Author's Note:
I apologize for the long wait. I've been extremely busy lately... but I'm trying to keep updating. "Struggling" to keep updating, really... but anyhow. Neko, I feel your pain... My Pre-Algebra teacher hates me! She gave poor, unfortunate FoxFury detention. And she takes points off of my paper because I don't space things right. And because she thinks my variables are wrong... when it says "use x, y, OR a as variable." - ANGER!! Anyhow... thanks for hypnotizing me. I notice that you did that to Twilight's Star, too. Is this a new talent, or do you and PsycheFox have something in common? *glares at Natia* She tried to make me act like a chicken. She succeeded in making me eat chicken for dinner. She was mortified and called me a cannibal. I'm not particularly fond of vegetarians. I'd hate Natia if I hadn't met her through my stupid ex- boyfriend.
Steeple3x3, I think you're absolutely right. A yaoi fic is usually a pointless mess of guys who seem to think, "hey, you're kinda cute, mister! Let's have sex even though we're supposed to be straight!" *flinches as she realizes that Don't Love Me was very similar to that kind of fic* Ah, anyway... this chapter is somewhat ridiculously strange. It's just a way to keep my readers happy, and keep myself busy... and I have to work my @$$ off to get math done. *growls as she goes to work updating her fictionpress story*
DESERT PALACE (but you knew that... believe me, it will eventually change.)
When I woke up the next day, I heard water running. Bath water... Kuja must have been taking a shower. I could smell the same scent that I got a whiff of every time he was close... some kind of lavender. It left me in a somewhat dreamy state, staring at the distant ceiling. I heard him singing, and I smiled. He truly was very down-to-earth, even with his ethereal beauty. His voice was-very slightly-off-key, and he didn't even try to tone it down enough to hide it. I could hear him giggle slightly if he hit a high note wrongly. I sighed wistfully, again comparing him to Jani. He was so free-spirited. So open with others, so accepting of himself. Jani... Jani was always shy, and so self-conscious. It would have been interesting if the two had met. But then again... would Kuja have changed from a meeting with her? Why couldn't Janira have been like him...? I had only known Kuja for... not even three days, now... and already I felt as if he was an old friend. He was revealing himself, his past, to me; bit by bit. I had hardly even known my fiancé... obviously.... I heard a slight "ouch!" then the sound of something light dropping on the floor. I suppressed a laugh. Kuja must have cut himself shaving. I distinctly heard him grumbling to himself, then he continued to sing. Such a quick recovery. I chuckled to myself, realizing something I hadn't noticed before. Kuja was also a narcissist. A heady one, at that. The water was turned off.
After a few moments, the bathroom door opened, and Kuja emerged, wearing a dark violet silk robe. A kind of blue-violet faux fur rimmed the collar. The silvery waves spilled down his back as he straightened his feathers. I could see his bare feet and the last few inches of his ankles below the hem of his robe. Also, his shining silver tail peeked out, swishing languidly against the violet silk. He wasn't wearing makeup, with the exception of the slightest glimmer of lip gloss. He looked up at me through his dark lashes, smiling playfully. "You're staring again." he remarked, as he finished playing with the largest feather. "I find it hard to do otherwise," I replied, smiling back. He frowned slightly. "...I'd prefer if you'd stop talking like that." he noted. "Of course. I don't know what's gotten into me... I'm sorry." I said quietly, hating myself for saying something so tasteless. "Might I say one more thing?" I asked, looking up at him. He nodded, sitting in his usual place on the bed. Almost as if he belonged there. Almost like I didn't even exist... or as though I had always been there. "...You're even more ravishing than... my fiancé. You can't be anything other than an angel. Because... no one could ever be as gorgeous as you are and be a normal everyday person... you can't be imperfect." Kuja smiled sadly. "You're right... I was created to be perfect. I was the ideal Angel of Death... to some degree. I don't really know where I went wrong." he said quietly. I was silent, trying to think of something... anything... that could change the situation. I tucked an arm under his head. "I think Garland was the one who went wrong. Why don't you continue your story?" He smirked. "Quite a suggestion for someone who was groaning at the thought only two nights ago," I chuckled. "Well...?" I pushed, pulling him closer against me. He sighed, relaxing into the pillows.
=After I sent Zidane away... Garland promised me he'd make me pay. And I never doubted that he would. I avoided him, up until my eighteenth birthday. But you see, during this time, I was developing my natural Mage abilities. I was created with Black Magic, but I wasn't satisfied... I wanted more. So... I fought what Garland called my "boundaries", and struggled for three years to learn how to do White and Red Magic. It was hard... but I refused to believe that Garland was right. I had grown up hearing that I could only learn the basic Black Mage skills... oh, that made me furious. I knew I was capable of more... so much more. And as I said, I fought against what were supposed to be my maximum abilities. I know more magic than Garland does, and I taught myself.
On my seventeenth birthday, I accomplished more than I myself had ever expected. I learned Ultima. I fought my hardest to learn Flare Star, but instead... I achieved more than I had dreamed possible... I had never felt such pride in myself as I felt that day. But I also felt a strange sense of release... I had broken free of my master's control. He had no power over me any longer... I knew that no matter what, I could beat him. No matter what he threw at me, I could take it. I felt superior to everyone else in Bran Bal. Eventually, I began to change. I wanted to prove how very different I was. I changed the way I looked outside to match the perfection I felt inside. But over time, it wasn't enough anymore... because I felt empty. I had accomplished so much, but Garland never noticed it. I would have enjoyed it even if he had punished me for defying him and trying so hard... but he never even commented on it. He didn't even have a remark for me when I changed my outer appearance to further contrast myself from those without souls. I felt like a shadow... for even the other Genomes ignored me. It shouldn't have hurt me, because I knew enough to tell that their actions were the result of Garland's programming. But it bites as hard as a wound to know that no one cares... I did my best. A year later, Garland finally noticed me. I remember him saying '...You've changed.'. I wanted to slap him. After a whole year, he finally realized that I was different? All he was doing was flattering me. He needed an Angel of Death, and I was all he had.
** "...You've changed." the old man said, studying his creation carefully for the first time in what seemed a lifetime. The silver-haired boy continued forming level-1 spells in the palm of his hand, not looking up. Garland smirked. Kuja truly had become a piece of art-right below his very nose. Silver hair tumbling down his slightly arched back, feathers sweeping up gracefully from his feminine face. Dark eyes lit with the fire in his hand, but contained more of their own brilliance than did the spell. His face and body were relaxed; he was calling the spells effortlessly. He was much taller than the other Genomes; with long, well-suited limbs. His clothing revealed his midriff, which was thin and girlish. Kuja betrayed no agitation, apart from the angry twitch of his tail.
"Are you intending to answer me sometime today or tomorrow?" Garland inquired, watching Kuja closely. Dark-lashed eyes rolled up to face him. "I need to concentrate," Kuja said arrogantly. "You could have fooled me, boy." Garland said, standing and walking over to Kuja. "You call the spells as though they are a part of your own being... a part of your soul." "...I can hide frustration better than most people." The old man's eyebrows arched with amusement. "But how can you hide it quite so well when you cast spells as powerful as I can?" Kuja stuttered for a moment, unable to find words. "I am an actor. I can hide pain, frustration, pleasure... and I can cast spells that you don't even know!" the last words were a harsh whisper. "Kuja, you've changed since I last noticed you so closely. But why did you come to see me?" Garland asked, though he knew. "I've come to make sure you notice me. I'm sick of being invisible." the silver teenager said flatly. "Well. I've noticed you. Now leave, I have more important things to do." Kuja snorted slightly. "What about the years you used to beat me if I wasn't around? Or even if I was?" Garland paused. How could he remember that? It had been when he was less than five years old... "You have a decent memory." the old man said gently. He had to have Kuja's trust! Sending a servant to Gaia who didn't have a strong reliance on him could result in disaster...
"You're right, Garland, I do have a good memory. I remember everything. And I don't forgive what I can't forget." **
He wasn't happy to find that he couldn't use me like he had planned. He had to fight it out of me, and that didn't really happen until I was almost twenty-one years old. I refused to accept that he was my master, after all that he had done to me. I was far too independent for him to do that. And he noticed it, too! When I finally agreed to come to Gaia, it was for my own benefit, not his. I wanted the power of the Eidolons, I wanted to defeat him with the power he feared the most. But it wasn't possible to go to Gaia without his permission, without having a decent reason for being there. I accepted his mission.=
I stared at Kuja for a moment, wondering exactly who he was... and what his purpose for being here was. "Kuja... you're not going... to harm me, are you?" I asked, receiving a hurt look. "...I need someone who trusts me... can't you trust me...?" he asked, and I know I saw him fighting tears. Gods, but he was beautiful. I tugged his warm body against me, trying to comfort my strange friend. "I trust you. But don't you dare betray that trust. I want to kill myself... don't take the pleasure away." I felt him laugh weakly against my chest. "...Thank you." he said softly, closing his eyes. Honestly, that man slept so much it was insane. And yet... he was so gorgeous asleep. It seemed to be the only place he could find honest comfort. I sighed. It was mid morning, and he was going back to sleep. What was I going to do with the rest of my day...? Sleep, obviously... sleep and dream.
...And dreams can take you to the strangest places.
...like Kuja's past, for instance.
Author's Note: *shy look* Well... that wasn't as bad as it could have been... I've had a serious case of writer's block lately, and I haven't had the time to get rid of it. I hate Pre-Algebra. '~'
I apologize for the long wait. I've been extremely busy lately... but I'm trying to keep updating. "Struggling" to keep updating, really... but anyhow. Neko, I feel your pain... My Pre-Algebra teacher hates me! She gave poor, unfortunate FoxFury detention. And she takes points off of my paper because I don't space things right. And because she thinks my variables are wrong... when it says "use x, y, OR a as variable." - ANGER!! Anyhow... thanks for hypnotizing me. I notice that you did that to Twilight's Star, too. Is this a new talent, or do you and PsycheFox have something in common? *glares at Natia* She tried to make me act like a chicken. She succeeded in making me eat chicken for dinner. She was mortified and called me a cannibal. I'm not particularly fond of vegetarians. I'd hate Natia if I hadn't met her through my stupid ex- boyfriend.
Steeple3x3, I think you're absolutely right. A yaoi fic is usually a pointless mess of guys who seem to think, "hey, you're kinda cute, mister! Let's have sex even though we're supposed to be straight!" *flinches as she realizes that Don't Love Me was very similar to that kind of fic* Ah, anyway... this chapter is somewhat ridiculously strange. It's just a way to keep my readers happy, and keep myself busy... and I have to work my @$$ off to get math done. *growls as she goes to work updating her fictionpress story*
DESERT PALACE (but you knew that... believe me, it will eventually change.)
When I woke up the next day, I heard water running. Bath water... Kuja must have been taking a shower. I could smell the same scent that I got a whiff of every time he was close... some kind of lavender. It left me in a somewhat dreamy state, staring at the distant ceiling. I heard him singing, and I smiled. He truly was very down-to-earth, even with his ethereal beauty. His voice was-very slightly-off-key, and he didn't even try to tone it down enough to hide it. I could hear him giggle slightly if he hit a high note wrongly. I sighed wistfully, again comparing him to Jani. He was so free-spirited. So open with others, so accepting of himself. Jani... Jani was always shy, and so self-conscious. It would have been interesting if the two had met. But then again... would Kuja have changed from a meeting with her? Why couldn't Janira have been like him...? I had only known Kuja for... not even three days, now... and already I felt as if he was an old friend. He was revealing himself, his past, to me; bit by bit. I had hardly even known my fiancé... obviously.... I heard a slight "ouch!" then the sound of something light dropping on the floor. I suppressed a laugh. Kuja must have cut himself shaving. I distinctly heard him grumbling to himself, then he continued to sing. Such a quick recovery. I chuckled to myself, realizing something I hadn't noticed before. Kuja was also a narcissist. A heady one, at that. The water was turned off.
After a few moments, the bathroom door opened, and Kuja emerged, wearing a dark violet silk robe. A kind of blue-violet faux fur rimmed the collar. The silvery waves spilled down his back as he straightened his feathers. I could see his bare feet and the last few inches of his ankles below the hem of his robe. Also, his shining silver tail peeked out, swishing languidly against the violet silk. He wasn't wearing makeup, with the exception of the slightest glimmer of lip gloss. He looked up at me through his dark lashes, smiling playfully. "You're staring again." he remarked, as he finished playing with the largest feather. "I find it hard to do otherwise," I replied, smiling back. He frowned slightly. "...I'd prefer if you'd stop talking like that." he noted. "Of course. I don't know what's gotten into me... I'm sorry." I said quietly, hating myself for saying something so tasteless. "Might I say one more thing?" I asked, looking up at him. He nodded, sitting in his usual place on the bed. Almost as if he belonged there. Almost like I didn't even exist... or as though I had always been there. "...You're even more ravishing than... my fiancé. You can't be anything other than an angel. Because... no one could ever be as gorgeous as you are and be a normal everyday person... you can't be imperfect." Kuja smiled sadly. "You're right... I was created to be perfect. I was the ideal Angel of Death... to some degree. I don't really know where I went wrong." he said quietly. I was silent, trying to think of something... anything... that could change the situation. I tucked an arm under his head. "I think Garland was the one who went wrong. Why don't you continue your story?" He smirked. "Quite a suggestion for someone who was groaning at the thought only two nights ago," I chuckled. "Well...?" I pushed, pulling him closer against me. He sighed, relaxing into the pillows.
=After I sent Zidane away... Garland promised me he'd make me pay. And I never doubted that he would. I avoided him, up until my eighteenth birthday. But you see, during this time, I was developing my natural Mage abilities. I was created with Black Magic, but I wasn't satisfied... I wanted more. So... I fought what Garland called my "boundaries", and struggled for three years to learn how to do White and Red Magic. It was hard... but I refused to believe that Garland was right. I had grown up hearing that I could only learn the basic Black Mage skills... oh, that made me furious. I knew I was capable of more... so much more. And as I said, I fought against what were supposed to be my maximum abilities. I know more magic than Garland does, and I taught myself.
On my seventeenth birthday, I accomplished more than I myself had ever expected. I learned Ultima. I fought my hardest to learn Flare Star, but instead... I achieved more than I had dreamed possible... I had never felt such pride in myself as I felt that day. But I also felt a strange sense of release... I had broken free of my master's control. He had no power over me any longer... I knew that no matter what, I could beat him. No matter what he threw at me, I could take it. I felt superior to everyone else in Bran Bal. Eventually, I began to change. I wanted to prove how very different I was. I changed the way I looked outside to match the perfection I felt inside. But over time, it wasn't enough anymore... because I felt empty. I had accomplished so much, but Garland never noticed it. I would have enjoyed it even if he had punished me for defying him and trying so hard... but he never even commented on it. He didn't even have a remark for me when I changed my outer appearance to further contrast myself from those without souls. I felt like a shadow... for even the other Genomes ignored me. It shouldn't have hurt me, because I knew enough to tell that their actions were the result of Garland's programming. But it bites as hard as a wound to know that no one cares... I did my best. A year later, Garland finally noticed me. I remember him saying '...You've changed.'. I wanted to slap him. After a whole year, he finally realized that I was different? All he was doing was flattering me. He needed an Angel of Death, and I was all he had.
** "...You've changed." the old man said, studying his creation carefully for the first time in what seemed a lifetime. The silver-haired boy continued forming level-1 spells in the palm of his hand, not looking up. Garland smirked. Kuja truly had become a piece of art-right below his very nose. Silver hair tumbling down his slightly arched back, feathers sweeping up gracefully from his feminine face. Dark eyes lit with the fire in his hand, but contained more of their own brilliance than did the spell. His face and body were relaxed; he was calling the spells effortlessly. He was much taller than the other Genomes; with long, well-suited limbs. His clothing revealed his midriff, which was thin and girlish. Kuja betrayed no agitation, apart from the angry twitch of his tail.
"Are you intending to answer me sometime today or tomorrow?" Garland inquired, watching Kuja closely. Dark-lashed eyes rolled up to face him. "I need to concentrate," Kuja said arrogantly. "You could have fooled me, boy." Garland said, standing and walking over to Kuja. "You call the spells as though they are a part of your own being... a part of your soul." "...I can hide frustration better than most people." The old man's eyebrows arched with amusement. "But how can you hide it quite so well when you cast spells as powerful as I can?" Kuja stuttered for a moment, unable to find words. "I am an actor. I can hide pain, frustration, pleasure... and I can cast spells that you don't even know!" the last words were a harsh whisper. "Kuja, you've changed since I last noticed you so closely. But why did you come to see me?" Garland asked, though he knew. "I've come to make sure you notice me. I'm sick of being invisible." the silver teenager said flatly. "Well. I've noticed you. Now leave, I have more important things to do." Kuja snorted slightly. "What about the years you used to beat me if I wasn't around? Or even if I was?" Garland paused. How could he remember that? It had been when he was less than five years old... "You have a decent memory." the old man said gently. He had to have Kuja's trust! Sending a servant to Gaia who didn't have a strong reliance on him could result in disaster...
"You're right, Garland, I do have a good memory. I remember everything. And I don't forgive what I can't forget." **
He wasn't happy to find that he couldn't use me like he had planned. He had to fight it out of me, and that didn't really happen until I was almost twenty-one years old. I refused to accept that he was my master, after all that he had done to me. I was far too independent for him to do that. And he noticed it, too! When I finally agreed to come to Gaia, it was for my own benefit, not his. I wanted the power of the Eidolons, I wanted to defeat him with the power he feared the most. But it wasn't possible to go to Gaia without his permission, without having a decent reason for being there. I accepted his mission.=
I stared at Kuja for a moment, wondering exactly who he was... and what his purpose for being here was. "Kuja... you're not going... to harm me, are you?" I asked, receiving a hurt look. "...I need someone who trusts me... can't you trust me...?" he asked, and I know I saw him fighting tears. Gods, but he was beautiful. I tugged his warm body against me, trying to comfort my strange friend. "I trust you. But don't you dare betray that trust. I want to kill myself... don't take the pleasure away." I felt him laugh weakly against my chest. "...Thank you." he said softly, closing his eyes. Honestly, that man slept so much it was insane. And yet... he was so gorgeous asleep. It seemed to be the only place he could find honest comfort. I sighed. It was mid morning, and he was going back to sleep. What was I going to do with the rest of my day...? Sleep, obviously... sleep and dream.
...And dreams can take you to the strangest places.
...like Kuja's past, for instance.
Author's Note: *shy look* Well... that wasn't as bad as it could have been... I've had a serious case of writer's block lately, and I haven't had the time to get rid of it. I hate Pre-Algebra. '~'