Vincent, due to his early nature, had got a good seat near the front. He watched as the auditorium filled gradually until it was completely filled. He could see several faces that were vaguely familiar, along with several faculty, including Relm and Hojo. Jenova, he noted with some surprise, looked positively ecstactic over the entire affair. He sat comfortably and waited while the lights finally dimmed, bringing the chattering crowd to silence.
A spotlight fell against the curtains, and the leader of ceremonies walked forward, smiling broadly. His short blond hair was kept behind him in a ponytail, and he wore a shirt that read "Play Fair!" on it, along with large jeans. Behind him swept a prehensile, yellow-furred tail, and around his throat was a tiny black ribbon. He smiled to everyone as he waved broadly. Vincent realized that it was the same boy that he had seen in his Human Emotions class.
"Hey everyone!"
Everyone cheered in response to his warm voice.
"I'm Zidane, and I'll be leading the Talent Show for tonight! I hope you'll all be very supportive to the people who dedicated so much of their time to help entertain you all tonight! Remember, we'll be voting by measure of applause to who wins the cash prize at the end! Two hundred Gil to whoever-"
There was a voice from the rafters. "Just shut up and start the show!"
There was a slight titter from the crowd, and Zidane shot an annoyed glance to where he had heard the voice coming from before returning to the crowd with a smile. "Well, let's get going, shall we?"
Everyone erupted into cheers, which Zidane seemed to absorb with happiness. He waved his arms dramatically, and faster then one could catch, a packet of cards appeared in his hands. He bowed slightly to the few claps he got for his trick, then walked off towards the side of the stage, the spotlight following him.
"The first act we have for tonight is the senior best known to everyone as Mukki, here with his friends for an acrobatic show he describes as 'manly tumbling'! Let's give it up!" Zidane clapped his hands, thus launching the rest of the audience into excited applause. As he settled on a chair set near the edge of the stage, the curtains slowly opened.
Standing in the center of the stage, along with mats and the like, were several men, all dressed in very tight fitting spandex and tights. Vincent raised an eyebrow in confusion, but couldn't help but snicker slightly.
What proceeded was something that Vincent could not stop laughing at to himself for some time. He didn't know why he found it so amusing, but he had to cover his mouth with his hand and look down to keep from laughing outloud. Mukki's "manly tumbling" was extremely funny. They WERE skilled, but the sheer silliness of the entire thing just couldn't be avoided.
"Hup! Hup!"
"Hup! Hup!"
The two flipped evenly off the mat and rolled across, only to be caught by their teammates, who responded with the same thing.
"Hup! Hup!"
Meanwhile, Mukki stood near the back, looking extremely proud of himself. "That's it, Bubbies! Show them what you've got!"
Vincent was aching from concealed laughter, but he refused to let it come out. Nobody else in the audience seemed to be laughing...out loud anyway.
The finale involved Mukki and all his friends forming a huge human pyramid, with Mukki on the top, heaving and panting. They all landed skillfully and waved as they "hupped" their way off the stage with more heaving and panting.
The curtain closed, and finally Vincent couldn't contain himself anymore. He burst out laughing, his normally quiet voice caught with laughter. It was only a few seconds, but he finally managed to get himself back under control. This seemed to loosen the rest of the crowd up, and they laughed a bit themselves. Judging from Zidane's equally amused expression, Vincent assumed it was supposed to be funny. Zidane gestured broadly, his tail sweeping the floor behind him eagerly.
"Thank you, thank you. Remember everyone, sign ups for Mukki's annual trip to the cabin in the mountains are in the lounge!"
The audience laughed more readily at this, and Zidane read the next card with confidence.
"Our next act comes from three of the most skilled and prolific martial arts students at our fine college, along with the professor that taught all of them everything they know! Please welcome Tifa Lockheart, Yang Leiden, Sabin Figaro, and Master Zangan!"
Everyone clapped as the curtains opened once again, and the four stood in the center stage. Tifa was a tall, muscular woman who was wearing a white tanktop, along with shorts held up by suspenders. Next to her, matching her in size, were the two younger males, Yang and Sabin. Sabin's blond hair was held back in a ponytail, and he was wearing a sleeveless purple shirt with a pair of loose fitting white pants, held by a green sash. Yang seemed to be a bit older and more dignified then his two companions, his head mainly shaved except for a braid near the base of his skull, dark brown in color that matched his eyes. He was wearing an almost matching pair of pants to Sabin's, excepting his were red and held with a yellow sash, although he was shirtless. Zangan completed the ensemble, although he was almost completely obscured in a large voluminous red cape.
Although Tifa was the only female, she more then held her own in the oncoming display.
What followed was a flurry of activity that Vincent found hard to follow. It was almost as if there was a battle going on that had been carefully scripted for days. Tifa and Yang began at first, each blow blocked and given an appropriate counterblow with such speed that Vincent could not follow. Their hands and legs became blurs, and even when Sabin joined in, making the battle going in three different directions at once, they never once faltered, each one holding their own ground, attacking and defending in the same breath. Vincent watched in amazement and some envy. He wished that he could be able to perform such feats of atheletic prowess. At points the three even did jump kicks and flips in the air, things that were so insanely smooth that Vincent could not believe they were real humans in motion. They even performed running flips off of walls.
Zangan stood to one side, watching his students solemnly, until they had been carrying on the martial arts display for quite some time. Then he drew out a pair of nunchucks from underneath his cape and threw it onto the ground between the three.
Vincent expected a scramble for the weapon, now convinced that he was watching an actual battle, but this seemed to be carefully scripted as well, with each block and punch leading them closer and closer, until Yang finally took hold of the nunchucks, weaving them around him in a whirring blur.
Zangan then tossed both Tifa and Sabin staves and continued to stand back and watch.
If the original display was amazing, this was mindblowing. Yang's skill with the nunchucks was only defeated by both Tifa and Sabin's ability with the bo's they had been thrown. Each attack parried and countered with perfection, until finally they simultaeneously stopped, each of them dropping their weapons and bowing towards the audience, their performance complete.
The applause was loud and long, and after the curtain closed Zidane had to wave everyone to calm down.
"Aren't they great, folks? Remember, Zangan's karate class meets wednesdays and fridays. Be sure to sign up!"
Vincent sat and waited, wondering which number Cid's act would be. He had long since guessed that Cid was going to be IN the Talent Show, rather then just watch it with him.
"Next up, we have one of our foremost fencing and swordsmanship instructors, abilities which everyone needs to know." He smiled at the audience, who laughed in turn. "He's been with us for ages and has decided to bless us with one of his foremost displays of skill in the sword arts, including the well reknowned QuadraSlice technique! I present Master Cyan Garamonde!"
The majority of the crowd burst into applause, although Vincent clapped somewhat awkwardly. He had never heard of Cyan before...but he most have been quite a figure to warrant such applause before the show even began.
The curtains opened revealing the man sitting on a collection of boxes that must have been moved onto the stage during the delay between scenes. In the center of the stage stood a wooden dummy. Vincent stared as Cyan slowly stood. He was dressed in very simple clothes of silver and black, a hilt at his side, no emotion shown on his face, his mouth hidden by a black moustache. Dangerous eyes glittered as he slowly drew his sword from the sheath at his side, leaping onto the floor, his black ponytail, bound with a blue piece of fabric, fluttering behind him.
Vincent's mouth hung open at Cyan's amazing show of skill. The sword flickered and moved in patterns around Cyan, whirling in every direction possible, Cyan moving along it, the sword becoming an extension of his body. Cyan moved around the stage, and Vincent could almost see the invisible enemies that Cyan was dispatching and countering all at once. Never once did he falter, or misstep, or lose his balance. His motions were fluid and solid all at once, like water, and yet he did not touch the dummy set at the center of the stage. Not able to tear his eyes away, Vincent instead began to listen to find the rest of the auditorium stunned into complete silence. The only sound was the whoosh of Cyan's sword through the air, the light sound of his footsteps against the wood boards.
He knelt, the sounds stopping, and the silence struck Vincent almost as much as what happened next.
Cyan dashed towards the dummy set at the center of the stage, his sword raised high. The sounds and actions that followed went so quickly it was hard for Vincent to follow what was happening. Cyan seemed to appear in all directions at once, pausing for a moment only once he reached a different location. In fact, at one point Vincent almost saw Cyan laughing triumphantly, althought the rushing sound of air and the sound of metal cleaving through wood made it impossible to hear.
Cyan knelt at the front of the stage, sword held behind him, completely still as the dummy behind him fell into dozens of pieces, clittering to the floor with a dull sound.
Cyan stood amidst thunderous applause, sheathing his sword and waving to the rest of the crowd. For once there was a glint of happiness in his eyes, a slight smile on his lips, and then he was back to his normal impassive self, striding off the stage.
Vincent clapped as much as anyone else. Zidane took the stage again, the curtain closing on Cyan's straight, proud form.
"And THAT'S why he teaches swordplay!" Zidane smiled at the laughter that came from his statement. "I also have to tell everyone that Master Garamonde is refusing to compete, so he's not going to be eligible to win the prize. He said he wants it to go to someone who truly deserves it."
There were a few boos from the crowd, but the majority of people cheered for his charity. Vincent found himself smiling. So not only was he skilled, he was noble as well...he had a feeling he would have enjoyed having Cyan as a teacher, however uninterested he was in swords.
"Thou art too kind, Master Garamonde!" Zidane smiled as most of the audience began laughing, although Vincent wasn't sure why. "Thank you!"
Zidane again seemed to generate the next card out of thin air.
"Our next act comes from one of our more famous female RA's, you may all know her." Zidane smiled. "She's been practicing her skill for years, and she's decided to share it all with you. Here's Freya Crescent!"
Zidane backed away, clapping, as the rest of the audience welcomed her. The curtains slid open, and Vincent watched intently.
Standing in the center of the stage, which had been cleared of the debris of Cyan's display, stood the woman, carefully composed. Vincent did a double take for a moment. She...
Freya's short white hair framed a kind, grey-furred face, framed by two large rat-like ears. She twitched her muzzle for a moment, extending her paws for a moment to greet the crowd, which clapped in response. The rat-woman, which was all that Vincent could think of to describe her at the moment, was dressed primarily in red and purples, her tail snaking along behind her with a single ribbon attached near the end. Balanced on careful footclaws, she gestured to the sidelines, nodding once.
A careful harp melody began, and Freya let her arms rest at her sides, her eyes closing for a moment. Shortly after the harp began, the drums and the rest of the melody kicked in, and then Freya began to dance.
With a sharp clicking motion, Freya kicked her legs forward in short, controlled movements. The clicking of her footclaws went along perfectly with the music that was accompanying her, and not once did she ever move her arms. She lept slightly, performing a delicate spin, and her tail swayed along with the lively melody that continued to increase in speed and tempo. The clicking of her footclaws actually began to add to the music itself instead of accompanying it, and she performed another leap before finally coming to a stop, her feet and the music stopping at the same time. She bowed as the crowd clapped and cheered for her, Vincent among them. He had never seen a dance like that before.
"Thank you, Freya!" Zidane smiled as he walked back on stage, and Freya waved as she exited stage right. "She's been doing that for years, you know. Now for more on the musical front, we have someone who's been singing for years, particularly opera, we have one of our foremost students in both the liberal and physical arts, Celes Chere! Everyone, give her a hand!"
Everyone in the audience clapped as the curtain opened once again.
The music began at first, slow and sad. The tone hit Vincent very hard, it nearly brought him to tears. It sounded so familiar to him, something that reminded him of a previous tragedy...
Slowly the light began to build near stage right. The woman sitting on the edge of the boxes, which had been replaced, seemed to radiate strength and yet, a very strong sense of sadness. She had one leg curled up near her chest, her arms near her sides, protected by orange bracers. She was wearing a matching pair of pants and an orange vest over a dark purple tanktop underneath. She turned to face the audience slowly, her long blonde hair moving past her shoulder slowly. Vincent felt a deep pang of sadness, and he wasn't sure why.
She let her leg fall, leaning back for a moment, her eyes closed. When she sang, her voice was planitive and sad, and fit the mood of the music perfectly.
Oh my hero, so far away now
Will I ever see your smile?
Love goes away, like night into day
It's just a fading dream...
At this point the music picked up from the sparser feeling it had originally, again manipulating Vincent's emotions beautifully. He could almost feel himself putting a hand over his heart as she began singing once again.
I'm the darkness, you're the stars
Our love is brighter than the sun
For eternity, for me there can be,
Only you, my chosen one...
She stood slowly, moving down the boxes for a moment, her voice never changing or altering as she moved. However, the language she was singing in changed, and she handled this with such skill that it was hard to remember she had originally been singing in English.
Amor mio, caro bene,
Perché vai lontan da me?
Giurasti un amor, che mai non dovea
Aver fine per noi...
Nei momenti...di tristezza,
Nei momenti di dolor,
A te, mia stella, penso
Con infinito ardore...
She stood in the center of the stage, her voice clear and beautiful, as she held out her arms. She looked so strong, and yet she was so beautiful all at once. Again the language changed, and she handled it masterfully, her pronounciation perfect.
Itoshi no...anata wa...tooi tokoro e?
Iro asenu, towa no ai, chikatta bakari ni
Kanashii...toki ni mo...tsurai toki ni mo,
Sora ni furu, ano hoshi o, anata to omoi...
She held the final note beautifully, the music ending with her, and she bowed, her hair moving past her shoulders lightly. As the curtains closed, Vincent clapped loudly, feeling both touched and moved by her performance. Someone in the crowd began shouting.
"Mariaaaaaaa!"
"Setzer, sit down!"
However, Vincent felt that she did not get the praise she deserved, and wondered if maybe no one was as sympathetic to the song as he was. Shrugging, he waited until Zidane took the stage again, wiping away a fake tear. He waited for the applause to die down before speaking again, which took a little while. Although Celes didn't get as much applause as, say, Cyan, the ones who did applaud for her applauded for a long time.
"Beautiful, wasn't it? A big thanks to Celes for that wonderful performance. Next up..." Another card seemed to materialize in Zidane's hand, and he read off it with a flourish. "We have the Iron Qu competion, with Quina Quen, Quale, and Quan! Let's give them a hand!"
Vincent clapped obediantly, making a note to ask Celes later what the name of the aria she had sung was, and waited.
When the curtain opened again, there were standing three of the most bizarre things Vincent had ever seen, amidst a collection of culinary goods, equipment, and accessories that had been gathered for their act. They were beyond description, except they all had exceptionally long tongues and were dressed like cooks.
Since the last few acts had been so deadly series, this was a welcome break. The competition was very funny, with many comic mishaps and the like. Quina demonstrated her (or was it a he?) ability to flip pancakes perfectly into its mouth, although it did miss with one, striking Quale in the head with it instead. Vincent felt a lot better watching them, as the aria had left him feeling sad inside for some reason. He smiled as they dashed back and forth cooking various things, and finally ending up with an actual large buffet, which they stood in front of proudly.
Zidane walked forward again, clapping for them. "Thank you, thank you! Anyone who wants to sample the Qu's cooking can go outside after the show."
Although the creatures did look very odd, they could cook, Vincent could tell by his sense of smell, and he made a note to go visit the table afterwards.
"After our next act we'll have a short break, then go back on schedule, okay everyone?" Zidane smiled and flipped another card out of seemingly nowhere. "Our final act for now is going to be performed by some of Cyan's best students, Kain Highwind and Cecil Harvey!"
Vincent jerked as he heard the familiar last name, but the person who walked on stage did not look familiar to him at all. He stared in confusion, not sure of what to make of someone with the same last name. Cid had never mentioned a brother, and they didn't look anything alike.
Cecil and Kain were decked out in what seemed to be prop armor, Kain equipped with a dragon-like headpiece, while Cecil's looked more like a hawk. Kain had a long spear, while Cecil was carrying a sword. The two of them saluted eachother.
"I shall disobey his majesty! The crystals belong to the world!" Cecil called out over-dramatically.
"Then you shall die for disobediance! His majesty's wish is law!" Kain seemed to be a bit more skilled, his voice not quite as forced. Both advanced at once, and then began to clash.
Vincent watched with interest. They were skilled indeed. They parried and dodged, and they had momentary power struggles, usually during which Cecil would lose. At one point Cecil even lost his sword, knocked to one side by one of Kain's more powerful strikes, and he rolled quickly to retrieve it. The battle finally ended with both of them apparently stabbing one another at the same time, slumping to the stage in mock death. As they stood and bowed, the audience clapped for them eagerly, Vincent among them.
The curtain closed, and Zidane took the stage once again. "Thank you for that display, Cecil and Kain! There will now be a short intermission! Feel free to walk around or get something to drink."
Vincent didn't feel uncomfortable, so he simply sat where he was, watching the rest of the audience get up and move around.