~
"And not only does Trabia need...no, not need...uhm, *require!* Not only does Trabia require *financial* assistance, but...but...oh, I need *sleep!*"
Selphie plopped down on the small loveseat in her quarters. "How do public speakers *do* it?" she sighed, tossing a notepad on the floor, and rubbing her eyes. "Think convincing, think convincing!"
Her attention wandered to a small radio on her table. A carefully- constructed techno track reverberated from it, as best as the little speaker could provide, and filled the room. "Hey!" cried Selphie. "Fadeaway!' Wow, that song's like ten years old! Wonder who requested it?"
"Hey hey!" an annoying radio personality cut in, as the song hit its end. "You're tuned in to 'Shot at Fame,' the local show here on Galbadia Cable Radio! We transmit every weeknight, from eleven to one-thirty..."
She glanced at the digital clock beside her radio. Twelve fifteen.
"And our goal is to get some smalltown kids recognized for the true musicians they really are! Well, *some* of them, most of them just *suck,* but whaddaya gonna do? They get a shot too."
That's not very nice, thought Selphie with a frown.
The deejay continued, as she sighed tiredly. "Anywhoo, that last track was a trip down memory lane for you oldschoolers! Local remix of "Fadeaway," by a dude named Aren Bowes. The verdict: Mix us a little *talent,* and maybe we'll play you again, buddy."
She growled, and slumped upright, drudging to the radio. "What a bunch of losers! I thought his song was really good!" She flipped the radio off, but stopped short, and snapped her finger. "Wait, did he say Aren Bowes? That's *him!* Cool, he's even a musician!"
Sighing, she reached to the floor and snatched the paper back up. "Daydream later, sister! I got a speach to write! Okay, here we go...'Financial assistance, but several SeeDs are needed for the...the *task* of cleansing the town of monsters...'"
~
"As well as for protection from outside forces. With Garden no longer a presence in Trabia, area pirate groups are becoming a real threat."
Selphie riffled through pieces of notebook paper as she trotted quickly down the hall. She muttered portions of the writing under her breath. A frilled sheet left the pile as she ran, and floated to the ground. She bent down to pick it up. But a steel-toed boot slammed it down before her hand could reach.
A tall, red-haired SeeD student bore down on her. He was rather young- looking, perhaps fifteen, but massively built and imposing. A torn black shirt and tattered jeans adorned him, as well as various metal studs, piercings, and chains. Three other cadets, similarly dressed, stood beside him, laughing. The boot slowly lifted, and she reached again, but it stomped back down.
"Come on," Selphie said angrily, "cut it out! You want me to report you?"
"Ooh! She's gonna *report* me!" the bully scoffed with his friends. "Whatchyou doin' here?"
"I'm meeting with the headmaster, and I need that!"
"What, this?" He rubbed the paper into the floor. "Come on, get it!"
Selphie growled angrily, and reached for her back pocket, but her weapons were not there. She sighed dejectedly.
"I was wrong, guys," said the bully. "It ain't her. She'd have done something by now."
His smirk soon disappeared. In a jolting convulsion, he screamed in sudden pain, grasping his temples with open palms. His companions stepped back, and watched uneasily. Selphie cocked a curious eye.
Aren stepped up from behind the group. "Is there a problem, Selphie?" he asked in a soft, quiet whisper.
"Aaaugh!!" the bully jerked back his head, and fell to his knees. Selphie scrambled up, backing away.
Aren bent down, his back turned to her, and looked the writhing student in the eye. "Aw, what's wrong?" he said quietly. "It hurts?"
"Augh, stop! It hurts, it hurts!"
"Yeah, know what that is?" Aren's black shades stayed focused on the young man's wide eyes. It's your eardrums ready to pop. And know what else?"
He paused, and reached for the sunglasses. Selphie craned her neck to see around his turned back. She watched him bring a finger to his shades, and tip them down. The bully gasped and jumped back. Selphie raised a puzzled eyebrow.
The shades went back, Aren put a hand to his side. "If I whisper just a little louder, you'll go deaf. But...what if I yell? Or even cough? You know, I think I feel a sneeze coming on..."
"N-no! Please, I'm sorry!"
"Good boy. You better go pick up your pride, pal, it's all over the floor."
Aren shoved him over and picked up the note. The cadet scrambled to his feet, moaning and covering his ears. He took off down the hall with his bewildered friends.
"Nothing worse than a cocky trainee," said Aren, turning to Selphie and handing the paper to her. "Guess they recognized you. They're pretty tough around here."
Selphie took the note. "Thanks. What'd you do to him?"
"Just messed with his head a little. He'll recover fine."
"So, it was magic? Like a time-space spell?"
Aren laughed. "Oh, jeez no! Me and magic don't get along at *all!*"
"I see." Selphie began down the hall. She looked over her shoulder and nudged her head. "Walk with me?"
"Sure," Aren stepped in beside her. "I keep away from magic, don't use it at all."
"Oh, me either," said Selphie. "Well, I used to. I had a Guardian Force for a while, but I let it go. I hated the thought of losing my memory, forgetting my friends...I dunno, it just scared me."
Aren brushed his long hair forward. "I don't blame you. Irvine got rid of his, too."
"I know," replied Selphie. "We did it at the same time, way back in the day. At least they let us keep our SeeD licenses. No battling, though. So how'd you lose *your* GF?"
"Me? I never had one. I passed the test without one."
Selphie looked to his shaded eyes. "What? How'd you pass the test without magic?"
"Well, I fight my own way. There's a little magic involved, I guess, but no Guardian Force. It's kinda hard to explain."
"Hmm," Selphie pondered. "Magic without a GF! Wow, that is so cool!" She rounded a corner, and Aren followed at her side. "So, you're a SeeD? Where from?"
"Terra Garden," said Aren. "But I grew up in Galbadia. I'm surprised though, I don't know a while lot of people here. How 'bout you?"
Selphie sighed. "I'm from Trabia."
"Oh," Aren winced, "wow, I'm...really sorry."
She quickly picked herself up. "Aw, it's not your fault! And you know, things're really starting to look up!"
Aren's black hair carried some in the wind; he quickly brushed it back down. "Well *that's* good news!"
"Sure is! They're rebuilding the city hall, and more people are getting out of the shelters and into some decent homes."
"They must've gotten hit pretty hard," said Aren. "Were you talking about some sort of funding for Trabia, the other day?"
"Mm-hmm! I'm meeting with the headmaster today, in fact. Trabia...well, we just need support. I've really gotta go back with some money. Boy, am I nervous!"
The young man smiled, and raised some cheerful eyebrows behind his dark shades. "You'll do fine. You've got a terriffic speaking voice."
Selphie looked up, and beamed a cheerful smile. "Really? Thanks!"
They reached the spacious cafeteria. At a far table, Irvine waved with his black cowboy hat. Aren and Selphie waved back.
"Listen," said Aren, "I can't stay, I've got a little work to do."
"Oh!" Selphie frowned. "I really wish you could! We'll talk again, right?"
"Oh sure, we've all still got to go out, remember?"
Selphie nodded. "Right! And thanks again, I've really got to start carrying my nunchaku."
Aren started off. "No prob. Good luck on the proposal!"
~
"And not only does Trabia need...no, not need...uhm, *require!* Not only does Trabia require *financial* assistance, but...but...oh, I need *sleep!*"
Selphie plopped down on the small loveseat in her quarters. "How do public speakers *do* it?" she sighed, tossing a notepad on the floor, and rubbing her eyes. "Think convincing, think convincing!"
Her attention wandered to a small radio on her table. A carefully- constructed techno track reverberated from it, as best as the little speaker could provide, and filled the room. "Hey!" cried Selphie. "Fadeaway!' Wow, that song's like ten years old! Wonder who requested it?"
"Hey hey!" an annoying radio personality cut in, as the song hit its end. "You're tuned in to 'Shot at Fame,' the local show here on Galbadia Cable Radio! We transmit every weeknight, from eleven to one-thirty..."
She glanced at the digital clock beside her radio. Twelve fifteen.
"And our goal is to get some smalltown kids recognized for the true musicians they really are! Well, *some* of them, most of them just *suck,* but whaddaya gonna do? They get a shot too."
That's not very nice, thought Selphie with a frown.
The deejay continued, as she sighed tiredly. "Anywhoo, that last track was a trip down memory lane for you oldschoolers! Local remix of "Fadeaway," by a dude named Aren Bowes. The verdict: Mix us a little *talent,* and maybe we'll play you again, buddy."
She growled, and slumped upright, drudging to the radio. "What a bunch of losers! I thought his song was really good!" She flipped the radio off, but stopped short, and snapped her finger. "Wait, did he say Aren Bowes? That's *him!* Cool, he's even a musician!"
Sighing, she reached to the floor and snatched the paper back up. "Daydream later, sister! I got a speach to write! Okay, here we go...'Financial assistance, but several SeeDs are needed for the...the *task* of cleansing the town of monsters...'"
~
"As well as for protection from outside forces. With Garden no longer a presence in Trabia, area pirate groups are becoming a real threat."
Selphie riffled through pieces of notebook paper as she trotted quickly down the hall. She muttered portions of the writing under her breath. A frilled sheet left the pile as she ran, and floated to the ground. She bent down to pick it up. But a steel-toed boot slammed it down before her hand could reach.
A tall, red-haired SeeD student bore down on her. He was rather young- looking, perhaps fifteen, but massively built and imposing. A torn black shirt and tattered jeans adorned him, as well as various metal studs, piercings, and chains. Three other cadets, similarly dressed, stood beside him, laughing. The boot slowly lifted, and she reached again, but it stomped back down.
"Come on," Selphie said angrily, "cut it out! You want me to report you?"
"Ooh! She's gonna *report* me!" the bully scoffed with his friends. "Whatchyou doin' here?"
"I'm meeting with the headmaster, and I need that!"
"What, this?" He rubbed the paper into the floor. "Come on, get it!"
Selphie growled angrily, and reached for her back pocket, but her weapons were not there. She sighed dejectedly.
"I was wrong, guys," said the bully. "It ain't her. She'd have done something by now."
His smirk soon disappeared. In a jolting convulsion, he screamed in sudden pain, grasping his temples with open palms. His companions stepped back, and watched uneasily. Selphie cocked a curious eye.
Aren stepped up from behind the group. "Is there a problem, Selphie?" he asked in a soft, quiet whisper.
"Aaaugh!!" the bully jerked back his head, and fell to his knees. Selphie scrambled up, backing away.
Aren bent down, his back turned to her, and looked the writhing student in the eye. "Aw, what's wrong?" he said quietly. "It hurts?"
"Augh, stop! It hurts, it hurts!"
"Yeah, know what that is?" Aren's black shades stayed focused on the young man's wide eyes. It's your eardrums ready to pop. And know what else?"
He paused, and reached for the sunglasses. Selphie craned her neck to see around his turned back. She watched him bring a finger to his shades, and tip them down. The bully gasped and jumped back. Selphie raised a puzzled eyebrow.
The shades went back, Aren put a hand to his side. "If I whisper just a little louder, you'll go deaf. But...what if I yell? Or even cough? You know, I think I feel a sneeze coming on..."
"N-no! Please, I'm sorry!"
"Good boy. You better go pick up your pride, pal, it's all over the floor."
Aren shoved him over and picked up the note. The cadet scrambled to his feet, moaning and covering his ears. He took off down the hall with his bewildered friends.
"Nothing worse than a cocky trainee," said Aren, turning to Selphie and handing the paper to her. "Guess they recognized you. They're pretty tough around here."
Selphie took the note. "Thanks. What'd you do to him?"
"Just messed with his head a little. He'll recover fine."
"So, it was magic? Like a time-space spell?"
Aren laughed. "Oh, jeez no! Me and magic don't get along at *all!*"
"I see." Selphie began down the hall. She looked over her shoulder and nudged her head. "Walk with me?"
"Sure," Aren stepped in beside her. "I keep away from magic, don't use it at all."
"Oh, me either," said Selphie. "Well, I used to. I had a Guardian Force for a while, but I let it go. I hated the thought of losing my memory, forgetting my friends...I dunno, it just scared me."
Aren brushed his long hair forward. "I don't blame you. Irvine got rid of his, too."
"I know," replied Selphie. "We did it at the same time, way back in the day. At least they let us keep our SeeD licenses. No battling, though. So how'd you lose *your* GF?"
"Me? I never had one. I passed the test without one."
Selphie looked to his shaded eyes. "What? How'd you pass the test without magic?"
"Well, I fight my own way. There's a little magic involved, I guess, but no Guardian Force. It's kinda hard to explain."
"Hmm," Selphie pondered. "Magic without a GF! Wow, that is so cool!" She rounded a corner, and Aren followed at her side. "So, you're a SeeD? Where from?"
"Terra Garden," said Aren. "But I grew up in Galbadia. I'm surprised though, I don't know a while lot of people here. How 'bout you?"
Selphie sighed. "I'm from Trabia."
"Oh," Aren winced, "wow, I'm...really sorry."
She quickly picked herself up. "Aw, it's not your fault! And you know, things're really starting to look up!"
Aren's black hair carried some in the wind; he quickly brushed it back down. "Well *that's* good news!"
"Sure is! They're rebuilding the city hall, and more people are getting out of the shelters and into some decent homes."
"They must've gotten hit pretty hard," said Aren. "Were you talking about some sort of funding for Trabia, the other day?"
"Mm-hmm! I'm meeting with the headmaster today, in fact. Trabia...well, we just need support. I've really gotta go back with some money. Boy, am I nervous!"
The young man smiled, and raised some cheerful eyebrows behind his dark shades. "You'll do fine. You've got a terriffic speaking voice."
Selphie looked up, and beamed a cheerful smile. "Really? Thanks!"
They reached the spacious cafeteria. At a far table, Irvine waved with his black cowboy hat. Aren and Selphie waved back.
"Listen," said Aren, "I can't stay, I've got a little work to do."
"Oh!" Selphie frowned. "I really wish you could! We'll talk again, right?"
"Oh sure, we've all still got to go out, remember?"
Selphie nodded. "Right! And thanks again, I've really got to start carrying my nunchaku."
Aren started off. "No prob. Good luck on the proposal!"
~
