Final Fantasy: The War to End All Wars.
A/N: I was inspired to write this Fic by RikuNghts' Final Fantasy: A New Age Begins.
I, Twilight-Link, am trying to create a new Earth. Much different from the one that we know today. I need the readers of this Fanfic to submit their OCs via E-mail or a review. I will be doing most of the writing, but I will allow you to notify me of what your character would do or say in a certain situation, after all it is a joint project: you read and submit your OCs and I bring them to life, simple as that. Also, you can submit two characters. (That's the max amount.)
Here's some background. The year is 2200, and Earth has been devastated by the third World War. At the beginning of the WWIII, the newly reborn Soviet Union has become powerful once again. Ruled by a single man, Mikhail Radomir, who is bent on world domination, as the war raged on, the U.N, tried diplomatic negotiations, but they all failed. Finally, at the climax of war, the leader of the U.S.S.R. had what he wanted: world domination. Now what remains of the U.N. has hired a taskforce of ragtag rebels and mercenaries to put an end to the Soviet Union once and for all.
Oh, there's a twist. Assistance comes from unanticipated places; the characters of Final Fantasy VII, VIII and X suddenly appear on the war-torn world. While they are adjusting to this new world, they are forced to make a choice. Fight alongside the Rebels, or be killed by the very people who took them in. I'll let you figure out the rest by yourself, friends. Is that too little info? I hope not, let's just call it a cliff hanger, shall we?
If you're interested in submitting a character, here's what I need: Name, Codename, Age, Physical Description, (height, weight, hair, eye color, their build, and any other striking physical characteristics.) Weapon of Choice, Job(s), (listed below), History, Home Country, Languages they speak, Personality, Possible Love Interest, Reason for fighting, What they have against the bad guys, and a Favorite quote of theirs, (optional). Create little relationships, between the FF characters and the OCs if you want. But, the FF people will not like the OCs; they might flirt occasionally, but otherwise, nope. That would drive me insane from trying to please everyone. And I don't need that to happen! I'm crazy enough as is! (May change me mind later, I like being crazy. Smirks.) On another note: this Fic will not become a Mary Sue! I swear on my honor it will not become a Mary Sue!
Jobs: Sharpshooter, Swordsmen, Sniper, Medic, Communications, Hacker, Demolitions, Heavy Weapons, Pilot, Infiltration, Scouting, Interrogation, Strategist, Espionage, Bombardier, (fires Artillery, my personal favorite tool of warfare), and Weapon Designer. (Only need one W.D.)
I think I'm done rambling for now. So I'll start the first Chappie! I'll introduce my OC and a little bit about how the resistance is doing. (Who is out by himself right now, separated from the rest of the gang, if you get your OC in soon I'll include him or her in the next Chapter!)
Note: If any of the OCs or FF people seem out of character, please tell me and I will rectify the problem. Thanks.
Chapter I
A Crash Landing
A lone figure stood on the edge of an abandoned highway, the embers at the tip of his cigarette glowing brightly in the darkness. The highway was surrounded on both sides by a dark and ominous forest, adding a menacing feeling to the atmosphere. The man's tan trench coat billowed around his ankles, dancing in a small gust of wind. His gaze shifted to the stars, one of the few beautiful things left in this war torn world. Then his gaze settled on the moon, and he scowled darkly. The moon was once a stunning orb, now it was a grotesque crescent; a mockery of its former self.
The man sighed and looked down at the pavement. The young man had unkempt black hair with graying tips, something that was uncommon in his age group, which was kept out of his blue eyes by a red bandana. He was wearing a blue T-shirt and old brown jeans, which hung loosely over his black combat boots. He drew from within his coat, a pistol; he checked the clip, full, he reinserted the clip and stuck the gun back into its holster. He then looked back up at the stars and noticed something, something unusual.
It was bright pinprick in the night sky. It was unlike any other star in the night sky, it was a vivid red and it seemed to grow larger and larger with each second that passed. The man scrutinized the pinprick for a moment, staring at it intently.
Suddenly a look of sheer terror formed on his face, his eyes growing wide with fear, his cigarette falling out of his mouth. "Oh, bloody hell!" He shouted as he bolted to the left, running as fast as his legs would carry him. The spot where he had been standing was about to become the center point of an impact crater. As soon as he was sure that he had exited the blast radius, he turned around to look, panting heavily.
He watched in horror as the pinprick streaked across the sky, leaving a trail of fiery red behind it as it flew through the atmosphere. Then it struck the ground with a resounding crash that seemed to cause the entire world to shudder. The man shielded his eyes from the brilliant flash of light, squinting to see if he could make anything out in the explosion as the object struck the Earth. When the light dissipated, leaving the area in darkness once more, the man lowered his arm and began to run towards the crash site.
The area around the crater had been flattened, some trees had been uprooted or bent over at the base of their trunks, and the land scorched and scarred from the intense heat, gray ash that had been thrown up when the object had struck the ground, hiding the night sky from view. The man peered cautiously over the edge of the crater, staring down into the bowl shaped depression. The crater was much smaller than he had expected. It was about 20 feet deep, and about 20 yards wide. Then his gaze settled on the object in the center of the crater. It was an airship. The flying craft was ablaze, crimson and gold flames twisted and writhed around the frame of the fallen aircraft, distorting it even more from its former glory. No one could have survived an impact like that; all of the passengers were probably dead.
The man sighed, and drew from within a pocket of his coat, a small cross. He closed his eyes, kissed the crucifix, crossed himself with it and muttered a short prayer in Italian. As he turned to leave, he noticed something. Eight parachutes lay about 20 feet away from him. Apparently, a group of people had just sky dived or they were the survivors of the airship crash.
"Thank the lord." The man muttered, dropping the cross back into his pocket. He walked over to the used parachutes, and picked up one. It was covered in ash, just as everything else around the crater. Finding nothing on the parachute, he tossed it aside, and then he saw tracks leading away from the parachutes, toward a nearby grove of trees.
"Boot prints." The man whispered, almost inaudible. He followed the tracks, right to edge of the wood. He stopped and peered into the darkness of the trees, trying to see any signs movement. Seeing none, he decided to take a chance, drawing his pistol, he took a step into grove.
He was almost immediately swallowed by darkness as he proceeded deeper into the wood; he knew he should've brought his flashlight. He holstered his pistol, it being useless in the darkness, and drew from his pocket a lighter and flipped it open; it illuminated the darkness, allowing him to see two feet in front of him. "Mighty creepy in here…" He murmured, apprehensively, looking around in the flickering light of his make shift torch.
Suddenly he heard a rustling sound to the left of him; he turned to see a flash of fiery red fur disappearing into the underbrush. He cocked an eyebrow. "What the hell…?" He muttered, shutting his lighter, and followed the flash of red.
He watched from behind a tree as the thing emerged from the trees into a clearing. It resembled a medium sized dog, yet had the mane and tail of a lion, it glanced around the clearing and the man could see the distinctive XIII tattooed on one of its forearms. Then it did something that stunned the man near to the very point of fainting. It talked.
"Its all clear," it said, its voice sounded, well…educated, "come on out." When it said this, seven more people emerged from the surrounding trees. Seven of the weirdest looking people he had ever seen, I mean, one of them had freakin' claw bolted onto his arm! He was pretty sure that none of them were on the 'list'. He decided to watch the group in question, so he shifted into a more comfortable position by the tree and started to observe his quarry. They were only visible by the light from the moon, that shone down into the clearing. It was unnaturally intense tonight.
Tifa walked over to the depressed pilot, and placed a hand on his shoulder, comfortingly. "I'm sorry about the Highwind, Cid." She said, staring into his light blue eyes. The man said nothing, he responded only by pulling a cigarette from the pack that was held to the side of his head by the strap of his pilot's goggles and lighting it. He extinguished the match and took a long draw on the cigarette.
"She was a fine ship." Cloud said shifting his sword to a more comfortable position on his shoulder as Tifa walked back over to his side.
"…I concur." Vincent added, solemnly.
"She went out in a blaze of glory," Red XIII said, his tail twitching, "she died, protecting her passengers…"
"And she did a good job…" Cait Sith continued, taking the small crown from between his ears and held it near his heart, his giant Moogle that he rode on looked genuinely sad. All attention turned to Barret and Yuffie, who had not said a word during this conversation. Barret shrugged.
"Don't got nothin' to say." He replied, folding his arms over his chest.
Yuffie sighed. "Cid, the Highwind was nice, but I keep puking. And I'm sorry 'bout that…" She trailed off.
Cid looked at the gang, and sighed, lighting another cigarette. "Hell, when I get my hands on my baby again, give me a couple of months and she'll look like a streamlined butterfly." He said, taking another long draw on his cigarette and flashing his signature smile.
"Hmm, that's sounds…" Yuffie trailed off, seeing the glare Cid had just flashed her. Barret snickered.
"Looks like the real Cid is already back." He said, nodding approvingly. Cid's gaze settled on the black man.
"Damn right," He said, cigarette hanging out of his mouth, "now let's get the hell out of here." They all nodded and turned to leave when they heard this, they stopped in their tracks.
"You know the comment about the streamlined butterfly? Well, it's gonna take more than a couple of months to fix that, a couple of years, maybe. I mean, damn, the thing is a wreck." Stated a voice from the trees that surrounded the clearing. Almost a second after the voice had finished the sentence; everybody had drawn their respective weapons, and was scanning the tree line for any signs of movement.
Suddenly a young man stepped out from the trees, smiling calmly even though he had an assortment of weaponry pointed at him. "Whoa, what a variety we got here. What's that old saying? Variety equals victory or something like that." The man said, not a hint of fear in his voice, walking forward.
The man approached Cloud and examined him from head to toe. "I bet you are the intrepid leader." He then said, calmly extending his hand, after a moment's hesitation, Cloud shook it.
"Who the fuck are you?" Cid growled, brandishing his Venus Gospel threateningly. The man turned to him and smiled politely.
"No one knows my name. Though my coworkers call me Saint. Plain and simple." Saint replied, turning back to Cloud. "And you are?" He asked, his gaze shifting from one to another of Cloud's group.
"Oh… right," He muttered, eyeing Saint suspiciously, "I'm… Cloud Strife, Tifa Lockhart, Barret Wallace, Cait Sith, Red XIII, Yuffie Kisaragi, Vincent Valentine, and you've met our pilot, Cid Highwind." He finished, pointing at each person as he named them off.
Cid stood glowering at Saint. "I don't trust this guy." He said, and he had good reason to, they all did.
Saint turned to him. "I understand that. I wouldn't trust me either." He said, with a smirk. This infuriated Cid even more, and his day hadn't started too well either, the man was basically fuming at the ears.
Cait Sith laughed. "Finally another person with a sense of humor!" He said, gratefully, he walked his Moogle over to Saint and extended his hand.
Saint shook it, but he looked confused as he did so. "What the hell are you?"
Vincent chuckled. "Many of us have asked him that question," he said, "that's not the real Cait Sith. We're not even sure of his real name."
"Really?" Saint asked Vincent and some of the others nodded. "Then what is…uh…it?" He said, jacking a thumb at Red XIII.
"A research experiment." Red XIII replied, rather flatly.
Saint looked freaked out by this new statement. "Well, um, yeah. We should get moving."
"Wait a tic." Tifa said, warily. "Why should we trust you?"
"A good question." Saint replied, turning back to face her. "If you follow me all of your questions shall be answered."
"I'm in." Said Cloud and Barret in unison. The two stared at each other for a second, and then looked quickly away.
"…I would appreciate some answers right about now." Vincent added, joining in step with Saint. Yuffie, Red XIII and Cait Sith followed closely behind. Tifa looked at the utterly confused Cid, who shrugged, and the two followed the group. To where? Only Saint knew.
Saint smiled. "Pay your last respects to the Highwind now, before we get any farther." He said, without looking behind him. He then climbed back into the dark of the forest, his mind wandering. He clicked his lighter open again and lit the way through the darkened forest. When the reached the edge of the forest, Saint looked around carefully and beckoned them to follow. "Stay in the shadows, and tell me if you see anything… anything."
"Why?" Cloud asked, curious.
"You'll see." Was Saint's only reply.
Saint's mood had improved greatly, finally, more soldiers to help the cause… he hoped they would survive longer than the last ones. Saint chuckled; they would have to be tested…
A/N: Finally after three days! I finished the first Chappie! Submit your OCs and any ideas you may have. Have fun with it. Till next time. Read and Review, people!
T.L.