- Final Fantasy IX : Have and Have Not -- Chapter Three : Insanity and Gargants-
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-- Those of you who have been reading my site probably know all about why this chapter took so long, but for those of you with slow internet connections (and who use Firefox, since my site isn't compatible), I owe you an explanation. It's all Kuja's fault.
See, he was being moody, and wouldn't tell me what he wanted to say, so I had to sit around for ages waiting ... and then when he finally decided that he wanted to get on with the story, I was busy with Aftermath (check out my account on it's on my site and it'll be up here soon enough), and so had to ignore him.
But anyways, the hiatus is over now, and although the chapters are going to be coming slowly due to the Trojan Virus on my computer that shuts it down at random, they will be coming. I'm attempting to get in the market for a laptop so that I can stop yelling at the computer whenever it deletes everything I've written, but, as of right now, I haven't been making great leaps and bounds.
But that's my problem. Until next time, read and review, please! --
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"And you're telling me that thing is going to eat this!" The yellow flower in her hands trembled as the beast rounded the corner again to stampede past. A fine trickle of dust fell from the rocky ceiling. Was this place stable? She'd asked that at first, but she hadn't been awarded an answer. Maybe He thought it was a question unworthy of his time.
He chuckled, shaking his head, as if he found her an amusing child. He hadn't said much the entire time they'd been in the tunnel. Or before they were in the tunnel. All in all, he'd hardly managed to string more than two sentences together since they'd met.
They'd left the auction hall via a small door in the wall. She hadn't noticed it before because if was completely concealed; made to look exactly like the wall around it. It closed promptly behind them as well. Sealing them off from the world. Sealing off any chance of escape she might have.
The tunnel behind the wall had slanted steeply downwards. The only light had been the torches placed in their sconces in the damp, mossy walls. The flames cast sickly, flickering light across the ancient stonework, made their shadows seem like ghostly spectres, looming in the corners of their conscious.
The journey up to this point had been tense, the silence absolute. She feared the answers that he may give the questions that were clawing at her closed lips, screaming to get out. His face was unreadable, completely devoid of any sign, any tiny scrap that may open a window into his thoughts. No matter how many glances she stole at him, nothing could be discerned.
He'd brought her to what seemed to be a building, buried under years of civilization. Craning her neck, she was awarded a wonderful view of the low, crumbling ceiling, looming over her with a certain crushing certainty, which was only accented by the thick, inky shadows lurking in the damp, mould-ridden corners. Again, there was silence as he pulled a lever on the wall, and more silence then followed. At least, until a rumbling reached the brick platform that they were standing on, and a giant creature barrelled past.
The creature was, quite honestly, the most bizarre thing that the pickpocket had ever seen. It was a dull brown in colour from abdomen to the tips of it's antennae. As it strode along the ceiling, it flitted it's wings and gnashed large mandibles, shaking it's head in a manner that suggested there was nothing that could possibly annoy it further than being there right now. Each long, armoured leg ended in a single, lethal looking claw, a claw that the creature was using the cling to the crumbling rock. A carriage dangled haphazardly below the Thing, held in place by rusted chains, attached to an ancient-looking harness.
It was then that he'd chosen to tell her that this was their mode of transportation.
She was quick to point out the problems with that thought. Firstly, there was the fact that, even if they could get that thing to stop -- which seemed rather unlikely, she had noted as the creature barrelled past again -- there was no guarantee that it was going to ferry them to wherever they were headed; and secondly she wasn't going anywhere until she at least knew what was going on.
This seemed to amuse him. But, then again, what didn't seem to amuse him? This guy was one big walking ... erm ... amused person. The pickpocket sighed. Her analogies were going to need some serious work if she was going to keep this running commentary to herself going.
Still chuckling to himself over some silent joke that she knew nothing of, her companion had located a clump of yellow flowers, and picked one from the bunch. "It will stop for this," he had said, holding out the flower to her, "as long as it is hungry enough."
As the creature tore by again, carriage still swinging wildly below it, he nodded to her. "Yes," he said patiently, "I am saying that the Gargant will eat that. And that, if you do not offer it to the Gargant, we're not going to get anywhere."
She stayed resolutely where she was gripping the flower in a hand that she was trying hard to keep from trembling. "No. I'm not doing anything until I get an explanation."
He heaved an exasperated sigh. The expression on his face was clearly readable, especially for a girl who'd spent time on the street, anticipating what people would do by expression and posture. This girl is tiresome. I should never have bothered. Or something along those lines, anyways. Sometimes it was hard to get the exact feeling across, but she usually got the gist.
What would his next move be? she mused privately. Maybe leave her here? No, he wasn't the type to do all this and then just abandon his efforts. Not from what she'd seen of him. He'd persevere, if only to get her to whatever punishment he'd been planning.
While she was still pondering over what he may do, he took action. An exasperated expression still playing across his face, he strode forwards, grabbed her wrist, and thrust it out into the path of the moving Gargant, nearly throwing her off balance. After reeling for a moment on the very edge of the platform, she threw all her weight in the opposite direction, towards her companion. He didn't flinch, not even in the slightest as he took on most of her weight.
Well, maybe that wasn't quite right. It wasn't like he was holding her or anything (much to her chagrin). Still, she could feel her face heating up -- a rare occurrence in itself -- as she clung to him for support. She shook her head to push some of her straight, dark hair out of her line of sight, then looked the man over. Before, she had been too much in shock, and too scared to really pay attention to what he looked like ... or how attractive he really was.
He was clad mostly in white and royal purple, but the silver of his long hair was easily the most noticeable thing about him. His clothes either hugged his sculpted body, or left it bare. And his eyes ... his eyes were the most captivating colour ... they almost seemed to be purple, no, indigo, but they were so pale that it was almost impossible to see the colour. It was so hard to describe ...
She was still staring, star-struck at him as the Gargant drew to a halt, and snatched up the flower from her hand. The feeling of the giant insect's mandibles brushing against her fingers made her shudder, but still the man did not relinquish his grip on her wrist. In fact, they stayed like that until the Gargant had taken the flower's stem, swallowed it whole, and had inspected her fingers for any bits of flower she might have been hiding. Then the strange creature heaved a satisfied sigh and pulled it's head back from her trembling fingers. At the same time, the man let go of her wrist, and she dropped her arm back to her side, managing to step away from him, finally.
If he noticed her staring at him, he said nothing. He was probably used to it, she noted, especially if he went out often dressed as he was now. He stepped from the platform they were standing on and into the rickety looking carriage hanging from the Gargant. She gulped just watching him. It swung dangerously as he turned to look at her, cocking a brow. "Well? Are you coming?"
She stared. His voice was the deep, rich, chocolaty kind of voice that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and sent a pleasurable shiver down her spine. For a few moments, she considered doing nothing just to hear him speak once more, but the thought was dashed when the Gargant shifted restlessly and let out a snuffling sound, shaking it's head from side to side as it took a hesitant step forwards. Scared of being left behind, she sprinted to the edge of the platform and stumbled into the carriage.
He caught her easily as she stumbled into his chest and swept her off her feet. Before she could react, though he set her down on one of the benches. He seated himself opposite. "Now," he said, assuming a relaxed position, "I want an explanation. A full one. What were you doing on my private balcony?"