Author Note: Wow, this took a LOT longer than it was supposed too… And I didn't cover as much ground, either. Man, my ideas always end up so stretched out… anyway, I'd planned to update in a week, it's now been almost if not actually 2, so sorry if people were expecting an update sooner than this, I forget if I mentioned it. Next chapter will hopefully be quicker, but it's pretty dependent on other factors, not the least of which being my mood. Ah, well, such is life, I suppose.
Aside from that… I actually don't have much to say to this one… For the record, the different fonts are supposed to be different "announcer," voices here in the beginning. If ever I discover an easier way to show this, I'll be sure to employ it.
And I definitely did NOT just go back and change "Messier," to the more accurate "Monsoir," and then the seemingly proper "Monsieur," after reading a review pointing out my mistake, and seeing it spelled (in)correctly in "The Count of Monte Cristo." It was TOTALLY that way from the beginning. Though, for the record, if I HAD done that, I would blame MS Word for not having one of the most commonly used French words in its database, and also the French language itself for being impossible to spell by phonetics.
No, seriously, I guess Monsieur is the correct spelling as of now, but Monsoir is considered okay too or something… I'm just sticking with Monsieur since Google and MS Word seem to think it's correct…How can there be variations on the spelling if French uses the same characters?
Chapter 2: Battle Strategy for Dummies
Madame, Monsieur, Bonsoir. La-
We're NOT doing this like Gankutsuou! NO ONE who will read this speaks French, and if they do, they're not going to want to translate it.
D-demo…
No one actually speaks Japanese either. It's a language invented purely for the purpose of giving people something to translate from, and that's far too much work for THIS. Just let me do it…
Last time, on Fire Emblem…
All hope seemed lost for our heroes, doomed to be driven insane, or at the very least, reduced to the level of sanity present in the average Hollywood star, by the "Out of Character Effect." When suddenly, a large invading force attacked Castle Crimea, completely bypassing the fortresses created to block oncoming armies, and saving the day in an odd twist of irony. Inherent flaws in Crimean military tactics aside, Ike prepared to lead a daring charge at the enemy, accompanied by only a few close companions, leaving the rest with the task of defending the castle, i.e., running off to hog all the EXP while leaving them to do something unimportant.
Ike turned to face the assembled group of six, the ones he had selected to join him on his dangerous mission. "You have all been selected for your unique skills… well… actually, Boyd's the only one here we can really call 'unique,' and he hardly counts anyway, but you get the general idea." Ike paced down the line that consisted of Soren, Mist, Boyd, Rolf, Zihark, and Marcia, looking each in the eye, and seeing courage, determination, loyalty, and the defining ends of the wide spectrum of colors that anime characters' eyes are all inexplicably endowed with. Hair colors we won't even touch.
"You've all proven your worth countless… okay… maybe 15… times over," Ike continued. "Some of you have stood around and let the enemy wail on you," he nodded at Boyd, Zihark, and Marcia, "and some of you have cowered behind them doing very little damage yourself but also avoiding being hit," he gestured to Rolf, Mist, and Soren. "And that is the key element of our strategy."
"Um… commander?" asked Zihark, raising his hand uncertainly.
"Yes? You with the recolor of the Swordmaster outfit," Ike answered, pointing at Zihark.
"Um… my ears must be funny, I thought you just said that standing around getting beaten on while some of us hide without doing anything was a key element of our strategy," Zihark said.
"That is what I said," replied Ike patiently.
"Oh…" was all Zihark could think of to say in response.
"Commanding an Army for Dummies… I am going to KILL Bastian…" muttered Soren.
"Any other questions?" asked Ike.
"Um… yes…" Rolf spoke up. "Could we consider a plan that won't require us to call in favors from the Gods in order to come out alive?"
Ike was slow to respond, scratching at his chin where he was hoping to grow a brilliant blue beard one day. He thoughtfully replied "Hm… well, it'd be a first, but I suppose it's worth a shot."
"Does Ike seem a little… off to you?" Rolf asked Mist in a whisper.
"You mean like the fact that he's wearing a zipper on the back of his neck?" Boyd, who was standing next to them, interjected.
"Wait… a zipper?" asked Soren, who had heard Boyd's slightly less-than-quiet whisper.
Sighing, Marcia walked over, grabbed Ike's face, and promptly ripped it off. Or rather, the rubber mask he was wearing over his face, revealing the imposter beneath.
"Mordecai…" the group said in a reprimanding tone, demonstrating the sort of unison that's impossible in actual speech, but quite easy and even more functionally in writing.
"Yes! I really CAN talk! I'm actually a genius! IQ Tests for Dummies says so!" he shouted, holding up a yellow and black book. "And I would have gotten away with it too, if it weren't for you meddling kids," he gestured at Mist and Rolf, "and you meddling young adults!" he swept his arm in an arc that included the others.
"Well, that, and the fact that Ike walked in behind you just as you turned around to talk to us," amended Soren.
"Oh…" was Mordecai's only response before turning and running out of the room without another word.
"Um… right…" said Ike as he stepped up to where Mordecai had been standing. "Well, since Mordecai has already covered the 'you're here because of your special talents,' bit… sort of… I'll skip past that and cut right to the chase. I'm not going to lie to you, it's going to be Hell out there. But I can't afford to have any of you die!" Ike added dramatically.
Before the others could continue with the usual comment about how they'd be careful and everything, Ike continued. "No, seriously, I can't afford it. I haven't had a job since the end of the war, and funerals are getting bloody expensive. Also, people stopped randomly giving us money for no apparent reason, guess because we lost that whole sympathetic 'Aww… your country's been destroyed' angle…" Ike paused for a second, recalling fonder times when random monarchs threw money at him for being with the princess of a conquered nation. Then, he continued "So, if you die out there, we don't have the money to bury you, and we'll leave you to the crows! And please, I don't think any of us want to be eaten by Naesala… that's borderline cannibalism, so let's try not to die out there, shall we?"
"Yes, sir!" came the unanimous reply from the others.
"Right!" Ike shouted in response. He walked to the castle's main door and, crying aloud, "Greil Mercenaries, I am for you!" threw it open.
There was a slight delay as Ike's choice of words was thoroughly abused, but then the Greil Mercenaries charged through the gate, into the courtyard, which had just been seized by a detachment of the enemy forces.
As the others ran ahead, Ike pulled Rolf back by the shoulder. "Rolf, I need to talk to you for a moment, if you don't mind."
"Um… sure Ike," replied Rolf uncertainly. "But is this really the best time? We're sorta in the middle of a situation here."
"Please, call me 'Commander,'" Ike said. "And this is the perfect time, or rather, would be in any other Fire Emblem game…" he added, guiding Rolf off to the side of the gate. Rolf looked at him, confused for a moment, but Ike seemed to take no notice of this, and continued. "Look, I know you and my sister are… friends, but I'm concerned about the exact nature of your relationship."
"Um… the nature of our relationship?" Rolf asked, puzzled.
"Yes, you see, I'm concerned about a few things," Ike explained. "The first of which is that you're childhood friends, though you still are right in the middle of your childhood, but the idea's still there, and this being like, part anime and all…"
"Um… Commander, I have no Tellian clue what you're talking about…" was Rolf's reply.
"There's also the fact that your hair is GREEN. It's GREEN, man. BRIGHT GREEN. Damned if I'm going to be the uncle of some poor kid with brown-green hair," Ike went on, apparently ignoring Rolf's comment.
"Uncle… um… Commander, are you talking about…" Rolf trailed off, unable to voice the rest of the sentence due to sheer embarrassment and the fact that Ike had yet more to add.
"I realize that you really like my sister, and she really likes you. So I want you to know that it's only after careful consideration that I tell you to stay the Hell away from her," Ike said forcefully.
"Um…. Err…" Rolf stuttered, too stunned to form coherent sentences.
"Rolf, I know you're a pretty bright kid," Ike went on. "So I assume you're bright enough to realize what exactly will happen to you the next time I see you two together." Ike patted the sword at his waist for effect. And the one he wore on the other side. And the two strapped across his back, just to make sure he had all his bases covered for going into combat.
"Um… yes… sir… or uh… I get the…" Rolf tried to talk, but was trembling too much to really be able to speak properly, and apparently was still suffering negative effects from sheer shock.
"Well, I want you to know that I'm glad you're being so cooperative," Ike added cheerfully. "For that, I'll ignore that little display in the kitchen. Now let's go get 'em!" Ike slapped Rolf across the back just hard enough to send him sprawling forward a bit, but not hard enough to really be considered a deliberate attempt to do so. Ike then walked back to the gate and headed out to lead the charge, leaving Rolf to stumble after him, mind apparently still too confounded to perform any sort of complex task.
"Commander?" Soren inquired as Ike walked out of the gate shortly afterwards.
"Sorry," Ike replied. "I had to talk to Rolf about something quick."
"Just before we go into BATTLE?" asked Soren. "This is Path of RADIANCE."
"I realize that…" Ike answered testily. "Just… do your strategy thing. How many are there?"
"There look to be quite a few times our number," answered Soren.
"I demand accurate results!" Ike shouted at the mage, moving his fist as if to pound it on an imaginary table.
"Have you ever tried to COUNT enemy units, Ike?" Soren asked angrily. "They all look exactly the same, and unlike some, less cooperative people," Soren here jabbed a thumb at Marcia, who was apparently talking to her Pegasus and taking relatively little interest in what was going on around her, "I can't fly."
"Fine. Good enough, I suppose. Though I miss the good ol' days when it seemed like we knew every single detail about the enemy forces beforehand," Ike said in a reminiscent tone.
"Um… Commander… we never knew exactly what the enemy had ahead of time…" Soren said, sounding slightly concerned.
"Oh… right…" Ike said quietly. He then reached out and dug his fingers into the point where Soren's neck met his shoulders, causing the mage to drop to the ground instantly.
"Hey, Rolf, what did my brother want?" Mist asked, falling into step next to Rolf as he staggered out of the door. Rolf stared at Mist for a second, his mouth working soundlessly, then started to edge away. "Um… okay…" said Mist as she watched him turn and run off, still not quite steady.
Mist walked over to her brother, who was carefully dragging Soren's body out of the way. "Hey, Ike, what exactly did you say to… is Soren alright?"
"Um… why… yes, he's just fine…" Ike replied slowly.
"Then why is he unconscious and bleeding?" Mist asked, pulling a heal staff from her invisible pocket dimension that enabled her to carry exactly four 'weapons,' and four miscellaneous items for some reason.
"He was… struck by enemy fire. And definitely not knocked unconscious and then pounded on to make him forget something I told him," Ike answered.
"If you… say so…" was Mist's less than confident reply as she tapped Soren on the head with the staff, his wounds closing instantly as a green glow enveloped him.
"Ugh… what happened?" Soren asked, climbing unsteadily to his feet.
"Nothing," Ike said quickly. "You were hit by enemy fire, but, uh… Mist took care of it, so you're fine now. And definitely should not try to remember what you were doing before being hit, because the memory of the pain could cause you to faint again. Yeah… that's it…"
"Um… okay… I'll go… back to planning our strategy…" Soren said, and walked off.
"So, Mist, you wanted to ask me something?" Ike interjected before any further discussion of Soren's injury could take place.
"Right, what did you say to Rolf? He seemed really freaked out," the young girl asked, sounding concerned.
"Mist, I don't think you and Rolf should… see each other anymore," Ike replied.
"But we sorta… LIVE together…" Mist said.
Ike merely stared and blinked for a few seconds, then said calmly, "Please don't phrase it like that…"
"But," Mist continued, "we're like a family, aren't we? The Greil Mercenaries, I mean."
"You're definitely not helping," Ike said, wincing. "Listen, I know you guys really like each other I just… don't like the direction your relationship is headed."
"If this is about that incident in the kitchen, I don't see how you can hold it against-" Mist began, before her brother cut her off.
"It's not about what happened in the kitchen. I just… don't think you two should be… involved," Ike interrupted. "It's a nearly infallible rule that childhood friends hook up in any fictitious setting, after all, and you guys are at least halfway there anyway…"
"So?" asked Mist. "We don't complain about the potential for you to hook up with Elincia or Lethe, and those are about as clichéd as it gets."
"Well, that's different," Ike said nervously.
"It is not!" Mist cried.
"Yes it is," answered Ike. "I'm not available to break up my own relationship because of a cliché."
"But then you're just targeting us because of circumstance! That's not fair!" Mist reasoned, rather loudly.
"Hey, if life were fair, Live Journal would have died out years ago," was Ike's reply.
"Well, that's a valid point I suppose… But still, what's so wrong with Rolf? I mean, you've got dad's hair and I've got mom's, so it's not as though-" Mist began, only to be cut off again.
"Okay, not that I haven't gone there already, but I really don't need to hear about that from you…" Ike interjected before she could fully finish the implication of that statement. "I just don't think he's up to your standards."
"Ike, he's the only male character my own age who anyone CARES about. I don't HAVE any standards!" she cried.
"Well… you've got me there," Ike admitted. "But still, I-"
"Hello?" cried an angry voice off to the right of where Ike and Mist were talking. They turned to see an oddly red-tinted man holding a large axe and looking rather upset. "I've been STANDING here for like, five minutes now! Aren't any of you going to come over and talk to me?"
"Hey, we're sorta in the middle of something here, so you can just wait your-" Ike began.
"I'M the enemy commander!" the man shouted in exasperation.
"Oh…" answered Ike. "Well, then… what do you want?"
"Nothing, really, just stopping in to say 'hi,'" the man replied.
"Oh… well, hi…" was Ike's only response.
"Oh, and to tell you that we, the recently reconstituted army of Daein will KILL YOU ALL!" he roared. "Oh, and I think I'm also supposed to mention that you're insects of some kind and will never leave here alive," the man added.
"All… right…" Ike said uncertainly.
"Now, to the other side of the battlefield!" the man shouted, turning and running all the way back to the outer wall of the courtyard. "Now, my minions, appear from nowhere!" In response to the man's cry, a large force suddenly climbed out from underneath the bushes they had been hiding in at a rate of something like 4 people to a bush, 3 if cavalry or Laguz were involved.
"I have GOT to learn how to do that…" Ike said, gazing enviously at the sudden mass number of henchmen the enemy commander could make spontaneously appear from nowhere.
"The administration of this bush," began a Warrior with a southern drawl, gesturing at several other men who had hopped out of the same bush that he had, "would like to clarify on a few points. We did not actually spontaneously appear from nowhere to attack Castle Crimea for our own selfish reasons. We had very little reason to believe that this castle housed some sort of doomsday weapon that the peaceful nation of Crimea would turn against us, but our selective hearing made it seem much more likely. So, to that end-" The man's words were cut short as a ballista bolt slammed through his chest, killing him instantly, or as close to instantly as makes little difference to anyone else.
"Right, men, as your new commander," said a dark-robed man as he stepped over the body of his fallen comrade. "I'm saying let's get the Hell out of here."
"But weren't you the one giving us orders anyway?" questioned one of the nearby men, apparently an archer.
"Shut up," the robed man shot back, before jumping back into the bush, where he was shortly followed by the others.
We interrupt this fanfiction for this special announcement from its author: I am Duo Himura, and I approve this message. "Please don't kill me."
"Nice shot, Rolf," Boyd said, watching his younger brother step down from the ballista's wooden platform.
"Thanks," replied Rolf, apparently somewhat calmer, either due to denial or acceptance, passively watching the yellow meter beneath him fill up about halfway without really seeing it, probably a fortunate thing since he was already questioning the soundness of his mental state.
"Um… okay…" said the enemy general, who was standing looking rather stunned. "Well then… attack, my minions!"
"Greil Mercenaries! Believe in a sign of Zeta! Beyond the hard times from now!" Ike shouted in response.
"Now you're just getting silly…" commented Zihark, dispatching a charging, red-tinted swordsman with a deft thrust, his eyes still focused on his commander.
"Oh, whatever…" was Ike's response, clotheslining an unfortunate, oncoming soldier. "Everyone just go try not to get killed."
"Right!" came the unanimous cry from the others.
We interrupt this fanfiction for this important message: The ensuing battle has been deemed too cool to be written down. It will, therefore, be animated through the cutting edge technology of "Imagine-O-Vision." Just sit there for a few minutes and PRETEND you're seeing the actual battle, and through the wonders of "Imagine-O-Vision" you'll see mental images of the battle taking place right before your very eyes! Or… the part of your brain that allows you to see mental images… since you won't really be 'seeing,' them per se…
We interrupt this interruption of this fanfiction to bring you this significantly more important message: The people responsible for deciding that the ensuing battle was too cool to be written down, along with the designers of "Imagine-O-Vision," all tragically died in a car crash. This is believed to be the direct result of racing cars with gas tanks that give off an explosion equivalent to that of a 10 mega-ton bomb if they crash through the midst of a city. Yeah, we're looking at YOU Captain Falcon…
We interrupt this interruption of the important message interrupting this fanfiction to bring you this important side note: This joke is getting really old. Also, in a further update of the events leading to the tragic demise of the people responsible for the censoring of the aforementioned battle and "Imagine-O-Vision," one of them had actually only had his legs vaporized, and was pulling himself free of the burning wreckage when he was set upon by a pack of lawyers furious with the company's failure to report the risks of prolonged use of imagination to the Neo Food and Drug Association. For those who have used "Imagine-O-Vision," prolonged use can lead to "fun," "lack of interest in boring TV programs," and even "originality." The permanency of such side effects are currently under investigation, and in the meantime, its recommended that "Imagine-O-Vision," not be used by senior citizens, professional depressers, politicians, Hollywood stars, or especially, children. The single survivor has not been found, and at this point, some 15 minutes after the crash, authorities have almost given up hope, saying "Does anyone really care?" and "Bout time."
Marcia swooped down on her Pegasus, which apparently was never named within earshot of the author, dropping neatly in front of an enemy soldier and stabbing him in the right side of his ribcage with her lance. She then applied an additional thrust to the other side of his chest, to ensure that his body would remain semi-symmetrical, as is most commonly the case with humans.
The soldier slumped to the ground, murmuring something along the lines of "Thus, with a fatal thrust to both lungs, I die…"
Nailing an oncoming Myrmidon in the leg with a Javelin, Marcia took to the skies again on the back of her brilliant white steed, its wings beating the air furiously despite regular reassurances that Pegasi actually 'kick the air,' and use their wings mostly just for gliding.
She flew over the courtyard, which somehow was entirely intact despite the destruction one would expect from combat involving magic and siege weapons. Marcia narrowly avoided a volley of arrows from enemy archers, who seemed capable of firing more than 10 feet in front of them only when flying creatures were involved, and holding on notably better than a certain purple haired Pegasus Knight we could mention, but who shall remain ((coughFlorinacough)) nameless.
She flew down to where the others were holding off the enemy assault at a vital pass, too narrow for more than one or two to move through at a time, determined as they seemed to not just simply cut through the hedges on either side or jump the 6-inch-high barriers between the path and the grass. The pink-haired knight steered her mount to the ground, landing gracefully, then taking off again with equal grace to land directly in front of a soldier trying to sneak around the mercenaries' flank, and impaled him with another javelin she pulled from the trans-dimensional hip-pack she always wore.
"You know," commented Ike as he fell back from the fray, allowing the others to hold off the enemy for a moment by themselves, "I've always been curious as to exactly why you take off, then land right in front of the enemy. Isn't a charging attack supposed to use… momentum?"
"Well, it looks really cool to swoop down on people…" Marcia answered uncertainly. "And for some reason my Pegasus refuses to do fly-by strikes unless I'm twirling a lance over my head."
"That's… different…" Soren, who neither had noticed until that moment, interjected.
"Yah!" Ike and Marcia cried in surprise.
"Don't DO that…" Ike said.
"Doo doo-doo doo doo doo doo doo-doo doo doo-doo/ You won't see me coming…" Soren began to sing before Ike, Marcia, and the Pegasus all slapped him across the face. Well, the Pegasus did more of a skull-crushing-slamming-hoof-down-on-top-of-his-head kinda thing, but the intent was the same.
As the group called Mist over to recover the mage from his second severe concussion of the day, Ike asked "So, what we were talking about again?"
"Something about Pegasus-related fighting techniques, I believe," commented Zihark from where he had been watching, just off-screen.
"Yah!" screamed Ike, Marcia, the Pegasus, and Mist, while Soren made more of a gurgling, bleeding sound.
"Don't DO that!" cried the group together, as Soren continued to make that odd, bleeding sound.
"You won't see me coming…" Zihark began, before the others interjected.
"We just did that joke…" they said in exasperation. Soren's bleeding sound, it's worth noting, was becoming significantly less noticeable by this point.
"Really?" asked Zihark.
"Yeah," commented Boyd as he strode up to the group, who at this point were past being surprised by the sudden arrivals and just sort of glared at him. Soren couldn't really glare in his present condition, but his eyes are sorta stuck like that anyway, so it worked.
"Wait…" began Ike slowly, "if you're all here, then the only one guarding against the enemy is…"
"Rolf!" they all cried in unison, with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Soren made a noise something like the world 'Rolf,' as well, due to the fact that Mist just dropped his head, which she had been cradling in one arm as she tried to heal him, onto the stone path in surprise.
"Sorry, guys, did you want something?" asked Rolf as he walked up. "I was just off typing up a Live Journal entry about how unfair life is…"
"Is there any other kind of Live Journal-" began Zihark.
"Rolf! What were you doing angsting at a time like this! We're in the midst of a battle! This is Path of Radiance!" cried Boyd, cutting the swordsman off.
"And more importantly," Ike continued, "if you were off writing a depressing Live Journal entry, and we were all over here, then why haven't we been overrun yet?"
Meanwhile, on the far side of the battlefield, the enemy commander frowned as he watched the enemy defenses walk off and seemingly abandon their posts one by one. "Damn… our intelligence didn't say that the enemy was so cunning!"
"Cunning… but sir, they just completely abandoned the best defensive position they could even hope for as long as we're deliberately not jumping the 6-inch barriers between the grass and the paths or cutting through the hedges," commented a nearby lance-wielding soldier.
"Yes, that's exactly the point. Those clever devils…" the man responded.
"But… that's a horrible strategic move," the other soldier said, sounding slightly shocked. "We can just charge in and overrun them now."
"No, no, that's exactly what they're expecting, nay, planning on," the red-tinted leader explained.
"How could they be planning on us charging through with our full numbers and killing them all in one fell swoop?" asked the soldier, somewhat exasperated by this point.
"This is exactly why I'm our tactician," was the commander's reply. "You see, the only time an enemy would ever make such a foolish move as to withdraw their forces from an easily defensible position to a far inferior one is if they had some sort of diabolical plan in mind."
"But we watched them leave… they didn't rig up any traps or anything!" cried the other soldier, face now red enough to match his armor.
"That we didn't see them do it only means that their plan must be that much more brilliant…" the commander mused.
The other soldier let out a cry of frustration that fell somewhere in between 5 or 6 different expletives and walked off, hoping to find someone who had forgotten to wear the Daein crest on his armor so he could get away with stabbing them to death.
"There's only one explanation," Ike explained to the others, who were now huddled around him in a circle. "The only way that the enemy wouldn't take advantage of such a blatant and obvious hole in our defenses is if they were concocting some sort of sinister plan, maybe rigging up some sort of trap…"
"There is only one option…" both Ike and the enemy commander said at the same time, thanks to one of those convenient split-screen effects that make such a nigh impossible event easy to describe, "we must wait for them to wear down, and carelessly trigger their own trap!"
((Cue "The Promised Meeting" (from Gundam SEED OST 1)))
The Greil Mercenaries are locked in a deadly stalemate. But when the dust clears, who will be the first one to cave? The mercenaries? The enemy soldiers? Castle Crimea itself? It's a staring match on a scale the world has never seen. Jikai, Kidou Senshi This Path of Radiance Seems Awfully Familiar: Didn't we do this last time? Be sure to move before rigor mortis sets in, Gunda- uh… Greil Mercenaries!
Ending Note: Um… pretty much just some rough translations and explanations.
The ending there is a parody on how Gundam SEED does next episode previews. I'm thinking of doing a series of these using the previews from various different anime. The title for the next chapter I've got there is tentative, I'm usually not so great with titles, so I need some time to think it over for that one.
Jikai: Not sure if it's spelled right, but it means something like "next," usually translated as "next," or "next time."
Kidou Senshi: Literally something like "Mobile Warrior," this is the prefix used for Gundam. It somehow ended up as "Mobile Suit," in English, and the term "Mobile Suit," is still used in Japanese to refer to the mechs, or at least, it is sometimes. Kidou Senshi seems to only be used in reference to the series, I've never heard it used within any of the shows themselves. I just attribute it to Japanese being a really odd language and move on, most of the time.
Madame, Monsieur, Bonsoir: This is French, meaning, "Ladies and Gentlemen, goodnight," or at least, that's its English equivalent. This is used at the recaps in the beginning of the anime Gankutsuou: The Count of Monte Cristo, and the rest of the preview is done in French as well (well, the story does take place in Paris, mostly.). There's actually a reason for that, but mostly it just sounds cool.
Demo: Unless I'm mistaken, it's "but," in Japanese. That's how it seems to be translated, most of the time, anyway, so I assume it's used similarly, if it's not a direct translation.
Believe in a sign of Zeta! Beyond the hard times from now: This may not be completely accurate, but it's intended to be a lyric from the first opening of Zeta Gundam (the song translates to something like Zeta- Transcending the Times, I don't know the Japanese…). It's a commonly mocked line, though usually in a fanboy-admiration sorta way, ie "Do YOU believe in a sign of Zeta?"
You won't see me coming: The name of the ending theme for Gankutsuou: The Count of Monte Cristo. It's also one of the lyrics "You won't see me coming…/ You won't see me coming…/ 'Till I strike!" There's an instrumental bit in there, which is what Soren was imitating with the "doo"s.
References to conversations in the midst of battle: Path of Radiance was the first Fire Emblem to feature a "Base Screen" that included support conversations, or conversations between characters that lead to a building level of trust between them. They include romances, overcoming grudges and prejudice, and all sorts of cool character interaction. They're still obtained by placing units next to each other for a certain number of turns, as in previous games, but in the previous games the conversations took place in the midst of the battlefield. This also allowed the system to be abused much easier, by just waiting on a level where you didn't have to kill the boss right away and raising support levels.
Edit: Actually, in PoR supports are apparently triggered just by having characters in the same level together. I'd heard about this from a friend, but seen nothing that proved it one way or the other. Having someone else proceed to point it out, however, suggests that it's probably the case, so thanks to R Amethyst for pointing that out, and also the problem with Messier instead of Monsieur, though Monsoir was the spelling she (sorry if that's an incorrect assumption…) suggested. If anyone can explain why Google and MS Word have Monsieur while The Count of Monte Cristo uses Monsoir, I'd appreciate it… especially considering that French uses the exact same letters as English (with a few differences, if I recall anything from the 2 weeks of French I had in that 'try all the languages we offer,' thing for school…)