Hey! I Could Be A Messenger From Hyne, Ya Know!
A Misadventurous Romance Story
Chapter Eleven-It Can Think?(Almasy)
AN~Well, let's hope I can make this chapter better than it's predecessors....LoL. My goal in life. But that's not the point. The point is, I'm updating. Like, actually UPDATING. Yay! Oh, new chapter dedications:Saturn Angels, and Topaz. Yay! I'm loving my new reviewers! Hmmm........an interesting twist, this. You can probably guess what it is, but if you don't, then I won't spoil it for you. LoL. Off I go, to be strange! ~tiger~*is strange and listening to a nifty FF mix*
I know what you're thinking now. That this would be the part where we confessed our love for each other and lived happily ever after, right? Brrrnt! Wrong, people! I mean, do you all LIVE under that rock you somehow formulated out of sappy mush and situations with which I hadn't entirely been myself?
Oh, shit. My bad. You actually DID think that, didn't you? Heh heh heh..........sorry for laughing, but it's just too rich to be true. ME? Fall in love? Hah!
Let's compare this to a real world situation, folks. If you were at a zoo and you thought the lion looked pretty, would you go and shove your head in through the bars? To me, that was what love was like.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror on the far side of the wall, behind all those pictures on the dresser. Yup, good ol' me. Same blonde hair, same green eyes. Trademark scar that little bastard Squall gave me just because he got in a lucky shot---I'd get him for that, by the way, it was something I had to add to my list of things to do---and trademark smirk.
Only one thing was missing, and it happened to be encircled around the neck of an irritating little messenger girl who had quite accidentally(or rather, I had accidentally allowed her to do so) fallen asleep with her head against my chest. What was it, you ask? No, it was not my hand(although at times I very much wished it was). It was my necklace, the one from my mother.
Now, what was it doing on the short and perky little messenger girl, Selphie Tilmitt? Hmmm, let's backtrack.
Honestly, the girl shredded my nerves and devoured what very little patience Hyne had granted me to begin with. That damn high-pitched voice, her Rinoa-part-deux cheerfulness(although Rinoa had never been THIS bad, mind you), and her positively uncanny way of managing to irritate me with the stupidest of things.
But I'm digressing. My point is, ever since she'd arrived here in Esthar nearly two months ago, things had just gone from bad to worse. NO, it wasn't bad enough that I was the commander(something I never really wanted to be, by the way) of a run-down Garden with only fourteen instructors to start out with, and an already-growing list of enrollees, already topping 300 at first go. No, I had to have someone come and spy on me whom I couldn't tolerate for even the smallest fraction of a second.
This was something I thought of often, when I was in particularly vengeful moods............. No, wait, that was just about always, so let's just say that I thought of this when I was in a particularly vengeful mood about something the little messenger girl had done................... No, wait, that was just about always, too........... Well, you get my drift.
But I'd sit back and wonder why in Hyne's name Squall couldn't have either sent someone A.)whom I did not know, and thus would not have been able to recognize; or B.)someone I could at least tolerate, someone who's utter benevolence alone would not be the death of me.
Answer to part A---Squall's an idiot. This much anyone could deduce. Answer to part B---Squall hates me. Once again, even the most simple-minded of folk(discluding the Chickenwuss, I don't really consider him to be human at all) could deduce this. Either that, or he was smarter than I had imagined, and had thus sent l'il ol' Selphie Tilmitt down here to bug the shit outta me, and thus succeed in my otherwisely unlikely surrender.
You want to know the sad thing? It seems as though he's winning.
As I yanked off my black leather gloves and hurled them most violently at some unknown destination in the room(I'd have a helluva time finding them tomorrow, and thus receive the now-standard lecture from Tilmitt---"This wouldn't happen if you'd clean your room..."---) and stared down at the abhorring little girl.
This just somehow made me angrier.(Ugh.....this is foul shit, this. The little brat fell asleep in my lap!) Then again, I'm always angry about something. All those dorky kids in the orphanage, Squall, sitting on top of this crappy kingdom I shouldn't even have the right to rule, Squall, failing my SeeD exam 4 consecutive times in a row, Squall, women, Squall................you know how it is.
Of course, that wasn't ENTIRELY true. Squall was definitely NOT the biggest problem on my hands right now. The little messenger girl whom he had sent, was.(I could kill her, and just have maintenence clear out her body...........but then they might quit. I've never had them dispose of dead PEOPLE bodies, at any rate. So killing is out.)
Once again, not entirely true. Not about the killing part, I mean. About the WANTING to kill her part. I think I'm starting to lose my thrill for blood lust, sad though that is. It hadn't really STARTED anytime I could remember; I'd never really liked killing nor death. It was just something ya had to do.
Okay, so the basic concensus now is WHAT? It can think? It has actual thoughts and dreams and emotions? Heh, hard to believe, ain't it?
So I here was staring down at the little messenger girl and wondering why she suddenly wasn't so happy anymore. I mean, HELLO HERE, PEOPLE? You all saw it, didn't you? I GAVE her the chance to go back to fun-happy Balamb!
Then again............(and this is so pathetic I can't believe I haven't hit myself for it, yet)..............I hadn't really wanted her to leave. Oh, fuck off! It's sure as hell not what YOU think! The kids adored her, and I'd secured fifteen different private sponsors ever since that little night trip we took to Esthar, where she'd fawned all over the President and fell down a flight of steps.
Heh...........one of the more interesting times in my life, I will admit. As a matter of fact, a LOT of the more interesting times in my life had occured after she'd arrived, with her stupid bouncy-curled hair and those green eyes like lettuce gone horribly, horribly wrong.
Alright, Hyne dammit, I will grant you one thing, and one thing only:she WAS kinda cute. But I mean, if you were to put her pros and cons on a scale and see which side tipped first, her few pros that she did have would be shot upward so fast they probably wouldn't even stay on the scale, and thus fly out the window.
So, you knew about my dreams. And you're all thinking:'What a dumb retard asshole! Like, there's a such thing as saying NO, ya know?', and I wouldn't exactly blame you for it. But it all started once I read this dumb screenplay called 'The Sorceress Knight' and actually kinda LIKED the damn thing. I'm not some nerdy lit buff, but I do know how to read(once again, another one of my forthcomings over the Chickenwuss), and the thing kinda appealed to me.
It hadn't always been one of my dreams, don't get me wrong. I'm not even sure WHAT the hell my dreams were before that. And, now that I think on it more clearly this night with the full moon shining overhead and a stupid messenger girl asleep in my lap, I think that I've come to realize that being a Sorceress Knight wasn't really my dream at all. Or, perhaps more correctly, it WAS my dream, that is; until I had finally fufilled it and realized that it wasn't at all like I had had it planned out to be.
No, Edea had me defending her honor and ideas senselessly. Same with Adel, and Ultimecia, really. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Mental note to self:HIT SELF.
I did so, not too hard though, because I didn't want to wake up Tilmitt. Like, if I did, she might start TALKING again, in that whiny voice of hers.
Still, that got me to thinking. WAS I just bashing her uselessly, because I felt so bitter and self-righteous about myself? I decided to weigh the options. On one hand, she was annoying, cheerful, and believed in treating everyone with the same degree of humanity(everyone minus me, it seemed); on the other, she was pretty, brave, open-minded, friendly, and, with a small dosage of wonder training from the world's best blademaster(aka, ME), would soon turn out to be a pretty strong gunblade mistress.
Woah. Not being very well accustomed to math(I was never very dilligent in any of my classes save combat, notice), I counted up the figures on my hand. Whistled softly. It seemed that, contrary to popular belief, the pros were massively outweighing the cons. I wondered vaguely if I'd made an error, and counted again. Nope. I wasn't on crack, or demonstrating my mathematical shortcomings. She really WAS a lot better than what I'd been making her out to be.
Hmmm. I should think on this.
A thought that entered my mind most roguely(as my thoughts tend to do) was how much I wanted my coat back. Kids have their security blankets, I got my kick-ass trenchcoat. Oh, shut up. I'm not a kid, friggin' bastards. It was the only allusion I could really come up with on the spot. Like I said, lit wasn't really my thing.
I don't even remember where the thing came from. Rather, I knew how I GOT it, but not how Matron had got it. Mmmm............Matron. She knew all of my secrets, every last one. It seemed like I couldn't hide a thing from her. If I got stung by a bee or got hurt doing something retarded and recklessly dangerous, she'd always find out. And, from my mother, she'd found out how I was actually the king of this place called Palan'de'leiya, otherwise known as the Dollet Dukedom.
This got me to thinking about myself, which was never a good thing. Sometimes, I really hated myself. Whether it was for the arrogant bastard I used to be, or the weak bastard I had become, I never really knew. I thought to ask Tilmitt, but she was sleeping and her voice was so high- pitched and I already knew what she thought of me, so it would just be redundancy.
And around her neck was my necklace, the one with the flaming sword of Dollet on the front and the message from my mother on the back. And of course that just made me think about why I gave it to her in the first place.
To make her shut up? Because it had started getting that weird odor on it from wearing it in the shower all the time? Maybe, just because I had told her the simple truth---that I was tired of knowing who I was?
Who knew? Who cared? It would remain one of life's greatest mysteries. Point was, it was hers now. I decided I didn't really like that feeling, and thought to possibly ask for it back. It was this strange feeling, like she owned a part of ME, or that we were somehow connected in this bizarre, convoluted sort of way.
Then again, I'm no re-gifter. I give things for keeps. And, even if that wasn't the truth, it was at least something I could tell myself and force myself to believe it to be the truth, so that my mind would be at rest.
I felt myself growing tired, and glanced at the clock. Well, it's 3AM and I must be lonely.............not. The practical side of me took over and kicked the crap outta the other side, which is just plain dark and twisted and positively evil.
(Sleep...........)it called.(Got the missile base mission tomorrow, and Tilmitt's hardly ready to work with that Chandrakanan thing of hers, so you're gonna have to do most of the work.............)
Not surprising. Besides, I had grown accustomed to running off of small amounts of sleep. I considered waking up the little messenger girl and moving up to my hammock, but I dropped it. Bitchy girls are the last thing I need screwing up my mission.
So, I just dropped down across the bed, still being weighted down by her not-so-bulky bulk, and tried to go to sleep. With a sudden feeling of nicety(I think they called it something like 'tenderness', I'm not sure) that was most unlike me, I brushed a few stray hairs back from her forehead, where her face was still blotchy. And, I kissed it lightly.
Oh, please. Vomit. Note to self:HIT SELF.
Enh. I'd do it in the morning.
AN~*taps foot impatiently*146, 147, 148, 149......AHA! 150!!!!!*cheers* NOW I CAN POST THIS!!!!!!! Okay, thanx to all my loyal reviewers! A last-minute chapter dedication to Chrissy, for being my 150th reviewer!!! Sweet! I like this part, actually. Seifer's POV...........interesting.......... I like the humor, it was so bizarre it was funny........plus the direct narrative, which wasn't exactly what Selphie did......she did some sort of abstract narrating......maybe I should go back and change that..............*goes off into her own little world* ~tiger~*is off in her own little world*
Chapter Eleven-It Can Think?(Almasy)
AN~Well, let's hope I can make this chapter better than it's predecessors....LoL. My goal in life. But that's not the point. The point is, I'm updating. Like, actually UPDATING. Yay! Oh, new chapter dedications:Saturn Angels, and Topaz. Yay! I'm loving my new reviewers! Hmmm........an interesting twist, this. You can probably guess what it is, but if you don't, then I won't spoil it for you. LoL. Off I go, to be strange! ~tiger~*is strange and listening to a nifty FF mix*
I know what you're thinking now. That this would be the part where we confessed our love for each other and lived happily ever after, right? Brrrnt! Wrong, people! I mean, do you all LIVE under that rock you somehow formulated out of sappy mush and situations with which I hadn't entirely been myself?
Oh, shit. My bad. You actually DID think that, didn't you? Heh heh heh..........sorry for laughing, but it's just too rich to be true. ME? Fall in love? Hah!
Let's compare this to a real world situation, folks. If you were at a zoo and you thought the lion looked pretty, would you go and shove your head in through the bars? To me, that was what love was like.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror on the far side of the wall, behind all those pictures on the dresser. Yup, good ol' me. Same blonde hair, same green eyes. Trademark scar that little bastard Squall gave me just because he got in a lucky shot---I'd get him for that, by the way, it was something I had to add to my list of things to do---and trademark smirk.
Only one thing was missing, and it happened to be encircled around the neck of an irritating little messenger girl who had quite accidentally(or rather, I had accidentally allowed her to do so) fallen asleep with her head against my chest. What was it, you ask? No, it was not my hand(although at times I very much wished it was). It was my necklace, the one from my mother.
Now, what was it doing on the short and perky little messenger girl, Selphie Tilmitt? Hmmm, let's backtrack.
Honestly, the girl shredded my nerves and devoured what very little patience Hyne had granted me to begin with. That damn high-pitched voice, her Rinoa-part-deux cheerfulness(although Rinoa had never been THIS bad, mind you), and her positively uncanny way of managing to irritate me with the stupidest of things.
But I'm digressing. My point is, ever since she'd arrived here in Esthar nearly two months ago, things had just gone from bad to worse. NO, it wasn't bad enough that I was the commander(something I never really wanted to be, by the way) of a run-down Garden with only fourteen instructors to start out with, and an already-growing list of enrollees, already topping 300 at first go. No, I had to have someone come and spy on me whom I couldn't tolerate for even the smallest fraction of a second.
This was something I thought of often, when I was in particularly vengeful moods............. No, wait, that was just about always, so let's just say that I thought of this when I was in a particularly vengeful mood about something the little messenger girl had done................... No, wait, that was just about always, too........... Well, you get my drift.
But I'd sit back and wonder why in Hyne's name Squall couldn't have either sent someone A.)whom I did not know, and thus would not have been able to recognize; or B.)someone I could at least tolerate, someone who's utter benevolence alone would not be the death of me.
Answer to part A---Squall's an idiot. This much anyone could deduce. Answer to part B---Squall hates me. Once again, even the most simple-minded of folk(discluding the Chickenwuss, I don't really consider him to be human at all) could deduce this. Either that, or he was smarter than I had imagined, and had thus sent l'il ol' Selphie Tilmitt down here to bug the shit outta me, and thus succeed in my otherwisely unlikely surrender.
You want to know the sad thing? It seems as though he's winning.
As I yanked off my black leather gloves and hurled them most violently at some unknown destination in the room(I'd have a helluva time finding them tomorrow, and thus receive the now-standard lecture from Tilmitt---"This wouldn't happen if you'd clean your room..."---) and stared down at the abhorring little girl.
This just somehow made me angrier.(Ugh.....this is foul shit, this. The little brat fell asleep in my lap!) Then again, I'm always angry about something. All those dorky kids in the orphanage, Squall, sitting on top of this crappy kingdom I shouldn't even have the right to rule, Squall, failing my SeeD exam 4 consecutive times in a row, Squall, women, Squall................you know how it is.
Of course, that wasn't ENTIRELY true. Squall was definitely NOT the biggest problem on my hands right now. The little messenger girl whom he had sent, was.(I could kill her, and just have maintenence clear out her body...........but then they might quit. I've never had them dispose of dead PEOPLE bodies, at any rate. So killing is out.)
Once again, not entirely true. Not about the killing part, I mean. About the WANTING to kill her part. I think I'm starting to lose my thrill for blood lust, sad though that is. It hadn't really STARTED anytime I could remember; I'd never really liked killing nor death. It was just something ya had to do.
Okay, so the basic concensus now is WHAT? It can think? It has actual thoughts and dreams and emotions? Heh, hard to believe, ain't it?
So I here was staring down at the little messenger girl and wondering why she suddenly wasn't so happy anymore. I mean, HELLO HERE, PEOPLE? You all saw it, didn't you? I GAVE her the chance to go back to fun-happy Balamb!
Then again............(and this is so pathetic I can't believe I haven't hit myself for it, yet)..............I hadn't really wanted her to leave. Oh, fuck off! It's sure as hell not what YOU think! The kids adored her, and I'd secured fifteen different private sponsors ever since that little night trip we took to Esthar, where she'd fawned all over the President and fell down a flight of steps.
Heh...........one of the more interesting times in my life, I will admit. As a matter of fact, a LOT of the more interesting times in my life had occured after she'd arrived, with her stupid bouncy-curled hair and those green eyes like lettuce gone horribly, horribly wrong.
Alright, Hyne dammit, I will grant you one thing, and one thing only:she WAS kinda cute. But I mean, if you were to put her pros and cons on a scale and see which side tipped first, her few pros that she did have would be shot upward so fast they probably wouldn't even stay on the scale, and thus fly out the window.
So, you knew about my dreams. And you're all thinking:'What a dumb retard asshole! Like, there's a such thing as saying NO, ya know?', and I wouldn't exactly blame you for it. But it all started once I read this dumb screenplay called 'The Sorceress Knight' and actually kinda LIKED the damn thing. I'm not some nerdy lit buff, but I do know how to read(once again, another one of my forthcomings over the Chickenwuss), and the thing kinda appealed to me.
It hadn't always been one of my dreams, don't get me wrong. I'm not even sure WHAT the hell my dreams were before that. And, now that I think on it more clearly this night with the full moon shining overhead and a stupid messenger girl asleep in my lap, I think that I've come to realize that being a Sorceress Knight wasn't really my dream at all. Or, perhaps more correctly, it WAS my dream, that is; until I had finally fufilled it and realized that it wasn't at all like I had had it planned out to be.
No, Edea had me defending her honor and ideas senselessly. Same with Adel, and Ultimecia, really. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Mental note to self:HIT SELF.
I did so, not too hard though, because I didn't want to wake up Tilmitt. Like, if I did, she might start TALKING again, in that whiny voice of hers.
Still, that got me to thinking. WAS I just bashing her uselessly, because I felt so bitter and self-righteous about myself? I decided to weigh the options. On one hand, she was annoying, cheerful, and believed in treating everyone with the same degree of humanity(everyone minus me, it seemed); on the other, she was pretty, brave, open-minded, friendly, and, with a small dosage of wonder training from the world's best blademaster(aka, ME), would soon turn out to be a pretty strong gunblade mistress.
Woah. Not being very well accustomed to math(I was never very dilligent in any of my classes save combat, notice), I counted up the figures on my hand. Whistled softly. It seemed that, contrary to popular belief, the pros were massively outweighing the cons. I wondered vaguely if I'd made an error, and counted again. Nope. I wasn't on crack, or demonstrating my mathematical shortcomings. She really WAS a lot better than what I'd been making her out to be.
Hmmm. I should think on this.
A thought that entered my mind most roguely(as my thoughts tend to do) was how much I wanted my coat back. Kids have their security blankets, I got my kick-ass trenchcoat. Oh, shut up. I'm not a kid, friggin' bastards. It was the only allusion I could really come up with on the spot. Like I said, lit wasn't really my thing.
I don't even remember where the thing came from. Rather, I knew how I GOT it, but not how Matron had got it. Mmmm............Matron. She knew all of my secrets, every last one. It seemed like I couldn't hide a thing from her. If I got stung by a bee or got hurt doing something retarded and recklessly dangerous, she'd always find out. And, from my mother, she'd found out how I was actually the king of this place called Palan'de'leiya, otherwise known as the Dollet Dukedom.
This got me to thinking about myself, which was never a good thing. Sometimes, I really hated myself. Whether it was for the arrogant bastard I used to be, or the weak bastard I had become, I never really knew. I thought to ask Tilmitt, but she was sleeping and her voice was so high- pitched and I already knew what she thought of me, so it would just be redundancy.
And around her neck was my necklace, the one with the flaming sword of Dollet on the front and the message from my mother on the back. And of course that just made me think about why I gave it to her in the first place.
To make her shut up? Because it had started getting that weird odor on it from wearing it in the shower all the time? Maybe, just because I had told her the simple truth---that I was tired of knowing who I was?
Who knew? Who cared? It would remain one of life's greatest mysteries. Point was, it was hers now. I decided I didn't really like that feeling, and thought to possibly ask for it back. It was this strange feeling, like she owned a part of ME, or that we were somehow connected in this bizarre, convoluted sort of way.
Then again, I'm no re-gifter. I give things for keeps. And, even if that wasn't the truth, it was at least something I could tell myself and force myself to believe it to be the truth, so that my mind would be at rest.
I felt myself growing tired, and glanced at the clock. Well, it's 3AM and I must be lonely.............not. The practical side of me took over and kicked the crap outta the other side, which is just plain dark and twisted and positively evil.
(Sleep...........)it called.(Got the missile base mission tomorrow, and Tilmitt's hardly ready to work with that Chandrakanan thing of hers, so you're gonna have to do most of the work.............)
Not surprising. Besides, I had grown accustomed to running off of small amounts of sleep. I considered waking up the little messenger girl and moving up to my hammock, but I dropped it. Bitchy girls are the last thing I need screwing up my mission.
So, I just dropped down across the bed, still being weighted down by her not-so-bulky bulk, and tried to go to sleep. With a sudden feeling of nicety(I think they called it something like 'tenderness', I'm not sure) that was most unlike me, I brushed a few stray hairs back from her forehead, where her face was still blotchy. And, I kissed it lightly.
Oh, please. Vomit. Note to self:HIT SELF.
Enh. I'd do it in the morning.
AN~*taps foot impatiently*146, 147, 148, 149......AHA! 150!!!!!*cheers* NOW I CAN POST THIS!!!!!!! Okay, thanx to all my loyal reviewers! A last-minute chapter dedication to Chrissy, for being my 150th reviewer!!! Sweet! I like this part, actually. Seifer's POV...........interesting.......... I like the humor, it was so bizarre it was funny........plus the direct narrative, which wasn't exactly what Selphie did......she did some sort of abstract narrating......maybe I should go back and change that..............*goes off into her own little world* ~tiger~*is off in her own little world*