Hello everyone.
So, this is the first story I've written. The first chapter does not say much but it is meant to be a humorous take on the less-than professional shenanigans that happen in Shinra.
It is not meant to follow game canon closely, though it takes place mostly before and during Crisis Core.
I'd appreciate any feedback that can be given, especially around the OC, I tried my best to make him appealing, but then again, he may be sinking into blandness, or worse, without me noticing –if he has, there may be time to save him!
English is not my first language, so if any wording or phrasing sounds odd, it is probably a result of that… I am constantly reading and re-reading the story, finding errors and fixing them, so if you spot any, let me know!
Thank you for reading!
The walls next to the entrance doors of Junon's military base had two large posters taped on them, each with a few dozen names and scores. The lists had the names of the candidates that had been selected to enter Shinra's world-famous SOLDIER program at Midgar. Amassed in front of the list were many aspiring candidates, many more than the names on the lists. Either drawn by the prospect of a good job or by the carefully-crafted propaganda that depicted the well-known First Class SOLDIERs, the yearly summons drew large amounts of impressionable young men to try join their ranks. Three easily distinguishable categories of candidates could be seen: the first, those that had just arrived and that looked sick out of the anxiety of having to check the posters. The second group was composed of the young men that looked in profound sadness at the lists, which did not have their names on them. The third, and by far the smallest group, were those that looked ecstatic after finding themselves selected.
Dante was in the second category.
He slowly walked away toward the elevator that led to lower Junon, without noticing the anxiety that his own semblance triggered on the candidates that were en-route to the lists.
He was not particularly surprised. Two weeks ago, Dante had traveled from his hometown, Costa del Sol, to apply and take the rigorous entrance tests to the program. His parents had attempted unsuccessfully to dissuade him from going. After all, why would he want to join the army? Dante's family ran a successful Inn in a popular tourist destination. They did not need the money, unlike many of the young men that came from other backwater towns, like Corel or Gongaga. He could eventually inherit the family business and go on being an innkeeper like his mother and grandfather before him. Still, it had been an unexpected move, even for him, to try to join the army. He wondered if it was a case of late-teenager rebelliousness.
Dante's introspection was interrupted when he almost crashed into another group of rejected candidates. They were gathering in front of a table manned by two men in blue uniforms: Shinra infantrymen. Those that failed entry into SOLDIER always had the option of joining the less-popular military units –provided the candidate was above a certain score in the SOLDIER tests. Many of the rejected candidates opted to enlist, as they could always re-apply the following year for SOLDIER. The requisites were laid in another poster behind the troopers, who were busy answering questions the rejected candidates had.
Dante read the requisites and sighed: although the scores required were lower -far lower- than those required for SOLDIER, he was still well below the minimum requirement in the physical fitness area. Dante was not skinny or underweight. He simply had not expected all the running he had to do during the three-hour physical examination, and fainted halfway through. Dante pushed aside the embarrassing memory of being carried back indoors and given a box of grape juice as if he were a child. In any case he took one of the pamphlets laid on the table and then walked to the elevator.
As he sat in the waiting area of the docks for the next ferry to Costa del Sol he thought of the other tests of the program: a written test filled with logical reasoning problems, language use and simple algebra –he had done fairly well in that one. The medical examinations had been a bit more unnerving to him, as he had stood buck naked along with other four candidates in front of a group of doctors than examined them in detail and after that, some blood had been drawn to check for STD's. In another room, a psychologist had directed him to draw seemingly inconspicuous things and performed an inkblot test.
In the last test the candidates were given materia to test for any affinity for magic. In a large unoccupied area in the airport, three examiners had been taking notes behind a large table that had gloves on top. Each of those gloves had a single slot occupied with different materia. The candidates were asked to select one and try casting anything out of it. Some had been unable to make them work. Others managed a few weak embers, shards of ice or short-traveling bolts. Dante had cast a bolt of lightning that had left the examiners surprised. He was promptly given another glove to try, and proceeded to cast a fair-sized (albeit short lived) ball of flame.
Unlike running (or any kind of physical exercise, for that matter) magic was something he was good at. Sometimes after school he and a friend would go to the outskirts of the town to use materia sneaked out of his friend's parent's shop. The fun was cut short some months into it after they got overexcited with some fire materia and set ablaze a sunflower plantation. He had been grounded for months and his friend was never allowed near the materia again. "At least all that practice had been good for something," he thought.
"Failed to get in SOLDIER?" a voice said to his right.
Dante turned to see the man sitting next to him. He was a bespectacled business man in a black suit, reading a newspaper folded on his lap. Most intriguing was the scar running from his jaw towards his eye.
"Yeah, didn't make the cut." He answered flatly, not in the mood for discussing his failure with a stranger.
"Do you plan on joining the infantry?" The stranger asked, pointing to the pamphlet in Dante's hands.
"Ah, no… I can't join there either," Dante answered, lowering his gaze a bit.
"Well, you did look like a deer caught in the headlights during the medical examination. And you really messed up the physical test. Fainting and all that."
"How do you even…!?" Dante felt blood warming his ears. He turned to face the black-haired man. It was likely that he worked for Shinra (who didn't in Junon?), but Dante could not recall seeing him in any examination.
"Nevertheless," the black-suited man continued, "you do show some promise in other areas."
From inside the folds of his newspaper he pulled a blue folder and opened it. The papers inside were scribbled with forms and notes. In the top-right corner of the first sheet, Dante's own photo was stapled: he was looking at his personal file from the SOLDIER tests.
"Candidate #0720. You will be 17 next month. Height: 1.70 m, 69.3kg. Your logical thinking and pattern-following abilities are what is expected from someone your age. You appear to be psychologically stable, albeit with a need to prove yourself that luckily, does not cause you to have problems with authority. Your parents run the Sunset Inn at Costa del Sol. When you were 14 you set ablaze a sunflower field while using materia of questionable origin. Your parents paid for the damages and no arson charges were filed. You do not have any formal training in any martial arts, are decent swimmer and..."
"Woa, woa! How do you know all that?" Dante was visibly disturbed and scared now. "My stats are one thing, I mean, I took the tests… But how in Shiva's cold grace do you know about the…" he lowered his voice to a whisper "…fire incident?"
"It is my job to know. Tell me Dante, did you practice often with materia before the incident? Have you since then?"
"You don't know that? Isn't it written there along with the report about my underwear preferences?" Dante said with a snort. The man ignored him and continued:
"Your magic affinity tests show promise. With some exercise to compensate for your, lack, of physical resistance and some training in hand-to-hand combat and weapon use you would make a fairly good agent. My boss certainly thinks so."
That caught Dante off guard. This stranger did work for Shinra, and was apparently trying to recruit him for… For what exactly? He had said 'agent' instead of 'corporal'.
"Who are you?" He finally asked. The man closed Dante's file fonder and said:
"I am here in behalf of the Department of Administrative Research, commonly known as 'the Turks'."
"Never heard of them" Dante said sincerely.
"I am not surprised; our line of work requires a certain degree of, discretion."
"And what is it that you do?"
"Espionage. Sometimes kidnapping and assassinations," the man said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Basically anything that must be solved with a scalpel instead of a sword. Although, truth be told, I was assigned not long ago to a babysitting mission, so I guess anything goes," he said bitterly.
Dante stared at the man intently and then let out a short, nervous laugh. The man looked at him with a dead serious expression that told Dante he was not joking.
"And you want me to…?"
"Come join us, if you are interested."
His day had suddenly taken a 180-degree turn. Dante considered his options. Sure, working as a spy of some sort sounded very interesting and in line with what he wanted, but the fame that came with SOLDIER was also very alluring. The discretion associated with the job was promising. Truth be told, he didn't want a fan club filled with stalkers that knew everything about him, from his shoe size to his favorite shampoo brand –he had heard about those- but still… Assassinations? He knew SOLDIERs would have to kill. After all, most publicity came from the exploits of its operatives in the war with Wutai. Still, the way this man presented his work made it sound morally aggravating.
"I… I think I'll pass… If I start exercising I'll be able to complete the physical test next year and…"
"You will not be able to join SOLDIER."
A look of confusion and shock passed Dante's face.
"The 14:30 ferry to Costa del Sol will depart in 15 minutes. All passengers please prepare you tickets for boarding at gate number two. Thank you," an announcer said aloud in front of them.
The man opened the folder again and extracted a sheet of paper from behind the page with Dante's photo. The top had Shinra's logo and read "Science Department". Below it followed:
SOLDIER candidate #0720
In-Vitro mako compatibility test results:
Candidate's blood shows VERY LOW compatibility with liquid mako.
Proceed to REJECT current and any subsequent enlisting attempts.
The signatures below were laid under a large red stamp that once again read 'REJECTED'. Turns out, his blood was not only for STD's.
"You are no doubt aware that the mako infusions are a large part of what make SOLDIERs. If they tried to inject it, you would probably die on the spot –not that Hojo is above trying anyway, just to satiate his curiosity." He took the page from Dante's hands and shuffled it back with the other papers in the folder.
Dante was now feeling something around his throat. The words 'reject current and subsequent enlisting attempts' were resonating in his head. Even if he joined the infantry he would never be able to make the jump to SOLDIER. He realized he had crushed the pamphlet in his hand. Dante stood, not knowing what to say.
The man continued: "Think about it. My offer may not be as glamorous as what you intended, but is certainly more interesting. Not many people complain about working with our department, at least." He handed a business card that Dante took slowly. "There is only so much that can be discussed now, if you are interested contact my boss at the mail address written of the back."
"I'll think about it. Thanks." Said that, Dante walked towards the gate, were the other passengers of the ferry were almost done boarding. Behind him the man said: "Oh, and Dante..."
He turned to face the man, who was now standing halfway in the dock. He was again reading something from his file. Finally, he enunciated: "navy blue and black in color. Chocobo jockey brand. Trunks." After that creepy, yet accurate statement, he closed the folder, pushed his sliding glasses up the bridge of his nose, turned around and walked away.
As he felt the blood rushing back to his ears, he started to have serious doubts about that shady venture. Perhaps a fan club would be less intrusive than his employers.
Dante looked at the back of the business card; a corporate email address was hand-written on it. On the front, along with the Shinra logo, an incredibly simple (for not saying dull) text read:
Tseng
+3967
UPDATE: as the story nears it's 25th chapter, there are some things I wanted to point out to anyone who decided to try this story out:
First: It starts really slow, the first 5-6 chapters are basically introductory.
Second: I decided around the 10th chapter to retroactively fit this story into the game's canon. This caused some wonkiness described by a reader as "leaving the timeline in shambles", I apologize beforehand.
Third: Eventually you reach some light yaoi -nothing explicit nor sexual in nature (OC+OC pairing). If this (I believe the term is "lime") is not your cup of tea, you have been warned :)
Fourth: Near the 30th chapter and further on, the story gets progressively darker and violent... You have been warned }:)
Fifth: If numbers 4 and 5 peaked your interest, be very welcome ;)
Sixth: Keep an eye open for other Final Fantasy easter eggs. I love hiding those in random chapters!
Any comments and suggestions will greatly help me improve my writing. Thank you for reading!