*nervous laughter* Hey, everyone... I'm alive... and I have a very good excuse! First I went on vacation, then my mom got a cyst and had to have an operation, which meant that yours truly gets to cook dinners (and the stove has NOT exploded! *proud*) among other things, and with all that plus my evil summer job and college essays I have simply had no time. *puppy dog eyes* So I hope you'll all forgive me, and if not, then by all means yell at me in a review! (sly look)
One more part after this, plus the epilogue and ANs. Still looking for ideas on what to do after this. I'm tossing an Ultimecia idea around, but I don't know yet if it'll amount to anything.
Disclaimer: "Then Zeus came down from Mount Olympus and spake to Paris, saying, 'Thou shalt be the judge...'" Wait, you're actually *reading* this? You must know I don't own FFVIII or anything quoted herein.
---------------
~Hourglass~
---------------
10:45 AM
(She said)
The flash-burn on my arm has eased, leaving only a dull ache that will remain for the next two weeks. Casting magic or summoning GFs will be painful until the new junctions integrate successfully, but all in all it is a small price to pay for such power. For the kind I feel coming from him. Can he truly believe I can become as powerful as all that?
I am always one step behind.
Power radiates from him in waves; power, danger... and death. This is a man who has killed, for no better reason then he wanted to; this is a man who will kill again, for no better reason then he is told to.
And he believes I can become just like him.
A part of me is frightened, but I have been too long in SeeD. Most of me feels only pride.
What that makes me, I do not choose long to ponder.
10:46 AM
(He said)
I can't stop looking at her, the way she seem so suddenly fragile, skin flushed pale against the angry red of the biohazard symbol freshly burned onto her arm, bleached next to the ominous black of the death junction. She looks as if she might crumple with the next light breeze. Yet at the same time she looks stronger then the brick wall she leans against for support.
A contradiction in terms.
[Try not to get /too/ distracted,] Alexander's voice intrudes sardonically. [Your train leaves in ten minutes, and unless I'm much mistaken you haven't told her the plan yet...]
Practical as always, the tolerantly crabby words reinforce my own sense of purpose. He's right, of course. Going into there clueless would be like offering Ultimecia Squall on a silver platter, gift-wrapped and with a note reading "Go ahead, take him; I don't mind." He would fall just as easily as I had...
Well. Not quite.
She played on my insecurities, used Matron's memories to her advantage and promised to rose-tint my world, but in the end it doesn't really matter. The decision was mind.
At the time, I didn't feel I had any other choice.
I want to tell her, I want to explain, I want to tell my truth to the pale angel before me but she can't know, must never know, and for what I did there can be no excuses. I didn't know, at the time, that Ultimecia offered more than a way out. A way out of the trap I'd created for myself at Garden. How much longer, I'd wondered, before they faced up to the fact that I wasn't going to make it and told me I had to leave? I didn't know that I would have made SeeD on my next try if she hadn't come. Ultimecia told me later, with the absolute certainty of one for whom my future is her past, with the careless maliciousness of one who views others as pawns or less. I didn't know, when I went with her, what she wanted me to do. But later, I knew. I knew, and I did it anyway.
Hyne help me.
Yet even while I obeyed her orders, I believed I had no other choice. Thinking I had burned my bridges, believing I was irreversibly bound to her, knowing I could never leave I only dug myself in deeper.
In the end, I lost everything, and as I wandered through Time Compression I finally came to realize the inevitability of the truth. And only after I had damned myself was I given a true way out. And all it really was was a way back in.
And now that I really have a choice, I'm using it to go back.
Fate, it seems, has a sense of humor.
With a decidedly gallows streak.
"Quisty," I open hesitantly, reluctant to break the sudden closeness, and I realize that not only is she leaning on me, not the wall, for support, she's actually /purring/. Quistis Trepe. Purring. In my arms. Reality check, please.
[Years too late for that, my boy.]
She looks up reluctantly and I swallow hard. "What?"
"It's about Timber."
Just that fast the mood changes. She straightens, going abruptly professional, and though I miss the contact I can't in good conscience complain. But then, very few things I have ever done have been in good conscience.
"We should arrive in Timber at roughly 1256," I begin, trying to focus, as if this is a briefing no different from any other. But there's only us, and it's me in the front this time, describing the plan for a mission that, if successful, is the first step towards stopping the Third Sorceress War dead in its tracks only weeks-- even, possibly, less-- into its cycle of war, peace and revolution.
"Squall and the others shouldn't arrive until 1300. The timing here is very important. The new television system will undergo a broadcast check at 1258. That's when she'll slip through. The station is supposed to come fully online and begin sending data at 1300. She plans to seize it.
"Here's what will happen. I will go ahead when we get there, go directly to the comm station, and try to stop her on my own. It will obviously be best if I can talk her out if it, appeal to the real Matron and head all of this off without resorting to violence."
Quistis looks at me oddly, and I realize that from her perspective, it's almost alien to hear me advocate nonviolence. Such a difference a year makes. I will fight again, for such is the life I have chosen, but never again will I seek it out. Only when all other options are exhausted will I resort to adamantine to solve my problems.
This problem will require the latter. I have no illusions about my ability to defeat Ultimecia single-handedly, nor do I believe the lock she has on Matron can be broken with words alone. But before the fighting begins, there are a few questions I want to ask her, and a few things I want her to know.
Timing is everything.
"I need you to wait at the train station. When Squall shows up, give him the short version and get everyone-- including Rinoa-- to the comm tower."
"Why Rinoa?" Surprise and professional indignation color her tone. "She's no part in this."
"She has."
"She hasn't been trained for this! Being the figurehead of a resistance faction doesn't mean that she can take on a mage powerful enough to control someone's mind."
Yes, we thought that once, and at first it was true. Her inexperience was a distinct handicap at first, and it lead to the D-District prison and the single most terrible act I have ever committed. But underneath that spoilt exterior was steel waiting to be tapped, and when, outer layer flayed away, Rinoa reached for that inner strength, she became someone no one could have expected. Youth and naïveté tempered by the wisdom of every sorceress who lived before lent her a maturity that had been sorely lacking. She kept up, she got tough, and she learned fast. It was that or become a casualty of a war that cared nothing for innocents. By the end she was a different person-- trained, capable and very, very good. Good enough to face that final battle and win. Good enough to make SeeD after a token year of obligatory classes. And, knowing she was capable of this, she could be pushed to achieve it much more rapidly. She would do it again. It was the least I could do for her. The least I owed Squall.
Quistis knew this expression by now, knew that behind my suddenly barricaded eyes ran reasons I could never explain. She nodded acquiescence, clearly still reluctant but accepting. I wanted to tell her how much that meant, her faith in me, and just how little I deserved it. I wanted to tell her a lot of things.
For now, though, I had to settle for "Even if you get to the comm tower early, don't go in until 1302. No sooner. If I'm not out by then, you go in with weapons ready. Do you understand?" It's not much time, Hyne knows, but it's all I can risk. It will have to be enough.
"There's more." I stare over her shoulder for a moment, unable to look at her. "If we have to fight, we can't kill her. Even if that means letting her escape."
Quistis makes an impatient gesture. "Of course."
"She's going to *try* to escape. She *plans* to- and she intends to take one of us with her."
I can feel the sudden intensity of her gaze as it bores into me. "Specifically, she's gunning for me or Squall, though if she gets desperate enough she might try, later on, for someone else.
"When you meet up with Squall, there's something you need to tell him. It won't mean anything to him now, and I hope to Hyne he won't need it, but if he's in danger he'll understand."
"And if not, he'll never know." The neatness of the idea seems to appeal to her. I think of Galbadia Garden, of the battle there, of a power transfer that Ultimecia had warned me about in advance. Because it was history. Because it was inescapable, no matter how much of history she's managed to rewrite. And I think that, one way or another, Squall will know when he takes Rinoa's bond. But there is no need to burden her unnecessarily with knowledge that she cannot use, and so I say nothing to that.
"Ready?"
"Let's hear it."
"Liel'aie ikuen."
She's silent for a moment, turning the strange sounds over in her mind.
"Repeat it," I order.
"Liel'aie ikuen." Good. As long as she's got it now, I can count on her perfect memory to deliver the message accurately. Besides, I'll be there, and I'll use force if necessary to stop him. But if he doesn't choose to reject her, if force /is/ what it takes, he'll be tainted by her all his days.
A sigh. "I guess that's it," I end. "After the battle, we'll need to head to Galbadia Garden and pick up Irvine, but at that point Squall's in command, and he doesn't remember a thing. Neither do Zell or Selphie."
"Irvine does?"
"Galbadia Garden doesn't use GFs regularly."
"Neither does Trabia."
"Selphie found one on her own and kept it junctioned."
She nods slowly in comprehension. "All right," she says. "I'll suggest Galbadia Garden, and be discreet."
I smile at her, unable to help myself despite the pressure and anticipation. "It will be fine," I say, as much to remind myself as to reassure her.
Then a thought strikes me and I check the chronometer hanging from my equipment belt. "We'd better go now. By the time be buy our tickets and get on board..."
She closes her eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath and a moment of relative calm. When she opens her eyes again my expression is controlled and relaxed.
"Come on," I motion her. "Let's go."
10:49 AM
(She said)
We ascent the last hill in perfect unison. SeeD-issue boots ring out smartly against cobblestone streets. Weapons, oiled and gleaming, catch stray rays of light. Upright profiles stride, businesslike and confident, past open shop doors.
Ahead of us a building rises higher in our view with each step of ascent. Open-air on the far side, from here it appears solid. Massive, dark, cold and imposing, it is Transport, swift and impersonal.
The Balamb City Train Station.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Approaching departure point, ladies and gentlemen.
And now it's time for... Choose Your Own Adventure!
*ahem*
"Ahead of you you see a blue button marked 'review'. Curious as to what this means, you read a small hand-lettered sign beneath it. This sign informs you that if you press the button and type a few words, a new part will be posted much more swiftly. If you choose not to press the button, however, the part may be delayed just as long if not longer.
To leave a review, click the blue button and turn to the 'review' page.
To skip the review, tell Satan Lyaka sent you."
:p
Lyaka ^^
One more part after this, plus the epilogue and ANs. Still looking for ideas on what to do after this. I'm tossing an Ultimecia idea around, but I don't know yet if it'll amount to anything.
Disclaimer: "Then Zeus came down from Mount Olympus and spake to Paris, saying, 'Thou shalt be the judge...'" Wait, you're actually *reading* this? You must know I don't own FFVIII or anything quoted herein.
---------------
~Hourglass~
---------------
10:45 AM
(She said)
The flash-burn on my arm has eased, leaving only a dull ache that will remain for the next two weeks. Casting magic or summoning GFs will be painful until the new junctions integrate successfully, but all in all it is a small price to pay for such power. For the kind I feel coming from him. Can he truly believe I can become as powerful as all that?
I am always one step behind.
Power radiates from him in waves; power, danger... and death. This is a man who has killed, for no better reason then he wanted to; this is a man who will kill again, for no better reason then he is told to.
And he believes I can become just like him.
A part of me is frightened, but I have been too long in SeeD. Most of me feels only pride.
What that makes me, I do not choose long to ponder.
10:46 AM
(He said)
I can't stop looking at her, the way she seem so suddenly fragile, skin flushed pale against the angry red of the biohazard symbol freshly burned onto her arm, bleached next to the ominous black of the death junction. She looks as if she might crumple with the next light breeze. Yet at the same time she looks stronger then the brick wall she leans against for support.
A contradiction in terms.
[Try not to get /too/ distracted,] Alexander's voice intrudes sardonically. [Your train leaves in ten minutes, and unless I'm much mistaken you haven't told her the plan yet...]
Practical as always, the tolerantly crabby words reinforce my own sense of purpose. He's right, of course. Going into there clueless would be like offering Ultimecia Squall on a silver platter, gift-wrapped and with a note reading "Go ahead, take him; I don't mind." He would fall just as easily as I had...
Well. Not quite.
She played on my insecurities, used Matron's memories to her advantage and promised to rose-tint my world, but in the end it doesn't really matter. The decision was mind.
At the time, I didn't feel I had any other choice.
I want to tell her, I want to explain, I want to tell my truth to the pale angel before me but she can't know, must never know, and for what I did there can be no excuses. I didn't know, at the time, that Ultimecia offered more than a way out. A way out of the trap I'd created for myself at Garden. How much longer, I'd wondered, before they faced up to the fact that I wasn't going to make it and told me I had to leave? I didn't know that I would have made SeeD on my next try if she hadn't come. Ultimecia told me later, with the absolute certainty of one for whom my future is her past, with the careless maliciousness of one who views others as pawns or less. I didn't know, when I went with her, what she wanted me to do. But later, I knew. I knew, and I did it anyway.
Hyne help me.
Yet even while I obeyed her orders, I believed I had no other choice. Thinking I had burned my bridges, believing I was irreversibly bound to her, knowing I could never leave I only dug myself in deeper.
In the end, I lost everything, and as I wandered through Time Compression I finally came to realize the inevitability of the truth. And only after I had damned myself was I given a true way out. And all it really was was a way back in.
And now that I really have a choice, I'm using it to go back.
Fate, it seems, has a sense of humor.
With a decidedly gallows streak.
"Quisty," I open hesitantly, reluctant to break the sudden closeness, and I realize that not only is she leaning on me, not the wall, for support, she's actually /purring/. Quistis Trepe. Purring. In my arms. Reality check, please.
[Years too late for that, my boy.]
She looks up reluctantly and I swallow hard. "What?"
"It's about Timber."
Just that fast the mood changes. She straightens, going abruptly professional, and though I miss the contact I can't in good conscience complain. But then, very few things I have ever done have been in good conscience.
"We should arrive in Timber at roughly 1256," I begin, trying to focus, as if this is a briefing no different from any other. But there's only us, and it's me in the front this time, describing the plan for a mission that, if successful, is the first step towards stopping the Third Sorceress War dead in its tracks only weeks-- even, possibly, less-- into its cycle of war, peace and revolution.
"Squall and the others shouldn't arrive until 1300. The timing here is very important. The new television system will undergo a broadcast check at 1258. That's when she'll slip through. The station is supposed to come fully online and begin sending data at 1300. She plans to seize it.
"Here's what will happen. I will go ahead when we get there, go directly to the comm station, and try to stop her on my own. It will obviously be best if I can talk her out if it, appeal to the real Matron and head all of this off without resorting to violence."
Quistis looks at me oddly, and I realize that from her perspective, it's almost alien to hear me advocate nonviolence. Such a difference a year makes. I will fight again, for such is the life I have chosen, but never again will I seek it out. Only when all other options are exhausted will I resort to adamantine to solve my problems.
This problem will require the latter. I have no illusions about my ability to defeat Ultimecia single-handedly, nor do I believe the lock she has on Matron can be broken with words alone. But before the fighting begins, there are a few questions I want to ask her, and a few things I want her to know.
Timing is everything.
"I need you to wait at the train station. When Squall shows up, give him the short version and get everyone-- including Rinoa-- to the comm tower."
"Why Rinoa?" Surprise and professional indignation color her tone. "She's no part in this."
"She has."
"She hasn't been trained for this! Being the figurehead of a resistance faction doesn't mean that she can take on a mage powerful enough to control someone's mind."
Yes, we thought that once, and at first it was true. Her inexperience was a distinct handicap at first, and it lead to the D-District prison and the single most terrible act I have ever committed. But underneath that spoilt exterior was steel waiting to be tapped, and when, outer layer flayed away, Rinoa reached for that inner strength, she became someone no one could have expected. Youth and naïveté tempered by the wisdom of every sorceress who lived before lent her a maturity that had been sorely lacking. She kept up, she got tough, and she learned fast. It was that or become a casualty of a war that cared nothing for innocents. By the end she was a different person-- trained, capable and very, very good. Good enough to face that final battle and win. Good enough to make SeeD after a token year of obligatory classes. And, knowing she was capable of this, she could be pushed to achieve it much more rapidly. She would do it again. It was the least I could do for her. The least I owed Squall.
Quistis knew this expression by now, knew that behind my suddenly barricaded eyes ran reasons I could never explain. She nodded acquiescence, clearly still reluctant but accepting. I wanted to tell her how much that meant, her faith in me, and just how little I deserved it. I wanted to tell her a lot of things.
For now, though, I had to settle for "Even if you get to the comm tower early, don't go in until 1302. No sooner. If I'm not out by then, you go in with weapons ready. Do you understand?" It's not much time, Hyne knows, but it's all I can risk. It will have to be enough.
"There's more." I stare over her shoulder for a moment, unable to look at her. "If we have to fight, we can't kill her. Even if that means letting her escape."
Quistis makes an impatient gesture. "Of course."
"She's going to *try* to escape. She *plans* to- and she intends to take one of us with her."
I can feel the sudden intensity of her gaze as it bores into me. "Specifically, she's gunning for me or Squall, though if she gets desperate enough she might try, later on, for someone else.
"When you meet up with Squall, there's something you need to tell him. It won't mean anything to him now, and I hope to Hyne he won't need it, but if he's in danger he'll understand."
"And if not, he'll never know." The neatness of the idea seems to appeal to her. I think of Galbadia Garden, of the battle there, of a power transfer that Ultimecia had warned me about in advance. Because it was history. Because it was inescapable, no matter how much of history she's managed to rewrite. And I think that, one way or another, Squall will know when he takes Rinoa's bond. But there is no need to burden her unnecessarily with knowledge that she cannot use, and so I say nothing to that.
"Ready?"
"Let's hear it."
"Liel'aie ikuen."
She's silent for a moment, turning the strange sounds over in her mind.
"Repeat it," I order.
"Liel'aie ikuen." Good. As long as she's got it now, I can count on her perfect memory to deliver the message accurately. Besides, I'll be there, and I'll use force if necessary to stop him. But if he doesn't choose to reject her, if force /is/ what it takes, he'll be tainted by her all his days.
A sigh. "I guess that's it," I end. "After the battle, we'll need to head to Galbadia Garden and pick up Irvine, but at that point Squall's in command, and he doesn't remember a thing. Neither do Zell or Selphie."
"Irvine does?"
"Galbadia Garden doesn't use GFs regularly."
"Neither does Trabia."
"Selphie found one on her own and kept it junctioned."
She nods slowly in comprehension. "All right," she says. "I'll suggest Galbadia Garden, and be discreet."
I smile at her, unable to help myself despite the pressure and anticipation. "It will be fine," I say, as much to remind myself as to reassure her.
Then a thought strikes me and I check the chronometer hanging from my equipment belt. "We'd better go now. By the time be buy our tickets and get on board..."
She closes her eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath and a moment of relative calm. When she opens her eyes again my expression is controlled and relaxed.
"Come on," I motion her. "Let's go."
10:49 AM
(She said)
We ascent the last hill in perfect unison. SeeD-issue boots ring out smartly against cobblestone streets. Weapons, oiled and gleaming, catch stray rays of light. Upright profiles stride, businesslike and confident, past open shop doors.
Ahead of us a building rises higher in our view with each step of ascent. Open-air on the far side, from here it appears solid. Massive, dark, cold and imposing, it is Transport, swift and impersonal.
The Balamb City Train Station.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Approaching departure point, ladies and gentlemen.
And now it's time for... Choose Your Own Adventure!
*ahem*
"Ahead of you you see a blue button marked 'review'. Curious as to what this means, you read a small hand-lettered sign beneath it. This sign informs you that if you press the button and type a few words, a new part will be posted much more swiftly. If you choose not to press the button, however, the part may be delayed just as long if not longer.
To leave a review, click the blue button and turn to the 'review' page.
To skip the review, tell Satan Lyaka sent you."
:p
Lyaka ^^