Chapter I
Looking Up
Legacy was set before him. A slightly wet newspaper sat on a rickety wooden table. A humble chair sat next to it unoccupied, the legs barely sturdy and in need of repair. Shawn was not a man made of money, but one of spirit. He looked out a cracked window at the slums encircling a several-storied housing complex. Sector 2 stretched out before him, buildings cramped together and a people visible in the small streets. Yet another day was beginning in Midgar.
Shawn lifted a water bottle of coffee to his lips, for he could not afford even the simplest things at this moment. However, the small yet sufficient soldier's wage was why he had journeyed here from native Kalm. Sure it was hard to get by, but he was set out to persevere. Shawn eyes welled up with tears. Finally living out his dream, known for his legacy. He shunned himself for being emotional but continued on thinking. After all, soldiers don't cry. His coffee was cold now, and he trekked over the metal floor to a sink with rust plaguing its faucet. Shawn set it down in the basin and looked over to the barren table. The newspaper had fallen to the floor in a damp crumpled heap. Shawn strode over and rescued it, setting flat on the table that quivered like an old man. He circled around and sat on the chair, rubbing the blonde stubble on his chin. He sighed and picked up the paper. He heard a crack from below him and hesitated. As soon as Shawn blinked, he found himself falling backwards on two broken chair legs, flailing his arms madly to save his balance. His back hit the floor and he smacked his head. The paper sailed down on top of his face draping him in a mask of letters. It had honestly scared the crap out him, but not as much so as the banging of a metal pipe against his floor from the occupant below telling him to be quiet or not to expect his head to be there the next morning.
Shawn lifted the paper off of his head and read the front headlines.
"Wutai's rebellious refusal to comply with the ever-righteous ShinRa Corporation is a veritable smoking gun. President ShinRa, the newly elect, hopes that with the support of the people of Midgar that powerful people can, and we, a glorious city spread our influence around the world. Wutai is merely the first step, and that the planet is the playing field."
Shawn's eyes wandered around the pages.
"Talk of the Promised Land, esteemed Prof. Gast of ShinRa Inc. states, is indeed sensible due to the fact that the Planet runs on Mako energy, which in turn keeps the Planet alive. Prof. Gast continued on to state more blasphemous and ridiculous statements and even accused the ever-righteous President ShinRa of "killing the Planet". An investigation is being launched to test the Professor's credibility. Remarking on this event, leader of the investigation, young Prof. Hojo of weapons development said, "Perhaps the old man froze his brain spending all those days up at Icicle, and to think Mako energy, killing the planet!"
Shawn raised his hand to his now aching head running his fingers through his dark blonde hair. His light blue colored eyes wavered before he spaced out gazing up at the ceiling. The day ran through his mind so many times it felt like his brain started to blister. Anxiety ran through his veins in eager anticipation of the next day. The day he'd start his life at the ShinRa Electric Power Company.
-F-L-A-S-H-B-A-C-K-
A nimble house served as the only relief from the endless fields of crops encircling it. To the south the town of Kalm stood strong, a mass of blue-roofed houses, taverns, and shops.
"Oh!" A feminine voice quivered.
A throat cleared and spoke from the bottom, painfully as the words fluttered up inside.
"Well, our boy, a soldier." A masculine voice echoed wavering slightly.
ShinRa was one big step from working on the farms in Kalm. Shawn's father knew this well. The hardship and effort needed to keep your family alive. In his mind he saw the rugged face of his own father, coming in out of the blistering heat after a hard day's work on the fields. It was the fierce determination to keep on going through times of hardship burned within him. The image wouldn't un-stick from his mind.
"Ohh!" Shawn's mother moaned as a hot tear ran down her face.
That queasiness feeling seemed to be gnawing on her versatility. For a long time she knew that Shawn would choose this path, but she kept it out of sight, out of mind. But now the day would come that the feelings would pour out of her to see the son she loved as a man leaving on a long journey. Cold pricks climbed and fell on her spine as her hands balled up and clenched each other. She remembered cradling him in her arms as a baby, singing lullabies and laughing at the slightest things. She missed that deeply, even the sleepless nights that Shawn would cry relentlessly as a baby and the angst and rebellious behavior of his teenage years.
"Mom, please don't cry. You promised me you wouldn't."
"Yes, I'm sorry."
Not like her to apologize.
Shawn picked up a large dusty worn out duffle bag, his only belongings packed inside. He lifted it onto his shoulder. The metal of the hook jacked into his arm.
"Oh Shawn..." She walked up to him and fixed it, smoothing out the strap. She faced him and raised her hands up to his face. His left hand greeted hers on his left cheek.
"Thanks Mom." Shawn said, blushing color into his cheeks.
She backed up where Shawn's father clasped her shoulders and guided her to his side. More tears had clustered into her eyes and dripped down her red cheeks.
You could smell the salt in them.
"I guess it's time to go. Umm..." He looked down to the earth for a second unable to bear his parents faces looking at him. However he raised his head again with a confident smile. "It's time, don't wanna be late. I'll write to you."
His mother nodded weakly.
"Well go on." His father smiled. "Don't be late. And I bet Jack is waiting for you."
"Alright then Dad. I'll miss you." He smiled turning his back, which was one of the hardest things he felt he could do.
"Bye!" He uttered enthusiastically before starting out on his first footstep.
It got easier to travel now that his father had coaxed his mother to returning to the house, for now they had their backs turned to him. He strode along the dirt road looking at the immense corn stalks on his right, his family's long history was right here on this land. And now he was leaving for Midgar to be a soldier. However his father had no shame in Shawn, for that, he was thankful. The corn stalks rustled as a familiar figure emerged to tackle him to the dirt.
Looking Up
Legacy was set before him. A slightly wet newspaper sat on a rickety wooden table. A humble chair sat next to it unoccupied, the legs barely sturdy and in need of repair. Shawn was not a man made of money, but one of spirit. He looked out a cracked window at the slums encircling a several-storied housing complex. Sector 2 stretched out before him, buildings cramped together and a people visible in the small streets. Yet another day was beginning in Midgar.
Shawn lifted a water bottle of coffee to his lips, for he could not afford even the simplest things at this moment. However, the small yet sufficient soldier's wage was why he had journeyed here from native Kalm. Sure it was hard to get by, but he was set out to persevere. Shawn eyes welled up with tears. Finally living out his dream, known for his legacy. He shunned himself for being emotional but continued on thinking. After all, soldiers don't cry. His coffee was cold now, and he trekked over the metal floor to a sink with rust plaguing its faucet. Shawn set it down in the basin and looked over to the barren table. The newspaper had fallen to the floor in a damp crumpled heap. Shawn strode over and rescued it, setting flat on the table that quivered like an old man. He circled around and sat on the chair, rubbing the blonde stubble on his chin. He sighed and picked up the paper. He heard a crack from below him and hesitated. As soon as Shawn blinked, he found himself falling backwards on two broken chair legs, flailing his arms madly to save his balance. His back hit the floor and he smacked his head. The paper sailed down on top of his face draping him in a mask of letters. It had honestly scared the crap out him, but not as much so as the banging of a metal pipe against his floor from the occupant below telling him to be quiet or not to expect his head to be there the next morning.
Shawn lifted the paper off of his head and read the front headlines.
"Wutai's rebellious refusal to comply with the ever-righteous ShinRa Corporation is a veritable smoking gun. President ShinRa, the newly elect, hopes that with the support of the people of Midgar that powerful people can, and we, a glorious city spread our influence around the world. Wutai is merely the first step, and that the planet is the playing field."
Shawn's eyes wandered around the pages.
"Talk of the Promised Land, esteemed Prof. Gast of ShinRa Inc. states, is indeed sensible due to the fact that the Planet runs on Mako energy, which in turn keeps the Planet alive. Prof. Gast continued on to state more blasphemous and ridiculous statements and even accused the ever-righteous President ShinRa of "killing the Planet". An investigation is being launched to test the Professor's credibility. Remarking on this event, leader of the investigation, young Prof. Hojo of weapons development said, "Perhaps the old man froze his brain spending all those days up at Icicle, and to think Mako energy, killing the planet!"
Shawn raised his hand to his now aching head running his fingers through his dark blonde hair. His light blue colored eyes wavered before he spaced out gazing up at the ceiling. The day ran through his mind so many times it felt like his brain started to blister. Anxiety ran through his veins in eager anticipation of the next day. The day he'd start his life at the ShinRa Electric Power Company.
-F-L-A-S-H-B-A-C-K-
A nimble house served as the only relief from the endless fields of crops encircling it. To the south the town of Kalm stood strong, a mass of blue-roofed houses, taverns, and shops.
"Oh!" A feminine voice quivered.
A throat cleared and spoke from the bottom, painfully as the words fluttered up inside.
"Well, our boy, a soldier." A masculine voice echoed wavering slightly.
ShinRa was one big step from working on the farms in Kalm. Shawn's father knew this well. The hardship and effort needed to keep your family alive. In his mind he saw the rugged face of his own father, coming in out of the blistering heat after a hard day's work on the fields. It was the fierce determination to keep on going through times of hardship burned within him. The image wouldn't un-stick from his mind.
"Ohh!" Shawn's mother moaned as a hot tear ran down her face.
That queasiness feeling seemed to be gnawing on her versatility. For a long time she knew that Shawn would choose this path, but she kept it out of sight, out of mind. But now the day would come that the feelings would pour out of her to see the son she loved as a man leaving on a long journey. Cold pricks climbed and fell on her spine as her hands balled up and clenched each other. She remembered cradling him in her arms as a baby, singing lullabies and laughing at the slightest things. She missed that deeply, even the sleepless nights that Shawn would cry relentlessly as a baby and the angst and rebellious behavior of his teenage years.
"Mom, please don't cry. You promised me you wouldn't."
"Yes, I'm sorry."
Not like her to apologize.
Shawn picked up a large dusty worn out duffle bag, his only belongings packed inside. He lifted it onto his shoulder. The metal of the hook jacked into his arm.
"Oh Shawn..." She walked up to him and fixed it, smoothing out the strap. She faced him and raised her hands up to his face. His left hand greeted hers on his left cheek.
"Thanks Mom." Shawn said, blushing color into his cheeks.
She backed up where Shawn's father clasped her shoulders and guided her to his side. More tears had clustered into her eyes and dripped down her red cheeks.
You could smell the salt in them.
"I guess it's time to go. Umm..." He looked down to the earth for a second unable to bear his parents faces looking at him. However he raised his head again with a confident smile. "It's time, don't wanna be late. I'll write to you."
His mother nodded weakly.
"Well go on." His father smiled. "Don't be late. And I bet Jack is waiting for you."
"Alright then Dad. I'll miss you." He smiled turning his back, which was one of the hardest things he felt he could do.
"Bye!" He uttered enthusiastically before starting out on his first footstep.
It got easier to travel now that his father had coaxed his mother to returning to the house, for now they had their backs turned to him. He strode along the dirt road looking at the immense corn stalks on his right, his family's long history was right here on this land. And now he was leaving for Midgar to be a soldier. However his father had no shame in Shawn, for that, he was thankful. The corn stalks rustled as a familiar figure emerged to tackle him to the dirt.
