boss_battle | Snippet Time!

Zell shrugs. "It's nice, sometimes. We all have good weeks and bad weeks."

"And a side of group therapy." Seifer whistles. "Are you all attempting to twist all Squall's knobs toward perfectly adjusted?"

Zell laughs. "Come on, Seifer, you were SeeD enough, minus the official paperwork," he says, giving Seifer a look, which doesn't accomplish anything besides making Seifer roll his eyes. "You know none of us will ever...adjust. Not like normal people."

Seifer laughs. "You are normal. You're the most normal of all of them."

Zell considers that. "One of my best friends is a sorceress." Zell pauses. "If I were normal that would scare me like it does everyone else."

"Yeah, well, whatever, your life is so hard," Seifer says. "Come be abnormal over here."

HOTTT.

Zell and Seifer banter - I like it!

I love this banter. And Squall's maladjusted knobs.

'Empire sends forth from a creeping root. Shoots strings at every joint, as it runs, stalks, branches. Until the confronting tangle might present, through distance or difference, a plant entirely other than the last.'

Scant starlight picked out the cockpit's sharper details. Fran spoke with a weary irritation that colored her closer than daylight.

Balthier was just as tired. But it was his nature to provoke.

'It is another sort. Distinctly, I thought. Archadian Empire behind us. Rozarrian Empire before us. A rather different lot of bush, in my expert topiarist 's opinion.'

Fran looked at him scornfully. 'Another sort, nothing different from the former. Only the flowers are a different colour.'

They resumed contemplation of their difficult position. Silver caught on the fluttering flags of countless circling airships, which could have, at a stretch, resembled a scattering of flowers.

'Shall I pluck you a bloom?'

'Better not. A rather lethal blossom, Empire, whatever the colour. Purges a land very violently, when taken inwardly.'

'Still. One might suggest the distillation useful for ridding one of cultural conflict, ex-girlfriends and overpopulation.'

'Temporary measures only,' Fran muttered. 'Poor application leaves foul scars. Needs an abler hand to correct it than most poor skypirates have.'

He saluted, with less irony than he had intended. 'Point duly noted. So, let's grease our way past this second unlikely thicket, shall we?'

Balthier let the Maenad idle in her low strata of sky while he contemplated solutions, of which there appeared to be one.

'Bastards,' he said.

Having formulated a strike plan, Leo was feeling a lot better about how he was going to handle things. Despite the somewhat unpredictable nature of the house, he had always been a meticulous man, and having some sort of routine made everything easier. Strategy was what he did best, a habit ingrained into him by years of military service. If years of warfare couldn’t stop him, he wasn’t about to let a quirky old house get the better of him.

Waging war on dust, yay? *chuckles*

Housework wars are the best kind!

I am intrigued.

In a Leo vs. dust battle, my money's on Leo.

    Laguna looked quizzically at Squall. "I didn't think you had a dog, Squall," he said, scratching his head. He crouched down and held his hand out. "Here, girl!"

    Squall unobtrusively knocked Seifer off-balance before he tried to bite Laguna's face off. "He's not a girl," he pointed out.

    Laguna peered closer and Seifer twitched, obviously fighting the urge to shift his forelegs and block the view. "Hey, so he isn't! Sorry, boy, didn't mean to impugne your, er, doghood." He looked up at Squall. "Where did you get him, anyway? I don't recognise the breed and you didn't have a dog before."

    "It's a wolf--" Seifer accidentally-on-purpose stepped on Squall's foot. Not that it hurt, but it was the thought that counted. "--hound," Squall finished. "He and I kinda . . . fell in with each other. After the War."

    Laguna stood up and dusted himself off. "Are you sure you should be taking in strays?" he asked doubtfully. "I mean, maybe someone's missing this guy!"

    "I'm taking him back to his owners." An obvious lie, but, sometimes, Laguna couldn't see obvious if it took off its clothes and danced around naked.

    Laguna brightened. "That's great, Squall!" He frowned. "But how did you know? I don't see a collar on him. Really, Squall, whether or not he's your pet, you should really put a collar on him or someone will think he's a stray. I mean, a stray not on his way home. And you might want to talk to his owners about either neutering him or making sure he can't run away; the guy's probably sired half a dozen little wolfhound puppies already."

    "The Crystal Pillar," Squall said somewhat desperately. Anything to change the topic of conversation before Seifer tried to kill the President of Esthar or, worse yet, Squall helped him. Selphie would never let him hear the end of it.

    Laguna blinked. "Huh? Right! See, I was thinking--"

Haha I love this already! I like the concept, and you've got Laguna in there, too =D

Hee!

Fujin found her that way, sitting in the grass, her back against the stone wall of the pub. She was hiding, and Fujin could easily see that. She saw everything else, after all.

To her credit, she didn't say anything, just slid down and sat beside Ellone, but when she held out one of her arms, Ellone fell into her, twisting around to bury her face against Fujin's shoulder. She couldn't stop hiccuping, couldn't stop herself from crying. Fujin patted her shoulder, then made a soft noise and wrapped her arms around Ellone, holding her close. Ellone melted into the embrace, needing it more than she cared to admit.

She was the strong one. She was the one who had been chased her entire life by evil and still found ways to smile, who held her White SeeDs as they broke down (eventually, they each had) because how could they protect her against someone wearing the face of the woman they all loved? But this time, she couldn't shoulder her burden alone. She didn't know how.

“H-he,” she swallowed, knowing that her voice was muffled against Fujin's shoulder and not caring, “he kissed me, Fujin. I … I didn't know what to do.” She eased back and reached a hand up to wipe her eyes. Fujin offered her the end of Ellone's own green scarf and, with a shaky smile, Ellone took it and dried her eyes.

“Return?” Fujin tilted her head, and Ellone wrapped the scarf around her hand, clutching it.

“I don't know,” she whispered as she stared at the grass. She couldn't even seem to think anymore around him. Fujin touched the side of her face, and Ellone glanced up at her. Without warning, Fujin leaned in, touched their lips together. Ellone's eyes widened, and Fujin's hand slid around to the back of her neck, keeping her there.

It was sweet, gentle, and entirely unlike the kiss she had shared with Seifer. Even then, by the time Fujin drew back, Ellone was trembling, reaching up to touch her lips hesitantly.

“Like his?”

Understanding dawned on her, and Ellone flushed darkly. “No, Fu. Not like his.”

With that, Fujin stood, dusted herself off, and held out a hand to Ellone. One silver eyebrow arched, and she offered a very small grin. “Answer,” she said, matter-of-factly, as she helped Ellone to her feet. Ellone supposed she was right; she did have her answer.

Oh my gosh, I wasn't expecting Fujin/Ellone (never even thought of it). This is just lovely.

Well, technically, it's an Ellone/Seifer piece, but I must admit that it has made me seriously consider Fujin/Ellone. I will have to write that one too. XD

Kadulu looks at her and, through his mask, Fran sees the heavy disappointment in his eyes. “It is on matters such as these, that the Garif and the viera disagree most.”

“They are not monsters, are they?” she says, more to herself than the assembly of garif.

Too fast, the world changes too fast, or mayhap it is she who changes with such celerity. To go from blind love of the Goddess and all Her teachings… to doubt.

“They are not,” Kadulu tells her firmly. “And in our Village, killing hume refugees is a crime. One even the gods might hesitate to forgive.”

Her eyes snap wide open. “Gods?”

“Aye. There are many gods, many more than just the Goddess of this Jungle. Oftentimes, they are more benevolent than She.”

Daughter, pay this Garif no mind. He fills your head with lies.

Fran looks at him and shakes her head and flicks off the remnants of her Mother’s voice. “Then they are not godless,” she says, voice soft, “And there is more outside Her boughs than just violence and fear…”

Placing a heavy hand on her shoulder, Kadulu says voice thick with unveiled regret, “From birth, the Garif know sorrow for their caged vieran sisters.”

Ooh, this interests me.

The baby finished nursing, and Jihan began singing a song to her son in a language Rikku didn't know. She thought to herself that it must be the Ronso tongue. She had heard a bit of it when they had visited the Ronso homeland on Yuna's pilgrimage. The song's tune was simple, the tone rising and falling gently.

"What does it mean?" she asked curiously when Jihan finished.

"In the snow we hide in comfort, in the snow we live with pride, sleep in safety, child, and be blessed." Jihan looked up. "It used to say 'Yevon blessed,' but now, after everything, most people don't sing it that way."

"It's still beautiful," said Rikku. "Though as an Al Bhed it's hard for me to see snow as comforting the way you do. When I visited Mt. Gagazet I was so cold!"

I especially like the bit about the language changing as people learn the truth about Yevon! It's always really interesting to me to think about how Yevon is worked into the fabric of Spira in ways large and small, and what the fallout of the truth would be.

Thank you! I can't imagine what that would be like -- not one person or even a small group losing their own internal faith but entire cultures getting proof that what they believed was entirely wrong.

It's more the background of my story than the foreground, but it definitely intrigues me too.

"..You've got the tools, right?"

Balthier patted his vest. Of course he would insist to be the one to do the actual kidnapping. The self-styled leading man would never let someone else rescue the damsel. "I never leave the Strahl without them. I find they almost always have a purpose."

"Rikku's windows are barred, so you'll have to undo those. They're same construction that you'd see on a Bhujerban jail."

"Oh, and when were you in a Bhujerban jail?" Fran asked.

"That would be a story for later." Really, could we not go into those embarrassing little details of the distant past, when we had a kidnapping plan to execute?

"Anyway, that sounds like some serious protection for Daddy's Little Girl," Balthier observed.

I shrugged. It wasn't like Balthier was unfamiliar with the idea of daddy issues himself. "They are having something of an ideological disagreement right now. Rikku just happens to be right."

"I see. Well, our business is with the coin alone. As long as that promise is genuine, we've got business."

End.

What? You asked what I was most proud of. >.> Besides, it's more FF13 rarepair, so I shan't foist it on anyone. XD

Taking me literally, eh? ;)

You should be proud of finishing, though! Especially since you wrote two totally different stories on a similar theme in such quick succession. I can imagine it would be hard to keep the second one feeling fresh.

Ahahaha, finishing is my main accomplishment. XD Neither fic is my best work, and I knew from the moment I came up with my crackpair I was writing for an audience of one (me XD), but finishing was a big deal to me. I usually back out of projects and quit, so this is the first time I juggled three big writing challenges and did them all. I think I had to riff on the same theme, because my brain wouldn't shift gears in such a short time!

Her hair fell limp and heavy over shoulders no longer protected by fur. When Terra opened her eyes, she couldn't pull them away from the hundreds of lines crisscrossing her bald palm, which had turned the color of peach flesh. Her fingers ended under blunt, rounded nails.

"I'm like Ramuh," she said, patting her face with the hand that was not fascinating her.

Edgar cleared his throat. "I can't imagine anyone mistaking you."

White fabric interrupted her vision. "You need clothing," Celes said crisply, pulling her cape around Terra's torso. She sighed when Terra wriggled free to examine her absurd little feet.

Ooh, I'm really looking forward to this.

(And I am also panicking...)

Thanks! :D

(Join me in CLUB PANIC. Go, fingers, go!)

"No chaperone?"

Ashe laughed, mildly. "Recall that I am a widowed woman of, by some definitions, advancing age. My virtue is no longer at issue; in truth, my advisors are so eager for me to remarry that I suspect they might turn a blind eye to my dallying with nearly anyone, provided he were an eligible bachelor with a suitable pedigree."

Al-Cid allowed himself a step closer, mindful of her earlier rejection. "And does this state of affairs suit you, my lady?"

She slid sideways, facing him direct with a wry smile. The moonlight caught her fair hair and wrapped her face in a ghostly cloud. "At times. Too often, they cluck over me like a clutch of mother hens. In comparison, even the illusion of freedom is welcome."

"Perhaps it needn't be illusory." Al-Cid stepped closer, daring to catch her hand. Ashe raised an eyebrow, but she did not pull away. "If no one is watching, surely you are free to do as you will." Her hand was soft, as he had imagined, but he felt the slight ridge of a hilt-callous along her palm. The evidence of her years as a warrior both intrigued and excited him, and he ran the edge of his thumb along it, tracing the line from the base of her ring finger to her wrist. He could hear her intake of breath, feel her fingers convulse around his hand at the intimate touch, and he drew her in closer. She tilted her head back and sideways -- simply to look at him, or to better judge his intentions? He leaned in a breath closer. "May I--"

Before he could even finish his sentence, her hand was around his neck, and she was tugging him downward for a kiss.

Snippet Time!

I am positive that the tense in this will change about 97364572 times before it's done.

Re: I am positive that the tense in this will change about 97364572 times before it's done.

Re: I am positive that the tense in this will change about 97364572 times before it's done.

Re: I am positive that the tense in this will change about 97364572 times before it's done.

arrrrrrrrrrrghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

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Little long, but reads funny if cut any shorter. XD

Re: Little long, but reads funny if cut any shorter. XD

Re: Little long, but reads funny if cut any shorter. XD

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PANIC PANIC PANIC

Re: PANIC PANIC PANIC

Re: PANIC PANIC PANIC

23,000 words, and still. no. ending.