Jobs are tiring, even more so when you can't bring yourself to write while trying to relax. That is all.

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Book II, Part I: Outbreak - Vector's Gambit

Chapter IV—Making Waves

[July 12, 2152 | Galbadia City, Darius DeValle, Jr.'s Residence | 1:47 AM]

Darius stifled a yawn as he stepped down the hall towards the kitchen, drearily cursing his body for betraying him at this late hour. Or was it early, he considered as he flicked the light switch and glanced at the clock on the wall. Whatever it was, it was the wrong time for such musings. He'd been unable to sleep ever since he went to bed some two or three hours ago, his mind full of thoughts of the mission and the one he loved...had loved. Reaching into a cabinet, he grabbed a glass and filled it with water from the tap, gulping some of it down and heading for the living room. He wasn't sure yet what he was going to do, but anything had to be better than tossing and turning in bed all night. As he entered, his mind snapped a warning as he saw a figure standing in the darkness with their back to him, silhouetted by the moonlight filtering through the living room window, but relaxed again as he realized it was merely Sumiko.

That made him start wondering, of course, why she was also up at such a late hour.

"Darius," she said, still looking through the window out into the Galbadian streets. "Odd to see you up this late."

"Couldn't sleep," he said with a mild shrug, stepping over to take a seat on the sofa. "I could say the same about you."

"I'm more of a night person, myself," she commented, finally turning to face him. "Plus, I'm...interested in this city. It's strange to see a place where the night is more active than the day."

"Galbadia has always been like that - at least, as long as I can remember coming here," he replied. "It's the only place I know of that operates this way. Don't know if things will change with the Deling family out of the picture now, but...it'll be interesting to see what happens."

Sumiko nodded politely, walking away from the window to take a seat of her own in one of the chairs in the room. "You're more troubled by all of this than you let on, aren't you?"

Darius carefully kept his expression neutral, not wanting to share too much of his inner feelings on the matter. "...Somewhat," he finally offered, looking over at the blond girl. "I don't like the timing. It's too...I don't want to say 'convenient,' because that's not the truth. 'Coincidental' might be a little better. So many things are happening in the world now, and this just happens to come back up after years and years? It doesn't add up."

"I'd think you'd be happy at the chance to lay this to rest for good."

"Don't get me wrong - I'm glad that I'll finally have the chance to avenge Lindsey. But for this to happen now, of all times? I don't believe much in coincidence, luck, superstition...whatever you want to call it, but it stinks of trouble, and I don't just mean the trouble that comes along with a mission like this. I've got a bad feeling - a really big one."

He took a deep breath as he finished, leaning back into the cushions again and trying to relax. His words, emphatic as they were, still felt like an understatement to the nagging feeling he couldn't shake...hadn't been able to shake since he first got wind of the news. It hung around in his mind like a storm cloud, looming over his thoughts at every turn. Sumiko, meanwhile, pondered his words - she didn't share his sentiment, but that wasn't to say it was to be disregarded outright. Paranoia seemed to be a fairly common trait for SeeD officers, at least in moderation, and she couldn't entirely say that it was unfounded for them to have such feelings. Still, she tried not to dwell on the thoughts. The mood in the room was souring even more so than it was already, and there was no point in adding to mild insomnia and nerves with more negativity.

"You know, you haven't told us much of anything about Lindsey," Sumiko started, hoping to steer the conversation onto at least somewhat more pleasurable grounds. "What was she like back then?"

Inwardly, Darius winced. He'd never been good at sharing his personal feelings; Silvia and Andréa were the only ones who could usually drag those kinds of details out of him, but they were almost as close to him as sisters, Silvia especially. He warred with himself for a few long seconds about what to say or whether to say anything at all before he finally chose to speak. Maybe talking about it would help, at least in some small fashion.

"Lindsey was...well, to use the cliché, everything I wasn't. Smart, beautiful, funny...she lit up a room just by being in it, without having to do anything at all. She had a bit of a temper, though...you really didn't want to make her mad. She'd make you regret that really fast."

"I'm guessing that you found that out the hard way, hm?" Sumiko asked, a small smile creeping onto her face at his words. Darius let out a small chuckle, nodding.

"Oh yeah. Almost from the first time we met, actually."

"How did you meet, exactly? Was she in SeeD already when you met her?"

"Yeah, she was - at Galbadia. She came to Trabia for a developmental course, and I happened to need a tutor. I, ah...was pretty bad at math back then. She offered to tutor me in some things, one thing led to another, and...we started going out. Nothing big and fancy to it, really."

"Knowing you, I kind of expected to hear some long, drawn out tale involving copious sums of money exchanging hands and favors being thrown around," Sumiko jested. Darius merely shrugged at the thought of it - it may well have been the truth, had they met a few years later than they did.

"Well, Silvia did prod me a little to ask her out the first time. Not that I was afraid to, I just wasn't sure it was a good thing; back then, they used to frown on that kind of thing. Then she made me realize that it wasn't as uncommon as I thought, provided it wasn't command staff or someone in my direct chain of command. Andréa simply threatened to beat me senseless until I asked her on a date."

"So, you were friends with them back then?" Sumiko asked. She was genuinely interested in hearing more about Darius, given how little she knew about the gunslinging alchemist.

"Yup. Silvia and I, we met a long time ago, probably when we were about six or seven. Our families were still civil to each other back then, so it's definitely been a while. She's about the closest thing I have to a sister, really."

"What about Andréa?"

"I didn't meet her until she came to Garden. You could say we hit it off...literally."

"Oh?"

He chuckled again, nodding and taking another sip of his beverage. "You know, the first time we met? I actually tried to kiss her. She slugged me so hard that I had to get my Garden picture retaken after I left the infirmary. We've been friends ever since."

That got an open laugh from the blond girl - she suddenly had a mental image of Andréa punching Darius in the face and realized that it would be a perfectly normal interaction between the two, given their temperaments.

"I can't believe you would be that...forward with someone," she said, getting herself back under control with the exception of the grin which didn't want to leave just yet. "Knowing Andréa, you may have gotten off lucky."

"Oh, I should've gotten some broken bones at the least. I guess I was just too charming."

Sumiko merely shook her head in amusement - she'd also never expected Darius to be so humorous, given his normal attitude about things. Maybe, she thought to herself, she was seeing a bit of the Darius that existed before Lindsey died...a little more of the person he actually was before he buried that part of himself under all the hurt it caused. She found herself stifling a yawn moments later, finally seeming to be tired, and Darius couldn't help but follow suit as his body continued to demand a ceasing of physical activity.

"...Thanks," he remarked, setting the glass down on the coffee table in front of him. "I think you might've been right."

"About what?"

"I think I needed to talk about this some...get some things off my chest, remember the good times. If I lose that, I don't have anything left...not of Lindsey, or my past."

"You're in a bad spot, Darius," Sumiko said with a nod, leaning forward in her seat. "It's not easy, but you're moving forward. Sometimes, that's really all you can hope to do...just go forward, and see what's down the road."

"You're certainly one to talk about moving forward," Darius countered with a smirk. "When are you going to finally go ahead and ask him out already?"

"W-What?" Sumiko stammered, eyes widening a fraction as she found herself caught completely off guard by the shift in topic. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, don't play coy with me. You know exactly what I'm talking about - and believe me, if I can see it? Everyone can see it."

Without waiting for a response, he stood up from his seat and grabbed the glass of water in one fluid motion, downing the rest of it as he made his way back towards the kitchen. "Think it over," he called, a quiet 'clink' sounding from the kitchen as he dropped the glass in the sink and headed back down the hall towards his room. Sumiko suddenly found herself very alone in the room, with only her thoughts to keep her company...thoughts she'd not expected to find herself contemplating at this hour.

"That was dirty," she murmured to herself, leaning back in the chair and looking up at the ceiling in a daze. "Then again, it's Darius...I really should have seen it coming."

As morning broke and the nightlife of Galbadia City started to retreat to their homes with the arrival of the sun's first rays, Darius' SeeD group were finding themselves embroiled in the details of mission plans, hoping to maximize their efficiency without sacrificing safety. While Andréa, Naoki, Sumiko, and Silvia weren't terribly concerned about being the targets of any ill-doing outside of what a civilian in their position might bring, Darius and Revolver knew better. The DeValle family owned large portions of businesses and housing in the city, and even though the Deling family's influence seemed decisively crippled, neither one held any assumptions about who might decide to call in a favor for some slight against the family, real or otherwise, and interfere. Not to mention that if any of them were seen with either of the DeValle brothers, they would be at risk of picking up a reputation of association with the family and the problems that it brought.

"So, it'll be me, Revolver, and Andréa," Darius said, looking over the gathered members of his team with a focused expression. "We'll head out and meet with my contact, while the three of you head down to the local police station and find what you can regarding records of Lindsey's murder. I had dad make sure that we'd be okay to check things out there, so you shouldn't have too much of a problem unless you run into some snotty clerk or something."

"And if we do?" Naoki asked.

"Then we'll find some other way to get what we want," Darius said with a shrug. "I've got a lot of people in this city who owe me a lot of favors. If that doesn't work...we'll improvise. I'm good at that."

"Always eager to play things by ear," Andréa commented from beside him. "You haven't changed a bit since I met you."

"It's what keeps things interesting in the world of business," Darius remarked. "It's no fun if everything's guaranteed, after all." He shot a glance at his GLD to note the time, looking back up a moment later at his team. "Any questions?" Seconds passed, but no one made a move to ask anything, and Darius nodded in reply. "I say we get to it, then. Daylight's wasting."

[July 12, 2152 | Galbadia City, Rubedo's Café | 9:16 AM]

Andréa's cloth-covered eyes kept a careful 'watch' on their surroundings as they walked down the street towards Rubedo's, the DeValle family-owned coffee shop where Darius had decided to meet his contact for a chat. The small café was surprisingly popular for its size even before the DeValle family had acquired it, and Darius found himself making a visit to it almost every time he brought himself to the area. He'd once asked Rubedo Alaberti if there was any particular reason why the store shared his name, but he'd never gotten a straight answer from the boy, leaving him to wonder whether he was named after the shop, the shop was named after him, or if the whole thing was some amusing coincidence.

The lack of attention was a good thing, she reasoned - either no one noticed who they were, no one cared, or no one was particularly fond of having their face beaten to a pulp in broad daylight. Most people, regardless of the animosity they held towards the DeValle family, weren't keen on attacking a known SeeD officer and alchemist without either a plan, some seriously stacked numbers in their favor, or - better yet - both. Any would-be muggers or the like who weren't likely to know or care who they were...well, she supposed it would make their time in the city interesting if one happened to be brave.

A bell tinkled softly at the door ahead of them as Darius pushed it open, the red-haired boy stopping to hold it for Andréa and his brother before letting it swing shut and turning his attention to the counter.

"Still running this place, huh, Roland?"

The man behind the counter, a burly man with a balding head and a scar that stretched from his left cheek down towards his jawline, chuckled as Darius approached, leaning one arm onto the polished wood.

"Yeah, something like that. Either keep working or be broke when I retire, you know - not much choice there. Gonna get your usual?"

"Think so," he replied, looking back at Andréa and Revolver. "You guys want anything?"

"I'm fine," Andréa said, while Revolver simply shook his head in refusal.

"Suit yourselves," Darius stated, leaving Roland to deal with his order as he scanned the mostly-empty room for the one he was looking for, finding him a moment later. He motioned for the pair to follow him as he walked over to one of the corner booths and slid a chair out for himself. "Sergei - it's been a while, pal."

The blond man across from him simply nodded, reaching up and adjusting the glasses he wore as he watched the two DeValle sons and their companion sit down with him. He picked up a small item from the table, some kind of pocket-sized device with a small keyboard attached, before starting to type.

"Yes, it has," the device displayed to the trio, a holographic display appearing from the top of the handheld device as the man finished typing to show the words. Revolver looked at the device with interest for a moment before the reason for its presence caught his eye - a nasty-looking scar across most of the man's throat that appeared to be a very old wound, and not one that had been a very clean cut, either. Apparently, his throat - and voice - had been damaged somehow in the past, hence the need for the device's assistance. "You've been well, I see," Sergei typed after the first message vanished.

"Eh...I've had some ups and downs, really, but that's just part of the game," Darius replied. "Let me introduce you - this is Revolver, my brother, and Andréa Beoulve, a close friend of mine."

"Good to meet you," Andréa said, nodding to Sergei. Revolver offered only a rather gruff nod at the introduction, causing Darius to roll his eyes.

"He's a bit of a grouch, so don't mind him too much," Darius remarked, grinning as he watched Roland walk to the table with his drink. He took the saucer and cup offered to him carefully, noting the steam rising from the beverage, and took a careful sip of the drink before nodding in satisfaction. "Hazelnut macchiato," he explained, gesturing to the cup. "You should have one sometime - it'll change your life. Really."

Sergei chuckled, a rasping noise that sounded more like a strangled series of gasps than laughter, before turning his attention back to the device in his hand. "How can I be of service, then?"

"You used to be one of the best snipers in the Galbadian military before you deserted. You've been in the shadows here for years. I want to know who you might know of that could make an accurate kill shot from a thousand meters."

Sergei's face drew into a frown as he considered the question. He'd seen a lot of people over the years who were excellent shots, but a shot from that distance was almost as much a factor of luck as it was skill. It took impressive prediction abilities, an intricate knowledge of the effect of wind and other variables on the caliber being fired, and just a hint of madness and willingness to defy the odds to pull off a shot of that range. He himself would've been willing to try years ago, but age had dulled his senses just enough to start being a burden on his skills.

"I can think of three," he wrote back after a minute or two of contemplation. "Joseph Brady. William Mercer. Fiona Carmichael. There are some others, but I have my doubts that they have the skill you're asking about."

"What do you know about them?"

"Beyond the obvious? Not much. I've been out of the game too long to keep track of any of them beyond rumors and the occasional tidbit. Brady is the oldest, so I would say he may have the most skill simply by experience, but I think that Carmichael is the most dangerous. Mercer is too unpredictable for me to really make any claims on."

"Why Carmichael?"

"There's something about her that is just unnerving. Rumor has it that people who get close to her, friend or not, tend to wind up missing. I don't mean missing as in 'wind up floating at the docks later,' either - I mean 'gone without a trace.' It's as if they cease to exist as a person."

Andréa tilted her head skeptically. "No one can just make people vanish into thin air without leaving some kind of trail." Even as she spoke, however, she gave Darius a glance as well, hoping that he was thinking the same thing she was. It wasn't technically impossible, per se, but Planeswalking was the closest thing she could think of to what Sergei was describing, and even that left a noticeable amount of residual energy that could be detected by the magically-attuned - even if those who weren't Planeswalkers wouldn't truly understand the nature of the energy beyond that it was some form of teleportation magic.

"I have heard stories that suggest otherwise. Investigating the ones who vanished turns up nothing. I have no desire to get too close and wind up one of those examples myself."

Darius merely smirked in reply. "We're SeeD, Sergei. We do the impossible on a daily basis. Don't worry about winding up a memory - we'll check things out ourselves. Anything else you can think of that might help?"

"Sadly, I cannot think of anything else. Just be wary, my friend. Any one of these people is well-connected and highly skilled. Even a DeValle should take them seriously."

"I will," Darius said, his face completely serious in contrast to mere moments before. "If you get into trouble, let me know. I'll find some way to bail you out of it."

Sergei nodded, typing one last thing on his display as Darius got up from his seat.

"Good hunting."

Andréa and Revolver followed Darius back towards the door, the youngest DeValle son only stopping briefly to drop some Gil on the counter for his drink and say a hasty farewell to the barista before stepping back out onto the streets and reaching for his GLD. Flipping it open, he sent a simple message to Silvia, who was leading the other half of his team.

"When you get to the station, see if you can get me anything on any of these three - Joseph Brady, William Mercer, and Fiona Carmichael. Criminal background, biographies, whatever you can."

Darius suddenly had to fight down a fervent bit of anger that bubbled up within him. If only he'd had the connections back then that he did now, business and otherwise...maybe he could've done more then to find out what happened. The rational part of his mind told him that was a fool's thought, however. His father had done just that when Lindsey had been killed, faring no better than he had...and his father had been more well-connected back then than he was even now. Dwelling on what could have been would get him nowhere now. It was time to keep moving forward and see what turned up. Puzzles were not solved instantly, after all, but one small piece at a time.

This chapter...irked me. I could see the scene in my head for the longest time, but I simply could not put dialogue to it no matter how hard I tried. Eventually, I realized that I was stressing too much over it instead of just writing what came to mind, and things got better.