywhere that didn't involve a railing, so we, the B's, the slighter middle children as it were, weren't in any danger of being blown into the desert to die. I hang on, my hand aching, feeling the wind try again to lift me from the deck and cast me away into space. How can Kuja look so calm, so composed, just standing there, leaning against the railing and staring into the sun blinding distance? He looks so calm, so composed. So in charge. Shivering, I almost turn away, then remember that the only away is a face full of terminal velocity sand. I hate sand. I hate sand I hate sand I hate sand.
I glance at the sun. How long had I been asleep? It seems hours and hours later. of course, being inside Kuja's residence made it impossible to tell the time. but it felt like so much later. Had I been that tired? Considering past events? Could very well be. I snap myself from my current musings in time to duck a brush of sand from where it was trying to blow across my face, and hiss in annoyance, feeling skin chafe and clothes get that much more itchy. I hate sand.
What are we doing here? Not the great, celestial question humans seem to always be asking themselves, but a bit more utilitarian. I don't even know where we're going, much less the reasons. But, being a black mage, it's not MY position to question. Sighing, I lean against the railing, waiting out the airborne hell.
I turn. 69 is staring out into the distance. Into the wind. I blink, glance back at master Kuja. Not looking. Shivering, I push out, along the rail. Slide, slide. And grab him. My voice is manic. "What are you DOING? You're going to blind yourself!"
And then I realize he seems to be panicking. "I set the trap. I almost killed them. I almost killed them all what the hell is wrong with me? I'm being bad I'm doing wrong what the h-hell is wrong with me."
I embrace him briefly, ruffling his hat with one hand, almost losing my own. "You did as ordered."
"Yeah, but now that Eiko kid is in trouble. oh 123. what's going to happen to her? She's just a little girl."
I freeze, hand on my hat, eyes wide. "-what?"
69's voice quavers. "We took her. She's here. On the ship. and Kuja's going to do horrible things to her. And it's all our fault."
I take him in my arms, utterly lost for words. What do you say to something like that? What the hell are you supposed to say to something like that.
-
Far below deck, a plush figure, slightly larger than most type A's sits beside a small, unconscious bundle, his hands gently rubbing her shoulder, his warm gold eyes guilty and sad. Brushing the purple hair from around her horn, he whispers small, near meaningless reassurances, voice low and hopeless.
-
Esto Gaza. A massive cavern.. And a lot of fluffy horrible white snow that sucks the warmth from the feet and crusts on the souls of your shoes and chokes your footsteps and seems to pull the very warmth from your soul as you are left to trudge between the walls of your brothers. Or at least it was for me. for others, I'm sure their impression would be a bit different.
The temple loomed before us. Master Kuja enters. and so do we. What else could we do?
Smoke. Great. A hundred candles or more, each dribbling wax and smoking with the bitter stink of sizzling tallow. No coughing Kuja had said, and I could hear my brothers before and after me struggling to comply. Struggling as I did. The light was pale, orange and flickering as we entered, thankful, even with the smoke and stink of the candles, simply thankful to be out of the snow. I shoot a furtive glance as we walk, kicking snow from my shoes in what I hope is a sneaky manner. Master Kuja wants us to be in synchronization when we walk. And we do, well, almost. I glance behind me as I walk.
The priest utters a stuttering protest. I would have answered him, apologized for the intrusion. For the puddles on the floor. But the master had ordered us silent. I bite my lip as I walk by, avoiding the man's angry, affronted glare. and look to the line, near the back. a little before the slowly walking figures of Zorn and Thorn, both uncharacteristically sober and quiet in the gloom, there walks a mage a little bigger than most.
44 is there. The tiny bundle in his big, gentle arms doesn't stir, doesn't move. she's so still. The shiver takes me before I can stop it, partially falling out of step. Thankfully master Kuja misses it. Thankfully. He seems too elated to notice very much of anything. I walk, my mind elsewhere and my soul miserable in my chest. This is wrong. Whatever happens this is wrong. This is wrong this is wrong this is. nothing to do about it but this is WRONG dammit.
I wish I wasn't such a pitiful, pathetic coward. A wishful thought, I know, but sometimes. it would be nice. I'd die, of course, but it would be nice.
I shake my head as the darkness descends, the gloomy cavern air thick and gray, stifling in my lungs as I walk onwards tirelessly, my mind feeling dead within my head, eyes empty and unseeing. I don't notice the gray pebbles shifting under my feet, the gray coating of dust that slowly begins to settle over us like the laments of the damned, coating me. coating all of us. showing us our sins in small, grainy fragments of the dying mountains, the memories of foolish adventurers long since reduced to this choking, poisonous dust. I cough softly, trying to get the taste of age and death from out of my mouth, running my dry, scratchy tongue over my lips in a hopeless attempt to bring some moisture to my tomb of a mouth at the moment. 192, directly ahead of me, curses softly under his breath. It's seems almost a mantra to him, hearing him spewing horrid words and phrases under his breath with every step. He's not even angry, just talking softly to himself, bestowing curses almost amiably upon every rock borne stumble, each toe jarred within his shoe, each mage he jostles in unintentional misstep. Even bestowing them on himself. I realize, as I walk, that most seem directed at him. he's berating himself again. I want to talk. to help him. To try to help him. Glancing at him from the corner of my eye, I let my eyes drift over him. he seems so gaunt. Does he eat? I don't know. I don't know. I -I should be watching him. with 288 gone. I should be watching him. but I haven't.
Scowling to myself, I curse softly, sighing. I've been drifting away from my brothers. Most of us have been staying in the cells, spending our free time eating within our own little group. talking with each other; easing the pain by sharing our fears, uncertainties with our brothers, letting the agony go just a little. sleeping against each other's shoulder, curled around a hip, leaning into the warmth. Comfort. Security. and where have I been?
Sitting in a cold, ill lit storage room, reading books the master Kuja would mindwipe me if he knew I was handling. Physics, biology, anatomy, chemistry. geology, geography, aerodynamics, history. psychology. Even philosophy. I would sit and read, pouring over the books in the way only a mage can read. a page at a single glance, perfectly understood and filed away. I knew now. I knew about people and things, animals, the world beneath my feet and the air around my face. The air within my body. I understood. but with understanding. came loneliness. I. I had left them.
I had begun avoiding them. Not totally, by any means. But I felt myself. drifting. Drifting away. and I didn't know why. I loved my brothers. so very much. so much it hurt. Had I hurt them? Had they ached at my absence? .Or did it not matter?
56. He had pulled me out of the darkness. he had held me to him, pressing me to his warm, soft shoulder. taking the pain away. And I realized now stupid. how very silly I had been. It took a bit more than a simple absence to remove the bond we held. And I cried. Because it had felt so good to know that I was being nothing more than a silly, foolish little boy. and that there was still a spot for me around the tetra master board. A shoulder for sleeping on. A lap for night terrors. A hand for kindness. eyes for compassion. arms for understanding. and words for release. I hadn't lost myself. they had found me. And pulled me back.
The dirt thick and soft beneath my sandals, I laugh, even now, at my own foolishness. Stupid boy. would you be so fickle with your friendships? .I shake my head, feeling almost ashamed at my own assumptions. to think so very little of my own brother's compassion.
Suddenly, soft footsteps, grinding on dirt shift, alter. echoing with a hollow, dull reverberation. Kuja slips into the structure, trying to sight the way to whatever ineffable goal he seeks. I see the mage at the front of the line, 32, hesitate. He tests the floor. nervousness written across his tight, drawn features. I can't hear what master Kuja says at that moment but it certainly causes a mad jumping rush by the scared mage, the next few not even questioning the floor as they spill in.
"Fuck if I'm going in there."
I glance up. 192's eyes are slits, disgust and defiance etched into his tight, drawn face. He begins to slow his steps. I raise my hand, fingers shaking. "192." My hand settles on his shoulder.
I never felt a mage's muscles stiffen so suddenly, nor so much. His voice emerges as a low, very quiet hiss. "Get. Your. Hand. Off. Me."
".19-"
"Now."
I remove it. He doesn't even look back, stomping across the ancient floorboards, nothing between him and a good three hundred foot drop but some weathered, half rotted wood. Face ashen, I follow, shaken.
His voice is a warbling growl, the half garbled words flung with small drops of saliva from between clenched teeth. I can't even begin to comprehend what he's saying. do what with a length of piano wire? That sounds painful.
"-skin it slowly with a paring knife and grind in the mineral salts DAMN this I can't BELIEVE this what the hell am I DOING he-"
The wall, so calm and serene, so wall-like and solid. suddenly loses all of it's solidity and much of it's wall-likeness in one rather violent instant. I wince, ducking back in shock as 192 screams like a stabbed child as the wall beside him suddenly erupts into a spray of stone bits and splinters. Covered in dust, he stands there, his eyes wide and very, very pale. Hunched, he stands, legs shaking and fingers twitching helplessly, face blank with shock. He's just standing there. why-
The dust choked light hides a body, a massive, gleaming red body, the dust ruffled feathers shifting with every tense shifting movement. The jaws of the massive red dragon gape wide, small lines of acidic saliva drooling down each and every curve, needlelike fang within the wet mouth, gaping in the horrid dragon's face like an open wound. It makes no sound as the long, gleaming neck coils to strike.
192's voice is very soft as he stands, hunched and miserable like a lost child, staring up into the murderous, tooth lined pit aimed at his face. "288. help me please. I'm scared."
The tears start then ".288?"
In a flash of murderous red scales, the jaws descend with a howl straight out of hell.
to be continued.
-
yeah, I know. What a rat right? *silently apologizes to any Burmecians who might have been offended by this comment.* Wonder what's going to happen? Is 192 about to get his intestines spilled to the floor in a wash of blood and screaming? Is the entire group about to get blitzed? Is the author really a girl, and not a rather talented Bonobo with a playstation and too much free time? Ha! Wait to find out, why don'cha! Next chapter Zorn and Thorn die! Waa! @_@ *sniffle* It's going to be hard watching those two be slaughtered. but the plot must go on. *wipes nose on Kuja's skirt* we salute you, Zorn and Thorn.
*is backhanded into low entery orbit by the irate Kuja, ranma ½ style* eeeeeee! See you in chapter 7!
Chapter 6
-
Disclaimer: okay easy disclaimer. Everything belongs to their respective parties but nothing belongs to me, although I'd love to get Zorn and Thorn as entertainment for my next birthday party. err, as long as there wasn't any kiddies around. Or alcohol. But I'd say, inviting a lot of adults over to watch those two bicker and call each other vile names would be funny neh? 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 you might be wondering, as you read this, 'why the heck is 193 so angsty and mean? Why the heck is he such a foul mouthed, touchy, overly sensitive reclusive miserable bastard of a mage?' Well, I don't think I could tell you this without boosting the R rating up a bit. I am trying to keep this a bit clean. which should give you a hint to what happened to the poor guy to scar him so badly. but look for a possible side chapter somewhere in the future.
-
"I can't believe we have to just. SIT HERE!!"
The walls shook a bit. Again. I just sighed, leaning back against the wall, my eyes closing as I tried to bury my face in the biological taxonomy chart of the book in my hands, trying to ignore the general tension of the air and the form of my brother throwing his fifth punch into the wall beside my head. Sand sifts down, cascading over my hat and onto my coat and the book in my hands. "HEY!"
44's eyes are tired as he lays a hand gently on 192's upper arm. only to be shrugged off with a snarl.
I look up, surprised. 192 never acts that way around us. what's wrong with him?? "192!?"
He looks up with a scowl, before turning and almost throwing himself against the wall, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. Like a damn angsty teen. he growls something to himself. Confused, I tilt my head.
"Do what with an angel bless?"
He points a finger between my eyes "Never you mind."
and there it is. Never you mind. Never you mind. always, with every question I ask about the things he says, the way he feels, his memories. ask him about what had happened to him before he came to the village. and he'd look at you like you had insulted him. Just get this look in his eye and mutter those old, familiar words. 'never you mind'.. You couldn't press him, and few mages tried. There IS one person he'll talk to. I know now, that he does talk about it. with 288. but 288 says he's sworn to secrecy about it. I can't help laughing slightly. It must really make 192 feel better afterwards. He'll walk around with a smile for an hour after talking with his brother in the hut behind his shop.
He's not smiling now. He's scowling and miserable and gently nursing his bloodied knuckles. and I understood.
"You're worried about master Vivi. Aren't you." It's not a question.
"I was the guard. I was there. I could've done something. I could've protected him. I was there and I left him." Pounding the wall behind him with a clenched fist, he leans heavily, his hat descending as he ducks his head, hiding.
I turn, glancing at my brother out of the corner of my eye. "192. you had another mage thrown at you. what were you gonna do. say no to master Kuja? He told you to leave. You didn't have a choice."
"Staying and dying would have been stupid 192. and wouldn't have helped master Vivi any."
Clenching a fist, 192 growls. "I could've taken him."
I blink, favoring him with a scowling look. "You hit your head didn't you?"
The fist hits the wall, harder this time. "Stupid. I know. I KNOW! But what are we supposed to DO?? Just SIT HERE??"
44's voice is tired. "Just pray to whatever god you believe in and try to get some sleep." And with that, he pulled his hat down, leaned back against the wall, and grew quiet. Food and sleep. 44's answers for everything. I knoew he felt as hurt as any of us, but he always ran away from his problems, gaining comfort from mundane routine and familiarity. maybe that was why he was gaining weight. I stared at him for a few moments, his plush body slumped, face hidden. I should do something. but he wanted to be alone. 192 just growled, hissing things to himself. I blink. I don't know half the words he's using. where did he learn that?
I turn back to my book, my own little refuge. hmm. tracing the page, I turn another, gazing down at the odd little picture spread across the page. Some little lizard creature. wearing a cloak? And carrying a knife. interesting. Letting my eyes pour over the page, I began to read about the odd little fish tailed creature called the tonberry. and pause, about three paragraphs into the information. My eyes widen.
The tonberry, also known as the Pug, green monk and a myriad of other colloquial names, is a deceptively harmless looking yet remarkably dangerous creature. The creature is small, the average head height about mid thigh to a human being, and rather thin. Physically weak and almost cuddly looking, many adventurers completely disregard these creatures as dangers, seeking to finish them off without thought. This, however, more often than not, proves fatal, to even large adventuring groups. A tonberry's main attack is completely unique in the bestiary of Gaia. Every tonberry that has been encountered in the wild is always found wielding a blade, often nothing more than an old kitchen knife. the blade itself seems to have no effect on the attack's effectiveness, however, the main attack itself not coming from the physical wound.
The Grudge Knife operates off of a purely psychic level of damage, an attack that often leaves the mind of a victim shattered beyond repair. The move known only as Everyone's Grudge, acts purely on the level of the victims memories, pulling from the mind every available injustice committed, each life taken and magnifying the residual guilt and other negative feelings to fatal levels, leaving the victim in a state of catatonia. There are no known protective spells, charms or other aides to protect from this psychic attack, only the quick thinking and acting on the part of the adventurer, a thing aided by the habitual sluggishness of the tonberry's movements.
The tonberrie's culture.
The book snaps closed with a sharp crack as I stare into space, my eyes wide and pale, mind feeling oddly numb. I blink, several times, trying to work through the feelings screaming in the back of my brain. A tonberry can access a person's memories to use as an attack. Any memories. All memories. maybe. maybe even the memories within. a mage's mind. Maybe even those locked away behind the veil of our previous life. Behind the screen of mindless, soulless obedience. No mage remembers anything from before. only the sharp stink and harsh cacophony of their combat wreathed birth. I. I couldn't remember what had happened. Why I had been there. My first memory had been seeing one of my brothers pinned to the wall by a lance through the stomach, writhing slightly as I stared in shock. The fear, confusion and panic had saved me, allowing me to be borne to the ground and buried by the falling bodies. I don't know if I would have survived if I had run. I guess I'll never know. I had wondered, so many times about what had happened before, about how long I had been alive before I had woken up.
How many months had I languished within the prison of my own mind. .And how many months I had left.
I set the book home with a shaking hand, banishing the idea from my mind. I had killed, I knew that much. the idea was stupid, dumb, idiotic. I had no idea where to search, much less how to get there. and what would be the good to get there if I did. To see, then to die? I might survive. maybe. Was it worth risking my life over something as. stupid, as that? Of course not. I set the book aside, shoving it to the opposite side of the table and letting out a sharp groan.
I turned to 192, favoring him with a long, appraising look. He didn't notice at first, caught in his own little world. and turned to me. His eyes were tired, empty, his expression caught in his familiar old look of half defensive rebuffment. ".what do you want 123."
"You don't talk much."
"No, I don't. So nice of you to notice."
Sarcasm. Not an encouraging sign. I sigh. ".why?"
"Never you m-" He pauses, arching what would have been an eyebrow if we had hair as my fist finds the trunk beneath me, echoing as I pound the wood.
"Don't. Just, don't."
He gives me an appraising look. "Touchy."
I glare at him briefly. "You're one to talk."
Eyes far away, he leans back, demeanor cold as he crosses his hands over his chest once again. "I have my reasons."
44's eyes open at my annoyed hiss, fingers tight on the handle of the chest below me. I bang my head against the wall, eyes closing in frustration. "And if I asked you why, you'd just blow me off again. Why? Why? And I swear, if you say that blasted never you mind one more time, I'm going to punch you in the stomach, you hear me??"
He looks away. "You are touchy."
"Are you going to answer me?"
"Nope." He almost seemed smug about it. I never before wanted to hit my brother before today. I murmur something without even realizing it, something I had heard 192 himself say.
He turns to me with a grunt of disgust. "Don't say that if you don't know what you're saying. You just asked for something very intricate and painful, something you'd never want to happen to you." His gaze was far away, and I tilted my head, confused at the note in his voice. Almost one of pain. He scratches at his collarbone again, gloved fingers brushing at the right side of his clavicle with a distracted touch. I've seen him do it a lot. In the same place every time, as one would an old, healed over wound."Just leave me alone."
I sigh, losing my resolve. So much had happened recently. I felt so drained. I silently whisper an apology to 192, sinking back against the wall, letting my eyelids flutter a little as I sat, staring at a small spot of dust on the floor.
Nothing we can do. Nothing. Nothing. So helpless. So damn helpless. just sitting here. with master Vivi locked in that miserable little room. with Kuja. Please, please let him be okay. I feel like such a rat. Like such a coward. Just sitting here, sitting in this tiny little storage room. I should be doing something. I should be helping master Vivi. There's nothing I can do. But I should be doing something.
I should have stayed home. I should have stayed home and calmly awaited my death like 288. He was always more then we could ever be. I should be there with him. I glance over, at 192. There was something between 192 and 288. I could feel it. it was. confusing, but it was there. how much must it be hurting 192 to be separated.
I speak without really realizing it. "You know 192. if master Kuja DOES make our lives longer."
He glances up towards me. ".wh- what?"
I shrug. "If he does make our lives longer. what are you going to do about 288? I mean, he's not here, not part of this. he's .he's not going to-"
"Shut up." His voice comes out a hiss, his eyes frigid as he fixes upon me.
"What, it's tr-"
Hands found my collar, fixed tight. His face was almost touching mine, his grip harsh as he snapped me forward, black teeth within a black mouth fixed in a snarl. "Shut up. SHUT UP JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!" My head hits the wall as he releases me, throwing me back and sinking to the floor, against the wall, head in his arms and silent.
"That hurt 192."
His words are soft. "Sorry."
I shake my head, silently wondering at what had caused me to say that. Say that to him. He cared about 288. why had I said that to him? Was I that petty? He loved 288. We all love each other, but it almost seemed. different, with them. And here I was, reminding him that when we did get our lives lengthened to a decent time, he'd have to sit there and watch his friend 288 die.
It would be hard enough for me. For any of us. that would be like making 56 watch 36 die all over again.
And I had sat there and threw that at him. Just because I was annoyed that he was being closed with me. Good job 123. oh yeah, really empathetic. Really considerate there.
I let a breath out, feeling miserable. "I'm so sorry 192. We'll save 288. We'll think of something."
"I thought I told you to shut up." The words should have stung, but the voice issuing them was so full, so choked with agony. he stood there, head in his hands, looking for all the world like he was trying to peel his own face off, his fingers were so stiff. He lets out a long breath, only failing at the end to prevent it from becoming a wail. "He told me to go. He told me to go he told me to go with master Kuja. but he wouldn't come. He wouldn't come and he wouldn't let me stay with him. He pushed me away and made me come to this hellhole and now I'm going to live and he's going to die in my arms and I can't do this. why am I here? Why the hell am I even here, I can't live beyond him. I c-can't even go on without him! What good was this, was any of this anyway? "You know you need to go." What the HELL is THAT supposed to mean???" Choking back a sob, he covers his face as best he can, hand uncharacteristically clumsy for the normally adept master synther, scrubbing at wet eyes with the heel of his right hand.
My throat felt like it was closing. I swallow, trying to form words past the lump. "192."
"Go to sleep.. Please." His voice was very quiet. And very miserable.
I nod, forcing my breath to slow, my eyes to close, and the pain within to go away. even though I knew it wasn't going to. Not now. not soon. maybe not ever.
More exhausted than I could ever remember being, I fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. Hours pass, alarms sound, and I simply don't care.
-
I awoke to screaming. Very light, soft, more a whimper than a scream. I don't know how I ended up on the floor. I must've slipped down while I was asleep. and 192 was beside me. He wasn't touching me all that much, just his face, pressed into the side of my neck, just under my chin. and he was talking. Still asleep and talking to me. Not to me, I realize. to something, someone else.
"please. please no more. Please don't d-don't. not like that. it h-hurts like that."
I blink, surprised. My hand trembles a little as I reach for him,, easing fingers to my brother's shoulder, gently shaking him awake. At the touch, he suddenly jumps, his eyes going wide and white as he howls."NO PLEASE! I WASN'T RESISTING- I SWEAR I WASN'T- huh?" He looks at me with wide, empty eyes, still pale and addled with sleep. shaking hands rise to my face, gently cupping one cheek. ".288? I've missed you." He leans closer. what is he about to- I freeze, warmth briefly touching my cheek, moving closer to my mo-.
I pull back in surprise, accidentally kneeing him in the stomach as I move, a little more than a bit uncomfortable. I cough. "192. 192? Wake up, 192, wake up."
He blinks awake, his eyes going pale as he leans away from me, his face suddenly turning a bright bluish purple as he hastily scrambles to his feet, back to me as he moves away. ".sorry." I nod dumbly, one hand going to my cheek as I settle against the wall, resuming my seat.
And nearly fall over in what seriously feels like a heart attack as the door suddenly slammed open. Kuja's jovial face pushes into the room, his face caught in a harsh, triumphant smile. "And so it begins! Come out of there, you pathetic little wretches, I have need of you!" I nod, gulping, and shake 44 awake. He bats at me sleepily, turning onto his shoulder against the wall, still leaning, and slips further asleep. Kuja grunts slightly, bending into the room long enough to pick up a small, ornate scepter, and lobbing it at 44's back. The black mage jumps, almost falling as he whips around, eyes wide.
"Come on come on! I don't have all day! We have plans to get into action, beautiful, devious plans. Oh yes!" Almost skipping, the pale being slips from the doorway, moving into the hall, rousing mages as he went. I glance in as a rather haggard looking Zorn ducks into the room, a sheet of paper in his hand. He reaches me, his hand snapping out to fix around my arm, tugging my sleeve up to glance at the large, blocky tattoo on my wrist. "123. Rear Hilda Garde deck, left side. Standing orders." Businesslike, he moves on, to a very irate looking 192. The other B gives him a venomous glance. He's going to pull away. He's going to make a scene. Oh please don't let him- "He's 192." I state, jumping from my seat and moving over to my scowling faced brother. He shoots me a 'I-don't-need-your-help' look. I ignore him, staring at Zorn imploringly. He merely favors us with a disgusted look before flipping up 44's sleeve. 44 gives us a helpless look, arm outstretched as he's assigned to the boiler room. I wince. Poor guy.
"You have your assignments. Go. Now." With those words he slips out, irately pouring over the sheet before him. He grumbles softly to himself as he joins up with his red hued other, Thorn patting him comfortingly on the back as the two of them move off, down the hallway.
44, 192 and I pour out of the room, 192 grumbling under his breath as he moves beside me, his eyes narrow and his fists tight as he stalks down the hall. Another mage joins us, number 69, looking nervous and edgy, tugging on his hat. His eyes are a bit wild as he looks at me and 44. "Wh-what do you think is happening?" I can only shrug.
44 throws up a hand. *I don't know. who knows with master Kuja. Probably has something to do with master Vivi and his friends."
We walk in silence for a moment, not knowing what to say. We need to hurry. master Kuja looked like he was in a real hurry. 69 looked at me nervously. "Where are we going?"
I can only shrug. "How should I know? That's something Zorn chose not to share with me. and I wasn't inclined to pry."
192 snorts, an odd sound in a mage. He favors 69 with a scathing look. "Just shut up and go along with it. Kuja's not going to spill it, so stop worrying about it. Just go along and for-" I blink. Another one of 192's weird words. 44 blushes. "-sake, just shut up."
69 glares. I lay a hand on his arm, shaking my head, voice apologetic. "He's. touchy. Don't be mad."
I did not expect 192's attitude at all. He actually struck the other mage. Just a little but. what's wrong with him? "HE shouldn't be mad?? He's being an annoying jerk., I mean-" 44's hand clamps over his arm, his eyes dangerous. 192 matches him, stare for stare. "You're touching me. I don't like it. Want me to stop? .What you gonna do about it, dough boy?"
"Insults now?" I growl in disgust. "192- I have no idea why you're so touchy but cut it out. I know things are edgy right now but dammit, just calm down okay? Please?"
Grumping, he nods. Walking on, we make our way to the ship.
-
Sand is so much more HELLISH when you're stuck on the deck of a ship. I find this out, much to my disgust, standing on the deck, hand clamped in a deathgrip to my hat as it whips and tugs, trying to escape me with every ounce of it's clothy being. Every mage has their back to the wind, ever since 32 had collapsed howling after a particularly dramatic spray of airborne sand had nearly taken his eyes out of his head. He was below deck, rubbing a potion into his face and flushing the sand from his abused vision. I silently shake my head, feeling another spray of sand flow over my shoulders, scattering to the deck. Suddenly, being as big and heavy as 44 was didn't seem too bad, considering he would most likely be the only one who wasn't worried at being blown from the deck. Thankfully, only A's and C's were assigned anywhere that didn't involve a railing, so we, the B's, the slighter middle children as it were, weren't in any danger of being blown into the desert to die. I hang on, my hand aching, feeling the wind try again to lift me from the deck and cast me away into space. How can Kuja look so calm, so composed, just standing there, leaning against the railing and staring into the sun blinding distance? He looks so calm, so composed. So in charge. Shivering, I almost turn away, then remember that the only away is a face full of terminal velocity sand. I hate sand. I hate sand I hate sand I hate sand.
I glance at the sun. How long had I been asleep? It seems hours and hours later. of course, being inside Kuja's residence made it impossible to tell the time. but it felt like so much later. Had I been that tired? Considering past events? Could very well be. I snap myself from my current musings in time to duck a brush of sand from where it was trying to blow across my face, and hiss in annoyance, feeling skin chafe and clothes get that much more itchy. I hate sand.
What are we doing here? Not the great, celestial question humans seem to always be asking themselves, but a bit more utilitarian. I don't even know where we're going, much less the reasons. But, being a black mage, it's not MY position to question. Sighing, I lean against the railing, waiting out the airborne hell.
I turn. 69 is staring out into the distance. Into the wind. I blink, glance back at master Kuja. Not looking. Shivering, I push out, along the rail. Slide, slide. And grab him. My voice is manic. "What are you DOING? You're going to blind yourself!"
And then I realize he seems to be panicking. "I set the trap. I almost killed them. I almost killed them all what the hell is wrong with me? I'm being bad I'm doing wrong what the h-hell is wrong with me."
I embrace him briefly, ruffling his hat with one hand, almost losing my own. "You did as ordered."
"Yeah, but now that Eiko kid is in trouble. oh 123. what's going to happen to her? She's just a little girl."
I freeze, hand on my hat, eyes wide. "-what?"
69's voice quavers. "We took her. She's here. On the ship. and Kuja's going to do horrible things to her. And it's all our fault."
I take him in my arms, utterly lost for words. What do you say to something like that? What the hell are you supposed to say to something like that.
-
Far below deck, a plush figure, slightly larger than most type A's sits beside a small, unconscious bundle, his hands gently rubbing her shoulder, his warm gold eyes guilty and sad. Brushing the purple hair from around her horn, he whispers small, near meaningless reassurances, voice low and hopeless.
-
Esto Gaza. A massive cavern.. And a lot of fluffy horrible white snow that sucks the warmth from the feet and crusts on the souls of your shoes and chokes your footsteps and seems to pull the very warmth from your soul as you are left to trudge between the walls of your brothers. Or at least it was for me. for others, I'm sure their impression would be a bit different.
The temple loomed before us. Master Kuja enters. and so do we. What else could we do?
Smoke. Great. A hundred candles or more, each dribbling wax and smoking with the bitter stink of sizzling tallow. No coughing Kuja had said, and I could hear my brothers before and after me struggling to comply. Struggling as I did. The light was pale, orange and flickering as we entered, thankful, even with the smoke and stink of the candles, simply thankful to be out of the snow. I shoot a furtive glance as we walk, kicking snow from my shoes in what I hope is a sneaky manner. Master Kuja wants us to be in synchronization when we walk. And we do, well, almost. I glance behind me as I walk.
The priest utters a stuttering protest. I would have answered him, apologized for the intrusion. For the puddles on the floor. But the master had ordered us silent. I bite my lip as I walk by, avoiding the man's angry, affronted glare. and look to the line, near the back. a little before the slowly walking figures of Zorn and Thorn, both uncharacteristically sober and quiet in the gloom, there walks a mage a little bigger than most.
44 is there. The tiny bundle in his big, gentle arms doesn't stir, doesn't move. she's so still. The shiver takes me before I can stop it, partially falling out of step. Thankfully master Kuja misses it. Thankfully. He seems too elated to notice very much of anything. I walk, my mind elsewhere and my soul miserable in my chest. This is wrong. Whatever happens this is wrong. This is wrong this is wrong this is. nothing to do about it but this is WRONG dammit.
I wish I wasn't such a pitiful, pathetic coward. A wishful thought, I know, but sometimes. it would be nice. I'd die, of course, but it would be nice.
I shake my head as the darkness descends, the gloomy cavern air thick and gray, stifling in my lungs as I walk onwards tirelessly, my mind feeling dead within my head, eyes empty and unseeing. I don't notice the gray pebbles shifting under my feet, the gray coating of dust that slowly begins to settle over us like the laments of the damned, coating me. coating all of us. showing us our sins in small, grainy fragments of the dying mountains, the memories of foolish adventurers long since reduced to this choking, poisonous dust. I cough softly, trying to get the taste of age and death from out of my mouth, running my dry, scratchy tongue over my lips in a hopeless attempt to bring some moisture to my tomb of a mouth at the moment. 192, directly ahead of me, curses softly under his breath. It's seems almost a mantra to him, hearing him spewing horrid words and phrases under his breath with every step. He's not even angry, just talking softly to himself, bestowing curses almost amiably upon every rock borne stumble, each toe jarred within his shoe, each mage he jostles in unintentional misstep. Even bestowing them on himself. I realize, as I walk, that most seem directed at him. he's berating himself again. I want to talk. to help him. To try to help him. Glancing at him from the corner of my eye, I let my eyes drift over him. he seems so gaunt. Does he eat? I don't know. I don't know. I -I should be watching him. with 288 gone. I should be watching him. but I haven't.
Scowling to myself, I curse softly, sighing. I've been drifting away from my brothers. Most of us have been staying in the cells, spending our free time eating within our own little group. talking with each other; easing the pain by sharing our fears, uncertainties with our brothers, letting the agony go just a little. sleeping against each other's shoulder, curled around a hip, leaning into the warmth. Comfort. Security. and where have I been?
Sitting in a cold, ill lit storage room, reading books the master Kuja would mindwipe me if he knew I was handling. Physics, biology, anatomy, chemistry. geology, geography, aerodynamics, history. psychology. Even philosophy. I would sit and read, pouring over the books in the way only a mage can read. a page at a single glance, perfectly understood and filed away. I knew now. I knew about people and things, animals, the world beneath my feet and the air around my face. The air within my body. I understood. but with understanding. came loneliness. I. I had left them.
I had begun avoiding them. Not totally, by any means. But I felt myself. drifting. Drifting away. and I didn't know why. I loved my brothers. so very much. so much it hurt. Had I hurt them? Had they ached at my absence? .Or did it not matter?
56. He had pulled me out of the darkness. he had held me to him, pressing me to his warm, soft shoulder. taking the pain away. And I realized now stupid. how very silly I had been. It took a bit more than a simple absence to remove the bond we held. And I cried. Because it had felt so good to know that I was being nothing more than a silly, foolish little boy. and that there was still a spot for me around the tetra master board. A shoulder for sleeping on. A lap for night terrors. A hand for kindness. eyes for compassion. arms for understanding. and words for release. I hadn't lost myself. they had found me. And pulled me back.
The dirt thick and soft beneath my sandals, I laugh, even now, at my own foolishness. Stupid boy. would you be so fickle with your friendships? .I shake my head, feeling almost ashamed at my own assumptions. to think so very little of my own brother's compassion.
Suddenly, soft footsteps, grinding on dirt shift, alter. echoing with a hollow, dull reverberation. Kuja slips into the structure, trying to sight the way to whatever ineffable goal he seeks. I see the mage at the front of the line, 32, hesitate. He tests the floor. nervousness written across his tight, drawn features. I can't hear what master Kuja says at that moment but it certainly causes a mad jumping rush by the scared mage, the next few not even questioning the floor as they spill in.
"Fuck if I'm going in there."
I glance up. 192's eyes are slits, disgust and defiance etched into his tight, drawn face. He begins to slow his steps. I raise my hand, fingers shaking. "192." My hand settles on his shoulder.
I never felt a mage's muscles stiffen so suddenly, nor so much. His voice emerges as a low, very quiet hiss. "Get. Your. Hand. Off. Me."
".19-"
"Now."
I remove it. He doesn't even look back, stomping across the ancient floorboards, nothing between him and a good three hundred foot drop but some weathered, half rotted wood. Face ashen, I follow, shaken.
His voice is a warbling growl, the half garbled words flung with small drops of saliva from between clenched teeth. I can't even begin to comprehend what he's saying. do what with a length of piano wire? That sounds painful.
"-skin it slowly with a paring knife and grind in the mineral salts DAMN this I can't BELIEVE this what the hell am I DOING he-"
The wall, so calm and serene, so wall-like and solid. suddenly loses all of it's solidity and much of it's wall-likeness in one rather violent instant. I wince, ducking back in shock as 192 screams like a stabbed child as the wall beside him suddenly erupts into a spray of stone bits and splinters. Covered in dust, he stands there, his eyes wide and very, very pale. Hunched, he stands, legs shaking and fingers twitching helplessly, face blank with shock. He's just standing there. why-
The dust choked light hides a body, a massive, gleaming red body, the dust ruffled feathers shifting with every tense shifting movement. The jaws of the massive red dragon gape wide, small lines of acidic saliva drooling down each and every curve, needlelike fang within the wet mouth, gaping in the horrid dragon's face like an open wound. It makes no sound as the long, gleaming neck coils to strike.
192's voice is very soft as he stands, hunched and miserable like a lost child, staring up into the murderous, tooth lined pit aimed at his face. "288. help me please. I'm scared."
The tears start then ".288?"
In a flash of murderous red scales, the jaws descend with a howl straight out of hell.
to be continued.
-
yeah, I know. What a rat right? *silently apologizes to any Burmecians who might have been offended by this comment.* Wonder what's going to happen? Is 192 about to get his intestines spilled to the floor in a wash of blood and screaming? Is the entire group about to get blitzed? Is the author really a girl, and not a rather talented Bonobo with a playstation and too much free time? Ha! Wait to find out, why don'cha! Next chapter Zorn and Thorn die! Waa! @_@ *sniffle* It's going to be hard watching those two be slaughtered. but the plot must go on. *wipes nose on Kuja's skirt* we salute you, Zorn and Thorn.
*is backhanded into low entery orbit by the irate Kuja, ranma ½ style* eeeeeee! See you in chapter 7!
