(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)
Yes. I know, I know, I apologize, but I HAD to blow up the Apocalypse. It wasn't even in the game except for that one FMV, and it wasn't named. It's the closest to an OC I've ever gotten yet. But, I'm kinda flattered; more people were ticked because I blew up the Apocalypse then because I killed Rinoa's daddy.
Besides, how else was I supposed to get them stranded in the middle of nowhere with no one to hold them accountable for their actions? Think on THAT. Warning, this is the closest I've gotten to fluff yet. . . I hate my sappy female self, it tries to steal the plot and turn it into sap. I'm so sappy you should use me on pancakes.
Shameless Trigun reference ahead. If you spot it, maybe I'll ask you to beta for me. . . I need a beta. . . . God, erm, HYNE knows that I needed one this chapter.
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. quistis .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)
I woke with the distinct feeling that I had been trampled by a dozen chocobos and that Squall had taken the idea of bombing Laguna to heart . . . and since I'm always near Laguna, I'd been bombed too.
I was a good theory with two majors flaws. One, there were no chocobo tracks anywhere in the vicinity.
Two, I didn't see Laguna anywhere near.
I jerked up, opening my eyes. I regretted it instantly, and perhaps it was because of the bright light in my eyes, or the blood rushing away from my head, or my numerous broken ribs and the gash in my arm, but the elusive mayfly known as consciousness slipped my grasp.
I woke again, and this time, I was aware of more than the pain. I was aware of the extent of it, and the possibilities the pain might imply, i.e, death, paralysis, amputation, etc, etc.
I opened my eyes slowly, and not without considerable pain. I could practically feel my corneas burning away, and I blinked cautiously a few times, not that it helped any.
I lifted the arm that didn't feel so much like it was on fire as the other one, and winced. Okay, NOW it was on fire. I didn't so much place it on my wounds as much as flop it around and hope it hit a gash or two, murmuring as many 'cure' spells as were necessary.
I rested at the exertion of moving my arm, and sat up. Pain, extremely painful . . . I think I cried out, more than once, as I struggle to my feet, fueled by sheer will and something else.
I had to find Laguna.
That's right . . . I'm protecting Laguna . . . I can't protect him if I'm dead . . . so I gotta live . . .
I staggered up to my feet, and I bit my lip as the parachute that had carried me down here caught a hot, sand laden wind and billowed up behind me, trying to force me to go that direction. I struggled out of the parachute recklessly, with no regard for the cuts and scrapes that were still numb from shock.
You're pushing yourself . . . can't protect him if you're dead . . . can't protect him if he's not here . . . can't protect him if he's dead . . . so gotta go and . . . and . . . find him . . . make sure he lives . . . and . . . and . . .
I collapsed on the red sand, and looked up. Red everywhere. Golden orange red. Desert. Plateus, and no . . . no sign of Laguna. Even the sky was yellow . . . everything was hot and burning . . .
Red. Just red. No comparisons, no euphemisms. Just red. I forced myself back up, praying to anyone who could hear me to give me enough strength to stand. I shivered, my muscles trembling in their exhaustion. No, can't stop now.
Red dust. I was moving. Walking, dragging, stumbling, pick a verb, any verb, but the point was, I was moving. The wind was this direction, so Laguna should be somewhere that direction. Logic abandoned me, but sense had not.
Red dirt. What would I do after I found Laguna? My brain twanged, throbbing painfully, It seemed the my mind wasn't functioningwell enough o think that far ahead . . . find Laguna, that was the important part. Find him and protect him
Blue jacket . . .
Blue? Blue Jacket? I shook my head. Mirage? Hyne, please . . . Laguna?
I stumbled forward, and tripped. I hit the ground hard, and gasped, closing my eyes tightly against tears of pain and frustration even as I forced myself to keep moving to keep crawling forward.
It was Laguna.
He was on his back, his parachute removed and at his side, leaning against a large, worn stone. Cuts and abrasions scrawled across his cheeks, and his hair flew into his face limply as the sand laden wind tousled it.
. . .no . . .no movement . . .
Asleep? Knocked out? . . . Dead?
NO. It takes more than a half a dozen assassins and an exploding spacecraft to kill Laguna Loire.
I tried to get my hand up to his neck to check his pulse, but my arm didn't want to listen to me. My fine motor skills weren't trustworthy enough, so I placed my head somewhere on his chest, waiting for a heartbeat, a breath, something to show that he was alive. I held my own breath . . .
Badum . . . . badum . . . . badum . . . .
He was . . . alive.
I felt myself smile against his jacket. He shifted beneath me, and made a sound that rumbled under my ear. He'd be fine . . .
I felt my self seize up, and then . . .
Just . . .
Floated away . . . .
But it was okay to float away now.
Laguna would be fine.
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .laguna. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)
Pain.
I . . .
I hurt. A lot. Ow . . .
I shifted; there was a heavy weight on my chest. I felt gritty particles gluing my eyes shut, but forced them open anyway. I regretted it. Bright light assaulted my eyes, and I squeezed them back shut instantly.
This wasn't good . . . what the heck had happened? After forcing my eyes to blink open against the searing brightness, I tried to sit up, but the weight on me prevented it. I shook my head, and looked down.
The heavy weight was . . . Quistis.
Her body sprawled over my left hip and to my right shoulder, her face buried in my collar bone, her arm flung carelessly over my neck. Her hair was mussed, and red clay and dust clung to the few places her clothes let skin show through. It was as though she had just . . . crawled on top of me and collapsed.
I didn't know whether it was a good idea to move her or not. I poked her in the ribs gently. "Quistis . . . hey, you awake? Quistis?" She didn't react. I poked harder.
She shifted against my hips.
I froze. Okay, note to self - no more poking Quistis. It makes her move . . . and on me . . . and she's there . . . and it isn't generally a good thing. Erk.
Taking a deep breath, I went over what I knew. Quistis, in typical 'I'm- over-protective-and-suicidal' form, had flung herself over me before passing out cold in an effort to protect me from whatever beasties might roam around the area. My weapon was somewhere among the charred remnants of the Apocalypse . . . and . . .
"Hey!" I yelped, something finally clicking. "They blew up my ship! MY ship!" They blew up the Apocalypse! MY Apocalypse! How could they? That ship was so cool, and they just blew it up, with no respect for it's utter coolness! MY utter coolness!
I had the urge to shoot something. A lot. Through the chest, and preferably while it was wearing a Galbadian uniform. Scowling, I sighed. Quistis had her weapon at her hip, but I had no idea how to use it. And like I was putting my hands anywhere near her hips, anyway.
I looked down at her. This was, actually, as good as it was gonna get for quite awhile.
Quistis began to slide off me. I caught her arms. It was only to make sure she didn't aggravate any wounds she might have, but I blinked, thinking how it must look. Well, no one was here to see anything, and there wasn't anything to see. So nyaaa . . . eh heh heh . . .
"Even so," I muttered sullenly, wrapping my numbed arms around Quistis' unconscious figure, "I'm enjoying this way too much."
It was quiet, except for the wind. Oooh. Poetic. But still, I was thirsty, and my head hurt. Reaching up, I gingerly touched the lump on the back of my head. Flinching, I drew it back. Blood. I was really tired too, but sleep wasn't such a good idea. You know, concussions and all.
Very uncool, dying was not cool at all.
. . .
I found myself talking to Qustis' sleeping form to fill the annoying silence. And to keep myself awake. "You know," I said mildly, if a bit hoarsely, "I should jump outta exploding spacecraft more often." I peered at her slack face, with was drooling slightly on my jacket. "I mean, it isn't everyday I wake up to find a beautiful woman sprawled over me."
I grinned widely. "Why, Quistis, I didn't know you felt that way about me!"
No reaction. My grin faded. Grr. "No fun making jokes if nobody's there to laugh," I complained. I shook Quistis gently, and patted her head. "Not that you laugh to begin with. I'm gonna change that. After all, I've got two whole months with you, hmm?"
The sun was climbing higher. I checked Quistis's pulse. It was strong, and she didn't look like she was injured . . . but looks mean nothing. I blinked. "Well, Quistis, I don't wanna hurt you by accident, but we can't just lie here forever. The rocks digging into my back are kinda pointy." Pause. "And you're doing things you shouldn't be doing," I added uncomfortably.
Er . . . yeah . . .
"So, to stay, or go?" My brows furrowed, trying to think about other things.
Quistis shifted against me again.
Ah . . . "Go. Definitely go." I shook my head, trying to concentrate.
Setting Quistis gently on her side next to me, I sat up, running my hand through my hair nervously. Think, Laguna. You were on the way to Dollet from Esthar. So which desert from there to there are we in? I shook my head. Can't think . . .
"So . . ." I said slowly out loud. "Kiros will know that the Apocalypse's transmitter was destroyed - even if he didn't know that the rest of it had gone up in smoke too - and Dollet would inform Ward that I hadn't arrived for the talk thingy." I frowned. "They might be mad."
"Kios and Ward . . ." I leaned back against an especially pointy rock, but ignored it. "They'll suspect foul play." I laughed, wriggling my fingers expressively. "Dun dun DUNNN!"
Quistis was silent. I sighed. "No point talking to you, is there? Argh." I tossed my hair out of my face, but it fell right back. "Anyway . . ." I looked around. "We'll find high ground and see if we can figure out where the heck we are."
Turning to her, I smiled. "How's that for a plan. You agree?" Silence.
I took off my jacket and draped it over her. You know, with her really pale skin and all, she must burn pretty easy. Lucky she isn't into the whole let's-see-how-much-skin-we-can-show fad that everyone seems to like now, or she'd already be burnt.
I slipped my arms behind her back and under her knees, and heaved the two of us up together. I practically dropped her right after, because the blood went rushing out of my head, so I steadied myself against a larger rock and squinted to see.
She was pretty light. Not surprising, considering she was about as thin as a toothpick anyway. She's tall, too, so you wouldn't think it. I guessed vaguely at her weight, and considered asking her, before wincing at the memory of the last time I asked a woman how much she weighed.
I looked down at Quistis. Actually, with my jacket on her, she looked kinda lumpy. Shaking my head to clear it, I picked a plateau to head to.
The silence, except for a few crummy birds and my moving feet, was even more stifling than the sun. I muttered sullenly. "Stupid birds. Stupid rocks. Stupid sun. Stupid dust. Stupid sand. Stupid desert. Nah, too grassy to be desert . . . more like a dead, dead plain or field."
Silence. I blinked, frowning, plodding on. I stretched a shoulder, and winced. "Damn sun. Now I'm beginning to burn, thanks a lot, Quistis." I glared at her, and more pointedly, at my jacket.
More silence. "You know, Quistis, if you were awake, I'd talk to you." I glanced at the lumpy jacket.
. . .
" . . . ah, heck, I'll talk anyway." I kicked a rock. "You confuse me. I meet you, and you're suicidal. Miserable. Then we end up telling each other our deepest darkest secrets for no reason at all, and even though you could have killed yourself the second I left - cuz if you'd tried while I was there, I wouldn't have let you - you don't."
Bowing my head away from the light, I kept talking. "You're so . . . I dunno . . . passionate? Yeah, passionate about whatever you try, and then you have the bronze-balled gall to tell me you can't love. I'm not seeing a pattern here, Quistis." I laughed softly. "Maybe I should set you up with someone. Just to see, hmm?"
I thought about it. I didn't kow many people her age. She had been friendly with that Kinneas guy . . .
I scowled, remembering her warm tone with him, that it was SHE who had called HIM. And that ridiculous drawl of his, not to mention the topic of most of their conversation.
I felt my face grow warm as I remembered a few of the things he had said to Quistis . . . related, in the most part, to me. 'Is it true what they say about age and experience?' . . . What DO they say about age and experience? I could probably take a guess . . .
I shook my head. "No no no, BAD Laguna. Quistis, uh . . . wouldn't appreciate a setup, would you, Quistis?" I looked down mournfully at my bundle of KO'ed bodyguard. "I got a confession to make."
Shaking my head, I slowed my pace. "Good thing you're asleep, or I'd never fess up."
No reaction. "It was Kiros fault, I swear. And Ward's, cause he didn't tell me Kiros had my private line tapped. He had to screen your call, he just . . . happened to make sure I was in the room. . ." Not quite the truth, but even if Quistis was asleep, she didn't have to know that-
A voice floated up from my jacket, slightly muffled and hoarse. "I would have told you most of the conversation anyway, but I do hope you paid no mind to the second half."
I fumbled, and almost dropped her. Trying not to look guilty, I winced. "How long, exactly, were you awake?"
"A minute or so. You were talking about setting me up, I decided it would be best to stay quiet," she said slowly. "There was an extraordinarily long silence after that. I hope you weren't getting any ideas, Laguna?"
I was glad the jacket was still covering her eyes, because I could feel my face seriously heating up. Crap.
"I was trying to think," I answered, not untruthfully. "I don't know many people your age. Unless you're interested in snooty bureaucrats."
"No. And I do understand, but next time I'll know to use a payphone."
Her arm dragged my jacket off of her face. She looked . . . tired.
Blinking, I blurted out, "You look like crap."
"Why, thank you." Quistis didn't budge; if she wasn't talking, I would've thought she was still asleep. Her words hit me.
"What's this? Sarcasm? He - ey," I grinned. "Am I rubbing off on you?"
"Hyne forbid."
My hands weren't exactly free, so I bent down and bit on the collar of my jacket and dragged it back over her face. "Go back to sleep."
She didn't complain like I expected, she must be exhausted.
Looking around the barren landscape, I sighed. Its times like these that a sense of direction would be nice.
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)
I AM ON VACATION FOR CHRISTMAS. This story is on HIATUS until I get back, which is after New Year's. A few weeks . . . not that long, really . . . but the review count for this chapter had better be just as high as the last one, or I'll get mad.
On a completely unrelated topic, I need help. My strategy guide has disappeared, so from their current location (somewhere between Dollet and Esthar) where are they, and what's the closest town?
I dislike the idea that I might be moving the plot too fast. According to my little chapter guide, this chapter isn't supposed to occur for . . . two more chapters. Go figure. So the result of this is my chapter lengths being reduced slightly until this problem is fixed.
So, Laguna being ever-so-slightly fluffy. Whaddya think? Eh heh heh. Gravity will always prevail, and everything will fall into place. Eventually, things'll get . . .fiesty . . . after all, all's well that ends in lots of smoochies. Mweh heh heh.
Sorry, my muse is attacking me with a dozen plots at once, but I will fight! Ha! But still . . . I can't believe my perverted little muse thought up a Naraku/Kagome . . .
Yes. I know, I know, I apologize, but I HAD to blow up the Apocalypse. It wasn't even in the game except for that one FMV, and it wasn't named. It's the closest to an OC I've ever gotten yet. But, I'm kinda flattered; more people were ticked because I blew up the Apocalypse then because I killed Rinoa's daddy.
Besides, how else was I supposed to get them stranded in the middle of nowhere with no one to hold them accountable for their actions? Think on THAT. Warning, this is the closest I've gotten to fluff yet. . . I hate my sappy female self, it tries to steal the plot and turn it into sap. I'm so sappy you should use me on pancakes.
Shameless Trigun reference ahead. If you spot it, maybe I'll ask you to beta for me. . . I need a beta. . . . God, erm, HYNE knows that I needed one this chapter.
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. quistis .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)
I woke with the distinct feeling that I had been trampled by a dozen chocobos and that Squall had taken the idea of bombing Laguna to heart . . . and since I'm always near Laguna, I'd been bombed too.
I was a good theory with two majors flaws. One, there were no chocobo tracks anywhere in the vicinity.
Two, I didn't see Laguna anywhere near.
I jerked up, opening my eyes. I regretted it instantly, and perhaps it was because of the bright light in my eyes, or the blood rushing away from my head, or my numerous broken ribs and the gash in my arm, but the elusive mayfly known as consciousness slipped my grasp.
I woke again, and this time, I was aware of more than the pain. I was aware of the extent of it, and the possibilities the pain might imply, i.e, death, paralysis, amputation, etc, etc.
I opened my eyes slowly, and not without considerable pain. I could practically feel my corneas burning away, and I blinked cautiously a few times, not that it helped any.
I lifted the arm that didn't feel so much like it was on fire as the other one, and winced. Okay, NOW it was on fire. I didn't so much place it on my wounds as much as flop it around and hope it hit a gash or two, murmuring as many 'cure' spells as were necessary.
I rested at the exertion of moving my arm, and sat up. Pain, extremely painful . . . I think I cried out, more than once, as I struggle to my feet, fueled by sheer will and something else.
I had to find Laguna.
That's right . . . I'm protecting Laguna . . . I can't protect him if I'm dead . . . so I gotta live . . .
I staggered up to my feet, and I bit my lip as the parachute that had carried me down here caught a hot, sand laden wind and billowed up behind me, trying to force me to go that direction. I struggled out of the parachute recklessly, with no regard for the cuts and scrapes that were still numb from shock.
You're pushing yourself . . . can't protect him if you're dead . . . can't protect him if he's not here . . . can't protect him if he's dead . . . so gotta go and . . . and . . . find him . . . make sure he lives . . . and . . . and . . .
I collapsed on the red sand, and looked up. Red everywhere. Golden orange red. Desert. Plateus, and no . . . no sign of Laguna. Even the sky was yellow . . . everything was hot and burning . . .
Red. Just red. No comparisons, no euphemisms. Just red. I forced myself back up, praying to anyone who could hear me to give me enough strength to stand. I shivered, my muscles trembling in their exhaustion. No, can't stop now.
Red dust. I was moving. Walking, dragging, stumbling, pick a verb, any verb, but the point was, I was moving. The wind was this direction, so Laguna should be somewhere that direction. Logic abandoned me, but sense had not.
Red dirt. What would I do after I found Laguna? My brain twanged, throbbing painfully, It seemed the my mind wasn't functioningwell enough o think that far ahead . . . find Laguna, that was the important part. Find him and protect him
Blue jacket . . .
Blue? Blue Jacket? I shook my head. Mirage? Hyne, please . . . Laguna?
I stumbled forward, and tripped. I hit the ground hard, and gasped, closing my eyes tightly against tears of pain and frustration even as I forced myself to keep moving to keep crawling forward.
It was Laguna.
He was on his back, his parachute removed and at his side, leaning against a large, worn stone. Cuts and abrasions scrawled across his cheeks, and his hair flew into his face limply as the sand laden wind tousled it.
. . .no . . .no movement . . .
Asleep? Knocked out? . . . Dead?
NO. It takes more than a half a dozen assassins and an exploding spacecraft to kill Laguna Loire.
I tried to get my hand up to his neck to check his pulse, but my arm didn't want to listen to me. My fine motor skills weren't trustworthy enough, so I placed my head somewhere on his chest, waiting for a heartbeat, a breath, something to show that he was alive. I held my own breath . . .
Badum . . . . badum . . . . badum . . . .
He was . . . alive.
I felt myself smile against his jacket. He shifted beneath me, and made a sound that rumbled under my ear. He'd be fine . . .
I felt my self seize up, and then . . .
Just . . .
Floated away . . . .
But it was okay to float away now.
Laguna would be fine.
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .laguna. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)
Pain.
I . . .
I hurt. A lot. Ow . . .
I shifted; there was a heavy weight on my chest. I felt gritty particles gluing my eyes shut, but forced them open anyway. I regretted it. Bright light assaulted my eyes, and I squeezed them back shut instantly.
This wasn't good . . . what the heck had happened? After forcing my eyes to blink open against the searing brightness, I tried to sit up, but the weight on me prevented it. I shook my head, and looked down.
The heavy weight was . . . Quistis.
Her body sprawled over my left hip and to my right shoulder, her face buried in my collar bone, her arm flung carelessly over my neck. Her hair was mussed, and red clay and dust clung to the few places her clothes let skin show through. It was as though she had just . . . crawled on top of me and collapsed.
I didn't know whether it was a good idea to move her or not. I poked her in the ribs gently. "Quistis . . . hey, you awake? Quistis?" She didn't react. I poked harder.
She shifted against my hips.
I froze. Okay, note to self - no more poking Quistis. It makes her move . . . and on me . . . and she's there . . . and it isn't generally a good thing. Erk.
Taking a deep breath, I went over what I knew. Quistis, in typical 'I'm- over-protective-and-suicidal' form, had flung herself over me before passing out cold in an effort to protect me from whatever beasties might roam around the area. My weapon was somewhere among the charred remnants of the Apocalypse . . . and . . .
"Hey!" I yelped, something finally clicking. "They blew up my ship! MY ship!" They blew up the Apocalypse! MY Apocalypse! How could they? That ship was so cool, and they just blew it up, with no respect for it's utter coolness! MY utter coolness!
I had the urge to shoot something. A lot. Through the chest, and preferably while it was wearing a Galbadian uniform. Scowling, I sighed. Quistis had her weapon at her hip, but I had no idea how to use it. And like I was putting my hands anywhere near her hips, anyway.
I looked down at her. This was, actually, as good as it was gonna get for quite awhile.
Quistis began to slide off me. I caught her arms. It was only to make sure she didn't aggravate any wounds she might have, but I blinked, thinking how it must look. Well, no one was here to see anything, and there wasn't anything to see. So nyaaa . . . eh heh heh . . .
"Even so," I muttered sullenly, wrapping my numbed arms around Quistis' unconscious figure, "I'm enjoying this way too much."
It was quiet, except for the wind. Oooh. Poetic. But still, I was thirsty, and my head hurt. Reaching up, I gingerly touched the lump on the back of my head. Flinching, I drew it back. Blood. I was really tired too, but sleep wasn't such a good idea. You know, concussions and all.
Very uncool, dying was not cool at all.
. . .
I found myself talking to Qustis' sleeping form to fill the annoying silence. And to keep myself awake. "You know," I said mildly, if a bit hoarsely, "I should jump outta exploding spacecraft more often." I peered at her slack face, with was drooling slightly on my jacket. "I mean, it isn't everyday I wake up to find a beautiful woman sprawled over me."
I grinned widely. "Why, Quistis, I didn't know you felt that way about me!"
No reaction. My grin faded. Grr. "No fun making jokes if nobody's there to laugh," I complained. I shook Quistis gently, and patted her head. "Not that you laugh to begin with. I'm gonna change that. After all, I've got two whole months with you, hmm?"
The sun was climbing higher. I checked Quistis's pulse. It was strong, and she didn't look like she was injured . . . but looks mean nothing. I blinked. "Well, Quistis, I don't wanna hurt you by accident, but we can't just lie here forever. The rocks digging into my back are kinda pointy." Pause. "And you're doing things you shouldn't be doing," I added uncomfortably.
Er . . . yeah . . .
"So, to stay, or go?" My brows furrowed, trying to think about other things.
Quistis shifted against me again.
Ah . . . "Go. Definitely go." I shook my head, trying to concentrate.
Setting Quistis gently on her side next to me, I sat up, running my hand through my hair nervously. Think, Laguna. You were on the way to Dollet from Esthar. So which desert from there to there are we in? I shook my head. Can't think . . .
"So . . ." I said slowly out loud. "Kiros will know that the Apocalypse's transmitter was destroyed - even if he didn't know that the rest of it had gone up in smoke too - and Dollet would inform Ward that I hadn't arrived for the talk thingy." I frowned. "They might be mad."
"Kios and Ward . . ." I leaned back against an especially pointy rock, but ignored it. "They'll suspect foul play." I laughed, wriggling my fingers expressively. "Dun dun DUNNN!"
Quistis was silent. I sighed. "No point talking to you, is there? Argh." I tossed my hair out of my face, but it fell right back. "Anyway . . ." I looked around. "We'll find high ground and see if we can figure out where the heck we are."
Turning to her, I smiled. "How's that for a plan. You agree?" Silence.
I took off my jacket and draped it over her. You know, with her really pale skin and all, she must burn pretty easy. Lucky she isn't into the whole let's-see-how-much-skin-we-can-show fad that everyone seems to like now, or she'd already be burnt.
I slipped my arms behind her back and under her knees, and heaved the two of us up together. I practically dropped her right after, because the blood went rushing out of my head, so I steadied myself against a larger rock and squinted to see.
She was pretty light. Not surprising, considering she was about as thin as a toothpick anyway. She's tall, too, so you wouldn't think it. I guessed vaguely at her weight, and considered asking her, before wincing at the memory of the last time I asked a woman how much she weighed.
I looked down at Quistis. Actually, with my jacket on her, she looked kinda lumpy. Shaking my head to clear it, I picked a plateau to head to.
The silence, except for a few crummy birds and my moving feet, was even more stifling than the sun. I muttered sullenly. "Stupid birds. Stupid rocks. Stupid sun. Stupid dust. Stupid sand. Stupid desert. Nah, too grassy to be desert . . . more like a dead, dead plain or field."
Silence. I blinked, frowning, plodding on. I stretched a shoulder, and winced. "Damn sun. Now I'm beginning to burn, thanks a lot, Quistis." I glared at her, and more pointedly, at my jacket.
More silence. "You know, Quistis, if you were awake, I'd talk to you." I glanced at the lumpy jacket.
. . .
" . . . ah, heck, I'll talk anyway." I kicked a rock. "You confuse me. I meet you, and you're suicidal. Miserable. Then we end up telling each other our deepest darkest secrets for no reason at all, and even though you could have killed yourself the second I left - cuz if you'd tried while I was there, I wouldn't have let you - you don't."
Bowing my head away from the light, I kept talking. "You're so . . . I dunno . . . passionate? Yeah, passionate about whatever you try, and then you have the bronze-balled gall to tell me you can't love. I'm not seeing a pattern here, Quistis." I laughed softly. "Maybe I should set you up with someone. Just to see, hmm?"
I thought about it. I didn't kow many people her age. She had been friendly with that Kinneas guy . . .
I scowled, remembering her warm tone with him, that it was SHE who had called HIM. And that ridiculous drawl of his, not to mention the topic of most of their conversation.
I felt my face grow warm as I remembered a few of the things he had said to Quistis . . . related, in the most part, to me. 'Is it true what they say about age and experience?' . . . What DO they say about age and experience? I could probably take a guess . . .
I shook my head. "No no no, BAD Laguna. Quistis, uh . . . wouldn't appreciate a setup, would you, Quistis?" I looked down mournfully at my bundle of KO'ed bodyguard. "I got a confession to make."
Shaking my head, I slowed my pace. "Good thing you're asleep, or I'd never fess up."
No reaction. "It was Kiros fault, I swear. And Ward's, cause he didn't tell me Kiros had my private line tapped. He had to screen your call, he just . . . happened to make sure I was in the room. . ." Not quite the truth, but even if Quistis was asleep, she didn't have to know that-
A voice floated up from my jacket, slightly muffled and hoarse. "I would have told you most of the conversation anyway, but I do hope you paid no mind to the second half."
I fumbled, and almost dropped her. Trying not to look guilty, I winced. "How long, exactly, were you awake?"
"A minute or so. You were talking about setting me up, I decided it would be best to stay quiet," she said slowly. "There was an extraordinarily long silence after that. I hope you weren't getting any ideas, Laguna?"
I was glad the jacket was still covering her eyes, because I could feel my face seriously heating up. Crap.
"I was trying to think," I answered, not untruthfully. "I don't know many people your age. Unless you're interested in snooty bureaucrats."
"No. And I do understand, but next time I'll know to use a payphone."
Her arm dragged my jacket off of her face. She looked . . . tired.
Blinking, I blurted out, "You look like crap."
"Why, thank you." Quistis didn't budge; if she wasn't talking, I would've thought she was still asleep. Her words hit me.
"What's this? Sarcasm? He - ey," I grinned. "Am I rubbing off on you?"
"Hyne forbid."
My hands weren't exactly free, so I bent down and bit on the collar of my jacket and dragged it back over her face. "Go back to sleep."
She didn't complain like I expected, she must be exhausted.
Looking around the barren landscape, I sighed. Its times like these that a sense of direction would be nice.
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)
I AM ON VACATION FOR CHRISTMAS. This story is on HIATUS until I get back, which is after New Year's. A few weeks . . . not that long, really . . . but the review count for this chapter had better be just as high as the last one, or I'll get mad.
On a completely unrelated topic, I need help. My strategy guide has disappeared, so from their current location (somewhere between Dollet and Esthar) where are they, and what's the closest town?
I dislike the idea that I might be moving the plot too fast. According to my little chapter guide, this chapter isn't supposed to occur for . . . two more chapters. Go figure. So the result of this is my chapter lengths being reduced slightly until this problem is fixed.
So, Laguna being ever-so-slightly fluffy. Whaddya think? Eh heh heh. Gravity will always prevail, and everything will fall into place. Eventually, things'll get . . .fiesty . . . after all, all's well that ends in lots of smoochies. Mweh heh heh.
Sorry, my muse is attacking me with a dozen plots at once, but I will fight! Ha! But still . . . I can't believe my perverted little muse thought up a Naraku/Kagome . . .