Author's Note: Alright, so I posted early. I'll bet you hate me for that. You've just entered the second wave of Silver Rose madness, Wings of a Hero. Yes, that was from the "Hero" song by Chad Kroeger and Josey Scott, but, regardless, I'll bet you're just anxious to see what I have up for you this time around. Thanks, and now that you're here. . . Silver Rose 2: Wings of a Hero. ( Lyrics to "Tombstone Blues" are copyright (C) Bob Dylan. )
Oh, and, here's a preview of the $7 Silver Rose sountrack, which will most likely be released in early 2004, unless summer holds a lot more writing time for me.
Ellis Paul - "Sweet Mistakes"
Dir en Grey - "Ain't Afraid to Die"
Good Charlotte - "The Anthem"
Styx - "Renegade"
AND MORE. . .
Silver Rose 2
by Reno Spiegel
Dante@towernetwork.net
February 28, 3078
Evening. Outside. Great Glacier. 6:24 P.M.
"Hey. . .Punk." - Rude, Turk HQ
Well, things aren't all peaches and cream around here. In the past two years, Aeris did indeed have a child -- a girl, and I lost twenty-five gil to her on that -- and everyone was given positions and full-fledged Turks. Cloud taught me sword-fighting to the point of where I could take him down in a spar, then stopped and let me take over. And thanks to help from Reno, I can, at will, extend or retract the mysterious wings.
But then it all went downhill. We started fighting, over the smallest things. The budget, the condition of the place, who did what and when they needed to do it. Soon, it all fell apart and, after raiding the gun cabinet, we abandoned the old Turk Headquarters and ran off in separate directions. Of course, now if we see anyone we know, we try to get a clear shot and blow their heads off. So far, I've made it away without taking a shot. Aeris didn't even follow me, but neither did anyone else. Rude, Reno, Aeris, and Cloud are all somewhere out here, the second from last trying to keep our child warm.
After so long, you start to build forts and hiding places, some even with snow-packed sniper towers. As for the condition of the others, I only know Reno's alive and out for my blood. Actually, he's right infront of me now. He's been here awhile. I can tell this by the bodies of Cloud and Rude on the ground, eyes closed and the evidence of being hit right infront of me.
"Can't run anymore," he tells me. I shake my head. No running now, we need to finish this. Here and now, or else it'll never get done. "On three?" We're fair people, except when it comes, or rather, came, to the people we killed on the Turk missions. I nod and he holds up his weapon. I do the same with mine. "One. . ." We get ready, in our stances. "Two. . ." We wring out the cramps and itches really fast, to make sure we have full focus. "NOW!"
Something cold and wet splashes over my head, and I swing around. Something from Reno's direction, cold and solid, hits me square in the back and I hear him shout.
Okay, so maybe we're just a bunch of jackasses with nothing better to do on a day off than have snowball fights all evening.
"Score! Thanks, Aeris. Cloud, Rude, game's over," he calls, and the two "bodies" stand up and wipe theirselves off. Aeris has an empty blue bucket and a mischevous grin on her face, so close to laughing it's barely funny.
I wring my hair out as best as possible and reach back to wipe the remains of the snowball off my back. "Not cool, Aeris." Nonetheless, I grin and wrap my arms around her, then fall just right, to make sure she's thoroughly covered in some of the white stuff. "Guess you got her to sleep, but that's hardly fair." She shrugs and kisses me on the cheek, muttering something about wanting me to suck it up and deal with it. I rub my snowball in her face for that, and she bursts out laughing.
Rude snorts. "You don't play fair either, Punk." My nickname. Two years and he's never gotten tired of calling me that. Truth of the matter is, though, I froze my snowballs the previous night one time, caught him in the head, and made a pretty big gash. Since then, we've been unsneakily "borrowing" some of Aeris' sewing cotton for padding, and we all look like blimps when we get out here. No Materia, powers, or mental tricks allowed, we all agreed. One Tongue of Jenova and he could put me twenty feet below the snow before I knew it.
I roll my eyes and pat Aeris on the side before I help her up. "Yeah, but she's not supposed to be helping him," I whine. Over two years, we haven't changed a bit. Cloud, always the quiet one around. Rude, makes sure I'm insulted whenever he speaks. Reno, competing with me to be the big mouth of the house. Aeris, still near-innocent. Me. . .well, you know me by now, right?
Reno comes up and hugs me from behind, one of those overly-tight ones that says, 'this is a joke,' and yells out, "We do it 'cause we love ya, Man!" I buck him over my shoulders, making sure he gets a mouthful of snow upon landing. He rolls over and stares straight at the sky for a few seconds. "Phone."
He grins at me, and I hear the house phone ringing inside. Flopping over, Reno digs his foot into the snow and makes a mad dash for the door. As childish as it sounds, I'm already booking it for the ringing phone, but he can run a lot faster than I can.
We'll see about that. Cheating again, it only takes a few moments for the wings to fly out and I'm airborne, flying faster than anyone could ever run, except maybe for some animals. They retract as soon as I hit the porch, and I skid across the newly-polished floor, windmilling my arms and sliding across on the "Welcome" mat, until I hit the far wall. By the time I get my bearings, Reno's finger is already over the speaker button. "Tongue of Jenova, I'm inside before you crash. Score Two!" He sticks his tongue out three-year-old like and presses the button.
Not to be beaten, I launch up and tackle him away, then scramble back up and say, "Sephiroth, Turk Headquarters." I hold up a finger and Reno props himself up on his elbows, halfway between grinning and frowning.
"The Fluke." It's Rufus ShinRa, whose father died in the middle of last year to lung cancer, who is one of my big rivals in the company. Actually, he's not so much a rival as he is a snotty, stuck up shithead, but there's really no difference to me. I roll my eyes and walk off, waving a hand at Reno and letting him know he can get it. Although Reno was appointed leader of the Turks, though, I've taken equal partnership with him, Rude stepping gladly to the side.
For emergency reasons, a call on the speaker-phone is hooked up to a speaker in every room. So, naturally, walking through the house, I can hear every breath those two take. Even as I walk through the kitchen and toward the bedroom of Aeris and myself, with the crib in the corner, I hear they skip the introductions and get right down to it. Switching between Rufus and Reno, this is about how it goes:
"Reno. . . Do you know what they say about the Old Elite Turks?"
"They were all screwed over by someone related to Hojo?"
I roll my eyes and lean softly on the crib. Inside, our daughter; she's going to have her mother's hair and her father's eyes, that was apparent within the first week. I hate to wonder what the combination of our attitudes is going to lead to in this case. Little Kline, the name surprisingly not chosen by me.
"They came with a whisper, went out with a bang. What do you think they'll say about you?"
"We were all screwed over by someone related to Hojo?" I hear the sound of his lighter. When he's stressed, he smokes. Or when he's worried and he knows what's about to happen. Silently, slowly, I cross the fingers on my left hand. Not today, not today, not today. . .
"Reno, this is not the time for jokes."
"Sorry, Sir." He's done for. As soon as Reno starts getting serious, Rufus has something big in mind.
Not today, not today, God, not today. . .
"They're already saying it, Reno. The five Turks: The Drunk, the Cetra, the Reject, the Cueball, and Spike." Reno, Aeris, myself, Rude, and Cloud, all lined up, preparing to be shot against the wall. Our last requests? To have someone resurrect Hojo so we don't have to deal with him up there.
I start humming a song, which is a bad sign. When I'm stressed, I hum. Or smoke. But I can't smoke in this room, and if I move, it'll all turn bad, I can feel it.
~Momma's in the factory,
Ain't got no shoes.~
"The New Elite Turks, you call yourself," Rufus goes on. I close my eyes. Today, today, it's going to be today, but it can't be today. "They'll know you as the Outcast Turks. The Outcast Turks that got the job done, but could never really cut it in the real world."
Past tense.
My daughter doesn't know it, but these three stars on my chest are for killing thirty people. Reno keeps his in a fold-out wallet. Twenty-seven in all, from ten years on the squad. Rude won't tell us how many kills he has. Cloud, just ten, because he's usually wandering around looking for things. Aeris, of course, doesn't have any. She's usually taking care of Kline. My humming gets louder.
~Daddy's in the hallway,
Lookin' for the fuse.~
"If I didn't know better, Rufus, I'd say you were considering firing us." Reno's trying to build up a front. Not at Rufus, you moron. Rufus is a tough son of a bitch, and there's no way you'll overturn his rulings.
Rufus laughs loudly, I cringe, and Kline shifts, still not awake. Not good, not good at all. Rufus doesn't laugh, Rufus isn't a happy person. "What ever gave you that idea, Reno?" I don't stop gripping my own elbows. There's a catch, I know. If I were calm, I'd be looking for my CDs and maybe even putting one on. I'm tight like a rubber-band.
"No, I'm not considering firing you. In fact, I'm signing the papers to do so as we speak."
~I'm in the kitchen,
With the tombstone blues.~
* * * * *
When I'm depressed, I sleep in the basement with a leaky faucette and a washing machine that, if on for too long, will jump around in a five-foot circle. On a footstool, on the cold concrete floor, is a radio that can only pick up a single station -- AM, no less -- and ate one of our comedy tapes, so I can't play anything on it. Why do I come down here to sleep, then?
Because in the basement, I can smoke and the cracked window sucks all of the smell right out, and I can think in all the peace you want if I flip the lock on the door.
It must be a Turk thing; when we're nervous, we smoke, and when we're mad, we devastate.
But right now, the door isn't locked, and Reno's standing in it. I can smell him in the dark; without a shower, smelling like cigarettes and alcohol, but still sobered up by the news of our being fired from the company. And now, he looks to me for guidance. "You know what you have to do, right?" he asks, quietly, slowly.
The burning ash infront of me extends and flares for a moment with my pull, then dulls down to its original color and stays longer until I flick the ashes onto the floor, nodding at him after a moment. "Yeah, I know what I have to do. Believe me, it's going to have to be done."
Reno walks back up the creaky stairs before I even start the second sentence, and I stub the cylindar out angrily, tossing the butt somewhere in the pitch-black room. I know what I have to do, and within a few months, I'm going to do it. Reno wants it, I want it. I know Cloud and Rude will back me up one-hundred percent if Reno okays it.
Soon, I'll make the sacrifice.
I wonder how my wife'll take it?
Author's Note: To clear up the confusion if you have it, yes, I mean Aeris at the end there.
Oh, and, here's a preview of the $7 Silver Rose sountrack, which will most likely be released in early 2004, unless summer holds a lot more writing time for me.
Ellis Paul - "Sweet Mistakes"
Dir en Grey - "Ain't Afraid to Die"
Good Charlotte - "The Anthem"
Styx - "Renegade"
AND MORE. . .
Silver Rose 2
by Reno Spiegel
Dante@towernetwork.net
February 28, 3078
Evening. Outside. Great Glacier. 6:24 P.M.
"Hey. . .Punk." - Rude, Turk HQ
Well, things aren't all peaches and cream around here. In the past two years, Aeris did indeed have a child -- a girl, and I lost twenty-five gil to her on that -- and everyone was given positions and full-fledged Turks. Cloud taught me sword-fighting to the point of where I could take him down in a spar, then stopped and let me take over. And thanks to help from Reno, I can, at will, extend or retract the mysterious wings.
But then it all went downhill. We started fighting, over the smallest things. The budget, the condition of the place, who did what and when they needed to do it. Soon, it all fell apart and, after raiding the gun cabinet, we abandoned the old Turk Headquarters and ran off in separate directions. Of course, now if we see anyone we know, we try to get a clear shot and blow their heads off. So far, I've made it away without taking a shot. Aeris didn't even follow me, but neither did anyone else. Rude, Reno, Aeris, and Cloud are all somewhere out here, the second from last trying to keep our child warm.
After so long, you start to build forts and hiding places, some even with snow-packed sniper towers. As for the condition of the others, I only know Reno's alive and out for my blood. Actually, he's right infront of me now. He's been here awhile. I can tell this by the bodies of Cloud and Rude on the ground, eyes closed and the evidence of being hit right infront of me.
"Can't run anymore," he tells me. I shake my head. No running now, we need to finish this. Here and now, or else it'll never get done. "On three?" We're fair people, except when it comes, or rather, came, to the people we killed on the Turk missions. I nod and he holds up his weapon. I do the same with mine. "One. . ." We get ready, in our stances. "Two. . ." We wring out the cramps and itches really fast, to make sure we have full focus. "NOW!"
Something cold and wet splashes over my head, and I swing around. Something from Reno's direction, cold and solid, hits me square in the back and I hear him shout.
Okay, so maybe we're just a bunch of jackasses with nothing better to do on a day off than have snowball fights all evening.
"Score! Thanks, Aeris. Cloud, Rude, game's over," he calls, and the two "bodies" stand up and wipe theirselves off. Aeris has an empty blue bucket and a mischevous grin on her face, so close to laughing it's barely funny.
I wring my hair out as best as possible and reach back to wipe the remains of the snowball off my back. "Not cool, Aeris." Nonetheless, I grin and wrap my arms around her, then fall just right, to make sure she's thoroughly covered in some of the white stuff. "Guess you got her to sleep, but that's hardly fair." She shrugs and kisses me on the cheek, muttering something about wanting me to suck it up and deal with it. I rub my snowball in her face for that, and she bursts out laughing.
Rude snorts. "You don't play fair either, Punk." My nickname. Two years and he's never gotten tired of calling me that. Truth of the matter is, though, I froze my snowballs the previous night one time, caught him in the head, and made a pretty big gash. Since then, we've been unsneakily "borrowing" some of Aeris' sewing cotton for padding, and we all look like blimps when we get out here. No Materia, powers, or mental tricks allowed, we all agreed. One Tongue of Jenova and he could put me twenty feet below the snow before I knew it.
I roll my eyes and pat Aeris on the side before I help her up. "Yeah, but she's not supposed to be helping him," I whine. Over two years, we haven't changed a bit. Cloud, always the quiet one around. Rude, makes sure I'm insulted whenever he speaks. Reno, competing with me to be the big mouth of the house. Aeris, still near-innocent. Me. . .well, you know me by now, right?
Reno comes up and hugs me from behind, one of those overly-tight ones that says, 'this is a joke,' and yells out, "We do it 'cause we love ya, Man!" I buck him over my shoulders, making sure he gets a mouthful of snow upon landing. He rolls over and stares straight at the sky for a few seconds. "Phone."
He grins at me, and I hear the house phone ringing inside. Flopping over, Reno digs his foot into the snow and makes a mad dash for the door. As childish as it sounds, I'm already booking it for the ringing phone, but he can run a lot faster than I can.
We'll see about that. Cheating again, it only takes a few moments for the wings to fly out and I'm airborne, flying faster than anyone could ever run, except maybe for some animals. They retract as soon as I hit the porch, and I skid across the newly-polished floor, windmilling my arms and sliding across on the "Welcome" mat, until I hit the far wall. By the time I get my bearings, Reno's finger is already over the speaker button. "Tongue of Jenova, I'm inside before you crash. Score Two!" He sticks his tongue out three-year-old like and presses the button.
Not to be beaten, I launch up and tackle him away, then scramble back up and say, "Sephiroth, Turk Headquarters." I hold up a finger and Reno props himself up on his elbows, halfway between grinning and frowning.
"The Fluke." It's Rufus ShinRa, whose father died in the middle of last year to lung cancer, who is one of my big rivals in the company. Actually, he's not so much a rival as he is a snotty, stuck up shithead, but there's really no difference to me. I roll my eyes and walk off, waving a hand at Reno and letting him know he can get it. Although Reno was appointed leader of the Turks, though, I've taken equal partnership with him, Rude stepping gladly to the side.
For emergency reasons, a call on the speaker-phone is hooked up to a speaker in every room. So, naturally, walking through the house, I can hear every breath those two take. Even as I walk through the kitchen and toward the bedroom of Aeris and myself, with the crib in the corner, I hear they skip the introductions and get right down to it. Switching between Rufus and Reno, this is about how it goes:
"Reno. . . Do you know what they say about the Old Elite Turks?"
"They were all screwed over by someone related to Hojo?"
I roll my eyes and lean softly on the crib. Inside, our daughter; she's going to have her mother's hair and her father's eyes, that was apparent within the first week. I hate to wonder what the combination of our attitudes is going to lead to in this case. Little Kline, the name surprisingly not chosen by me.
"They came with a whisper, went out with a bang. What do you think they'll say about you?"
"We were all screwed over by someone related to Hojo?" I hear the sound of his lighter. When he's stressed, he smokes. Or when he's worried and he knows what's about to happen. Silently, slowly, I cross the fingers on my left hand. Not today, not today, not today. . .
"Reno, this is not the time for jokes."
"Sorry, Sir." He's done for. As soon as Reno starts getting serious, Rufus has something big in mind.
Not today, not today, God, not today. . .
"They're already saying it, Reno. The five Turks: The Drunk, the Cetra, the Reject, the Cueball, and Spike." Reno, Aeris, myself, Rude, and Cloud, all lined up, preparing to be shot against the wall. Our last requests? To have someone resurrect Hojo so we don't have to deal with him up there.
I start humming a song, which is a bad sign. When I'm stressed, I hum. Or smoke. But I can't smoke in this room, and if I move, it'll all turn bad, I can feel it.
~Momma's in the factory,
Ain't got no shoes.~
"The New Elite Turks, you call yourself," Rufus goes on. I close my eyes. Today, today, it's going to be today, but it can't be today. "They'll know you as the Outcast Turks. The Outcast Turks that got the job done, but could never really cut it in the real world."
Past tense.
My daughter doesn't know it, but these three stars on my chest are for killing thirty people. Reno keeps his in a fold-out wallet. Twenty-seven in all, from ten years on the squad. Rude won't tell us how many kills he has. Cloud, just ten, because he's usually wandering around looking for things. Aeris, of course, doesn't have any. She's usually taking care of Kline. My humming gets louder.
~Daddy's in the hallway,
Lookin' for the fuse.~
"If I didn't know better, Rufus, I'd say you were considering firing us." Reno's trying to build up a front. Not at Rufus, you moron. Rufus is a tough son of a bitch, and there's no way you'll overturn his rulings.
Rufus laughs loudly, I cringe, and Kline shifts, still not awake. Not good, not good at all. Rufus doesn't laugh, Rufus isn't a happy person. "What ever gave you that idea, Reno?" I don't stop gripping my own elbows. There's a catch, I know. If I were calm, I'd be looking for my CDs and maybe even putting one on. I'm tight like a rubber-band.
"No, I'm not considering firing you. In fact, I'm signing the papers to do so as we speak."
~I'm in the kitchen,
With the tombstone blues.~
* * * * *
When I'm depressed, I sleep in the basement with a leaky faucette and a washing machine that, if on for too long, will jump around in a five-foot circle. On a footstool, on the cold concrete floor, is a radio that can only pick up a single station -- AM, no less -- and ate one of our comedy tapes, so I can't play anything on it. Why do I come down here to sleep, then?
Because in the basement, I can smoke and the cracked window sucks all of the smell right out, and I can think in all the peace you want if I flip the lock on the door.
It must be a Turk thing; when we're nervous, we smoke, and when we're mad, we devastate.
But right now, the door isn't locked, and Reno's standing in it. I can smell him in the dark; without a shower, smelling like cigarettes and alcohol, but still sobered up by the news of our being fired from the company. And now, he looks to me for guidance. "You know what you have to do, right?" he asks, quietly, slowly.
The burning ash infront of me extends and flares for a moment with my pull, then dulls down to its original color and stays longer until I flick the ashes onto the floor, nodding at him after a moment. "Yeah, I know what I have to do. Believe me, it's going to have to be done."
Reno walks back up the creaky stairs before I even start the second sentence, and I stub the cylindar out angrily, tossing the butt somewhere in the pitch-black room. I know what I have to do, and within a few months, I'm going to do it. Reno wants it, I want it. I know Cloud and Rude will back me up one-hundred percent if Reno okays it.
Soon, I'll make the sacrifice.
I wonder how my wife'll take it?
Author's Note: To clear up the confusion if you have it, yes, I mean Aeris at the end there.