It's Okay To Cry 3
Quistis Trepe was bored again. It seemed to her that she was only ever bored or lonely, and there was no other emotion in her soul. She'd been really bored lately; bored with the job she had at Garden. After her Instructor's license had been revoked, Squall and Cid had decided to appoint her as an admin assistant. Sure, Quistis was neat and precise, but she was no empty-headed secretary. She'd been in her tiny broom-cupboard come office for hours and seemed to have finished everything. Her 'in' tray was empty, most was filed away in folders of varying shades of pink, and that in her 'out' tray was folded and placed neatly in the mesh frame. She had been bored outside of the office too. There were only so many times you could go to the Training Centre and beat up on grats and the odd T-Rexaur that now just seemed to fall at her feet without so much as a fight. She'd trained up so much since they'd got back, that the monsters just seemed to flee in front of her. Now that all her friends were lovey-dovey, she had noone to go out with. She missed the days not so long ago where she and Selphie would go shopping, or when Irvine would go with her into Balamb at night, only ever to protect her from scummy men. Now all those days had vapourised like morning dew, and Quistis couldn't quite grab them back. She was lonely, and all she wanted was a friend. Not a Trepie, a friend who would spend time with her.
She leant her chin on her hand and gazed at the door, willing time away; willing her life away. She didn't even know why she wanted it to be 1700 hours, because she'd be just as bored then. At least though, she wouldn't be stuck in a cramped beige office with just her thoughts for company. She sighed and straightened her pens up so that they were just parallel to each other; a habit that she'd never broken. The door swung inward suddenly, spilling blue-white light over her ecru carpet, a shadow in the middle of the light. The shadow spoke with an all-too-familiar voice.
"Quistis, I'd like you to do something for me", there would have been a time where she had longed to hear those words from that mouth, but now they held no promise.
"Yes, Squall. What is it?", she said, flicking her hair back over her shoulders. 'Really should get a haircut'. He approached her and placed a slim volume on her desk. She cast her eyes over the moss-green cover and wrinkled her nose delicately.
"It's a mission brief, Quistis", her heart jumped at the chance to get out of this place and do something exciting for a change. Squall continued.
"I'd like you to take it to the resources department and have it photocopied ten times. If you could return the original to me, then I'll tell you what next", he finished, turning smartly on his heel. Quistis seethed inwardly and gritted her teeth.
"Of course sir, I'll do your running around after you, sir. Hyne only knows why you're too busy to do it", she bit out angrily, and got to her feet. She grabbed her chain-whip and stomped out of her office, the electronic door humming closed behind her. There was a light 'ping' as it locked itself.
Quistis strode angrily down the corridor, the booklet clenched tight in her fist. She was creasing it, but she didn't care. She didn't care about anything Squall did anymore, that part of her life was over. She dreamed of getting away from this flying blue prison, and setting up her own shop, or café or restaurant; anything to get away from this hell-on- wings. There was no way she could leave though; she didn't have as much money as she'd hoped, and by her careful calculations, she needed to earn a Garden salary for at least another five years. Quistis would be here until she was twenty-five, it was almost certain. She was annoyed, and overlooked, and lonely here, and there was no way she could remain here any longer. As she opened the resources department door, she debated drafting a resignation on her return. Shaking her head free of those thoughts, she put the booklet on the main table.
"Excuse me, Commander Leonhart would like ten copies of this", she said to the woman standing by a photocopier. The middle-aged woman smiled kindly, some slight wrinkles appearing near her eyes, and picked the booklet up.
"SeeD missions, eh? I was a SeeD not that long ago you know. Then I got stuck in here. I was too good to lose, but not quite up to scratch to be a SeeD", she said softly. Quistis frowned. This woman was exactly what Quistis was going to be.
"It'll take a little while", the woman informed her, turning away. Quistis moved toward the door, she had to get out or else she'd scream.
"I'll come back", she said, turning and striding purposefully down the hallway to the exit. She flashed her I.D card at the gate-guard and ran down toward the Balamb beach. There was no way she'd work there for the rest of her life. The woman sounded exactly like Quistis. Good old Quistis Trepe, so reliable and precise, too good to lose to another Garden, or another company, but not quite SeeD standard anymore. She'd peaked at eighteen, and it was all downhill from there. Quistis scowled as she sat in the sand, and unseen behind her passed a shadow in a grey coat.
Quistis Trepe was bored again. It seemed to her that she was only ever bored or lonely, and there was no other emotion in her soul. She'd been really bored lately; bored with the job she had at Garden. After her Instructor's license had been revoked, Squall and Cid had decided to appoint her as an admin assistant. Sure, Quistis was neat and precise, but she was no empty-headed secretary. She'd been in her tiny broom-cupboard come office for hours and seemed to have finished everything. Her 'in' tray was empty, most was filed away in folders of varying shades of pink, and that in her 'out' tray was folded and placed neatly in the mesh frame. She had been bored outside of the office too. There were only so many times you could go to the Training Centre and beat up on grats and the odd T-Rexaur that now just seemed to fall at her feet without so much as a fight. She'd trained up so much since they'd got back, that the monsters just seemed to flee in front of her. Now that all her friends were lovey-dovey, she had noone to go out with. She missed the days not so long ago where she and Selphie would go shopping, or when Irvine would go with her into Balamb at night, only ever to protect her from scummy men. Now all those days had vapourised like morning dew, and Quistis couldn't quite grab them back. She was lonely, and all she wanted was a friend. Not a Trepie, a friend who would spend time with her.
She leant her chin on her hand and gazed at the door, willing time away; willing her life away. She didn't even know why she wanted it to be 1700 hours, because she'd be just as bored then. At least though, she wouldn't be stuck in a cramped beige office with just her thoughts for company. She sighed and straightened her pens up so that they were just parallel to each other; a habit that she'd never broken. The door swung inward suddenly, spilling blue-white light over her ecru carpet, a shadow in the middle of the light. The shadow spoke with an all-too-familiar voice.
"Quistis, I'd like you to do something for me", there would have been a time where she had longed to hear those words from that mouth, but now they held no promise.
"Yes, Squall. What is it?", she said, flicking her hair back over her shoulders. 'Really should get a haircut'. He approached her and placed a slim volume on her desk. She cast her eyes over the moss-green cover and wrinkled her nose delicately.
"It's a mission brief, Quistis", her heart jumped at the chance to get out of this place and do something exciting for a change. Squall continued.
"I'd like you to take it to the resources department and have it photocopied ten times. If you could return the original to me, then I'll tell you what next", he finished, turning smartly on his heel. Quistis seethed inwardly and gritted her teeth.
"Of course sir, I'll do your running around after you, sir. Hyne only knows why you're too busy to do it", she bit out angrily, and got to her feet. She grabbed her chain-whip and stomped out of her office, the electronic door humming closed behind her. There was a light 'ping' as it locked itself.
Quistis strode angrily down the corridor, the booklet clenched tight in her fist. She was creasing it, but she didn't care. She didn't care about anything Squall did anymore, that part of her life was over. She dreamed of getting away from this flying blue prison, and setting up her own shop, or café or restaurant; anything to get away from this hell-on- wings. There was no way she could leave though; she didn't have as much money as she'd hoped, and by her careful calculations, she needed to earn a Garden salary for at least another five years. Quistis would be here until she was twenty-five, it was almost certain. She was annoyed, and overlooked, and lonely here, and there was no way she could remain here any longer. As she opened the resources department door, she debated drafting a resignation on her return. Shaking her head free of those thoughts, she put the booklet on the main table.
"Excuse me, Commander Leonhart would like ten copies of this", she said to the woman standing by a photocopier. The middle-aged woman smiled kindly, some slight wrinkles appearing near her eyes, and picked the booklet up.
"SeeD missions, eh? I was a SeeD not that long ago you know. Then I got stuck in here. I was too good to lose, but not quite up to scratch to be a SeeD", she said softly. Quistis frowned. This woman was exactly what Quistis was going to be.
"It'll take a little while", the woman informed her, turning away. Quistis moved toward the door, she had to get out or else she'd scream.
"I'll come back", she said, turning and striding purposefully down the hallway to the exit. She flashed her I.D card at the gate-guard and ran down toward the Balamb beach. There was no way she'd work there for the rest of her life. The woman sounded exactly like Quistis. Good old Quistis Trepe, so reliable and precise, too good to lose to another Garden, or another company, but not quite SeeD standard anymore. She'd peaked at eighteen, and it was all downhill from there. Quistis scowled as she sat in the sand, and unseen behind her passed a shadow in a grey coat.