A Promising Young Seed
Chapter 1
Phantasmagoria
Esthar City was a large place. The biggest city in the world. Intertwining tubes of travel that led to layers upon layers of buildings and under-dwellings. From the underground to the tallest skyscraper. Esthar had been rebuilt after the Lunar Cry, even bigger and better than before, as promised by President Loire. And with that new development, it had opened its long-hidden doors to the rest of the world. A glistening magnet for everyone to enjoy. Esthar had opened up to the rest of the world and was the center for all things party, glamour, fashion, and debauchery.
Deep in the lower streets of Esthar was a scene that had been bustling for some time since the Second Sorceress War. Clubs, parties, and gambling were all common, with all the legal and illegal persons and activities that came along with them.
In the underbelly of this hedonistic world was a club. A club that was the zeitgeist of new Esthar. The beacon that stood proudly among many others. Appropriately named: Phantasmagoria. That was exactly what it was. Things seen and unseen, real and imagined, all within a waking dream. A place where it was easy to get lost, to go unnoticed or disappear. Or just as easy to be seen and worshipped. Whatever anyone wanted from it.
Not all of its patrons engaged in illicit behavior. In fact, many did not. Phantasmagoria was popular among both the elite and the wanna-bes of Esthar, both those in the underground and above-ground businesses. Beautiful people. Everywhere.
There was a dance floor and multiple bars in the lower levels, with glass shelves that were lit underneath to give an ethereal glow to the spirits. A house DJ who was originally from Deling City and produced all the pop stars' biggest hits. The upper level was VIP-only, with table service where waitresses in small shorts and glittering tube tops brought out entire 3000 gil bottles of alcohol with a firework attached to the top, putting on a big show. Only the crème-de-la-crème were allowed on that upper level. With the rest dancing below them. Able to observe the kingdom they had created.
Both the legal and illegal. Living in harmony with each other. A perfect dream for Esthar, now available to anyone who was beautiful, desperate, or rich enough to enter.
It was on a rainy evening when one such commoner, a low-level dealer, was looking for a target. He was well connected enough, he knew some of the high-flyers who were allowed in the upper levels of Phantasmagoria, but he himself was too pedestrian to go there. At least for now. After all, he was a man of ambition.
This ambition was currently drawing him towards an extremely beautiful woman. A beautiful woman who appeared rather inebriated.
He had watched her take a pill. Had seen it with his own eyes. And watched her take a shot of alcohol.
There were many like her. Many who readily accepted a drug here and there. Many of them, upon closer inspection, were worn down and out. Used and abused by time and habit. Beautiful from afar, but washed-up when up close.
But, not this one. She was ripe. No hard lines to her face up close. Perfect teeth. This was not the sort of girl who readily and easily took drugs from strangers in Phantasmagoria. She was new. Fresh.
Sure, there were plenty of beautiful ones, not worn out, but those were always on the upper levels, willing playthings for the elite. Rarely were they seen down at the bar, unless they were trying to work their way to the top.
She was completely dressed for attention. A short dress and knee-high boots with towering heels. Her hair was pink, likely a wig, cropped short and angling around attractive cheek bones and a strong jaw. Piercing blue eyes, covered with smoky shadow and deep red lips. She wanted it. She was begging for it.
Her dancing belied the fact that she was intoxicated, even though it was painfully obvious when she attempted to stand still. It was going to be easy. So easy it made him want to weep with joy.
Sure, his boss had rules about this. Rules about what they were allowed to do with girls, what they were allowed to do with their stashes. Strict rules. Some stupid lecture about how it wasn't honorable, and if they didn't give a shit about honor, it wasn't worth the risk of exposure. And if they didn't give a shit about that, then they certainly should fear his wrath.
But, his boss wasn't here today.
It was hideously easily to convince the woman to come back with him to his apartment. Sloppy kisses on the way there as she tripped over her ridiculously high heels. Stumbling her way in, to the point where she almost fell down the stairs.
By the time they made it to his bed she was nearly unconscious. Splayed on his bed with a leg kicked to the side. Her smoky eyes were smudged now, her make up not as pristine, but she was still so very beautiful.
It was effortless to shove the shirt to her hips and reach for her underwear. He was frankly surprised she was wearing any.
His greedy face was in between her thighs, reaching up…
And thighs tightened, gripping his head where it was.
"What are you doing?" A surprisingly clear voice asked.
"Wh—What?" He stammered, pulling his head from between her legs and staring up.
"I said, what are you doing?" The woman was propped up on her elbows, glaring at him with the icy blue gaze. A stare that was clear. Focused. Not a shred of inebriation to be seen
But…that was impossible! She was barely coherent seconds ago. But, here she was, fully awake. Fully coherent. Staring at him.
"I…I was checking, um…" he managed to spit out
She cocked her head to the side, sitting up and folding her arms in front of her chest. His thoughts were jumbled by a boot to his face and he was shoved back to his bottom on the ground, as the woman crossed her legs primly.
"Checking what? Do you normally attempt to bury your head in girl's vaginas when they are unconscious?"
"No, I—"
Fuck. Was this whore a narc? Was this a sting?
She stood, and he suddenly realized how tall this woman was. How did he not notice that before?
"You do, don't you? You're the type. Piece of shit. How many girls do you normally drag back here?"
The man thought as quickly as he could. But he wasn't completely sober himself. Always breaking that rule about dipping into his stash. He had a weapon somewhere… a gun was under his mattress, and he had a knife in that table… Was this bitch military? Was she just a whore looking to steal from him?
Think, think…
She reached into her boot, and he panicked. She must be armed as well. He flinched and dove for the side of the bed, where he was sure a knife was. She pulled out something he couldn't make out. Scrambling on the floor, he heard something whoosh by his head and hit the door.
Good, she was a terrible aim. Whatever it was that she threw was no where near him. So she clearly wasn't military. Or police.
He was scrambling at his bedside drawer, pulling his knife out… and then he heard a distant click.
The front door? Had she unlocked it?
Shit shit shit shit…
Maybe her aim wasn't so bad after all.
As he turned to face his fate, the last thing he saw was a hooded figure entering his apartment.
The beautiful woman's voice was in his ear. "Certainly, you wouldn't say anything about our little evening, would you? After all, who would believe you? And then, you'd have to explain to your boss why you are dragging unconscious women to your home. Oh…and I know where you live."
"Ta, darling," came a second voice.
And then there was nothing but blackness.
When he awoke, a few hours later, nothing in his apartment seemed out of place. All of his belongings were still there, most of his cash was left behind. His laptop still sat on his desk. His stash had been raided, the baggie holding it sitting next to his toilet, which was running. His gun was missing, but that was to be expected. They were highly illegal in Esthar, and therefore highly sought after in the underworld. But, nothing else was missing. Including a large amount of gil still sitting under his mattress, tied up with rubber bands.
What had just happened?
XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx
"Well?" the woman asked, tugging an oversized jacket over her dress to hide her lithe form. The large coat completely encased her, covering the short skirt and the exposed skin. Tugging the wig off, she stuffed it in her pocket. Dressed like this, she could be anyone else, out late, or maybe after a late night at the office.
Her companion kept the hood squarely over his head. A nose ring gleamed from underneath.
"Yeah. The moron had his password as being 'password'."
He produced a memory card from his pocket, as well as two pills. They were blue with chocobos on them.
"Is this what was floating around the club tonight?"
The woman nodded, turning a quick corner down an alleyway. "Yup. Blue chocobo. They were everywhere."
"I'll see what they show up with the kit when we get home."
A few turns later and they entered a semi-rundown, but not derelict apartment building. Bounding up five flights of stairs, multiple keys later, including biometrics, they entered a two-bedroom apartment that was rather tidy and well-kept. Surprisingly so. There was decent furniture, and artwork on the walls. One of the bedrooms was filled with computers, a lab, and a fold-out bed in the corner. The other was a true bedroom, with billowing curtains, a wooden headboard, and books stacked on a bedside table.
The man pulled his hoodie off. He sported a blue mohawk. There was scarring around his cheek and one of his eyes. Unzipping the hoodie fully, he tossed it carelessly to the side, where it landed on the couch. He was built well, though thinner than he should be. His body was that of someone who was in incredible shape, but hadn't kept up with the protein needed for mass. Tattoos littered his arms, chest, and back. On his back was a large ruby dragon, exquisitely done and one of a kind. The kind of tattoo anyone would remember if they ever saw it.
"Better get to work." He jerked a thumb towards the room with the computers and the lab.
"Man, she was so much better at this…"
He often mumbled this to himself as he began his work. Crushing the pills from his pocket, he spread them out with a razor blade into a few distinct piles. Retrieving a number of vials from a small kit in the drawer of the desk, he dropped a few different liquids onto the smaller piles, typing notes into a file on his computer about the various color changes that appeared. For good measure, he wrote them down in a small notebook in his pocket as well. In code, of course.
"I should know more soon. Basic composition and all. Deeper shit I won't know until daylight," he called out from the room.
That was all she needed to hear. The woman stripped out of her dress and stumbled into her bathroom, turning the shower on until steam enveloped the small room. Sighing, she stepped into the water and scrubbed until her skin was pink. Scrubbed the makeup off her face.
Finally satisfied, she stepped out and ran a hand across the mirror to clear the fog, so she could see her face. Her familiar crystal blue eyes stared back. It was still her. She was still here. After a quick towel-dry of her blonde hair, she tugged on a pair of yoga pants and a tank top before drifting back into the living room to check on the work of her companion.
His door was closed, so instead she sank into the couch and ran her hands over her face. It had been weeks, and they hadn't made much progress recently. They still couldn't find anyone higher up. She wasn't marking the right guys. The same stuff, the same pills, every night. And no closer to the upper levels.
She let out a frustrated sigh.
His voice interrupted her. "Hey… you okay? I got there in time tonight, right?"
"Yeah. I'm okay. You were there when I needed you."
"Good."
He paused, chewing on the inside of his lip. There was hesitation in his voice, though he chose to continue. "So, my preliminary examination makes it seem like the pills are the same ones from last week. Coming from the same source as well. This is all coming from one person, and we need to find that guy. They aren't as strong as the other ones… whatever they've been cut with. I won't know what that is until the spectroscopy is done. I'll let it run through the night…"
"Great, we've known that we are looking for a single person, and here we don't even have a name! So, basically, tonight was a waste. Again."
"Quisty…"
Shaking her head, Quistis headed to her bedroom door, pausing at the threshold.
"Will you sleep next to me tonight?"
Her voice was quiet as she asked.
There was an understanding look on his face. "Sure…sure."
"Okay. I'm going to go to bed then. Goodnight, Zell."
A few hours later, Zell climbed into bed next to her. She was under the covers and he remained on top. It was strictly platonic, the arrangement. Neither of them wanted it to be anything but that. Giving a gentle rub to her back, he put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. Sometimes, they just needed to know someone was close by who had their back.
Memories of the war drifted into his mind as he tried to sleep. It wasn't too unlike sharing a tent, he supposed. Nor were the emotions.
They just wanted to be sure they weren't alone. Because, really, they were. They were more alone than they had ever been in their lives. More alone than when they were in the orphanage, or in Garden, or in the War.
And they both knew it.
"Quistis?" he finally whispered into the darkness, knowing she would awaken.
She mumbled something incoherent, to show she was listening.
"I didn't want to tell you until I was absolutely sure."
"Sure of what?" That woke Quistis up.
Zell sighed. "I found something. I didn't want to tell you until I knew it was valid. But it seems like it is… The guy from tonight, the clone of his computer I made… I looked into it. Then, I cross-referenced between the other databases I've made, and then from tonight's computer, I—"
"Zell—" She was trying to not sound annoyed. Trying and failing.
Zell cleared his throat. "Right. Well, I found a name."
"A…name?"
"Someone near the top. Not at the top, but definitely someone. I think it might be the supplier we are looking for."
"And?" She turned on her back to peek over at him.
"Siegfried."
xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX
Back in Garden, there were whispers. Rumors. Zell leaving Garden wasn't as much as a surprise. He had his boxing, and Ma. He never really was set for the permanent life of a mercenary. No one had heard from him, or knew where he was. But, also no one particularly cared aside from the girl in the library. Their relationship had soured after the incident. As it was called.
But, the rumors of Quistis were those of legend. She was the star. The perfect one. The prodigy. Poised to take over from Cid Kramer. She had the world at her feet. But now? No one really knew where she ended up, either. There were stories that she was in some sewer in Deling City. Others that she had been knocked up by a fisherman in Dollet. Others that she was the mistress of Laguna Loire.
It was a shame really. She had made nothing of herself.
And she was such a promising young SeeD…
A/N: Beta: colobonema *mwah*
The title of this fic was inspired by the movie "A Promising Young Woman". I didn't actually see the movie, but I kept seeing previews (in French), where the character was calling out men between her legs saying: Qu'est-ce que tu fais? and I kept picturing Quistis as a vigilante which eventually inspired the story. (The line sounds better in French, especially if Q was saying it, but alas)
This will be an eventual romance and Seiftis as well as a strong Zell & Q friendship fic. Canon-typical violence as well as some references to drug-use. Hope you all enjoy!
