Author's Note: To every yin, there is a yang. To every cause, there is an effect. To every crime, there is someone responsible. To every beginning, there is an end. Fortunately for you, the end won't be for two more books yet. However, this is where I end Silver Rose Part One and move on to a new project. I don't know what it is. But it'll come, rest assured. As you can probably see, there was a rating change. I hope this didn't cut out anyone's reading, and really hope this was enough to keep you pleased for the months it was around. March 28 will mark my second year on the Internet, December 25 of 2002 marked my one-year anniversary of writing. and February 26 will be my first year on FF.Net. I have something with twenties, y'know? Anyway, as you can probably see, Cloud and Rude are now in on it, and the second book will pick up about a year after this one ends. Without more stallation. . .Silver Rose: Epilogue. ( And, in true me fashion, the epilogue itself is horrendously short. )
Silver Rose
by Reno Spiegel
Dante@towernetwork.net
December 13, 3076
Evening. Hallway. Turk Headquarters. 9:56 P.M.
"Turk Headquarters, Aeris speaking." - Aeris, Turk HQ
Aeris and I aren't Turks, and neither is the new man. Yet Aeris, he, and I are living in the Turk headquarters with Reno and Rude somewhere near Holzoff's cabin in the Great Glacier. We're living here because Reno took us here and we have nowehere else to go or be. So we're doing odd jobs. I'm an assistant for when they have a big mission, which hasn't come up yet, Aeris is a kind of secretary, and the new man, Cloud Strife of Nibelheim, is quickly training me in the arts of fighting with a sword. Reno swears he'll teach me, when he has a moment, how to harness the power of the whole changing-into-an-angel thing.
Right now, I'm standing in the hallway, talking to him. Starting with myself, in hushed voices, it's going something like this:
"You knew first. You should do it."
"She ain't mine."
". . .Fair enough, but I'm no good at these things."
"Speak from the heart, Grasshopper."
He's got jokes. Reassuring, to an extent. "At least watch me and make sure I don't fuck up?"
"You don't want me to do that."
"Why?"
"See these scars on my cheeks?"
"Yeah."
"How do you think I got 'em?"
Hell if I know. "Gang-fight?"
"Told my old girlfriend and proposed in the same sentence."
"Ow."
"Exactly. Go for it."
He leans against the wall and jerks his head at the door. Aeris' door. She should be laying down, reading one of her paperback novels right about now. We're closer in the past week than we were, but still not up to the point of sharing a room and whatnot. The headquarters is almost a large shack. Pizza boxes and beer cans in the main room, most on the floor, and no one cares. The dishes are piling up in the sink to the point of looking like a tower, and we wash them once a week, or when we run out.
And no one cares.
This place is home now, and these people are family. We all have schedules, we all respect each other, and we all look out for whoever needs it. We have ample money, frankly we could go out and buy the old ShinRa Mansion without breaking a sweat, but we like it here. We're attached to the five-bedroom, trashy, could-be-beautiful place. Speaking of ShinRa, they don't even look for me anymore. Reno bribed them to call off the search.
Kala herself said, in a backstage interview I have on disc in my cabinet, "Watch your back like you'll die in seconds. Fight like you'll live for eternity."
Reno, Rude, Cloud, Aeris and I are all fighters, outcasts from the pool of society thrown together by an odd twist of fate and given the tolerance, just enough of it, to stand each other and each others' annoying little habits. Like Cloud's sharpening of his knives. And Reno's beer-breath that never seems to cease. Aeris insists on turning off the lights when everyone's asleep, and Rude is so forgetful he can't remember where the remote went half the time, even when it's in his hand. Me, I always turn something on, be it the stove, radio, or sink, and walk right out of the room as if it were nothing.
But somehow, we cope. And we, as much as possible, have grown to almost-love each other and the idiotic ways we do things in just a week.
". . .Alright."
I step up to the door and give it two hard knocks. Reno sinks back into the corner, just within earshot of her room, and gives me a thumbs-up. No fooling around now. This is when it gets serious and I need all the support I can get. Unfortunately, Rude and Cloud took the snow-riders, our newest purchases, out to get some groceries, though Reno will do.
It's not like knocking on an old girlfriend's house's door. There's no waiting while they get down from the bathroom and come to the door. A quick, surprised, "Come in!" floats out to me. Awake. Alert. Both almost surely spell trouble for me.
I reach for the knob. Can I go in? Can I truly go in and let her know what I know? "Murney de pantra." My hand twists he knob in a sudden, jerky movement, and the door pops open. Reno tries hard not to snicker from the shadows, letting me know there's no harm; I just needed to be persuaded.
I kick a hackey-sack -- there's no reason four twenty-some-year-olds can't have a little fun -- at him from the floor and slowly creep into her room. I leave the door open. In the event she strikes me, I'm running. She's got her finger in the book, laying in bed with the nightstand light on.
Beautiful.
She must know I love her. The way she looks at me every day, just asking me to say something. I try my best to do the same, but apparently, I'm not too good with body language. I glide over to the bed as best as possible, trying not to let sweat bead on my forehead, and take a seat. She doesn't object, just pats my knee and smiles, like every other time I've come in. "What, can't sleep?"
"Kinda. Freaked Reno'll try to punch me awake tomorrow morning." We're a family that speaks only in sarcasticness. Very few serious statements have been exchanged in a natural conversation around here. "You remember what happened at Kala's about a week ago, right?" We never speak directly on such a thing. We're like school children at the prom. The unspoken hints bobbing around the air.
"Seeing as how you wouldn't have to ask if I remembered the Junon thing, yeah, I assume I do." She props herself up against the pillows and furrows her brows. "Why, what's wrong?"
What's wrong? Hm, to start off, Reno's a Jenova and we're going to be parents in about nine months. G'night. I reach out and take her hand. I'm going completely off of the movies I've seen. "Aeris. . ." And I almost choke. Almost. Then I can see Reno in my mind's eye, shaking his head and slapping me pretty damn hard for being a moron. "Reno talked to me and told me something I think you should know. . ."
I can't figure out for the life of me why she suddenly starts smiling and presses a finger to my lips, then removing it and replacing it with her own. When she breaks away a few seconds later, I must have the most confused look ony my face, because she almost laughs when she slides her arms around my neck. "I know."
She knows, She knows and she's looking ready to stab me in the back. When you're a kid, your god is the one your parents tell you is your god. But when you hit a certain age, twenty or so I guess, you have to pick your own. Right about now, I just pick Reno's name off the top of my head since I missed my choosing point, and silently pray to him she's okay with it.
"He talked to me first." Lousy, all-knowing bastard. Keeping his secrets, too, hm?
I try not to look like an absolute geek by placing my arms around her waist and shifting to sit better on the bed. Easy to attack, but looking cool with the situation. I hope. "And. . ." I prod.
She's still smiling. A good sign or a bad sign, I don't know, but I'll interperet it as the first just to be at ease with what she's about to tell me. She pulls herself up to me and kisses me again; but this time, she doesn't pull away for quite some time, and when that does happen, "someone" has already shut off the lights and closed the door for us.
Maybe this won't be so bad.
-=End=-
Author's Note: Well, I planned for this to be kinda-semi-bad, since I'm more of a gunfight person. The last scene, anyway. Otherwise, I think I did pretty well for my first long AeriSeph. Book Two will be out whenever I happen to get around to it. The extras are up directly after this chapter, and I hope you don't miss this one entirely. So, until next Fic. . .
"When someone walks up to you and quotes a line from you story, and I mean a total stranger that you know only by face, you know you've got something."
Silver Rose
by Reno Spiegel
Dante@towernetwork.net
December 13, 3076
Evening. Hallway. Turk Headquarters. 9:56 P.M.
"Turk Headquarters, Aeris speaking." - Aeris, Turk HQ
Aeris and I aren't Turks, and neither is the new man. Yet Aeris, he, and I are living in the Turk headquarters with Reno and Rude somewhere near Holzoff's cabin in the Great Glacier. We're living here because Reno took us here and we have nowehere else to go or be. So we're doing odd jobs. I'm an assistant for when they have a big mission, which hasn't come up yet, Aeris is a kind of secretary, and the new man, Cloud Strife of Nibelheim, is quickly training me in the arts of fighting with a sword. Reno swears he'll teach me, when he has a moment, how to harness the power of the whole changing-into-an-angel thing.
Right now, I'm standing in the hallway, talking to him. Starting with myself, in hushed voices, it's going something like this:
"You knew first. You should do it."
"She ain't mine."
". . .Fair enough, but I'm no good at these things."
"Speak from the heart, Grasshopper."
He's got jokes. Reassuring, to an extent. "At least watch me and make sure I don't fuck up?"
"You don't want me to do that."
"Why?"
"See these scars on my cheeks?"
"Yeah."
"How do you think I got 'em?"
Hell if I know. "Gang-fight?"
"Told my old girlfriend and proposed in the same sentence."
"Ow."
"Exactly. Go for it."
He leans against the wall and jerks his head at the door. Aeris' door. She should be laying down, reading one of her paperback novels right about now. We're closer in the past week than we were, but still not up to the point of sharing a room and whatnot. The headquarters is almost a large shack. Pizza boxes and beer cans in the main room, most on the floor, and no one cares. The dishes are piling up in the sink to the point of looking like a tower, and we wash them once a week, or when we run out.
And no one cares.
This place is home now, and these people are family. We all have schedules, we all respect each other, and we all look out for whoever needs it. We have ample money, frankly we could go out and buy the old ShinRa Mansion without breaking a sweat, but we like it here. We're attached to the five-bedroom, trashy, could-be-beautiful place. Speaking of ShinRa, they don't even look for me anymore. Reno bribed them to call off the search.
Kala herself said, in a backstage interview I have on disc in my cabinet, "Watch your back like you'll die in seconds. Fight like you'll live for eternity."
Reno, Rude, Cloud, Aeris and I are all fighters, outcasts from the pool of society thrown together by an odd twist of fate and given the tolerance, just enough of it, to stand each other and each others' annoying little habits. Like Cloud's sharpening of his knives. And Reno's beer-breath that never seems to cease. Aeris insists on turning off the lights when everyone's asleep, and Rude is so forgetful he can't remember where the remote went half the time, even when it's in his hand. Me, I always turn something on, be it the stove, radio, or sink, and walk right out of the room as if it were nothing.
But somehow, we cope. And we, as much as possible, have grown to almost-love each other and the idiotic ways we do things in just a week.
". . .Alright."
I step up to the door and give it two hard knocks. Reno sinks back into the corner, just within earshot of her room, and gives me a thumbs-up. No fooling around now. This is when it gets serious and I need all the support I can get. Unfortunately, Rude and Cloud took the snow-riders, our newest purchases, out to get some groceries, though Reno will do.
It's not like knocking on an old girlfriend's house's door. There's no waiting while they get down from the bathroom and come to the door. A quick, surprised, "Come in!" floats out to me. Awake. Alert. Both almost surely spell trouble for me.
I reach for the knob. Can I go in? Can I truly go in and let her know what I know? "Murney de pantra." My hand twists he knob in a sudden, jerky movement, and the door pops open. Reno tries hard not to snicker from the shadows, letting me know there's no harm; I just needed to be persuaded.
I kick a hackey-sack -- there's no reason four twenty-some-year-olds can't have a little fun -- at him from the floor and slowly creep into her room. I leave the door open. In the event she strikes me, I'm running. She's got her finger in the book, laying in bed with the nightstand light on.
Beautiful.
She must know I love her. The way she looks at me every day, just asking me to say something. I try my best to do the same, but apparently, I'm not too good with body language. I glide over to the bed as best as possible, trying not to let sweat bead on my forehead, and take a seat. She doesn't object, just pats my knee and smiles, like every other time I've come in. "What, can't sleep?"
"Kinda. Freaked Reno'll try to punch me awake tomorrow morning." We're a family that speaks only in sarcasticness. Very few serious statements have been exchanged in a natural conversation around here. "You remember what happened at Kala's about a week ago, right?" We never speak directly on such a thing. We're like school children at the prom. The unspoken hints bobbing around the air.
"Seeing as how you wouldn't have to ask if I remembered the Junon thing, yeah, I assume I do." She props herself up against the pillows and furrows her brows. "Why, what's wrong?"
What's wrong? Hm, to start off, Reno's a Jenova and we're going to be parents in about nine months. G'night. I reach out and take her hand. I'm going completely off of the movies I've seen. "Aeris. . ." And I almost choke. Almost. Then I can see Reno in my mind's eye, shaking his head and slapping me pretty damn hard for being a moron. "Reno talked to me and told me something I think you should know. . ."
I can't figure out for the life of me why she suddenly starts smiling and presses a finger to my lips, then removing it and replacing it with her own. When she breaks away a few seconds later, I must have the most confused look ony my face, because she almost laughs when she slides her arms around my neck. "I know."
She knows, She knows and she's looking ready to stab me in the back. When you're a kid, your god is the one your parents tell you is your god. But when you hit a certain age, twenty or so I guess, you have to pick your own. Right about now, I just pick Reno's name off the top of my head since I missed my choosing point, and silently pray to him she's okay with it.
"He talked to me first." Lousy, all-knowing bastard. Keeping his secrets, too, hm?
I try not to look like an absolute geek by placing my arms around her waist and shifting to sit better on the bed. Easy to attack, but looking cool with the situation. I hope. "And. . ." I prod.
She's still smiling. A good sign or a bad sign, I don't know, but I'll interperet it as the first just to be at ease with what she's about to tell me. She pulls herself up to me and kisses me again; but this time, she doesn't pull away for quite some time, and when that does happen, "someone" has already shut off the lights and closed the door for us.
Maybe this won't be so bad.
-=End=-
Author's Note: Well, I planned for this to be kinda-semi-bad, since I'm more of a gunfight person. The last scene, anyway. Otherwise, I think I did pretty well for my first long AeriSeph. Book Two will be out whenever I happen to get around to it. The extras are up directly after this chapter, and I hope you don't miss this one entirely. So, until next Fic. . .
"When someone walks up to you and quotes a line from you story, and I mean a total stranger that you know only by face, you know you've got something."