***Author's Notes***
If you are able, it would be recommended for you to fire up a copy of Metallica's 'Nothing Else Matters' from their Black Album.
Not much else to say except that this is the first SongScene I've done in a while, and yeah... Metallica... Final Fantasy Tactics... yeah... it's a hard connection to create.
Again, personal problems abound... and I've more or less lost the will to write, which is why this chapter is so damn short. The motivation died halfway through in writing this.
***Author's Notes***
Chapter 02-14 "Nothing Else Matters" (Chapter Two: The Manipulator and the Subservient, Scene 14)
***
"What can we do for you, Mr. Ruglia?" the lead guitarist, holding an acoustic guitar, asked, having stopped his playing and beginning to retune his strings.
"A song," Ramza replied, his tone calm.
"Oh, a request," another band member –the violinist- remarked.
Ramza shook his head. He placed his hands across his forearms as he began to tighten the sleeves he wore from their bindings at the undersides of his forearms. "In a way, but it won't mean a thing to the one that matters unless it comes from me..."
The lead guitarist spoke again. "So, you want to play, with us backing you up?"
The boy who sat by a massive drum on the ground spoke up, toying with the padded drumsticks. "So long as its easy to follow, I have no problems with it. At least we know someone will be happy." His partner, another boy, this one with a smaller drum tied on with suspenders around his waist, just shrugged. Ramza hadn't noticed the quiet one before.
The other guitarist simply shrugged, removing his feathered cap and inverting it, smirking.
"I'd ask how good you are, or even if you know how to in the first place, but since its going to happen now..." the lead pointed out, "I assume you'll be taking my position... so, sir knight, here is thy sword!" the lead joked.
It wasn't that Ramza found the humor offensive, it was that he did not care. Taking the man's half-squash acoustic guitar, Ramza brushed the bare fingers of his right hand along the handful of strings while his left hand intuitively probed where each of the strings were adjusted, feeling the oil from the guitarist's hands on the brass screws.
Enough of the guests had noticed the cessation of the music, as well as Ramza's stride into the center of the room where the band had set themselves up. Before he looked towards her, Ramza knew that Agrias had been watching him. His back burned from the glare she directed against him, and Ramza wondered if he preferred her heat –even in anger- over her cool, detached manner.
He noticed that his breathing had grown more deep and rapid, that his chest was beginning to tense, and his wit leaving him. In that state of anxiety, Ramza immersed himself, trying to explore the emotions of terror, loneliness, and loss that was his turmoil. Diving through the surface of the pool, Ramza fought the suffocation that he felt, and in the depths of his emotional body, he found the core from which everything came; the emotion that was so fulfilling that the fear of its loss became a nightmare.
His heart bare, his shields withdrawn, Ramza settled back into a more controlled rhythm of breath, trying to find his balance, mental and physical.
A piece of a poem that Ramza remembered from when he saw his life in only in black or white. The poem had no meaning for him then, only bitter sadness that he grasped, savoring the emotion, the feeling.
Ramza knew enough to keep a rhythm, and he began. One, one-two-three- four-five. He had established his sequence, letting the band know the pace he would dictate. A second sequence, and on the third, the other guitarist joined him, punctuating the Ramza's dull strums with his own higher pitch, working within Ramza's meter.
Melancholy was the mood being shared by his guitar, contrasting sharply with the festivities that was being ignored by Ramza.
The violin joined next, performing in slow sweeps, overshadowing Ramza, who wished it so. The same number of steps, with only the speed at which they were run shifting. When the drummer took up the beat, Ramza's music disappeared, drowned out by the rest of the instruments, yet it continued to play its beat faithfully.
He watched Agrias' face contort, content with his instrumental as she rose, her hands unseen, yet he knew that within her gloves, her knuckles were clenched white.
'Never while I have the advantage...' Ramza thought, having long since made the decision to challenge Agrias...
***
Agrias knew that Ramza decided to reveal himself to her now... or something to that effect. She wondered why, even so, why she felt so jaded at that, asking herself why should she not feel happy?
Its what you wanted, isn't it? Agrias pondered as Ramza talked to the musicians on the floor.
She noticed the attention on him by the others as well, and she was angered by that. It was only her attention that Ramza required, what he was doing caught the eye of most others in the room having nothing better to do than finding entertainment out of someone else's torment.
She knew she was hurting Ramza, but she could not erase the thought of how he was hurting her as well.
He was resigned to his fate. He hadn't said as much, but whatever happened to him, Agrias knew Ramza believed as something he deserved. The willingness to put himself into harm's way... With Ramza, Agrias sees not Death catching up with her interest, but her source of so much contention and anguish running down the reaper himself.
Ramza did not want to run his own life; his inability to discard his heritage and become independent. He would always place himself in someone else's service. Even for the dead. Agrias understood that which Ramza had never been able to accept: he had never forgiven himself for whatever he had allowed to happen in his past, and in his eventual demise he saw his atonement.
Could I love someone who is already dead?
Could someone who feels no love for themselves love others?
You're leaving your rejection to me, Agrias concluded, anger rising from her revelation. 'Did you ever think you could even succeed?' she mouthed, expecting him to read her lips, so that he would answer to her accusation. 'Was I simply a fantasy to you... a mere thing to pine after...'
She did not know how long he would be separated from her, most likely longer than the handful of days, but infinity of moments, that she had shared with him, and she knew both of them wanted to continue. Yet, with his mindset, no matter how skilled he may be, it was a matter of eventuality that the dice would tumble against him.
When he began to play, it wasn't the music that impacted her, but the sadness that she could sense radiating from him.
She saw the determination in his eyes, and the resignation in them... and she was enraged. Unless you expect yourself to succeed in loving me, Ramza, how could you expect me to love you?
***
Having Agrias' attention, Ramza began to sing. "So close, no matter how far."
How cliché... Agrias thought. She could tell that his voice was strained as he sought to keep his voice low and still project to her.
"Couldn't be much more from the heart..." Ramza confessed, catching her eyes. "Forever trusting who we are," he continued cryptically, "and nothing else matters."
Yet... why do you have to leave? Agrias mentally retorted, sitting herself down as she noticed the stares beginning to accumulate as eyes began to follow Ramza's gaze to her.
"Never opened myself this way," Ramza continued, giving Agrias a guilty smile, and a little of his melancholy fell away. "Life is ours," he admitted, "we live it our way." was his concession to their differences. Agrias noticed how he stretched out the last syllable in his lines.
As his voice began to sound anguished, Agrias wanted to believe him when he sang to her, "All these words I don't just say," tugging at something within her as he repeated himself, reverting to his blank tone, "and nothing else matters." Then, why can't you change? Agrias asked again.
Ramza paused, and when he began again, frustration was in his voice, almost accusing her, which Agrias had to check herself to keep from reacting negatively. "Trust I seek, and I find in you." Agrias wanted to hate him, ignore him, anything that would keep him from reaching her. "Everyday for us, something new," he continued, almost pleading as the anguish and frustration manifested was transforming in humility. "Open mind for a different view..." he sang with a tired glow, "and nothing else matters..." he repeated again.
This time, Ramza lashed out at the rest of his audience, "Never cared for what they do," he told her, anger marring his soft voice. "Never cared for what they know..." he reminded her, trying to get her to think back on the few nights they had shared, "but I know," he finished, breaking rhythm, sounding empty, and alone.
Ramza stopped his strumming as he said softly, breaking from the others as he began speaking plainly to her, "So close," he reminded her, "no matter how far," again he brought up their recent past. "Couldn't be much more from the heart," Ramza repeated, his voice uncertain, wondering if Agrias believed him.
"Forever trusting who we are," Agrias mirrored his speech, acknowledging her pledge to him when her will was at an ebb during Ovelia's pursuit, and he was there to hold her up, to assist her, and simply be there. "And nothing else matters..." she agreed, their two voices failing to synchronize, but none could tell who was parroting who.
"Never cared for what they do," Ramza sang again, his voice weaker than before as he tried to smile at her, and she sighed, suppressing the disappoint she felt. Yes, Ramza... but it wasn't all about them, she thought, wishing that he too would understand. "Never cared for what they know..." something that Agrias thought was hinting at something else, something that she could not understand right now. "But I know." Now, his mysterious smile appeared for a moment, before it disappeared.
As the instrumental began, Ramza participated again, beginning his light, practically undistinguishable playing. As he slowly weaved laterally, Agrias saw the invitation in his expression, and she wanted to damn him for how tempting a figure he was at that moment.
Angry with him or not, Ramza shone. As she caught his eye once more, Ramza playfully exaggerated and stylized his strokes, which the violinist mimicked in his playing. He was armored as a dragoon... and Agrias found herself thinking 'delicious.'
***
Taking a brief glance towards Ovelia, who mouthed to her fiercely, 'You won't forgive yourself if you don't do anything! Just go!' Agrias rose awkwardly again, trying to ignore the stares –some of them venomous, some amused- all of them critical and invasive. The eyes of the women were particularly vicious, and Agrias was no small part annoyed at that. So, she followed her reason and acted as she knew was best. She ignored them while still acknowledging their disdain. "And no one else matters..." Agrias said nervously, amazed that she could bring herself to say something like that. Do I mean it? She asked herself. For now I do... and nothing else matters. She chuckled at that as she took Ramza's almost devious –though heartfelt and terrified on his part- enticement.
Her pace was swift, frantic, as she wondered why she was rushing towards him with this energy, fervor, and desperation.
He only averted his gaze to return the instrument he had borrowed, the lead guitarist relieving him.
"Why are you doing this to me?" she asked him bluntly, wondering why she felt such a rush.
Likewise, Ramza was affected, standing before Agrias, awaiting her verdict. Accepting defeat before was to accept failure, to accept whatever came –including success- was another. "I cherish you. Whatever duty I am given, even if it seems that my death is certain... I want to return to you." Ramza's breathing was beginning to become erratic as his anxiety peaked. "Even if you believe that death will run me down... I want to live. Not for you, but for myself." She was surprised that Ramza did not seem hesitant at all, almost eager as he nearly stuttered his revelation.
Agrias had been prepared to hear something else – and some part of her wanted to swat him down had he uttered those three words, yet, this change in phrase confused her. "You're just telling me what I want..." she instinctively replied. Either love him, or discard him... don't let him linger, her mind screamed, compelling Agrias to make a decision.
Instead of coming back at her with his own reply, Ramza simply nodded in that same accepting manner that she both hated and admired, because it allowed people to accept blame where they may be innocent. Agrias didn't care if she got her way in an argument; she cared if she was correct. Being a penitent martyr was cowardice to her, denying both sides justice. "I want to live, with or without you." The alarm that she saw rise in Ramza's crimsons eyes relieved Agrias somewhat; it was better than the terror that had been there before.
"There's so many things wrong with both of us," she pointed out, and as Ramza approached her, she stepped back. In turn, she saw Ramza flinch, and again, her eyes saw his dull and fade. She wondered if crimson eyes could cry ruby tears. Agrias felt that she was bleeding Ramza's heart –the pain she could feel him emanating indicated that she was all but torturing him.
"I don't want to run anymore," Ramza said, pre-empting any excuse she could make. "There is always going to be a later time, but, the present is here."
"What are you trying to tell me?" Agrias put bluntly. As long I don't keep him wriggling on the hook... anything that I say is fine.
As Ramza blinked, she saw the tension in his body disappear. She had been worried, as she saw what she believed could've been anger in him as she spoke. "Something that if you do not know by now, then its something that you deny." His eyes had a ruby sheen now, a glow of life, intensity, and passion beginning to show. "When you don't listen to me, or when you push me away, it doesn't hurt so much," Ramza told her. "What causes me agony is that you are closing me off from your heart."
And since when has any part of my heart been yours? Agrias would've said, but the bitter rejoinder died before she could speak. Justice, not malice, Agrias told herself. "You say that you'll come back to me?"
"Yes, even if its something that you should never have to hear. Not because its not your place, but because, because I believe that you know what I feel." He took a soft breath, waiting as Agrias approached him, shattering the physical barrier that she had created. "I want to share my life with you."
"And you can't do that from the grave, yours or mine," Agrias acquiesced. "Both of us can die, but, I can't help what I feel; I believe you seek your death." She lifted her eyebrow when Ramza slipped his right hand behind her back, and took her right hand in his left. "What are you doing?"
Ramza took a moment to cock his head at the band. "Actions speak louder than words."
"And it took you this long to act... after so much speech," Agrias gently accused, her voice lacking any malice or anger as she allowed. She had to give Ramza credit as he held her tighter instead of trying to defend himself. Wondering why she was having a change of heart, Agrias simply chose to go with the moment. "And nothing else matters," she told him, awkwardly leaning her head into the crook of his neck, the peace she thought tainted by the discord of their emotions.
***
***Author's Notes***
This chapter... I'd allude it to being a can of Campbell Soup. Concentrated, powerful, but unprocessed. It needs to be given volume and final preparation.
I've lost my objectivity. The mood of this scene changed halfways... and hell, the tune 'Kiss Me' almost began to play in the background.
The characters are confused. More or less, an ultimatum had been issued, made, and/or broken, all without Ramza's knowledge of anything ever happened until it was too late.
Maybe I should go into Ramza's thoughts... but the problem with that would be, there'd be a lot of bitterness, disappointment, and sorrow within them. Unless you're really sick or deprived... angst like that is too much. I like to write angst... but the stuff that's going through Ramza's mind... no. That's really taking it too far. Especially since its more or less a reflection of what I'm trying to survive.
This fic is Drama... not a DarkFic. I don't want to leach off characters' pain, and reasons like that are whats keeping me from doing much more with this story.
I suppose I could move on with the game's storyline, but the gauntlet's been laid down by Agrias here, and Ramza chose to pick it up. It HAS to be resolved on some level.
So, for now, expect nothing from this story for a few weeks until I regroup. Its doing no good when I'm not thinking about this story except for the moments where I force myself to type.
***Author's Notes***
***Readers' Response Corner***
To all: Sorry.
***Readers' Response Corner***
If you are able, it would be recommended for you to fire up a copy of Metallica's 'Nothing Else Matters' from their Black Album.
Not much else to say except that this is the first SongScene I've done in a while, and yeah... Metallica... Final Fantasy Tactics... yeah... it's a hard connection to create.
Again, personal problems abound... and I've more or less lost the will to write, which is why this chapter is so damn short. The motivation died halfway through in writing this.
***Author's Notes***
Chapter 02-14 "Nothing Else Matters" (Chapter Two: The Manipulator and the Subservient, Scene 14)
***
"What can we do for you, Mr. Ruglia?" the lead guitarist, holding an acoustic guitar, asked, having stopped his playing and beginning to retune his strings.
"A song," Ramza replied, his tone calm.
"Oh, a request," another band member –the violinist- remarked.
Ramza shook his head. He placed his hands across his forearms as he began to tighten the sleeves he wore from their bindings at the undersides of his forearms. "In a way, but it won't mean a thing to the one that matters unless it comes from me..."
The lead guitarist spoke again. "So, you want to play, with us backing you up?"
The boy who sat by a massive drum on the ground spoke up, toying with the padded drumsticks. "So long as its easy to follow, I have no problems with it. At least we know someone will be happy." His partner, another boy, this one with a smaller drum tied on with suspenders around his waist, just shrugged. Ramza hadn't noticed the quiet one before.
The other guitarist simply shrugged, removing his feathered cap and inverting it, smirking.
"I'd ask how good you are, or even if you know how to in the first place, but since its going to happen now..." the lead pointed out, "I assume you'll be taking my position... so, sir knight, here is thy sword!" the lead joked.
It wasn't that Ramza found the humor offensive, it was that he did not care. Taking the man's half-squash acoustic guitar, Ramza brushed the bare fingers of his right hand along the handful of strings while his left hand intuitively probed where each of the strings were adjusted, feeling the oil from the guitarist's hands on the brass screws.
Enough of the guests had noticed the cessation of the music, as well as Ramza's stride into the center of the room where the band had set themselves up. Before he looked towards her, Ramza knew that Agrias had been watching him. His back burned from the glare she directed against him, and Ramza wondered if he preferred her heat –even in anger- over her cool, detached manner.
He noticed that his breathing had grown more deep and rapid, that his chest was beginning to tense, and his wit leaving him. In that state of anxiety, Ramza immersed himself, trying to explore the emotions of terror, loneliness, and loss that was his turmoil. Diving through the surface of the pool, Ramza fought the suffocation that he felt, and in the depths of his emotional body, he found the core from which everything came; the emotion that was so fulfilling that the fear of its loss became a nightmare.
His heart bare, his shields withdrawn, Ramza settled back into a more controlled rhythm of breath, trying to find his balance, mental and physical.
A piece of a poem that Ramza remembered from when he saw his life in only in black or white. The poem had no meaning for him then, only bitter sadness that he grasped, savoring the emotion, the feeling.
Ramza knew enough to keep a rhythm, and he began. One, one-two-three- four-five. He had established his sequence, letting the band know the pace he would dictate. A second sequence, and on the third, the other guitarist joined him, punctuating the Ramza's dull strums with his own higher pitch, working within Ramza's meter.
Melancholy was the mood being shared by his guitar, contrasting sharply with the festivities that was being ignored by Ramza.
The violin joined next, performing in slow sweeps, overshadowing Ramza, who wished it so. The same number of steps, with only the speed at which they were run shifting. When the drummer took up the beat, Ramza's music disappeared, drowned out by the rest of the instruments, yet it continued to play its beat faithfully.
He watched Agrias' face contort, content with his instrumental as she rose, her hands unseen, yet he knew that within her gloves, her knuckles were clenched white.
'Never while I have the advantage...' Ramza thought, having long since made the decision to challenge Agrias...
***
Agrias knew that Ramza decided to reveal himself to her now... or something to that effect. She wondered why, even so, why she felt so jaded at that, asking herself why should she not feel happy?
Its what you wanted, isn't it? Agrias pondered as Ramza talked to the musicians on the floor.
She noticed the attention on him by the others as well, and she was angered by that. It was only her attention that Ramza required, what he was doing caught the eye of most others in the room having nothing better to do than finding entertainment out of someone else's torment.
She knew she was hurting Ramza, but she could not erase the thought of how he was hurting her as well.
He was resigned to his fate. He hadn't said as much, but whatever happened to him, Agrias knew Ramza believed as something he deserved. The willingness to put himself into harm's way... With Ramza, Agrias sees not Death catching up with her interest, but her source of so much contention and anguish running down the reaper himself.
Ramza did not want to run his own life; his inability to discard his heritage and become independent. He would always place himself in someone else's service. Even for the dead. Agrias understood that which Ramza had never been able to accept: he had never forgiven himself for whatever he had allowed to happen in his past, and in his eventual demise he saw his atonement.
Could I love someone who is already dead?
Could someone who feels no love for themselves love others?
You're leaving your rejection to me, Agrias concluded, anger rising from her revelation. 'Did you ever think you could even succeed?' she mouthed, expecting him to read her lips, so that he would answer to her accusation. 'Was I simply a fantasy to you... a mere thing to pine after...'
She did not know how long he would be separated from her, most likely longer than the handful of days, but infinity of moments, that she had shared with him, and she knew both of them wanted to continue. Yet, with his mindset, no matter how skilled he may be, it was a matter of eventuality that the dice would tumble against him.
When he began to play, it wasn't the music that impacted her, but the sadness that she could sense radiating from him.
She saw the determination in his eyes, and the resignation in them... and she was enraged. Unless you expect yourself to succeed in loving me, Ramza, how could you expect me to love you?
***
Having Agrias' attention, Ramza began to sing. "So close, no matter how far."
How cliché... Agrias thought. She could tell that his voice was strained as he sought to keep his voice low and still project to her.
"Couldn't be much more from the heart..." Ramza confessed, catching her eyes. "Forever trusting who we are," he continued cryptically, "and nothing else matters."
Yet... why do you have to leave? Agrias mentally retorted, sitting herself down as she noticed the stares beginning to accumulate as eyes began to follow Ramza's gaze to her.
"Never opened myself this way," Ramza continued, giving Agrias a guilty smile, and a little of his melancholy fell away. "Life is ours," he admitted, "we live it our way." was his concession to their differences. Agrias noticed how he stretched out the last syllable in his lines.
As his voice began to sound anguished, Agrias wanted to believe him when he sang to her, "All these words I don't just say," tugging at something within her as he repeated himself, reverting to his blank tone, "and nothing else matters." Then, why can't you change? Agrias asked again.
Ramza paused, and when he began again, frustration was in his voice, almost accusing her, which Agrias had to check herself to keep from reacting negatively. "Trust I seek, and I find in you." Agrias wanted to hate him, ignore him, anything that would keep him from reaching her. "Everyday for us, something new," he continued, almost pleading as the anguish and frustration manifested was transforming in humility. "Open mind for a different view..." he sang with a tired glow, "and nothing else matters..." he repeated again.
This time, Ramza lashed out at the rest of his audience, "Never cared for what they do," he told her, anger marring his soft voice. "Never cared for what they know..." he reminded her, trying to get her to think back on the few nights they had shared, "but I know," he finished, breaking rhythm, sounding empty, and alone.
Ramza stopped his strumming as he said softly, breaking from the others as he began speaking plainly to her, "So close," he reminded her, "no matter how far," again he brought up their recent past. "Couldn't be much more from the heart," Ramza repeated, his voice uncertain, wondering if Agrias believed him.
"Forever trusting who we are," Agrias mirrored his speech, acknowledging her pledge to him when her will was at an ebb during Ovelia's pursuit, and he was there to hold her up, to assist her, and simply be there. "And nothing else matters..." she agreed, their two voices failing to synchronize, but none could tell who was parroting who.
"Never cared for what they do," Ramza sang again, his voice weaker than before as he tried to smile at her, and she sighed, suppressing the disappoint she felt. Yes, Ramza... but it wasn't all about them, she thought, wishing that he too would understand. "Never cared for what they know..." something that Agrias thought was hinting at something else, something that she could not understand right now. "But I know." Now, his mysterious smile appeared for a moment, before it disappeared.
As the instrumental began, Ramza participated again, beginning his light, practically undistinguishable playing. As he slowly weaved laterally, Agrias saw the invitation in his expression, and she wanted to damn him for how tempting a figure he was at that moment.
Angry with him or not, Ramza shone. As she caught his eye once more, Ramza playfully exaggerated and stylized his strokes, which the violinist mimicked in his playing. He was armored as a dragoon... and Agrias found herself thinking 'delicious.'
***
Taking a brief glance towards Ovelia, who mouthed to her fiercely, 'You won't forgive yourself if you don't do anything! Just go!' Agrias rose awkwardly again, trying to ignore the stares –some of them venomous, some amused- all of them critical and invasive. The eyes of the women were particularly vicious, and Agrias was no small part annoyed at that. So, she followed her reason and acted as she knew was best. She ignored them while still acknowledging their disdain. "And no one else matters..." Agrias said nervously, amazed that she could bring herself to say something like that. Do I mean it? She asked herself. For now I do... and nothing else matters. She chuckled at that as she took Ramza's almost devious –though heartfelt and terrified on his part- enticement.
Her pace was swift, frantic, as she wondered why she was rushing towards him with this energy, fervor, and desperation.
He only averted his gaze to return the instrument he had borrowed, the lead guitarist relieving him.
"Why are you doing this to me?" she asked him bluntly, wondering why she felt such a rush.
Likewise, Ramza was affected, standing before Agrias, awaiting her verdict. Accepting defeat before was to accept failure, to accept whatever came –including success- was another. "I cherish you. Whatever duty I am given, even if it seems that my death is certain... I want to return to you." Ramza's breathing was beginning to become erratic as his anxiety peaked. "Even if you believe that death will run me down... I want to live. Not for you, but for myself." She was surprised that Ramza did not seem hesitant at all, almost eager as he nearly stuttered his revelation.
Agrias had been prepared to hear something else – and some part of her wanted to swat him down had he uttered those three words, yet, this change in phrase confused her. "You're just telling me what I want..." she instinctively replied. Either love him, or discard him... don't let him linger, her mind screamed, compelling Agrias to make a decision.
Instead of coming back at her with his own reply, Ramza simply nodded in that same accepting manner that she both hated and admired, because it allowed people to accept blame where they may be innocent. Agrias didn't care if she got her way in an argument; she cared if she was correct. Being a penitent martyr was cowardice to her, denying both sides justice. "I want to live, with or without you." The alarm that she saw rise in Ramza's crimsons eyes relieved Agrias somewhat; it was better than the terror that had been there before.
"There's so many things wrong with both of us," she pointed out, and as Ramza approached her, she stepped back. In turn, she saw Ramza flinch, and again, her eyes saw his dull and fade. She wondered if crimson eyes could cry ruby tears. Agrias felt that she was bleeding Ramza's heart –the pain she could feel him emanating indicated that she was all but torturing him.
"I don't want to run anymore," Ramza said, pre-empting any excuse she could make. "There is always going to be a later time, but, the present is here."
"What are you trying to tell me?" Agrias put bluntly. As long I don't keep him wriggling on the hook... anything that I say is fine.
As Ramza blinked, she saw the tension in his body disappear. She had been worried, as she saw what she believed could've been anger in him as she spoke. "Something that if you do not know by now, then its something that you deny." His eyes had a ruby sheen now, a glow of life, intensity, and passion beginning to show. "When you don't listen to me, or when you push me away, it doesn't hurt so much," Ramza told her. "What causes me agony is that you are closing me off from your heart."
And since when has any part of my heart been yours? Agrias would've said, but the bitter rejoinder died before she could speak. Justice, not malice, Agrias told herself. "You say that you'll come back to me?"
"Yes, even if its something that you should never have to hear. Not because its not your place, but because, because I believe that you know what I feel." He took a soft breath, waiting as Agrias approached him, shattering the physical barrier that she had created. "I want to share my life with you."
"And you can't do that from the grave, yours or mine," Agrias acquiesced. "Both of us can die, but, I can't help what I feel; I believe you seek your death." She lifted her eyebrow when Ramza slipped his right hand behind her back, and took her right hand in his left. "What are you doing?"
Ramza took a moment to cock his head at the band. "Actions speak louder than words."
"And it took you this long to act... after so much speech," Agrias gently accused, her voice lacking any malice or anger as she allowed. She had to give Ramza credit as he held her tighter instead of trying to defend himself. Wondering why she was having a change of heart, Agrias simply chose to go with the moment. "And nothing else matters," she told him, awkwardly leaning her head into the crook of his neck, the peace she thought tainted by the discord of their emotions.
***
***Author's Notes***
This chapter... I'd allude it to being a can of Campbell Soup. Concentrated, powerful, but unprocessed. It needs to be given volume and final preparation.
I've lost my objectivity. The mood of this scene changed halfways... and hell, the tune 'Kiss Me' almost began to play in the background.
The characters are confused. More or less, an ultimatum had been issued, made, and/or broken, all without Ramza's knowledge of anything ever happened until it was too late.
Maybe I should go into Ramza's thoughts... but the problem with that would be, there'd be a lot of bitterness, disappointment, and sorrow within them. Unless you're really sick or deprived... angst like that is too much. I like to write angst... but the stuff that's going through Ramza's mind... no. That's really taking it too far. Especially since its more or less a reflection of what I'm trying to survive.
This fic is Drama... not a DarkFic. I don't want to leach off characters' pain, and reasons like that are whats keeping me from doing much more with this story.
I suppose I could move on with the game's storyline, but the gauntlet's been laid down by Agrias here, and Ramza chose to pick it up. It HAS to be resolved on some level.
So, for now, expect nothing from this story for a few weeks until I regroup. Its doing no good when I'm not thinking about this story except for the moments where I force myself to type.
***Author's Notes***
***Readers' Response Corner***
To all: Sorry.
***Readers' Response Corner***