Chaotic Marionette
Death to the Training Dummy
*I don't own anything blah blah blah. Kefka realizes his two options in life, neither of which seem to make sense to him. Enjoy the second chapter. ^^*
"I'm sorry sir. It's just that this experiment seems to have failed. He can't do anything he's supposed to be able to do. Sure, he's wonderful at being destructive, and he's abnormally strong compared to someone of the same age but aside from that... nothing."
The Emperor listened to Cid disdainfully. The failure of this project would mean 17 years and irreplaceable resources wasted. "I thought you designed him with a fail safe."
Cid cringed. He hated to think what the Emperor was suggesting he do. "Well..." he stopped and took a long breath, "not exactly, your Highness. He has a secondary function, yes, but he'd have to be invalidated first."
Gehstal glared at the ruddy scientist. "I'm not pleased, Cid."
"I know, sir. If I can just have a week or two..."
"Fine, but I want this business over and done with before the magistrates arrive. He'll either use magic or join the Espers. Do you understand?"
"Yes sir."
Kefka felt sick. He stumbled out of the corridor and down the stairs away from the throne room. He didn't like to eavesdrop normally. People were boring and he never cared much for their secrets, but he just hadn't been able to resist. He wished he had not heard any of the horrible discussion in the throne room. The relic was going to try and off him before he got his revenge. At first he'd been terrified, then he was just sick. He took the turns of the palace blindly and lost his footing as a hallway became a staircase. He tumbled into dark oblivion, finally stopping flat on his face. Kefka pushed himself off of the cold metal floor and held his bleeding nose. His sickness melted away into seething rage as he noticed the portrait of Gehstal staring back at him from the opposite wall. *I'll use magic you f***** up piece of slime. I'll make you wish I was never born.* He raised to his feet and exited the room, all of his hatred focused on the poorly done profile in the room behind him.
It was at one time thought that the palace was haunted. Strange fires had begun to spread at unexplainable times. They never hurt anyone, just whatever had been on fire in the first place. The palace guards were shaken and nervous and maids begged for leave to their homes. Magistrates were asked stay in their homelands until the mystery was cleared up. But the fires died off after a few weeks. Small sections of the throne room had to be refurbished, the armory restocked, and pieces of art had to be replaced with new paintings. But soon the palace quieted down and tensions were forgotten. The fires had given longer time for preparations for the arrival of ambassadors from several states. Few people still wondered what had happened, but few made any effort to find out.
"This is the last time we're gonna try this, son," Cid sighed at the young man beside him. The pair entered one of the interior training rooms that had been closed off from the army especially for this use.
Kefka sighed at the insistence of the pudgy little man. "I can't do this."
"Just try! Please... I don't like..." Cid trailed off, not wanting to admit the certainty of the coming doom of his creation.
Kefka gazed woefully at the battered dummy. He felt his impending end closing in around him in the tiny room. He'd always viewed the hay man as a play thing, until now. Today it was his mocking and very real opponent. The rough burlap seemed like impenetrable armor and the busted broomstick tethered to it's 'arm' was his worst nightmare. Today it was him or his scarecrow adversary, and the sinking in his stomach said he didn't have a chance. *I'm going to die... That basterd is going to kill me and use me to power his f****** seat warmer because I can't DESTROY A TRAINING DUMMY?! This is ridiculous... that dirty man whore couldn't fight his way out of a wet paper bag. I should just go up there and kill him-*
The door behind him slammed shut, making both Cid and himself jump. Kefka glanced over his shoulder even though he knew what he'd see. Emperor Gehstal was a few steps behind Cid with his brow furrowed in exasperated impatience. "Well Kefka, we haven't got all day. Get on with it, or should we just deem you a failure and move on with our lives?"
Kefka scowled to himself and went back to staring down the dummy. *He's already celebrating my death... Well it isn't going to happen. I'm not dying unless that a** goes first. I refuse... The new order must be established if this world is to survive...*
"Hurry up, Plazzao."
Kefka's thoughts circulated somewhere far beyond the room and he lost all focus on the overgrown rag doll in front of him. He receded into a very cold place. His body almost seemed to shut off. Cid became worried as Kefka became intensely still. The Emperor tapped his foot and sighed.
"That's it Cid. No more. He is a failure. His services will be terminated after the ambassadors leave. The fires gave you a two week extension and it was all for nothing. I expect you to attend to all of the programs that you have let slip. I also expect that mediocre waste of flesh to be kept out of my sight. Do you understand?"
Cid hung his head and nodded drearily. "Of course, sir..."
*... services will be terminated... I'm going to die...* The room focused into painful detail as the door shut with eerie finality. He looked speechlessly to his creator, who was trying desperately to avoid looking back.
"I'm sorry Kefka Plazzao." With that Cid left the young man standing in the tiny room with his conqueror.
The filthy rag man was laughing at him. It was a horrible grating laugh that echoed in his head and frightened him. The dummy would have been rolling on the floor if it had been a person. But it could only laugh and jeer now. It had defeated him without a fight and now it had the last laugh, just like the Emperor. Fiery tears choked Kefka's vision as he turned to his enemy with every ounce malice and brutal hatred he possesed in his body.
There was another fire that day.
Death to the Training Dummy
*I don't own anything blah blah blah. Kefka realizes his two options in life, neither of which seem to make sense to him. Enjoy the second chapter. ^^*
"I'm sorry sir. It's just that this experiment seems to have failed. He can't do anything he's supposed to be able to do. Sure, he's wonderful at being destructive, and he's abnormally strong compared to someone of the same age but aside from that... nothing."
The Emperor listened to Cid disdainfully. The failure of this project would mean 17 years and irreplaceable resources wasted. "I thought you designed him with a fail safe."
Cid cringed. He hated to think what the Emperor was suggesting he do. "Well..." he stopped and took a long breath, "not exactly, your Highness. He has a secondary function, yes, but he'd have to be invalidated first."
Gehstal glared at the ruddy scientist. "I'm not pleased, Cid."
"I know, sir. If I can just have a week or two..."
"Fine, but I want this business over and done with before the magistrates arrive. He'll either use magic or join the Espers. Do you understand?"
"Yes sir."
Kefka felt sick. He stumbled out of the corridor and down the stairs away from the throne room. He didn't like to eavesdrop normally. People were boring and he never cared much for their secrets, but he just hadn't been able to resist. He wished he had not heard any of the horrible discussion in the throne room. The relic was going to try and off him before he got his revenge. At first he'd been terrified, then he was just sick. He took the turns of the palace blindly and lost his footing as a hallway became a staircase. He tumbled into dark oblivion, finally stopping flat on his face. Kefka pushed himself off of the cold metal floor and held his bleeding nose. His sickness melted away into seething rage as he noticed the portrait of Gehstal staring back at him from the opposite wall. *I'll use magic you f***** up piece of slime. I'll make you wish I was never born.* He raised to his feet and exited the room, all of his hatred focused on the poorly done profile in the room behind him.
It was at one time thought that the palace was haunted. Strange fires had begun to spread at unexplainable times. They never hurt anyone, just whatever had been on fire in the first place. The palace guards were shaken and nervous and maids begged for leave to their homes. Magistrates were asked stay in their homelands until the mystery was cleared up. But the fires died off after a few weeks. Small sections of the throne room had to be refurbished, the armory restocked, and pieces of art had to be replaced with new paintings. But soon the palace quieted down and tensions were forgotten. The fires had given longer time for preparations for the arrival of ambassadors from several states. Few people still wondered what had happened, but few made any effort to find out.
"This is the last time we're gonna try this, son," Cid sighed at the young man beside him. The pair entered one of the interior training rooms that had been closed off from the army especially for this use.
Kefka sighed at the insistence of the pudgy little man. "I can't do this."
"Just try! Please... I don't like..." Cid trailed off, not wanting to admit the certainty of the coming doom of his creation.
Kefka gazed woefully at the battered dummy. He felt his impending end closing in around him in the tiny room. He'd always viewed the hay man as a play thing, until now. Today it was his mocking and very real opponent. The rough burlap seemed like impenetrable armor and the busted broomstick tethered to it's 'arm' was his worst nightmare. Today it was him or his scarecrow adversary, and the sinking in his stomach said he didn't have a chance. *I'm going to die... That basterd is going to kill me and use me to power his f****** seat warmer because I can't DESTROY A TRAINING DUMMY?! This is ridiculous... that dirty man whore couldn't fight his way out of a wet paper bag. I should just go up there and kill him-*
The door behind him slammed shut, making both Cid and himself jump. Kefka glanced over his shoulder even though he knew what he'd see. Emperor Gehstal was a few steps behind Cid with his brow furrowed in exasperated impatience. "Well Kefka, we haven't got all day. Get on with it, or should we just deem you a failure and move on with our lives?"
Kefka scowled to himself and went back to staring down the dummy. *He's already celebrating my death... Well it isn't going to happen. I'm not dying unless that a** goes first. I refuse... The new order must be established if this world is to survive...*
"Hurry up, Plazzao."
Kefka's thoughts circulated somewhere far beyond the room and he lost all focus on the overgrown rag doll in front of him. He receded into a very cold place. His body almost seemed to shut off. Cid became worried as Kefka became intensely still. The Emperor tapped his foot and sighed.
"That's it Cid. No more. He is a failure. His services will be terminated after the ambassadors leave. The fires gave you a two week extension and it was all for nothing. I expect you to attend to all of the programs that you have let slip. I also expect that mediocre waste of flesh to be kept out of my sight. Do you understand?"
Cid hung his head and nodded drearily. "Of course, sir..."
*... services will be terminated... I'm going to die...* The room focused into painful detail as the door shut with eerie finality. He looked speechlessly to his creator, who was trying desperately to avoid looking back.
"I'm sorry Kefka Plazzao." With that Cid left the young man standing in the tiny room with his conqueror.
The filthy rag man was laughing at him. It was a horrible grating laugh that echoed in his head and frightened him. The dummy would have been rolling on the floor if it had been a person. But it could only laugh and jeer now. It had defeated him without a fight and now it had the last laugh, just like the Emperor. Fiery tears choked Kefka's vision as he turned to his enemy with every ounce malice and brutal hatred he possesed in his body.
There was another fire that day.