(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. author's note .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)
Well, life sucks. I got over it. I wasn't writers block, it was the discovery of such sites as Elfwood and Go Gaia that kept me so long . . . they ate up my computer time like the ravenous beasts they are. Grr. (Thank you, PinkOpium, for the deserved kick back in the right direction. . . heh, dudette . . .)
I also noticed – the FF8 section here on ff.net is slowing down considerably from when I first got here. Disturbing, really. Even if it's just one–shots, you should post it. . . . mebbe they'll do an Advent Children to it . . . . ? ? ?
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. quistis .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)
I frowned at the plate in front of me. The noodles, which had seemed a good idea for my ravenous stomach at the time, were now making me nauseous. I ignored the churning long enough to take a small bite, and after I swallowed, shoved the dish away from me and glared balefully at it.
That argument with Laguna had come up out of nowhere. Nowhere.
It wasn't his coarse language, I saw right through that attempt scare me away. Attempt meaning, it hadn't worked, of course; but yet it did have the potential to anger me. I was fairly certain, however, that it hadn't been the trigger.
I had blamed his faulty sense of chivalry, and taken the part of the disdainful woman looking down upon the chauvinistic man. I'd regretted that for three days now.
Was it really my offense at his effort to protect me that had made me angry? I had been protected by him before. Those matters had been of life and death to boot, instead of mere reputation. What had caused my temper to raise so much?
Was it really offense at his chivalry, which now that I looked back on it, was sweet in a strange Laguna sort of way?
Or perhaps . . . . it was anger of his rejection of me as a partner . . .
I scowled. As much as I hated to admit it, it was a possibility I had to consider. Laguna was becoming almost too important to me. I enjoyed watching him, I listened excruciatingly close to his words, I put great portent into phrases that, out of anyone else, would have been dismissed as cliché. I enjoyed far too much than necessary about the man.
I leaned back in my seat, frowning at my forgotten lunch distractedly. I had identified the source of the gnawing in my stomach; it seemed the cruel and sadistic gnawing of pure guilt in my chest was cutting my appetite severely.
Laguna had been deeply offended by something I said, and bitten back. I deserved it; I had no right to hurt him. What had I said? The anger had hindered my observation skills. . . when had he switched from protector to antagonist? Was it too late to apologize, or should I wait longer for his anger to cool? Was he still angry, or was he as guilty as I?
I winced. Why would he feel guilty? He had no need to feel guilty, it was entirely my fault. I'd probably made him feel miserable and hurt, he had no right to be anything but angry. My frown deepened, and my sense of rigidity and strict posture abandoned me.
I slumped over the table, and rested my forehead on the cool porcelain top. I wondered idly if my hair was floating into my pasta, but had only a slight interest in that as I mulled over my options. Not helping. I banged my head a few times.
I had very few. . . . options, I mean. Not much to mull over. So I began to wallow quite pitifully . . . in, well, pity. That wasn't helping the situation either, but then again, neither was sitting in the cafeteria with my hair in the fettuccini.
"Oh, Quistis . . . you look a mess."
I shot up to glare pointedly at the interrupter of my wallowing. Rinoa, tagged, of course, by Selphie. Squall and Irvine were no doubt in the area as well. I sighed, and sat back up. "What?"
Selphie tutted, wagging her finger at me. "Tsk, tsk! You don't argue with a client! It's against SeeD regulations, yeah?"
"What on earth are you talking about?" I cursed Selphie's perception. Women's intuitions weren't made to be turned upon the like gender.
Rinoa sat down next to me, ignoring my obviously foul mood to pat me sympathetically (or so she thought) on the back. "It's obvious you were fighting with Laguna . . . what's wrong?"
"Nothing! I'm perfectly fine." Of clourse I was fine! As though I would let them realize that lack of Laguna was affecting me. I grabbed my lunch and yanked it towards me, taking a bite to prove my fine-ness. And then choked and swallowed unwillingly, hoping that my feeling of having swallowed a basin of live worms wasn't showing. From Rinoa's wince, it did.
"I didn't think so," Rinoa said quietly. With all the sugary sweet worry behind that remark, she might as well have added a 'sweetheart' or 'honey' after that sentence.
"So tell me, what's up?" Selphie grinned down at me. I sighed. This was pointless, if they didn't get it out of me, they'd flee over and pry it out of Laguna. And Laguna, not being used to Selphie's 'touchy' habits, would spill everything.
"You see," I explained, placing my hand on my chin eloquently, "It really is all my fault. I should be going over and apologizing, but I'm not sure if he'll accept it."
Rinoa shook her head. "Laguna isn't in good shape either."
"Yeah," Selphie slouched, and pointed at my noodles, asking if I was going to eat them. I waved my permission, and she stuffed her face. "We," she mumbled through bites, "only knew to come to you cause Sir Laguna was actin' weird . . ."
"Weird?" I inqured rapidly, as Rinoa elbowed Selphie broadly. Selphie choked.
"She means . . . well, he's pacing the hallways upstairs, frowning." Rinoa said calmly, as though she had no part in Selphie's coughing fit. "It's easy to see where Squall got his frown from . . . anyway, he was talking to Kiros, and we heard him asking Kiros advice."
"About what?"
"Kiros apparently thought it was all Sir Laguna's fault, and told him that he dug his own grave." Selphie piped, recovering rapidly. "They said some other stuff too, but we didn't get any of it. A conference or party or something."
I nodded. "I know what that is. So, you think if I apologized . . ."
Rinoa grinned. "He'll fall over his face to accept."
I smiled, and a brief daydream of Laguna sweeping me across the dance floor crossed my mind. "This is perfect," I remarked. "Just in time for the conference tomorrow."
Selphie blinked, and Rinoa paled, which was quite a feat since Rinoa was extremely pale to begin with. I taped my glasses against the table nervously. "What is it?"
Selphie swallowed, and looked to Rinoa for permission to speak. Rinoa was in no condition to approve, but she nodded tersely. Selphie sulked, and looked p at me. "They left for the convention thingy an hour ago . . ." she faltered.
I froze.
What?
"We assumed you knew . . ." Rinoa said softly.
They had left without me.
It began to make sense . . . Of course . . . Kiros had been about to say the correct date, but Laguna cut in to give the false one. . . Laguna had regretted breaking trust, and Kiros said he dug his own grave and deserved it. Laguna had lied. I knew he didn't like to lie . . .
They . . . no, LAGUNA had lied to me. Laguna. Had. Lied. To. Me.
Laguna had never lied to me before . . . had he? I thought back to times he had spoken to me. He had told the truth to my knowledge, but in many of those matters, my knowledge was extremely limited . . .
What to do? Laguna might need me, but I had been ordered not to go, and then defied his orders once already. Now, when clearly my client did not want me, I should by the rulebook, stay put.
By the rulebook. . . I always played by the rules. Always, because the rules were relatively safe . . . but this wasn't an ordinary client, this was LAGUNA. This was Laguna, and I had broken more rules over that man then I had in my entire SeeD career. When put in that perspective, I had nothing to do but one thing . . . I swallowed tightly, to find that my throat didn't work properly.
I clamped the muscles in my throat back. "I . . . see." I managed to choke out, before getting up and heading blindly to my room. Rinoa and Selphie didn't stop me.
Kiros . . . wouldn't he have told me? No, his loyalties were with Laguna . . Damn that man! Damn you and your cursed charisma, your damn pretty eyes . . . To think I actually WANTED him. Hah! Like I could ever dream of him laying me down on silk sheets, running his strong, capable hands over me, and doing horrible, wonderful things to me until I died . . .
I shook my head. No! I'm angry at him, and I'm happy for it! Thanking Hyne briefly for my foresight of packing in advance, and grabbed the duffel bag neatly placed by my door, and briskly headed towards the Ragnorak.
I had stolen it once before, and now I'd do it again. I clamped my fist around my bags; I'd change in the ship. Even an international conference wouldn't dare refuse the hero Quistis Trepe. . . especially when she wore a red dress.
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. laguna .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)
"It was a bad move, Laguna." Kiros straightened the bow on my tux fastidiously before turning to the mirror himself. "She isn't going to be happy." He turned towards me and stared almost blankly back.
We were in one of the dressing rooms – yeah, dressing room, they treat these things like the plays they actually are – and the pink motif they had going on was really starting to annoy me . . .
I looked briefly into the mirror, but wasn't really seeing much of anything. Well, okay I take that back. I saw a lying bastard. Flinching, I turned back to Kiros.
"I know, man." I rubbed my arm spastically. "But what else was I supposed to DO?"
"Let her come." I looked at him incredulously. Like it was really that easy; to act like I had no respect for her reputation? Like I had no respect for –
"Her freedom of choice?" Kiros cut in. I blinked; I'd spoken outloud? Kiros slammed a paper down and prodded me hard in the shoulder. "You've done some pretty stupid things in the time that I've known you, Laguna, but this has gotta take the cake. . . . or at least a pretty big slice."
Cake? Where?
"She's not an idiot, Laguna, I wouldn't be surprised if she was on her way here now, hell bent on busting a cap in your – "
I grinned. "Actually, I wouldn't mind if she did."
Kiros glared. "You know what, Laguna?" he struggled for a second, his face scowling, before he just slumped slightly. "Argh, I give up. I have a few phone calls to make."
I shot him a Look, which he scoffed at, and left the room with only a slightly consoling comment. "Relax, even if I did call her, it'd be too late for her to get here now."
I avoided the mirror as I crossed the room.
I had to keep my mind blank of Quistis, I had to focus on surviving tonight so I could tell Galbadia they could up and stick it. I had to make sure that Esthar would be run over by the Galbadian army, and that the scummy politicians – not including myself of course – didn't completely wreck my country's economy.
Then I could get back to obsessing over the wonderful creature that was Quistis.
Kiros was waiting by the door into the overly extravagant ballroom – typical of Galbadian architecture – and I could hear the announcer calling out the representatives. My big entrance was coming up. I looked over at him and mouthed, 'is it time yet?'
He nodded, and I kept as out of sight as possible. It was easier than I thought, since no one was really looking for me, what with being 'dead' and all. It was kinda annoying, you know? Getting ignored? Not used to it. Eh, well hey, my status was about to change considerably. To, you know, being 'alive'.
I guess it wasn't a great idea to get into that chain of thought, cuz next thing I knew, Kiros was shoving me towards the door. "Kiros," I hissed, "Is everything ready?"
"Everyone's as clueless as humanely possible," Kiros acknowledged. "I mean, there's only so much silence money can buy." He checked my ppearance one more time. "Yup, you look ready to kill. I got your back, man. Don't worry, they haven't had time to plan to get in another shot at you."
"Yeah, I know."
Kiros gave his katal a precursory check . . . I noticed he had a whip on him, too. I guess he'd planned for Quistis but didn't completely unregister it or something. Kiros noticed my sudden queasiness and slapped my on the back. "So don't look so on edge! You're up!"
Shaking away my gut feeling, I grinned at him. "Showtime."
And I walked calmly into the room, and tapped on the annoucer's shoulder. "Hey, I think you missed someone."
The man, who had smiled instantaeneously at everyone else he had called in and practically been bubbling at to every important dignitary there, turned to me with a scowl. "Nonsense. The list has been read, see?"
I grinned at him to make him uneasy. "Aw, don't you recognize me? I'm almost," I stressed my words delicately, "hurt. Ah, well, not my job I'm gonna lose." I was still grinning, waiting for him to realize exactly who I was.
Yeah, my ego is the size of a country. It has a right to be, to, because it only took a few secs for the poor guy to pale considerably. I'm pretty sure it's unhealthy for a guy to loose that much blood to the head at once. "I, uh . . . President Laguna Loire? I didn't think . . . but you're . . ."
I turned from him and headed for the rest of the people. "Dead? Nah, it takes more than my ship to get blasted into a million pieces of flying shrapnel and debris to kill me." Seriously. They just don't make guys like me anymore. I mean, I'm funny, heroic, responsible, pretty damn sexy . . .
Lying, cheating, backstabbing . . . .
NO. I struggled to keep down my wince. Keep your mind on the scummy politicians, Laguna. No distractions.
I checked to make sure Kiros was there – a few feet away, mingling with the stewardesses – and eyed my singlemost important target for the night. Koryu Deling.
There he was, licked back dark hair, overexpensive suit, tailored to hide the still slightly obvious paunch. Looking urbane, and talking with several women half his age; the sleazeball. Look at him! He was practically drooling. I can't think of a single girl who would actually lay the guy if he weren't as rich as he was. . . . perverted . . . bastard . . .
. . . I winced . . . what the hell did that make me with Quistis, then? . . . Well, at least I didn't look at her like she was meat. Not much of a consolation.
I walked up to him, still grinning my best grin. The girls behind him saw me, and their eyes widened considerably. He didn't notice that, of course, since his eyes really weren't anywhere near their faces (If you know what I mean.)
I coughed for his attention, no reaction. I tapped his shoulder lightly, and he turned around slowly, flashing the I'm-annoyed-at-whoever-the-hell- you-are-but-you're-probably-important-so-I'll-tolerate-you smile.
Until he saw my face. He paled even more so then the other guy had, and I kept grinning, even as he began to turn even more disturbing colors that I hadn't even known skin could take. "You . . . no, wait, how are you . . ?" He looked completely and totally scared out of his wits.
. . .If, ya know, he'd had wits to begin with. Heh.
I grinned at him even wider. "Well, hey, I guess I better congratulate you on the successful usurpation, huh?"
He sputtered for a bit, but obviously didn't have much to say, so I continued right over him. "Well, hey, you know I won't hold the whole blowing up my stuff completely against you; I mean, I've got enough cash to rebuild the Apocalypse a gazillion times over." I nodded affably, and amiably continued in the tone of voice Quistis would use to discuss lunch. "Not exactly the best plan, you'd have to launch on my actual city to get anywhere."
He had shut up, finally, and looked at me blankly. I went on. "But you know, if you did blow up Esthar into tiny itty bitty pieces, how would you take advantage of our superior weaponry and ballistic defense technology, not to mention medicine, household . . ." I ticked them of my fingers. "Computer hardware – and software, communications, propulsion, space exploration capabilities . . ."
I looked over at him from the corner of my eye. "Should I continue?"
Oh yeah, cool snide remark muse, thou art my bitch.
He'd put on a slightly more smirking smile as I'd continued talking. "No, thank you. A shame you weren't able to tell us beforehand of your appearance, President Loire." Translation: Crap, I hate surprises. Why wasn't I told of this?
I toned down my grin to a slightly more . . . dangerous smile. "Well, you know . . . I've been so busy, what with chaos reigning supreme and all." Translation: If you knew, I'd be dead by now, you conniving bastard, you.
He turned back to the ladies, with a parting shot. "Well then, watch your back . . . President." Like that needed translating. And like I'd leave that soon. I grabbed his arm in a firm grip that in other circumstances might have seemed friendly.
"And you, yours." I felt my smile become more forced as I squeezed his arm harder. I didn't even squeeze that hard, but hey, he's a fat guy born to his money. This was a subtle reminder that I was a hella lot stronger than he was. Oh yeah, and he paled even more and scurried off, mumbling some crap about crap I couldn't make out.
I gave a polite bow to the ladies and shot another cursory glance around the room. Kiros was heading door again? He wasn't that creeped out, was he? I mean, the only reason he'd have to guard he door was to keep someone out, or maybe in. I mean, you, I'd scared the little weiner Koryu, but it wasn't he'd do anything drastic.
For the moment, anyhoo.
A delicate, noble-ish clearing of a throat to my right caught my attention, although a little part of me niggled that it sounded slightly . . . you know . . . like . . .
I turned around, flashing my best Hey-you-know-you-like-me-and-I-like-you diplomatic smile. And then tried not to look like I'd been punched in the gut by a moomba, which would be kind of surprising, since the furry little guys love me.
Quistis – YES, QUISTIS! – raised an eyebrow aristocratically at me. "Laguna Loire," she said slowly, in a huskier voice then I remembered her ever using. I shivered as she continued, "you have some explaining to do."
I looked around; was it just me, or did the room shrink considerably in the past ten seconds? No, seriously, every exit seemed to have zoomed to about ten miles away. The door looked tiny, and then the crowd . . . and Kiros . . . Kiros was standing at the door, glaring at me. I hated him at that point, oh yes. He sided with her, huh? Escape was out of the question . . . Oh yeah, I screwed up.
"Er . . ." I leaned sharply to the right as my leg began to clamp up on me again. "Uh, hey, Quistis!" I put up my hand in a cheery wave of greeting. "Surprise seeing you here!" I winced at my overly happy and obviously false voice.
Quistis, ever the stoic, lowered her eyebrow darkly. "I'm sure it is."
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. author's note .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)
Heh heh . . . Yessss . . . I didn't get Laguna quite right cuz I just finished writing a slew of technical crap for my group's project. No details, but . . . think 133t. joo kn0w?
You know you love me . . . so . . .
Well, life sucks. I got over it. I wasn't writers block, it was the discovery of such sites as Elfwood and Go Gaia that kept me so long . . . they ate up my computer time like the ravenous beasts they are. Grr. (Thank you, PinkOpium, for the deserved kick back in the right direction. . . heh, dudette . . .)
I also noticed – the FF8 section here on ff.net is slowing down considerably from when I first got here. Disturbing, really. Even if it's just one–shots, you should post it. . . . mebbe they'll do an Advent Children to it . . . . ? ? ?
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. quistis .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)
I frowned at the plate in front of me. The noodles, which had seemed a good idea for my ravenous stomach at the time, were now making me nauseous. I ignored the churning long enough to take a small bite, and after I swallowed, shoved the dish away from me and glared balefully at it.
That argument with Laguna had come up out of nowhere. Nowhere.
It wasn't his coarse language, I saw right through that attempt scare me away. Attempt meaning, it hadn't worked, of course; but yet it did have the potential to anger me. I was fairly certain, however, that it hadn't been the trigger.
I had blamed his faulty sense of chivalry, and taken the part of the disdainful woman looking down upon the chauvinistic man. I'd regretted that for three days now.
Was it really my offense at his effort to protect me that had made me angry? I had been protected by him before. Those matters had been of life and death to boot, instead of mere reputation. What had caused my temper to raise so much?
Was it really offense at his chivalry, which now that I looked back on it, was sweet in a strange Laguna sort of way?
Or perhaps . . . . it was anger of his rejection of me as a partner . . .
I scowled. As much as I hated to admit it, it was a possibility I had to consider. Laguna was becoming almost too important to me. I enjoyed watching him, I listened excruciatingly close to his words, I put great portent into phrases that, out of anyone else, would have been dismissed as cliché. I enjoyed far too much than necessary about the man.
I leaned back in my seat, frowning at my forgotten lunch distractedly. I had identified the source of the gnawing in my stomach; it seemed the cruel and sadistic gnawing of pure guilt in my chest was cutting my appetite severely.
Laguna had been deeply offended by something I said, and bitten back. I deserved it; I had no right to hurt him. What had I said? The anger had hindered my observation skills. . . when had he switched from protector to antagonist? Was it too late to apologize, or should I wait longer for his anger to cool? Was he still angry, or was he as guilty as I?
I winced. Why would he feel guilty? He had no need to feel guilty, it was entirely my fault. I'd probably made him feel miserable and hurt, he had no right to be anything but angry. My frown deepened, and my sense of rigidity and strict posture abandoned me.
I slumped over the table, and rested my forehead on the cool porcelain top. I wondered idly if my hair was floating into my pasta, but had only a slight interest in that as I mulled over my options. Not helping. I banged my head a few times.
I had very few. . . . options, I mean. Not much to mull over. So I began to wallow quite pitifully . . . in, well, pity. That wasn't helping the situation either, but then again, neither was sitting in the cafeteria with my hair in the fettuccini.
"Oh, Quistis . . . you look a mess."
I shot up to glare pointedly at the interrupter of my wallowing. Rinoa, tagged, of course, by Selphie. Squall and Irvine were no doubt in the area as well. I sighed, and sat back up. "What?"
Selphie tutted, wagging her finger at me. "Tsk, tsk! You don't argue with a client! It's against SeeD regulations, yeah?"
"What on earth are you talking about?" I cursed Selphie's perception. Women's intuitions weren't made to be turned upon the like gender.
Rinoa sat down next to me, ignoring my obviously foul mood to pat me sympathetically (or so she thought) on the back. "It's obvious you were fighting with Laguna . . . what's wrong?"
"Nothing! I'm perfectly fine." Of clourse I was fine! As though I would let them realize that lack of Laguna was affecting me. I grabbed my lunch and yanked it towards me, taking a bite to prove my fine-ness. And then choked and swallowed unwillingly, hoping that my feeling of having swallowed a basin of live worms wasn't showing. From Rinoa's wince, it did.
"I didn't think so," Rinoa said quietly. With all the sugary sweet worry behind that remark, she might as well have added a 'sweetheart' or 'honey' after that sentence.
"So tell me, what's up?" Selphie grinned down at me. I sighed. This was pointless, if they didn't get it out of me, they'd flee over and pry it out of Laguna. And Laguna, not being used to Selphie's 'touchy' habits, would spill everything.
"You see," I explained, placing my hand on my chin eloquently, "It really is all my fault. I should be going over and apologizing, but I'm not sure if he'll accept it."
Rinoa shook her head. "Laguna isn't in good shape either."
"Yeah," Selphie slouched, and pointed at my noodles, asking if I was going to eat them. I waved my permission, and she stuffed her face. "We," she mumbled through bites, "only knew to come to you cause Sir Laguna was actin' weird . . ."
"Weird?" I inqured rapidly, as Rinoa elbowed Selphie broadly. Selphie choked.
"She means . . . well, he's pacing the hallways upstairs, frowning." Rinoa said calmly, as though she had no part in Selphie's coughing fit. "It's easy to see where Squall got his frown from . . . anyway, he was talking to Kiros, and we heard him asking Kiros advice."
"About what?"
"Kiros apparently thought it was all Sir Laguna's fault, and told him that he dug his own grave." Selphie piped, recovering rapidly. "They said some other stuff too, but we didn't get any of it. A conference or party or something."
I nodded. "I know what that is. So, you think if I apologized . . ."
Rinoa grinned. "He'll fall over his face to accept."
I smiled, and a brief daydream of Laguna sweeping me across the dance floor crossed my mind. "This is perfect," I remarked. "Just in time for the conference tomorrow."
Selphie blinked, and Rinoa paled, which was quite a feat since Rinoa was extremely pale to begin with. I taped my glasses against the table nervously. "What is it?"
Selphie swallowed, and looked to Rinoa for permission to speak. Rinoa was in no condition to approve, but she nodded tersely. Selphie sulked, and looked p at me. "They left for the convention thingy an hour ago . . ." she faltered.
I froze.
What?
"We assumed you knew . . ." Rinoa said softly.
They had left without me.
It began to make sense . . . Of course . . . Kiros had been about to say the correct date, but Laguna cut in to give the false one. . . Laguna had regretted breaking trust, and Kiros said he dug his own grave and deserved it. Laguna had lied. I knew he didn't like to lie . . .
They . . . no, LAGUNA had lied to me. Laguna. Had. Lied. To. Me.
Laguna had never lied to me before . . . had he? I thought back to times he had spoken to me. He had told the truth to my knowledge, but in many of those matters, my knowledge was extremely limited . . .
What to do? Laguna might need me, but I had been ordered not to go, and then defied his orders once already. Now, when clearly my client did not want me, I should by the rulebook, stay put.
By the rulebook. . . I always played by the rules. Always, because the rules were relatively safe . . . but this wasn't an ordinary client, this was LAGUNA. This was Laguna, and I had broken more rules over that man then I had in my entire SeeD career. When put in that perspective, I had nothing to do but one thing . . . I swallowed tightly, to find that my throat didn't work properly.
I clamped the muscles in my throat back. "I . . . see." I managed to choke out, before getting up and heading blindly to my room. Rinoa and Selphie didn't stop me.
Kiros . . . wouldn't he have told me? No, his loyalties were with Laguna . . Damn that man! Damn you and your cursed charisma, your damn pretty eyes . . . To think I actually WANTED him. Hah! Like I could ever dream of him laying me down on silk sheets, running his strong, capable hands over me, and doing horrible, wonderful things to me until I died . . .
I shook my head. No! I'm angry at him, and I'm happy for it! Thanking Hyne briefly for my foresight of packing in advance, and grabbed the duffel bag neatly placed by my door, and briskly headed towards the Ragnorak.
I had stolen it once before, and now I'd do it again. I clamped my fist around my bags; I'd change in the ship. Even an international conference wouldn't dare refuse the hero Quistis Trepe. . . especially when she wore a red dress.
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. laguna .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)
"It was a bad move, Laguna." Kiros straightened the bow on my tux fastidiously before turning to the mirror himself. "She isn't going to be happy." He turned towards me and stared almost blankly back.
We were in one of the dressing rooms – yeah, dressing room, they treat these things like the plays they actually are – and the pink motif they had going on was really starting to annoy me . . .
I looked briefly into the mirror, but wasn't really seeing much of anything. Well, okay I take that back. I saw a lying bastard. Flinching, I turned back to Kiros.
"I know, man." I rubbed my arm spastically. "But what else was I supposed to DO?"
"Let her come." I looked at him incredulously. Like it was really that easy; to act like I had no respect for her reputation? Like I had no respect for –
"Her freedom of choice?" Kiros cut in. I blinked; I'd spoken outloud? Kiros slammed a paper down and prodded me hard in the shoulder. "You've done some pretty stupid things in the time that I've known you, Laguna, but this has gotta take the cake. . . . or at least a pretty big slice."
Cake? Where?
"She's not an idiot, Laguna, I wouldn't be surprised if she was on her way here now, hell bent on busting a cap in your – "
I grinned. "Actually, I wouldn't mind if she did."
Kiros glared. "You know what, Laguna?" he struggled for a second, his face scowling, before he just slumped slightly. "Argh, I give up. I have a few phone calls to make."
I shot him a Look, which he scoffed at, and left the room with only a slightly consoling comment. "Relax, even if I did call her, it'd be too late for her to get here now."
I avoided the mirror as I crossed the room.
I had to keep my mind blank of Quistis, I had to focus on surviving tonight so I could tell Galbadia they could up and stick it. I had to make sure that Esthar would be run over by the Galbadian army, and that the scummy politicians – not including myself of course – didn't completely wreck my country's economy.
Then I could get back to obsessing over the wonderful creature that was Quistis.
Kiros was waiting by the door into the overly extravagant ballroom – typical of Galbadian architecture – and I could hear the announcer calling out the representatives. My big entrance was coming up. I looked over at him and mouthed, 'is it time yet?'
He nodded, and I kept as out of sight as possible. It was easier than I thought, since no one was really looking for me, what with being 'dead' and all. It was kinda annoying, you know? Getting ignored? Not used to it. Eh, well hey, my status was about to change considerably. To, you know, being 'alive'.
I guess it wasn't a great idea to get into that chain of thought, cuz next thing I knew, Kiros was shoving me towards the door. "Kiros," I hissed, "Is everything ready?"
"Everyone's as clueless as humanely possible," Kiros acknowledged. "I mean, there's only so much silence money can buy." He checked my ppearance one more time. "Yup, you look ready to kill. I got your back, man. Don't worry, they haven't had time to plan to get in another shot at you."
"Yeah, I know."
Kiros gave his katal a precursory check . . . I noticed he had a whip on him, too. I guess he'd planned for Quistis but didn't completely unregister it or something. Kiros noticed my sudden queasiness and slapped my on the back. "So don't look so on edge! You're up!"
Shaking away my gut feeling, I grinned at him. "Showtime."
And I walked calmly into the room, and tapped on the annoucer's shoulder. "Hey, I think you missed someone."
The man, who had smiled instantaeneously at everyone else he had called in and practically been bubbling at to every important dignitary there, turned to me with a scowl. "Nonsense. The list has been read, see?"
I grinned at him to make him uneasy. "Aw, don't you recognize me? I'm almost," I stressed my words delicately, "hurt. Ah, well, not my job I'm gonna lose." I was still grinning, waiting for him to realize exactly who I was.
Yeah, my ego is the size of a country. It has a right to be, to, because it only took a few secs for the poor guy to pale considerably. I'm pretty sure it's unhealthy for a guy to loose that much blood to the head at once. "I, uh . . . President Laguna Loire? I didn't think . . . but you're . . ."
I turned from him and headed for the rest of the people. "Dead? Nah, it takes more than my ship to get blasted into a million pieces of flying shrapnel and debris to kill me." Seriously. They just don't make guys like me anymore. I mean, I'm funny, heroic, responsible, pretty damn sexy . . .
Lying, cheating, backstabbing . . . .
NO. I struggled to keep down my wince. Keep your mind on the scummy politicians, Laguna. No distractions.
I checked to make sure Kiros was there – a few feet away, mingling with the stewardesses – and eyed my singlemost important target for the night. Koryu Deling.
There he was, licked back dark hair, overexpensive suit, tailored to hide the still slightly obvious paunch. Looking urbane, and talking with several women half his age; the sleazeball. Look at him! He was practically drooling. I can't think of a single girl who would actually lay the guy if he weren't as rich as he was. . . . perverted . . . bastard . . .
. . . I winced . . . what the hell did that make me with Quistis, then? . . . Well, at least I didn't look at her like she was meat. Not much of a consolation.
I walked up to him, still grinning my best grin. The girls behind him saw me, and their eyes widened considerably. He didn't notice that, of course, since his eyes really weren't anywhere near their faces (If you know what I mean.)
I coughed for his attention, no reaction. I tapped his shoulder lightly, and he turned around slowly, flashing the I'm-annoyed-at-whoever-the-hell- you-are-but-you're-probably-important-so-I'll-tolerate-you smile.
Until he saw my face. He paled even more so then the other guy had, and I kept grinning, even as he began to turn even more disturbing colors that I hadn't even known skin could take. "You . . . no, wait, how are you . . ?" He looked completely and totally scared out of his wits.
. . .If, ya know, he'd had wits to begin with. Heh.
I grinned at him even wider. "Well, hey, I guess I better congratulate you on the successful usurpation, huh?"
He sputtered for a bit, but obviously didn't have much to say, so I continued right over him. "Well, hey, you know I won't hold the whole blowing up my stuff completely against you; I mean, I've got enough cash to rebuild the Apocalypse a gazillion times over." I nodded affably, and amiably continued in the tone of voice Quistis would use to discuss lunch. "Not exactly the best plan, you'd have to launch on my actual city to get anywhere."
He had shut up, finally, and looked at me blankly. I went on. "But you know, if you did blow up Esthar into tiny itty bitty pieces, how would you take advantage of our superior weaponry and ballistic defense technology, not to mention medicine, household . . ." I ticked them of my fingers. "Computer hardware – and software, communications, propulsion, space exploration capabilities . . ."
I looked over at him from the corner of my eye. "Should I continue?"
Oh yeah, cool snide remark muse, thou art my bitch.
He'd put on a slightly more smirking smile as I'd continued talking. "No, thank you. A shame you weren't able to tell us beforehand of your appearance, President Loire." Translation: Crap, I hate surprises. Why wasn't I told of this?
I toned down my grin to a slightly more . . . dangerous smile. "Well, you know . . . I've been so busy, what with chaos reigning supreme and all." Translation: If you knew, I'd be dead by now, you conniving bastard, you.
He turned back to the ladies, with a parting shot. "Well then, watch your back . . . President." Like that needed translating. And like I'd leave that soon. I grabbed his arm in a firm grip that in other circumstances might have seemed friendly.
"And you, yours." I felt my smile become more forced as I squeezed his arm harder. I didn't even squeeze that hard, but hey, he's a fat guy born to his money. This was a subtle reminder that I was a hella lot stronger than he was. Oh yeah, and he paled even more and scurried off, mumbling some crap about crap I couldn't make out.
I gave a polite bow to the ladies and shot another cursory glance around the room. Kiros was heading door again? He wasn't that creeped out, was he? I mean, the only reason he'd have to guard he door was to keep someone out, or maybe in. I mean, you, I'd scared the little weiner Koryu, but it wasn't he'd do anything drastic.
For the moment, anyhoo.
A delicate, noble-ish clearing of a throat to my right caught my attention, although a little part of me niggled that it sounded slightly . . . you know . . . like . . .
I turned around, flashing my best Hey-you-know-you-like-me-and-I-like-you diplomatic smile. And then tried not to look like I'd been punched in the gut by a moomba, which would be kind of surprising, since the furry little guys love me.
Quistis – YES, QUISTIS! – raised an eyebrow aristocratically at me. "Laguna Loire," she said slowly, in a huskier voice then I remembered her ever using. I shivered as she continued, "you have some explaining to do."
I looked around; was it just me, or did the room shrink considerably in the past ten seconds? No, seriously, every exit seemed to have zoomed to about ten miles away. The door looked tiny, and then the crowd . . . and Kiros . . . Kiros was standing at the door, glaring at me. I hated him at that point, oh yes. He sided with her, huh? Escape was out of the question . . . Oh yeah, I screwed up.
"Er . . ." I leaned sharply to the right as my leg began to clamp up on me again. "Uh, hey, Quistis!" I put up my hand in a cheery wave of greeting. "Surprise seeing you here!" I winced at my overly happy and obviously false voice.
Quistis, ever the stoic, lowered her eyebrow darkly. "I'm sure it is."
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. author's note .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)
Heh heh . . . Yessss . . . I didn't get Laguna quite right cuz I just finished writing a slew of technical crap for my group's project. No details, but . . . think 133t. joo kn0w?
You know you love me . . . so . . .