"Just another stupid story by a boring adult. "
-Squall
EVER THE SAME
Gilmahn walked through the streets of Deling City. It was beginning to get late. The bright sun turned into just a sliver on the horizon. The street lights began to light up along the street. Dark figures scattered about going to various places. All of the emotion and work of the election was over, and they had won. His friend ran for president, him and some others aided him. The people clearly saw they were an intelligent group, and worked well together. The election was close, not close enough to be worried though.
There was only one question left at this point. And that was, whether or not to go home and crash in his bed, or stop by one of the drink places open during the later evening. He decided to stop by and get a drink, he needed it. He worked nearly twenty hours straight the final night. He was young, and had aspirations of his own, of course. They talked about how Gilmahn would be a good successor for when his friend stepped down.
The bar was well lit, with wooden walls, painted an interesting shade of blue. There were a few people at other seats, but none at the counter. Gilmahn pulled up a stool and looked at the bartender.
"Anything I can get you?" He asked, with a smile.
"Whatever you think is good, surprise me."
The bartender started to turn, but stopped suddenly. "You have a bad day?"
Gilmahn shook his head. "Not bad. But getting to the not bad status was a pain."
"Oh, I know those type of days. Ill put a little zip to your drink." He grinned and turned around again.
"Go ahead, I don't mind." Gilmahn began to turn his attention away from the bar, and to the room around him. As he did so, another man entered the bar. He wore a long black coat, and had dark brown hair. He had a notebook with him. Gilmahn didn't seem to notice until the man sat down right next to him.
"You mind?" The man asked, loosening his coat a little.
"...No." Gilmahn nodded at the man, then looked away.
He began to think about Ultimecia, not even paying attention to the newcomer. What would he do this time? What would his approach be? How could he help her?
"Oh. You're Gilmahn." The man said, taking a long look at Gilmahn. He was wearing his usual red cape. The bartender gave him his drink, then moved on to talk to other customers. Gilmahn finally looked over again, a bit uncomfortable due to the strangers presence.
"Yeah?"
"One of the guys who won. I work for the newspaper. You mind answering a few questions?"
He had a long day, and now a reporter he didn't even know was bothering him. This wouldn't turn out good.
"Fine...I guess." He said, with little enthusiasm.
"What do you have to say to those who think you're only using your friends for political purposes?" The reporter asked, with a sly grin.
Gilmahn grabbed on to his glass and began drinking it heavily, until it was only down to about 1/4 left. He then turned back to the man. "Excuse me?"
"Sorry, probably not a good starter. What do you think about people saying you are too young for this stuff?"
"Oh, for cr--" He quickly dumped the rest of his drink into his mouth, and got up from his seat. The reporter chuckled a little.
"What's the matter, can't take a little heat? It comes with the job."
Gilmahn began to ignore him. Merely walking out of the small pub back onto the street. It was much darker out, the lights were the only light at all, even the moon was hidden behind the clouds. The man in the black coat followed Gilmahn out. He walked quickly behind him.
Eventually the man stopped. "How about one more. What do you think about the SeeDs celebrating another dead sorceress, the one Temoren killed."
That got his attention. Gilmahn stopped on the sidewalk, and slowly turned around. "I think, it's a tragedy." The reporter nearly made a full gasp at this response. "The fact that a modern society like ours hunts all of them down just because of one is unfortunate." He turned and kept walking, leaving the reporter motionless, mouth wide open. Saying something like that was like shooting yourself in the foot, except a few feet higher.
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Gilmahn walked into the small building, fully refreshed from his slumber. The base of operations of him and his friends during the campaign and such. A few of his colleagues gave him dirty looks as he walked further inside, until one of them walked up to him, tapping him on the shoulder.
"Gilmahn." He spun around quickly, to see who it was.
"Yes?"
"The President needs to speak with you..." He looked at Gilmahn, a bit sadly.
"Oh, alright. That's why I am here anyways." GIlmahn kept walking farther in until he reached a large wooden door, with a blurry window that can't be seen into. He knocked on the door lightly.
"Come in." A voice called from inside. Gilmahn opened the door to see his friend, the new President. He wore a gray and black suit. His hair a similar color to Gilmahn's. "Oh...Gilmahn." He cleared his throat a little. Looking back at his friend with an expression of pain. "Bud...We live in strange times. Times where you can't say certain things when you're in positions like ours."
"Oh?" He asked back, questioningly.
"Being supportive of Sorceresses' is one of them." He almost turned away, while Gilmahn looked at him straight in the eye. "And...I'm afraid we don't need you around here anymore."
Gilmahn chuckled a little. "Let's be serious now. What do you have for me to do today?" He smiled a little, but it slowly faded back to a frown as his friend continued to look back, unmoving. "You can't be serious."
"I am." He said back, bluntly.
"I guess he put that quote in an article. Oh well. I am right though."
"Our job isn't to be right." His friend said again, bluntly, and without emotion.
"Wow you are serious." He spat out, disgusted. Two other men from a small group of onlookers stepped into the room and grabbed him by each shoulder, and began to pull. "This is such a joke. I can't believe this." They continued to drag him back into the main room, towards the door, and forcefully down the steps onto the ground. "Absolutely ridiculous."
Gilmahn ended up back at the same pub. Hopefully that slime bucket would come back in, he thought to himself. He would be worth life in prison for. Or even an injection. But he never came. Gilmahn didn't mind either way. He drank much more than he had the night before. One, two, three, that was just a start.
"Hey, we're closing up in a minute." The bartender said. Gilmahn was the last one left in the room.
"Alright, bud. You take care now."
"I will. You don't need help getting home?"
"No, no...I'm fine." Gilmahn moved slowly out the door back onto the dark streets. He had been in there since early afternoon, and now it was dark. He looked up and down the street, both sides. He saw, and more apparent, he heard a small group of guys hanging around a street lamp a small distance from him. From the sound of it, they were drunk, but he wasn't too awake either. Unfortunately, he had to walk past them to get back home. He walked closer to the small group, and he began to get a bad feeling. Because they were wearing SeeD uniforms.
What a bunch of pigs, he thought. What had become of the SeeDs? He walked closer and closer. He moved as far as possible as he could to one side of the sidewalk to hopefully avoid their attention. Of course, that was too much to ask for.
"Heeeeey...You're that loser that was in the paper this morning. Badmouthing us huh?" One of the SeeDs stepped forward out of the group, getting right into Gilmahn's face.
"Can I help you gentlemen?" He said back, calmly. The three SeeDs behind the first one began to slide out what looked like daggers. He couldn't tell very well in the dark though. Before anything else could happen, he pushed the front SeeD back hard, and he fell back against the light post, and onto the ground. The rest of the SeeDs become angry at this and began to give chase as Gilmahn ran quickly down the road. Perhaps they were too drunk, or surprised by his speed, but he began gaining distance from them easily.
One of them kept giving chase though, as he quickly ran out of city bounds, into the wilderness. He started to slow down as he ran uphill, the rocks and dirt made it harder for him to run. The SeeD behind him began to gain again, his dagger still drawn. He began to breathe heavily. Finally, he fell onto the dirty ground, rolling down the hill, getting tears and holes in his cape. Eventually he came to a stop near the bottom, dirty, tired, and startled. He looked up, seeing the SeeD running at him still, at full speed, with the dagger.
He began to hear a few footsteps from behind him. It was too dark, and he wasn't in a good position to turn around and look. Was it the other SeeD's? Was this the end of the line? The visible SeeD was only a few feet away before the other figures jump into view, block his path. But the drunken SeeD kept coming anyways, impaling himself against a sword that was help out. "Uuuugh..." He groaned, and fell back onto the ground, not moving.
"Err..." The figure growled lowly. The two standing figures turned back and looked down at Gilmahn, still on the ground.
"Wh...Who are you?" He asked, confused.
"My name is Squall."
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Notes: Took longer again for this chapter, sorry. I saw a mention in the reviews of going through the part where Squall and all them go to fight Ultimecia. I'm not sure if I will be doing that, don't think I will be able to make it anymore interesting than it already is, and we all (I think) know what happens, but I might add it on later, not sure yet. That being said, the conclusion of my not-in-FF8 plot will be the next chapter, so stay tuned sometime this week, hopefully soon.
