We are all sitting at the common area. Me with my book, Tifa with Marlene. It took little to calm the child. Tifa had brought her favorite Midgarian candy; a stick with sugar on it. She brought me a chocolate bar. I haven't had chocolate since I woke up. I haven't eaten it yet because I'm waiting for my blush and humiliation to pass from behind my book. Also… I'm a little afraid to eat it- I remember chocolate as something almost divine in its flavor. I'm afraid to shatter that memory. There are a few memories like that in my head. Like love… I remember it used to feel great, but all I can think of now is the pain it can cause- Cabbages, too- I remember they used to want to make me gag. Don't know why I remember that.
"Truth is," Tifa starts, repositioning Marlene on one knee, "that Barret sent me here to make sure Marlene was ok."
"…Doesn't trust me?" I raise an eye brow. She can see just my eyes from over my book. I made sure of it. Some semblance of a cape-collar in a form of a book. Tifa seems embarrassed for her friend. Or maybe for herself? I never bothered to inquire if she trusted me.
"Nothing like that." She's quick to say, though she averts her gaze, "He's just really protective of you. Isn't he, Marlene?"
The child smiles. She seems not to harbor any hard feelings towards my earlier treatment of her nor towards Tifa's laughter thereafter. Tifa was laughing at me, anyway. She looks back at me and says with a lovely smile,
"To quote him; 'he didn't want anything funny happenin'."
"But I'm all about funny." I protest, and look at her as she laughs. I'm glad I can make her laugh sometimes. She needs to laugh more and don't mind the sound of it.
Marlene says she wants to stay up, and to my mortification, Tifa allows it. They both swear via their pinkies that Barret will not find out. They try and coerce such nonsense out of me, but I ignore them; pretending to be engrossed in this book. They give up, knowing that their 'secret' is safe with me.
Tifa seems a little tired, but that's to be expected.
I'm getting to the terribly drawl periods of the book; the ones after Shinra's war with Wutai. The war itself was interesting to read about. I'm from Wutai, as you know, and it was nice to have an explanation to the state of the city. Admittedly it struck a cord to see my hometown thus reduced, but it was my hometown so long ago… I'm not sure I'd even recognize my own home if I past it by. Last I've seen of 'home' and 'family' was when I was fifteen.
…I wonder if anyone I know is still alive?
That though strikes me just as Tifa addresses me about my health, and I file it aside to examine later. Maybe I should go back there and check on things- for curiosity's sake.
"How is everyone down there?" I ask in way of conversation, after assuring her that I'm fine. I'm not lying when I say it because the nagging pain is too trifling to mention.
"Fine." She says with an imperceptible sigh, "Busy."
"How are you?" I ask from genuine concern. She's a friend. I don't want to see her down.
"Fine." She lies. I look back to my book so I might debate the conundrum: Do I press the matter with the chance of upsetting her, or do I let it slide? A part of me argues that if she needs my help she'll ask. It's none of my business. She's a strong woman. She won't appreciate my nose in her affairs.
It's probably nothing.
Now I'm staring at the book, eyes passing over lines of ink that would have meant something if I bothered reading them. The scribbles turn into a snake that eats at my concentration.
What's bothering her?
…I don't think I'm going to get a lot of reading done.
I glance up to see what the girls are doing: Marlene is playing with the TVs remote, just pointing it at things and making laser noises. Tifa I find sitting on the loveseat, hugging her knees. He gaze is on me, but really through me. I'm not sure if she's staring at me or even seeing me.
"Let's play something." She says distantly.
"Alright." Say I, uncertain what she has in mind. I can't even remember when I played a game last.
"How are you at Trivia?" She's chewing on her bottom lip.
"Lacking." I was out of the loop for almost a generation.
"Great!" This, to my dismay, cheers her up instantly. She gets up and bounds to grab the game box, Marlene hot on her heels to help.
She brings out a dusty old box that Shera had given us a while ago. It has the words "Esoteric Pursuit" on it. I raise a brow and straighten from my lax sitting position into something a little more attentive. I'm not much for games.
I glance at the two giggling girls from the top of my book and suppress a sigh.
They briefly explain the rules to me and then they insist that my book will give me an unfair advantage. I concede after a short debate to read a different one. Tifa shoves something called 'The Count of Monte Cristo' at me. Apparently it became all the rage a few years after my entombment.
I only half pay attention to the game as it progresses. Tifa said that I'll like the book; she said that the hero and I are much alike.
Even half noticing I still win the game. Considering it was an old version, and considering I smartly avoided any questions about technology I was rarely stumped for an answer.
The girls are visibly frustrated by my easy win- or maybe they're just agitated that I pretend to be smug about it.
"Honestly, Vincent," Tifa says, "Is there anything you don't know?"
I give her a wide eyed look from the top of my book. She's kidding, I assume. I don't know anything: I don't know what's bothering her, what she's thinking, why Marlene is so confusing, I don't understand have the gadgets of this age, what She was thinking when She married Hojo, what possessed Hojo to do all those atrocities…
And most of all; I don't know me. I don't know what I'll be doing in a week. I don't know where I belong. I don't know if I'll ever die of natural causes, I don't know how my body really works. I don't know why I hurt, I don't know what I'm looking for. Winter is coming and I don't have any food for my heart and I don't know if I'll survive it.
Silent, I return my attention to my book.
After a short while I hear,
"Join us?" From Marlene. A peek over the book reveals that the girls have cleared the coffee table and were now setting up a game of… Candy poker?
Is this really good for the kid? Sure, the chips are now colorful pieces of candy, but the ethicality of teaching a mere infant the intricacies of poker seems debatable.
"No." I answer. I had enough foolishness for one night. I just want to read my book. I want time to think and be alone. Or to pretend that I'm thinking and find distractions from the real issues…
Tifa says to Marlene, "Don't ask him to join; he probably sucks at poker!"
"Excuse me?" I look up at her with a leveled glare. When I was younger I loved gambling. Being poor, the idea of becoming unhealthily rich just for a stroke of luck appealed to me. Then I joined the Turks and learned how to read people. Poker soon became my favorite game, and then soon after my least. No one likes a winner.
Tifa meets my glare with amusement all over her face. Great, I was just goaded into the game. She knows I can't back off now and keep my honor.
"Very well." I make myself more comfortable in my seat. To prove my indifference to their little mind tricks and games, I put my one remaining foot on the coffee table, keeping the other one comfortably stretched under it. I reach out and gesture for the cards with the most confidant gesture I can remember. I heard Cid say something once that fits this situation: 'bring it'. I can win even while reading my book. I'll show these upstarts what happens when you mock a Turk. Ex-Turk. Whatever.
I was expecting Tifa to teach the child the rules, but I admit I was surprised when said child was shuffling the cards with a dealer's expertise and ease. I guess I should expect her to know about these things- she was a bartender at Seventh Heaven, wasn't she?
We're playing Costa Del Hold'em.
After a few rounds I start winning and decide not to stop until I prove my point. However Marlene gives me these terrible puppy-dog eyes every time I take candy from her. What am I supposed to do about it? You should stop loosing and then eating what you have left. It's not my fault a six years old doesn't have a poker face.
Fine. Fine, fine, fine! I'll loose a few games for you. Just… Just stop staring at me like that.
Tifa, you need to teach the kid to lose with dignity, and to stop eating her playing chips.
"How are you so good?" Tifa demands at one point, throwing down her Straight when I nonchalantly display my Flush. "Even if I call your bluff though that poker face of yours- you always know when to fold! It's almost as though you know what we're holding!"
"Yeah!" Marlene pipes in angrily.
I give them each a steady look, trying my best to look as snooty as possible without actually changing my expression. "Tifa," I begin, giving the brunette my attention, "You play with your belt when you're bluffing." She gives a start at that. "And when you've got a good hand you'll lick your lips. Marlene," I feel ridiculous in contrast to her simple, pleading look, "You're as easy to read as this book." She blinks at me, then blushes. "Besides," I add and cannot repress a smirk, "I count cards."
"What!" Tifa's expression is priceless. I'm pretty sure she wants to hit me. It's something between astonishment, rage and laughter. That's what you get when you play with a cheating Turk. The rottenest Turk that ever did rot.
By the end of the game all candy ends up in Marlene's stomach and she falls asleep. It's almost 1:00am, and Tifa carries her back to her bed.
.
Hey, everybody! Another chapter as usual. I'm thinking about a sequel already. Let me know by the end if you'll read a sequel?
I was surprised by the guilt people had over laughing at Marlene's fall! I was amused. I'm glad I affected people in this way. Yumithebutterfly mentioned that she thought the story was funny. Do you think it's more funny than serious? Is it the right balance? Do the dramatic parts have adequate impact? It's going to go on a bit of a more serious tone for a while- but I'm wondering if even the serious parts are too light-hearted. I wonder what the… 'flavor', I guess… what the flavor of the story is. I have it so set in my head that it's hard for me to say. Please help?
Some people commented on the fact that Vincent sounds a little different in the previous chapter. There are two reasons for that; One is that I'm trying to have him slowly change. Perhaps I'm doing too fast if people can tell… The second reason is that Marlene confuses and irritates him- being confused is really hard to write in first person (For me at least…!). I'm trying my best, but we'll see how the reaction is to this chapter and the next ones.
To answer Tolea's questions:
-We will only see a small fragment of Vincent's past. It's because he doesn't like thinking about it. The possible sequel might deal with it a lot more…
-I believe firmly that Vincent is Sephiroth's father.
Today's additions to the eternal thanks list are: Sonicron, SilverPurity & Cal reflector. You are added to the ones who have previously and currently hold my undying gratitude. Your words are a gift to my soul.
Oh, and thanks for the extra cookie, Tiramisu! Yay! I get cookies… munch… munch…