Tifa's Bogus Journey
Chapter Two: Half in the Bag
Well, back with chapter two. Glad I got such nice reviews. And sorry to whoever didn't like the typos. Can't always be helped. I don't proof check my humor stories all that closely. Just pretend like they're not there. This chapter is a little..... well, its possibly tedious. Because those two 'author-created types' needed their long-winded back story and description, as is standard for this kind of stuff. And the mystery behind Tifa's chest revealed (though I feel sullied. Oh so sullied). And the title can mean two things. It could do with the kidnapping plot, or if could do with the fact that I was indeed 'half in the bag' when I wrote this (half drunk).
Remember, I don't own FF7 or any characters (except for those two 'author-created types'), and no insults are intended to any authors or stories. All in good fun. Clichés happen to even the best authors. Enjoy, and please review if you want to see more(that way I know people aren't disgusted by my poking fun and just simply hit the 'back' button).
..........
Tifa and the two author-created characters were having themselves a good old-fashioned staredown, the likes of which had only been whispered about for hundreds of years. If the 'fic hadn't been just ground to a screeching halt by Tifa, they'd be trying to kill each other with their minds, trying to bend the other's will, or shooting lasers from their oddly- colored (yet completely naturally-colored) eyes or some seriously powerful shit.
But no, Tifa had had enough, so they'd just have to settle for furious, squinty glares, waiting for someone to blink. The silence loomed, until Tifa broke through it with a mighty, furious:
"What the fuck did you do to my door?!"
Both "Bitchy Female that Hates Tifa Just Because" and "Creepy Obsessed Guy From Tifa's Past" flinched back at the sound of her voice, not sure what to make of her sudden turnaround.
For the whole time she had been unusually docile, lovelorn and spineless, unable to train, or eat, or even take a piss without moping around about her fear that Cloud wouldn't reciprocate her feelings. And when Cloud hadn't been around, she'd mope to other characters about her 'situation' with Cloud, and then mentally berate herself over how Aerith had always been better than her. And then, in fight scenes, she'd turn out to be injured, and would need Cloud to coddle her in order to get her to make a miraculous recovery from the brink of death.
"......Vell, uh, ve used our incredible powers and knocked it off of its hinges. And, now, ve are going to kidnap you, so, uh-"
"What in the Hell kind of accent is that supposed to be?! And what the Hell are you going to do about my door?!" Tifa cut her off in a fury, hands clenching into tight fists, her knuckles white and shaking. She wanted to get on with the ass-stomping anyway, even though it would be one- sided. In her favor.
Yes, Tifa was angry. Downright furious. She is able to show that emotion you know, and not just when mad at Cloud because he still loves a dead chick more than he loves her. Her front door was ruined. And to top it off, "Bitchy Female that Hates Tifa Just Because" had some sort of messed up speech impediment, which might have been an attempt at a Russian- type accent. But God only knows what they were aiming at for that one. Jeesh.
"Bitchy Female that Hates Tifa Just Because" paused, clearing her throat delicately, tucking a few strands of her sable-streaked lilac hair away from her cat-like neon pink eyes. I know what you're thinking, and yes, she was born with that hair and eye color. And those knock-out knockers of hers were 100% real. And her measurements were 36-24-36. And she could fight, run, dodge thousands of bullets from Barret's gatling gun, climb ladders, do Matrix-type ass-kicking moves, and I'm pretty sure she could also bust out some break dancing moves while wearing a pair of four inch stilettos. And she wore an extremely tight leather outfit, and even though she got into fights lasting eight chapters and had chased our heroes around Costa del Sol, not once had she complained about chafing, swamp-ass, or even heat stroke.
And I'm sure she could do some other special tricks, like summon up fire without use of flint or tinder, or possibly having some tricked-out limit attack that would totally devastate everyone in a five planet radius. Or maybe she could change into a werewolf or vampire or something cool. Because, y'know. Just because.
Truly, she was an unimaginable force to be reckoned with. And yet, Tifa was in the mood to do some reckoning. Right upside her pretty, perfectly-coiffed skull.
"Look, sweet-cheeks, I don't know why this door is so important to you, but, ah, we're supposed to be kidnapping you here, and maybe you should vault over the bar, knee me in the groin once or twice, then have your injury mysteriously flare up just as it seems you'll drive us away, and then let us punch you into squealing submission, then lug you back to our hideout in this big burlap sack. And then we can listen to you whine about needing Cloud to come save you since he promised when you were young that whenever you're in a bind, he'll come save you, despite the fact that for the most part, it was Barret that would pull your fat out of the fire when you landed in a tight spot." "Creepy Obsessed Guy From Tifa's Past" drawled lazily, shrugging.
He was a force to be reckoned with as well. For one thing, he didn't wear shoes. Hell, he didn't even wear Ho Chi Minh sandals or anything like that. He was completely barefoot. And yet, he could bust through a window and not gouge his feet open on the broken shards of glass on the floor, and he could walk into any establishment he wanted to, and the proprietor therein would be too stunned by his awesomeness that they wouldn't attempt to enforce the 'No Shirt, No Shoes, No Service' rule.
But then again, that law probably didn't even exist in Final Fantasy 7 continuity. After all, Nanaki could prance about, be a veritable man- about-town even, and never be questioned for being in any establishment, despite his surprisingly noticeable status as a quadruped. With a flaming tail. Of course, half of Barret's right arm was a gun, and yet, even that failed to pique any eyebrows. Especially blasé were the autor-created characters, who thought massive gun arms just weren't ridiculously overhauled enough when it came to ridiculously overhauled weaponry. They were all fighting with spiked flails, or crossbows, or razor fans thrice the size of their own head, or they were possibly just kicking their enemies in the chest with their bare, and terribly dirty feet.
"Creepy Obsessed Guy From Tifa's Past" was quite the snazzy dresser himself. As opposed to "Bitchy Female that Hates Tifa Just Because"'s all leather ensemble, he dressed simply, in loose white slacks and an unbuttoned white duster, which revealed his rock-hard, washboard abs, riddled with mysterious battle scars. Swoon! He had long rugged hair, that wasn't quite a mullet, but at the same time it wasn't exactly not a mullet. But he managed to pull it off flawlessly all the same. He had shimmering, sparkling, enticing, glow-in-the-freakin'-dark emerald eyes, and a soul patch. I know what we're all thinking right now: He probably looks really stupid. But you all thought wrong, because before he made his debut in this action-drama, he had one of those Queer Eye makeovers. Well, that and his 'dangerously attractive' features more than make up for his humiliating attire and grooming. Beside, his suit was practically magical. He could be sucker punched by Elena square in the nose at some point, and even though the bridge of his nose would be shattered, and blood would be spurting everywhere, not one crimson droplet would sully his beloved coat. The same went for if their team tussled with AVALANCHE in the middle of a rain storm, and he got knocked down, skidding on his back across muddy cobblestones. He'd jump back up, unfazed, and with his coat and trousers white as ever.
His obsession with Tifa stemmed from long ago, when he traveled with Zangan or something like that. Anyway, he and Tifa probably met, and sparred, and though he was Zangan's best pupil at the time, she handily upstaged him. And then she became Zangan's best pupil. And with that minor loss of status, "Creepy Obsessed Guy From Tifa's Past" became creepy and obsessed with dear Tifa. He followed her exploits closely, saving every newspaper clipping that he could find with her name in it, taping reports on the Shinra Nightly News that dealt with the AVALANCHE threat, and even secretly stalking her every now and again.
He was, obviously, a martial artist as well. And even though he had left Zangan's tutelage the moment Tifa had upstaged him, he somehow knew all of the same techniques as Tifa, most likely due in part to his obsessive desire to know everything about Tifa. So he could do all of her moves. Even Final Heaven, though it was explicitly a Tifa-Only sort of deal.
Well, okay, not all of her moves. He still didn't understand how to get a dolphin to appear for Dolphin Blow. But that was Tifa's big martial arts secret. Before she'd do her limit combo, she'd slip her unwitting target some Acid. Then, once they started trippin', she'd unleash the combo, and the enemy would 'see' a dolphin. Or possibly an orange striped polar bear, but for the most part, a dolphin. But that's not quite important now.
What was important was what he was planning to do to her once they succeeded with the kidnapping. He'd probably berate her, dredge up the past, beat up on her while she was tied up and defenseless, or maybe just keep up the creepy factor and try to get frisky with her. Bom-chicka-bow- wow. Rawr.
And yet, the kidnapping didn't exactly look as if it were going to go over as smoothly as it was supposed to. She seemed about ready to destroy them, and had no intentions whatsoever of getting punched into squealing submission, or tossed into a big burlap sack.
"That door is important to me because it's supposed to keep assholes like you out of my bar, and out of my house! It wasn't even locked! You could have walked right in, but no, you had to be all 'unstoppably bad ass'! Now what am I supposed to do? Put up a board or something? That'll look so fucking stupid!" She raged, causing the two author-created types to exchange a glance, grimacing and shrugging.
This wasn't supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to care about a door. Cloud was supposed to be the only thing she was to care about. Nothing more, nothing less.
"Bitchy Female that Hates Tifa Just Because" sighed and stepped closer, grabbing her by the collar of her shirt, attempting to haul her over the bar and toss her in the sack, trying to save face and end the kidnapping scene on time, so they'd be leaving approximately three minutes before AVALANCHE got back to their base of operations, and were befuddled by the destruction, and absence of Tifa.
"Vell, ve're very sorry about your door, but ve, cannot be responsible for damage to your property. Ve are here to kidnap you, so kindly, get in the bag if you vill."
Tifa pushed out of her vice-like grip, glaring daggers, her finger pointing at them accusingly.
"I don't care if you are supposed to be unstoppably powerful. And I don't care if this is supposed to be a kidnap scene. I'm not going to get in that bag, and I'm not going to do anything else until you fix my fucking door!"
"But we don't have time! And besides, destruction of your fine establishment is always the norm in these situations. You'll just have to roll with it. Now will you please just-"
But "Creepy Obsessed Guy From Tifa's Past" stopped abruptly, as Tifa reached into her shirt (and apparently her brassiere), and pulled out two massive, clear, gel-like objects, dropping them on the ground with a dull splat. They appeared to be roughly the size of a human skull. And they almost looked like giant jellyfish or something. There also appeared to be a few bullets embedded in one of them.
"There, I'm done. That's it. Story's over." She said simply, kicking at the two objects spitefully.
Both author created types stared at the things in shock and mild disgust, not sure what to make of them. How had these two things managed to stop the plot line cold? The looked like..... Looked like.....
".....Are those breast implants?" "Creepy Obsessed Guy From Tifa's Past" asked in mild horror, glancing up at her from the horrific beasts on the floor. Her shirt seemed to fit a lot more comfortably now.
Tifa sighed, nodding her head in resignation.
"Well, they're actually saline-filled sacs that I have to put into my bra to enhance my natural bust. You see, seven years ago, CG was kind of a tricky subject. My chest was a bit over proportioned, Cloud's torso was kind of malformed looking, and Barret was oddly disproportionate to everyone else in the world. But nobody remembers Cloud's torso or Barret's giganticism. Nobody went around on Final Fantasy 7 forums saying 'OMG d00d, Barret's ph337 r huge!!!!!!1111!!' It was all 'OMG d00d, her b00bs r huge!!!!1111!!' Ever since then, almost every plot I've been in has had me with an outlandishly large bosom. So I have to wear those to keep everyone happy."
"But vhy didn't you just refuse to vear them?" "Bitchy Female that Hates Tifa Just Because" asked sympathetically, her own ample assets a curse as well.
"Because that's what everybody else is doing. And nobody cares, they just go along with it, and then people think I'm a woman of few morals. I gave up arguing after a while. Besides, in these action type dilemmas, they cushion blows to the chest and are thick enough to stop bullets."
Both author-created types, hung their heads, feeling really bad about themselves all of a sudden. They had never realized that Tifa (and all the other FF7 crew along with her) had had to endure a sort of 'Groundhog Day' with fan-created plotlines, having to do the same thing over and over again, with minimal alterations.
"Creepy Obsessed Guy From Tifa's Past" wiped a tear from his glow-in- the-freakin'-dark eyes, throwing down the burlap sack.
"I'm so sorry." He sighed in a choked voice, shaking his head. "I would have never wasted so many years of my life obsessing over you if I had known that this was what it'd come to."
Tifa looked between them, the frown still tugging at her lips. She felt kind of bad for them. After all, they hadn't known any better.....
"What are your names anyway? I mean, "Creepy Obsessed Guy From Tifa's Past" and "Bitchy Female that Hates Tifa Just Because" are really tedious to keep saying over and over again."
"Bitchy Female that Hates Tifa Just Because" immediately perked up, striking a pose, sticking her chest out, head tossed back.
"Vell, glad you asked. My name is Janichyka Ivanka Robinasayakanovich-Schweizer."
"And though you're supposed to remember me from our interaction years back, I'm Drakengard Louisiana, Esquire..... The Third."
Tifa rolled her eyes. Talk about over the top, tedious names. What was with these author-created types having names that were never shorter than three syllables? Sighing she glanced at them shaking her head.
".....Okay. Anyways, Jim-Jam," she paused, glancing over at Janichyka, "Greg," she turned her attention to Drakengard, "I'm sorry, but I just can't put up with this crushing web of clichés any more. Sorry to put you guys out of a story, but I'm just not going to keep this charade up any longer."
'Jim-Jam' and 'Greg', as they had been so christened by Tifa, merely nodded waving it off.
"No problem. I didn't really feel like getting blown up in the fifth- to-last chapter anyway." 'Jim-Jam' shrugged, falling out of her pose into a slouch, kicking off her stilettos. Hey, since the story had been stopped and all, why not?
"But is it really that bad Tifa? I mean, sure some stories can follow a pattern, but it can't possibly be as bad as you make it sound." 'Greg' put in, causing Tifa to shake her head, steadfast in her accusations.
"Do you know how many times Cloud has done something to piss me off and cause me to run away, and I end up running into Vincent and shacking up with him? Can you guess the number of times I've had to get into a hair- pulling bitch-fight with Aerith over Cloud, in a misguided attempt at humor?"
"Well, geez..... couple times?"
"Hundreds. Perhaps even thousands! And I've had enough! It's not just action-drama, this whole damn system is corrupt!" She paused, glancing over at the two author-created types, seeing that they were looking uncomfortable now that they were stripped of their chance to show off their bad-assery. 'Greg' was looking at the pitch black soles of his feet in disgust, glancing around the room for a towel or something. And 'Jim-Jam' was shifting about uncomfortably, as if her outfit were chafing her.
But then, an idea struck her. A grand idea. A crazy idea. She was back to feeling like her old self already. She felt great, ready to kick some ass. Maybe even ready to go jump out of a speeding train with Barret when Shinra noticed they had fake I.D. cards at one of their checkpoints. Yes, she was once again feeling like the Tifa Lockhart that almost everyone had forgotten about. The Tifa Lockhart with a spine. And reasonably sized breasts.
It was time to go set things right. Time to go stop the clichés.
"'Jim-Jam', 'Greg', I'm going to put some pants on, and take care of something I should have taken care of a long time ago." She announced, tugging at the hem of her miniskirt, knowing that everybody got the wrong idea about her outfit. Sure, she wore skimpy outfits all the frickin' time, but what author says, goes. She had no choice really. Well, that and she needed to be able to have freedom of movement when doing all of those kicks and matrix-type moves of her own. That, and 'modest clothing' wasn't exactly lucrative business in the heart of Midgar. Or, it was the catalyst that was used to pawn her off as the 'shifty, devious whore-type' in most of those 'Cloud and somebody who isn't Tifa' romance tales.
"Something dangerous?" 'Greg' asked hopefully, tearing his eyes away from his horrible feet for a moment.
"Might be, who knows. But I'm willing to take that risk. And seeing as how my door is rather..... not there any more, do you think that you could keep an eye on the place for me?" Tifa asked, casting a sidelong glance towards 'Jim-Jam' letting out a little growl of agitation.
"But vhere are you going? I vant to go too. I vant to go vith you, as apology for breaking your door." She pleaded sullenly, biting petulantly at her bottom lip, avoiding Tifa's gaze.
"Yeah, and if it's dangerous, we can use our unstoppably awesome powers to defend you! And if its not, we can at least find a new use for this burlap sack." 'Greg' chimed in, causing Tifa to roll her eyes and heave a tired sigh, her shoulders sagging.
"I don't know you guys. Having author-created types with crazy names and even crazier powers is cliché enough here. But if I start traveling with you, it'll become really hypocritical. Trying to stop clichés with a couple of clichés tagging along after me? It just wouldn't-"
"We'll fix your door for you if you let us tag along." 'Greg' cut in, causing Tifa to perk up visibly, nodding.
With an offer like that, how could she possibly refuse?
It was a done deal.....
.....Once she put some pants on.
"Hey do you think we could borrow some spare clothes?"
"Ooh, and some shoes too? Please?"
.....Or was it?
END TWO
Ah, 'Greg' and 'Jim-Jam'. They're such losers. They really just try to cover it up with their totally bossed-out strength. But we all know the truth. Not sure what I should really do with them, or how exactly I'm going to go about this now. I've got a couple ideas I could branch off too, but I'm not certain with which one I want to roll with. And just for the record, 'Greg' and 'Jim-Jam' aren't going to be doing much. They'll tag along loyally, but that'll be about the gist of it.
I feel a bit sullied about the whole Tifa's breasts thing. Not always a cliché, but had to be done sooner or later. With some descriptions I've found in stories, they probably would stop bullets. Or possibly Meteor itself.
Ph337. I'm not a master of leet speak, but I imagine that that might be 'feet' in leet.
Well, back with chapter two. Glad I got such nice reviews. And sorry to whoever didn't like the typos. Can't always be helped. I don't proof check my humor stories all that closely. Just pretend like they're not there. This chapter is a little..... well, its possibly tedious. Because those two 'author-created types' needed their long-winded back story and description, as is standard for this kind of stuff. And the mystery behind Tifa's chest revealed (though I feel sullied. Oh so sullied). And the title can mean two things. It could do with the kidnapping plot, or if could do with the fact that I was indeed 'half in the bag' when I wrote this (half drunk).
Remember, I don't own FF7 or any characters (except for those two 'author-created types'), and no insults are intended to any authors or stories. All in good fun. Clichés happen to even the best authors. Enjoy, and please review if you want to see more(that way I know people aren't disgusted by my poking fun and just simply hit the 'back' button).
..........
Tifa and the two author-created characters were having themselves a good old-fashioned staredown, the likes of which had only been whispered about for hundreds of years. If the 'fic hadn't been just ground to a screeching halt by Tifa, they'd be trying to kill each other with their minds, trying to bend the other's will, or shooting lasers from their oddly- colored (yet completely naturally-colored) eyes or some seriously powerful shit.
But no, Tifa had had enough, so they'd just have to settle for furious, squinty glares, waiting for someone to blink. The silence loomed, until Tifa broke through it with a mighty, furious:
"What the fuck did you do to my door?!"
Both "Bitchy Female that Hates Tifa Just Because" and "Creepy Obsessed Guy From Tifa's Past" flinched back at the sound of her voice, not sure what to make of her sudden turnaround.
For the whole time she had been unusually docile, lovelorn and spineless, unable to train, or eat, or even take a piss without moping around about her fear that Cloud wouldn't reciprocate her feelings. And when Cloud hadn't been around, she'd mope to other characters about her 'situation' with Cloud, and then mentally berate herself over how Aerith had always been better than her. And then, in fight scenes, she'd turn out to be injured, and would need Cloud to coddle her in order to get her to make a miraculous recovery from the brink of death.
"......Vell, uh, ve used our incredible powers and knocked it off of its hinges. And, now, ve are going to kidnap you, so, uh-"
"What in the Hell kind of accent is that supposed to be?! And what the Hell are you going to do about my door?!" Tifa cut her off in a fury, hands clenching into tight fists, her knuckles white and shaking. She wanted to get on with the ass-stomping anyway, even though it would be one- sided. In her favor.
Yes, Tifa was angry. Downright furious. She is able to show that emotion you know, and not just when mad at Cloud because he still loves a dead chick more than he loves her. Her front door was ruined. And to top it off, "Bitchy Female that Hates Tifa Just Because" had some sort of messed up speech impediment, which might have been an attempt at a Russian- type accent. But God only knows what they were aiming at for that one. Jeesh.
"Bitchy Female that Hates Tifa Just Because" paused, clearing her throat delicately, tucking a few strands of her sable-streaked lilac hair away from her cat-like neon pink eyes. I know what you're thinking, and yes, she was born with that hair and eye color. And those knock-out knockers of hers were 100% real. And her measurements were 36-24-36. And she could fight, run, dodge thousands of bullets from Barret's gatling gun, climb ladders, do Matrix-type ass-kicking moves, and I'm pretty sure she could also bust out some break dancing moves while wearing a pair of four inch stilettos. And she wore an extremely tight leather outfit, and even though she got into fights lasting eight chapters and had chased our heroes around Costa del Sol, not once had she complained about chafing, swamp-ass, or even heat stroke.
And I'm sure she could do some other special tricks, like summon up fire without use of flint or tinder, or possibly having some tricked-out limit attack that would totally devastate everyone in a five planet radius. Or maybe she could change into a werewolf or vampire or something cool. Because, y'know. Just because.
Truly, she was an unimaginable force to be reckoned with. And yet, Tifa was in the mood to do some reckoning. Right upside her pretty, perfectly-coiffed skull.
"Look, sweet-cheeks, I don't know why this door is so important to you, but, ah, we're supposed to be kidnapping you here, and maybe you should vault over the bar, knee me in the groin once or twice, then have your injury mysteriously flare up just as it seems you'll drive us away, and then let us punch you into squealing submission, then lug you back to our hideout in this big burlap sack. And then we can listen to you whine about needing Cloud to come save you since he promised when you were young that whenever you're in a bind, he'll come save you, despite the fact that for the most part, it was Barret that would pull your fat out of the fire when you landed in a tight spot." "Creepy Obsessed Guy From Tifa's Past" drawled lazily, shrugging.
He was a force to be reckoned with as well. For one thing, he didn't wear shoes. Hell, he didn't even wear Ho Chi Minh sandals or anything like that. He was completely barefoot. And yet, he could bust through a window and not gouge his feet open on the broken shards of glass on the floor, and he could walk into any establishment he wanted to, and the proprietor therein would be too stunned by his awesomeness that they wouldn't attempt to enforce the 'No Shirt, No Shoes, No Service' rule.
But then again, that law probably didn't even exist in Final Fantasy 7 continuity. After all, Nanaki could prance about, be a veritable man- about-town even, and never be questioned for being in any establishment, despite his surprisingly noticeable status as a quadruped. With a flaming tail. Of course, half of Barret's right arm was a gun, and yet, even that failed to pique any eyebrows. Especially blasé were the autor-created characters, who thought massive gun arms just weren't ridiculously overhauled enough when it came to ridiculously overhauled weaponry. They were all fighting with spiked flails, or crossbows, or razor fans thrice the size of their own head, or they were possibly just kicking their enemies in the chest with their bare, and terribly dirty feet.
"Creepy Obsessed Guy From Tifa's Past" was quite the snazzy dresser himself. As opposed to "Bitchy Female that Hates Tifa Just Because"'s all leather ensemble, he dressed simply, in loose white slacks and an unbuttoned white duster, which revealed his rock-hard, washboard abs, riddled with mysterious battle scars. Swoon! He had long rugged hair, that wasn't quite a mullet, but at the same time it wasn't exactly not a mullet. But he managed to pull it off flawlessly all the same. He had shimmering, sparkling, enticing, glow-in-the-freakin'-dark emerald eyes, and a soul patch. I know what we're all thinking right now: He probably looks really stupid. But you all thought wrong, because before he made his debut in this action-drama, he had one of those Queer Eye makeovers. Well, that and his 'dangerously attractive' features more than make up for his humiliating attire and grooming. Beside, his suit was practically magical. He could be sucker punched by Elena square in the nose at some point, and even though the bridge of his nose would be shattered, and blood would be spurting everywhere, not one crimson droplet would sully his beloved coat. The same went for if their team tussled with AVALANCHE in the middle of a rain storm, and he got knocked down, skidding on his back across muddy cobblestones. He'd jump back up, unfazed, and with his coat and trousers white as ever.
His obsession with Tifa stemmed from long ago, when he traveled with Zangan or something like that. Anyway, he and Tifa probably met, and sparred, and though he was Zangan's best pupil at the time, she handily upstaged him. And then she became Zangan's best pupil. And with that minor loss of status, "Creepy Obsessed Guy From Tifa's Past" became creepy and obsessed with dear Tifa. He followed her exploits closely, saving every newspaper clipping that he could find with her name in it, taping reports on the Shinra Nightly News that dealt with the AVALANCHE threat, and even secretly stalking her every now and again.
He was, obviously, a martial artist as well. And even though he had left Zangan's tutelage the moment Tifa had upstaged him, he somehow knew all of the same techniques as Tifa, most likely due in part to his obsessive desire to know everything about Tifa. So he could do all of her moves. Even Final Heaven, though it was explicitly a Tifa-Only sort of deal.
Well, okay, not all of her moves. He still didn't understand how to get a dolphin to appear for Dolphin Blow. But that was Tifa's big martial arts secret. Before she'd do her limit combo, she'd slip her unwitting target some Acid. Then, once they started trippin', she'd unleash the combo, and the enemy would 'see' a dolphin. Or possibly an orange striped polar bear, but for the most part, a dolphin. But that's not quite important now.
What was important was what he was planning to do to her once they succeeded with the kidnapping. He'd probably berate her, dredge up the past, beat up on her while she was tied up and defenseless, or maybe just keep up the creepy factor and try to get frisky with her. Bom-chicka-bow- wow. Rawr.
And yet, the kidnapping didn't exactly look as if it were going to go over as smoothly as it was supposed to. She seemed about ready to destroy them, and had no intentions whatsoever of getting punched into squealing submission, or tossed into a big burlap sack.
"That door is important to me because it's supposed to keep assholes like you out of my bar, and out of my house! It wasn't even locked! You could have walked right in, but no, you had to be all 'unstoppably bad ass'! Now what am I supposed to do? Put up a board or something? That'll look so fucking stupid!" She raged, causing the two author-created types to exchange a glance, grimacing and shrugging.
This wasn't supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to care about a door. Cloud was supposed to be the only thing she was to care about. Nothing more, nothing less.
"Bitchy Female that Hates Tifa Just Because" sighed and stepped closer, grabbing her by the collar of her shirt, attempting to haul her over the bar and toss her in the sack, trying to save face and end the kidnapping scene on time, so they'd be leaving approximately three minutes before AVALANCHE got back to their base of operations, and were befuddled by the destruction, and absence of Tifa.
"Vell, ve're very sorry about your door, but ve, cannot be responsible for damage to your property. Ve are here to kidnap you, so kindly, get in the bag if you vill."
Tifa pushed out of her vice-like grip, glaring daggers, her finger pointing at them accusingly.
"I don't care if you are supposed to be unstoppably powerful. And I don't care if this is supposed to be a kidnap scene. I'm not going to get in that bag, and I'm not going to do anything else until you fix my fucking door!"
"But we don't have time! And besides, destruction of your fine establishment is always the norm in these situations. You'll just have to roll with it. Now will you please just-"
But "Creepy Obsessed Guy From Tifa's Past" stopped abruptly, as Tifa reached into her shirt (and apparently her brassiere), and pulled out two massive, clear, gel-like objects, dropping them on the ground with a dull splat. They appeared to be roughly the size of a human skull. And they almost looked like giant jellyfish or something. There also appeared to be a few bullets embedded in one of them.
"There, I'm done. That's it. Story's over." She said simply, kicking at the two objects spitefully.
Both author created types stared at the things in shock and mild disgust, not sure what to make of them. How had these two things managed to stop the plot line cold? The looked like..... Looked like.....
".....Are those breast implants?" "Creepy Obsessed Guy From Tifa's Past" asked in mild horror, glancing up at her from the horrific beasts on the floor. Her shirt seemed to fit a lot more comfortably now.
Tifa sighed, nodding her head in resignation.
"Well, they're actually saline-filled sacs that I have to put into my bra to enhance my natural bust. You see, seven years ago, CG was kind of a tricky subject. My chest was a bit over proportioned, Cloud's torso was kind of malformed looking, and Barret was oddly disproportionate to everyone else in the world. But nobody remembers Cloud's torso or Barret's giganticism. Nobody went around on Final Fantasy 7 forums saying 'OMG d00d, Barret's ph337 r huge!!!!!!1111!!' It was all 'OMG d00d, her b00bs r huge!!!!1111!!' Ever since then, almost every plot I've been in has had me with an outlandishly large bosom. So I have to wear those to keep everyone happy."
"But vhy didn't you just refuse to vear them?" "Bitchy Female that Hates Tifa Just Because" asked sympathetically, her own ample assets a curse as well.
"Because that's what everybody else is doing. And nobody cares, they just go along with it, and then people think I'm a woman of few morals. I gave up arguing after a while. Besides, in these action type dilemmas, they cushion blows to the chest and are thick enough to stop bullets."
Both author-created types, hung their heads, feeling really bad about themselves all of a sudden. They had never realized that Tifa (and all the other FF7 crew along with her) had had to endure a sort of 'Groundhog Day' with fan-created plotlines, having to do the same thing over and over again, with minimal alterations.
"Creepy Obsessed Guy From Tifa's Past" wiped a tear from his glow-in- the-freakin'-dark eyes, throwing down the burlap sack.
"I'm so sorry." He sighed in a choked voice, shaking his head. "I would have never wasted so many years of my life obsessing over you if I had known that this was what it'd come to."
Tifa looked between them, the frown still tugging at her lips. She felt kind of bad for them. After all, they hadn't known any better.....
"What are your names anyway? I mean, "Creepy Obsessed Guy From Tifa's Past" and "Bitchy Female that Hates Tifa Just Because" are really tedious to keep saying over and over again."
"Bitchy Female that Hates Tifa Just Because" immediately perked up, striking a pose, sticking her chest out, head tossed back.
"Vell, glad you asked. My name is Janichyka Ivanka Robinasayakanovich-Schweizer."
"And though you're supposed to remember me from our interaction years back, I'm Drakengard Louisiana, Esquire..... The Third."
Tifa rolled her eyes. Talk about over the top, tedious names. What was with these author-created types having names that were never shorter than three syllables? Sighing she glanced at them shaking her head.
".....Okay. Anyways, Jim-Jam," she paused, glancing over at Janichyka, "Greg," she turned her attention to Drakengard, "I'm sorry, but I just can't put up with this crushing web of clichés any more. Sorry to put you guys out of a story, but I'm just not going to keep this charade up any longer."
'Jim-Jam' and 'Greg', as they had been so christened by Tifa, merely nodded waving it off.
"No problem. I didn't really feel like getting blown up in the fifth- to-last chapter anyway." 'Jim-Jam' shrugged, falling out of her pose into a slouch, kicking off her stilettos. Hey, since the story had been stopped and all, why not?
"But is it really that bad Tifa? I mean, sure some stories can follow a pattern, but it can't possibly be as bad as you make it sound." 'Greg' put in, causing Tifa to shake her head, steadfast in her accusations.
"Do you know how many times Cloud has done something to piss me off and cause me to run away, and I end up running into Vincent and shacking up with him? Can you guess the number of times I've had to get into a hair- pulling bitch-fight with Aerith over Cloud, in a misguided attempt at humor?"
"Well, geez..... couple times?"
"Hundreds. Perhaps even thousands! And I've had enough! It's not just action-drama, this whole damn system is corrupt!" She paused, glancing over at the two author-created types, seeing that they were looking uncomfortable now that they were stripped of their chance to show off their bad-assery. 'Greg' was looking at the pitch black soles of his feet in disgust, glancing around the room for a towel or something. And 'Jim-Jam' was shifting about uncomfortably, as if her outfit were chafing her.
But then, an idea struck her. A grand idea. A crazy idea. She was back to feeling like her old self already. She felt great, ready to kick some ass. Maybe even ready to go jump out of a speeding train with Barret when Shinra noticed they had fake I.D. cards at one of their checkpoints. Yes, she was once again feeling like the Tifa Lockhart that almost everyone had forgotten about. The Tifa Lockhart with a spine. And reasonably sized breasts.
It was time to go set things right. Time to go stop the clichés.
"'Jim-Jam', 'Greg', I'm going to put some pants on, and take care of something I should have taken care of a long time ago." She announced, tugging at the hem of her miniskirt, knowing that everybody got the wrong idea about her outfit. Sure, she wore skimpy outfits all the frickin' time, but what author says, goes. She had no choice really. Well, that and she needed to be able to have freedom of movement when doing all of those kicks and matrix-type moves of her own. That, and 'modest clothing' wasn't exactly lucrative business in the heart of Midgar. Or, it was the catalyst that was used to pawn her off as the 'shifty, devious whore-type' in most of those 'Cloud and somebody who isn't Tifa' romance tales.
"Something dangerous?" 'Greg' asked hopefully, tearing his eyes away from his horrible feet for a moment.
"Might be, who knows. But I'm willing to take that risk. And seeing as how my door is rather..... not there any more, do you think that you could keep an eye on the place for me?" Tifa asked, casting a sidelong glance towards 'Jim-Jam' letting out a little growl of agitation.
"But vhere are you going? I vant to go too. I vant to go vith you, as apology for breaking your door." She pleaded sullenly, biting petulantly at her bottom lip, avoiding Tifa's gaze.
"Yeah, and if it's dangerous, we can use our unstoppably awesome powers to defend you! And if its not, we can at least find a new use for this burlap sack." 'Greg' chimed in, causing Tifa to roll her eyes and heave a tired sigh, her shoulders sagging.
"I don't know you guys. Having author-created types with crazy names and even crazier powers is cliché enough here. But if I start traveling with you, it'll become really hypocritical. Trying to stop clichés with a couple of clichés tagging along after me? It just wouldn't-"
"We'll fix your door for you if you let us tag along." 'Greg' cut in, causing Tifa to perk up visibly, nodding.
With an offer like that, how could she possibly refuse?
It was a done deal.....
.....Once she put some pants on.
"Hey do you think we could borrow some spare clothes?"
"Ooh, and some shoes too? Please?"
.....Or was it?
END TWO
Ah, 'Greg' and 'Jim-Jam'. They're such losers. They really just try to cover it up with their totally bossed-out strength. But we all know the truth. Not sure what I should really do with them, or how exactly I'm going to go about this now. I've got a couple ideas I could branch off too, but I'm not certain with which one I want to roll with. And just for the record, 'Greg' and 'Jim-Jam' aren't going to be doing much. They'll tag along loyally, but that'll be about the gist of it.
I feel a bit sullied about the whole Tifa's breasts thing. Not always a cliché, but had to be done sooner or later. With some descriptions I've found in stories, they probably would stop bullets. Or possibly Meteor itself.
Ph337. I'm not a master of leet speak, but I imagine that that might be 'feet' in leet.