magnificat anima mea pacem

fic: Resonance [EXE, PG]

2009-04-19T22:51:07Z

F-ficpost. Wow.
Resonance (or, How Netto Found Out) - Rockman.exe futurefic, PG, Blues/Rockman. Crossposted to ff.net, yes really, shut up. aaaah why do I do these things to myself

Resonance

"Rockman? Rockman!" Netto's indignant voice snapped him out of what had been a very nice daydream. "Rockman, wake up!"

"Ah! I'm awake, I'm awake, Netto-kun!" Rockman rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, trying not to blush too obviously. Usually Netto's programming classes were quite interesting, and he tried to pay attention, but all day he'd been unable to keep himself from zoning out, drifting off into blissful memories of the previous night.

"Could have fooled me," Netto muttered, eyeing him suspiciously. "You're not usually this out of it, Nii-san. And why do you have that goofy smile on your face?"

Rockman, who hadn't been aware that he was smiling at all, blushed and looked down at his hands. "Um, I do?" Thankfully, he was saved from further explanations by the chime of an incoming email; blinking himself back to business, he scanned the file.

"It's from Meijin-san," he opened the email for Netto to view. "He wants us to stop by HQ…"

"Alright!" Netto punched the air, thoroughly distracted from personal matters for the moment. Rockman sighed to himself in relief; it wasn't that he didn't want to share his news with his twin, but they were still in the school building, surrounded by people – and, he privately admitted, he wanted to keep this his for just a little while longer.

"Do you think it's a mission?" Netto asked excitedly, cramming his laptop into his backpack and unplugging the PET from his desk with a yank that made Rockman wince for the hardware.

"It's not marked Urgent, Netto-kun. It might just be paperwork – that report you submitted last week was kind of sloppy, you know."

"It was fine!" Netto slid the PET into its holder, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and left the room at a brisk jog, waving to friends that he passed in the hall. "All the important details were in there – and besides, I had that stupid project for History! So I didn't have time to mess about with it, big deal."

"That's why I told you to start the project earlier, Netto-kun." Rockman shook his head, sadly accustomed to his Operator's procrastination habit.

"Don't start that again!" Netto protested, shouldering through the main doors and out into the weak autumn sunlight. "C'mon, let's get a move on – if it is a mission, they'll need us."

"Okay. Do you want me to go on ahead?" Rockman asked, absently going over their chipset files and wondering which box Netto had packed that morning. There was a point when the advantage of always having all your battle chips available was outweighed by the sheer size of your collection. Not to mention that Netto was a bit of a packrat and could never be persuaded to part with anything, however useless – he said it was because they'd worked hard for their chips, but Rockman thought he was just being sentimental. Whichever way you looked at it, though, it was easier on them both to use a single case at a time, so they'd spent quite a bit of time working out the best combinations for various situations.

"Meijin-san's email doesn't sound like an emergency." Netto heaved a sigh, shrugging one shoulder. "Probably is paperwork. Ugh…"

Rockman smiled, shaking his head in sympathy as he tapped into the transport information system, scanning for the quickest route. "Netto-kun, quick; there's a bus coming!" Sure enough, as Netto cursed and bounced into a sprint towards the bus stop, a number 3 bus came into view around the corner.

"Thanks, Nii-san," Netto murmured as he joined the back of the queue, tapping the PET casing gently. Rockman smiled to himself, giving in to temptation and sending off a small, happy email to Blues' private inbox. He'd said Enzan-san's schedule was busy today, so Rockman knew they wouldn't be meeting at HQ, but he couldn't help wanting to share. Unlike humans and their subjective experiences, Navi perception of time was ruled by their internal clocks. He'd never imagined that a few hours could seem so long, but last night had changed a lot of things.

Last night had felt like forever. Rockman hummed contentedly, poking at Netto's schedule for the rest of the week and absently tallying it up with what he knew of Enzan's. Even if no missions came up, they were bound to see each other during patrol shifts, and Netto had been known to lie in wait for Enzan-san at HQ when they hadn't had a good battle for a while. Fighting Blues now – even just sparring – was an interesting proposition. Blues certainly wouldn't go easy on him just because...

Nii-san? Netto prodded him mentally, a flicker of curiosity threaded through his 'voice'. Rockman started guiltily, hastily pushing all thoughts of last night to the back of his mind along with the rest of his private things. Over the years, he and Netto had worked out a sort of ettiquette for their link, and unspoken understanding that what was kept private was not to be pried into.

Netto-kun? Rockman asked from his side of the link, patiently ignoring that niggle of curiosity he could feel from his Operator. What is it? They didn't often talk this way, after all, unless there was some reason not to be overheard.

You were humming, Netto pointed out. What's up?

Oops. Ah, I was just wondering when we'd get the chance to battle Enzan-san and Blues again, he replied, perfectly truthfully and even managing not to stumble over Blues' name. He wouldn't – couldn't – lie to Netto, but the full truth wasn't something he was ready to get into yet. Not to mention the unwanted data that might accidentally spill over the link... Flushing, Rockman sought to distract himself, tapping into the city's wireless network to check on virus activity before they arrived at HQ.

Unfortunately, he found some – it was obvious from the pixelation on the horizon and the streams of bad data jetting skywards that something was tearing up the network a few blocks ahead. Which, Rockman realised after cross-referencing with his map database, was only a few hundred metres from HQ itself.

Netto-kun! He backed out of the network, automatically booting up his pre-battle diagnostic and backup programs. All systems were running at one hundred percent. There's a virus causing trouble – get off at the next stop!

Got it! Netto grabbed the PET out of its holster, his other hand fumbling for his chip case. He leapt off the bus before the doors were even completely open, halting in the middle of an open public square and peering around. "This is the local government buildings – it is a virus or a rogue Navi, Rockman?"

"Virus," Rockman reported shortly. And indeed, as he spoke the fountain in the centre of the square, which had been calmly bubbling away to itself, suddenly released a violent jet of steam, startling people and scattering pigeons. The next moment, there were screams from within the government buildings and the crash of heavy furniture or machinery toppling. "Looks like it's unguided – plug me in, Netto-kun; the wireless won't stand up to much more of this."

"Okay!" Netto had been looking about for a port, and found one on the main gate panel. "Let's go – transmission!"

The first thing he saw on entering the network was the virus – an ugly grey lumbering thing with huge beast-like fists and a wickedly spiked tail. The second thing was the damage it was doing – trampling through files that should have been secure, leaving destruction and corrupted data in its wake. Bracing himself, Rockman took aim with his standard buster and fired off a few shots, enough to distract the virus from its depredations and turn its attention on him.

"Wow, nasty-looking," Netto-kun commented cheerfully. "Let's see how it likes this – Program Advance!" Rockman grinned in anticipation, accepting the three Sword chips as Netto fed them into the PET. "Dream Sword!"

For reasons that he'd never understood, he always felt faster, smarter, stronger in Advanced Program mode. Blues said it was just confidence. Rockman leapt, aiming a slash at the virus' unprotected back and then going for its throat when it reared up. Corrupted data fizzled and hissed from the wounds he opened, and the virus roared in anger, clawing the ground and swinging its spiked tail around. Rockman somersaulted out of the way, giving Netto time to slot in the next chip.

"Cannon!" Rockman tried a few shots, but they glanced harmlessly off the scales covering the virus' back.

"Netto-kun, this isn't working!"

"I can see that!" Netto yelled back, flicking quickly through his chips as Rockman dodged the virus' attack, aiming a few shots at its underbelly as he rolled underneath it. "Here, this'll help – battle chip: Blues Soul, slot in!"

Rockman barely had time to think Wait a second... before everything went fantastically, spectacularly wrong. Blues' data from the chip fed into his systems like any other upload, but instead of combining with his battle protocols to enhance his speed, abilities and armour, it flooded his entire being in a rush, paralysing him with memory.

Stumbling to his knees, Rockman gasped helplessly, for a few brief moments feeling every bit as surrounded by and one with Blues as he'd been last night. His systems went haywire; he cried out, shaking with tremors and tingling all over, completely caught up in whatever was happening to him.

"Rockman! Rockman!" Netto's terrified voice brought him out of the paralysis; he looked up just as the virus took advantage of his collapse and leapt.

There wasn't time to move, or even defend himself. Over a split second, even as Netto yanked out the chip and his systems began to stabilise, Rockman acknowledged and resigned himself to the fact that he was at the very least going to get pretty seriously mauled.

He wasn't expecting the flash of red and silver that exploded out of nowhere, hitting the virus mid-leap and slashing right through it in a single clean motion. For several moments as the shower of pixels cleared, Rockman just sat there, where he'd fallen, staring at his unanticipated (but not at all unwelcome) saviour and and wondering whether that had really happened.

"Blues?" Netto's astonished, relieved voice broke the spell, finally. Blushing furiously, Rockman wondered how he was going to explain this; the Navi in question just inclined his head in silent acknowledgement, sauntering over to offer Rockman his hand. Rockman stared up at him for a moment, wishing not for the first time that he could see through the visor, before taking it. Blues' fingers closed warm and solid around his, every bit as comforting and caring as an embrace, and he didn't immediately let go once Rockman had got to his feet. Which, really, was perfectly fine with Rockman.

"Are you all right?" Blues asked in a low voice, ignoring Netto's increasingly strident demands for information. Rockman nodded shyly, feeling like his face was on fire. Blues' thumb stroked over the back of his hand once, then he nodded and turned away, no doubt to return to Enzan's side. Rockman watched him go for a long moment, wondering whether he'd imagined that brief flicker of a smile, before turning his own attention back to Netto.

A very unhappy Netto, who was glaring down at the PET like it had personally offended him. "What," Rockman's brother and Operator demanded, with accompanying gestures, "was that?"

Oh dear. Rockman sighed.

"Resonance?" Netto looked back and forth between Rockman and the diagnostic he'd insisted on running. Rockman had managed to persuade him to wait until they were at HQ for his explanation; unfortunately, whatever work Meijin-san had had in mind for them seemed to have been superceded by the virus attack. "I don't get it. We've used that chip loads of times, even when we've worked with Enzan and Blues..."

"Um." Rockman fidgeted uncomfortably. "It has to do with – well, last night – um. Y-you see – Blues and I, well, we... um," he faltered, examining the backs of his gloved hands.

"Spit it out, Nii-san," Netto complained, looking just as confused as ever. Rockman squirmed.

"Well – some things happened -" He let me see who he really is. I kissed him. He kissed me back. "-and it turns out that we both l-like each other -" I knew I loved him, but to find out it was returned... "- and, well, things, um, sort of... progressed from there..." He trailed off again, smiling helplessly despite the furious heat in his face, lost in blissful memory.

"...You and Blues." Netto started after several long moments, sounding more than slightly incredulous. "You and Blues got together, finally, and you didn't tell me?"

"I was going to!" Rockman protested, hurt. "It just – there wasn't time!" He blinked, processing. "...what do you mean, finally?"

Netto rolled his eyes, grinning. "Nii-san, you had such a crush on him. It was obvious." He frowned suddenly, ignoring Rockman's embarrassed squeak. "That doesn't explain the whole, what did you call it, resonance thing, though."

"...um." Rockman studied the top of the screen, wondering how Netto could be so perceptive about some things and so oblivious about others. "That – well, if you hadn't slept in again this morning, Netto-kun, it wouldn't have been a problem!"

"Huh?" Netto blinked at him, and Rockman blushed further.

"I didn't get a chance to do system maintenance this morning, so the data from the chip resonated with cache data and caused, well, that." No doubt he'd have to thank Blues for the rescue, once he found out why Blues had been there in the first place. He couldn't have felt the effects of the resonance, could he? Netto hadn't seemed to...

"Oh." Netto frowned again. "But why do you have Blues' data in ca – oh. Oh." Rockman could feel the embarrassed comprehension filtering through the link as Netto turned scarlet. "Nii-san!"

Rockman crossed his arms defensively over his chest, studiously avoiding Netto's eyes. "Well," Netto proclaimed eventually, scratching the back of his head awkwardly but with genuine warmth in his voice. "I guess that explains why you've been spacing out all day with that goofy smile on your face, huh."

Rockman couldn't help but smile back at his twin, resting one hand on his side of the screen.

"Although -" Netto frowned mightily for a moment, then groaned, falling back in his chair and covering his eyes with an arm. "Oh, man. Now what the hell am I supposed to say to Enzan?!"

Fic: [07-Ghost] Left Unsaid

2008-11-18T00:30:06Z

F-ficpost dear god what.

Title: Left Unsaid
Series: 07-Ghost
Rating/Warnings: Fluff. PG at most.
Pairings/Characters: Teito/Mikage-ish, extra bonus babydragon.
Notes: In dreams...

Left Unsaid

"Dragons do not dream as humans do. To a telepathic creature, that loosening of the conscious mind's strictures which comes with dreams is anathema, potentially disastrous. Theirs is a protective evolution, to shut down the mind entirely in sleep, lest wayward dreams tap into even their latent psychic potential. Thus, dragons do not dream."
~Professor Murray Hall-Oak, Draconic Habits and Habitats.

Teito dreams in the familiar muted grey tones of the Military Academy. These are not uncommon or unpleasant dreams, though others might call them nightmares and he often wakes from them with an ache in his chest and tears forming in his eyes. Teito has another perspective on nightmare, and vastly prefers awakening to the memory of loss to the truly bad dreams where he relives Mikage's death in slow and painful detail.

This time, though, he knows he's dreaming, and he feels a twinge of fear as he looks around their old room – tiny, grey-painted and not a little shabby – from beneath lowered eyelids. Above all, he doesn't want to see Mikage's sad and reproachful face, and that's how he knows this a dream.

Teito watches his hands, carefully bandaging up Mikage's arm, and doesn't dare look up. He can't help it, though; it's like he's a passenger in his own body, watching this memory play out.

"If you ever get into trouble on the battlefield, I'll never abandon you!" and Teito wants to cry out, to tell Mikage no and stop this promise that will claim his life, but his own mouth is without his control.

"I swear by the name of God that we'll die together!" and surely the innocent joy on his face belongs to someone else, someone who hasn't already lived to break this vow.

Perhaps something finally shows, because Mikage's face changes, softening in something like sympathy, and he lifts a bandaged hand to push a strand of hair back from Teito's eyes. Teito blinks stupidly, because he doesn't remember this, and it's not like he hasn't lived this memory over a hundred times. But then Mikage is gone, and there is only Capella muttering in his sleep and Teito staring up at the roof of the tent, left with the fading memory of a touch that never happened.

Teito is warm. Burupya chirrups his satisfaction to the world and burrows his way inside Teito's scarf, curling into the join of his neck and shoulder. Teito has been somewhere today, doing something that dragonlings evidently can't do, and so Burupya has been dividing his time between sitting on the tall one's head and playing with the little human nestling. While the nestling is good for cuddles and jumping through leaf-piles, and the tall one makes an excellent launching post when he wants to try his wings, neither them are Teito. Burupya purrs as Teito nuzzles the side of his face into his fur, one hand gently petting his wings. Teito is his, Burupya feels it in the same place where he feels Teito's sadnesses, has known it since he first felt that sadness, strong enough to pull him from the safety of his nest. When he tries to remember a time before Teito, he can't.

The worst of the dreams is the one where he's back in the dead space of the examination, staring helplessly as Ayanami's cold and merciless eyes turn inevitably into his own, twisted and bright with cruelty. It all plays out with hideous clarity; he is frozen with despair, beginning to falter, and then Mikage's strong arms come around him. It's one of his most precious memories, only this time Mikage's hands are cold and his voice is empty and accusing, blaming Teito for everything, dragging him down.

It's Burupya who pulls him out of the dream-pit of pain and guilt, by dint of increasingly violent head-butting until Teito flails awake, sobbing spasmodically. And it's Burupya who comforts him, nuzzling close and purring as loudly as he can, ignoring the tears soaking through fur and feathers as he tells Teito without words that it's okay. He's here.

Burupya dreams. Sometimes this confuses him, because in his dreams he walks on two feet, but what is a confusing half-memory when awake is entirely natural in dreams.

Burupya dreams of Teito. Teito stalking the Acadamy halls with the hunched shoulders and forbidding scowl he uses to ward off unwanted attention. Teito in chains, drawn with desperation as he's forced to escape alone. Teito wracked with pain and despair as he realises this is goodbye. (These are the dreams which make Burupya shiver in his sleep, calming only at the touch of a gentle hand smoothing his wings.)

Most often, though, Burupya dreams of Teito's rare, rare smile, all the warmer for being unexpected, and of the heat of a promise that had defied death and changed the world.

Teito dreams that he is sitting on Mikage's bunk at the Academy (Mikage had triumphantly claimed the top one on the first day, only to immediately offer it to Teito anyway), with Mikage's hand warm in his. It's all familiar, too familiar, until Teito winces at the naivete of the vow they'd sworn, and Mikage lifts a hand to brush hair out of Teito's eyes, fingers lingering over his cheekbone in a way that might make him blush if this weren't so obviously a dream.

"You don't regret it, right, Teito?"

"What are you saying?" Teito protests, trying to turn away, but Mikage's palm cradles his cheek and he really does blush now, dream or no dream. Mikage's eyes are very blue. "Y-you died, and it was my fault – I –"

"Idiot." Mikage's smile is painfully sweet, and Teito feels his heartbeat stutter in his chest. "I would have saved you either way! But I swore I'd look out for you forever, and I meant it, Teito."

Burupya is under the bed, stalking a particularly persistent dust bunny, when Teito cries out in his sleep and starts thrashing hard enough that the bedframe creaks. Burupya chirrups in dismay, bolting for the dim glow of the nightlight and shaking himself free of dust with a tiny feather-ruffling sneeze before intrepidly scaling the blankets to reach Teito's side.

Even a nestling's unpractised empathic talents could feel the fear and guilt and and self-loathing pouring off the huddled form in the bed. Burupya whines unhappily, unsure whether Teito is even awake, but hops up onto his chest anyway, curling up into a fuzzy ball over his heart and trying to consciously project love and affection at Teito. Humans might be stuff-headed and difficult to talk to, but his Teito isn't allowed to feel sad or have bad dreams, not while Burupya is around to chase them off.

By the time Frau, reluctantly roused by the noise, comes to check on the kid, Teito is sleeping peacefully with a slight smile on his face and a purring dragonling cradled in his arms.

Teito has decided that he likes this dream, even if the memory never actually happened. Happy dreams of Mikage, even if he wakes missing him worse than ever, are worth the pain. Mikage's smile has always been worth anything, though at first he hadn't understood. Mikage had been the one to show him that laughter could be shared, and didn't have to be at anyone's expense.

"I swore I'd stay with you forever," Mikage says with his hand cradling the side of Teito's face, and Teito can only stare, furiously flushed and knowing it as the teasing lilt in Mikage's voice is underlaid by something deeper and more meaningful. "Do you regret that?"

"Why shouldn't I, when it got you killed?!" Teito flares, starting to pull away, but he's silenced by Mikage's thumb brushing over his lips.

"Well, I don't. Regret it." Mikage smiles, pure and bright and just for him, and suddenly Teito can barely breathe. "If you're gonna regret something, make it something worth regretting -" and then Mikage leans in, still with that heartbreaking smile, and kisses him, just once, on the lips. A single warm and startled moment, and Teito is still clumsily trying to respond when he wakes with a start, the dream vanishing like smoke.

Curled up on his chest, Burupya sleepily protests the disruption, burrowing his head under Teito's hand. Teito blinks into the darkness and stretches still-tingling lips in a tiny, tentative smile.

"These things alone do I now regret: things left unsaid."
~Sandman vol. 10

Fic: Hikari [Kingdom Hearts/FFVII, R, WIP]

2007-12-29T22:14:47Z

WIP amnesty time~

This is the first 6000-odd words of what was intended to be a Cloud-centric Kingdom Hearts fic, bridging KH1 and 2 and focusing significantly on Cloud/Sephiroth, with added bonus Zack/Aeris, Zack/Cloud/Aeris, etc. May never be finished, at this point. R-rated. Ish.

Hikari

In the end, he realised afterwards, it had all been pointless. All that searching, the contract with Hades that he'd gone on to break, the sickly fleeting power it had given him – all that, and he'd known what was coming before Sephiroth had even arrived. It was the taste in the air, darkness and flame and anticipation just as it had been on the night so many years ago when everything had begun.

When everything had ended. Cloud closed his eyes briefly, nodding to himself, then pushed himself to his feet, ignoring Hercules' curious stare and Phil's increasingly strident questions. It was time to finish it, for good.

The coliseum was dark and empty, both Sora and the crowds long gone, and the evening's torches were burning low as he walked out into the arena, sword in hand. There was no one visible, and no sound but his boots crunching on sand, but he could feel himself watched.

The slow zigzag of a single falling feather was almost hypnotic. Cloud breathed in slowly, metal claws twitching slightly as he stared straight ahead, waiting.

The sight of Sephiroth, settling gracefully to earth before him, made things ache and twist that Cloud had no names for. He looked exactly as he had that night – smirking, avid, the black feathers spread iridescent behind one shoulder marking him as lost to humanity. Nothing at all had changed, and it was both painful and strangely relieving.

"I finally found you," he murmured, almost to himself. It only made Sephiroth's smirk widen.

"I was looking for you, too." A lie – Cloud narrowed his eyes, flesh fingers tightening around his sword hilt.

"I have to get rid of you to end this," he spat out, ignoring the grating of the metal claws. "You're my darkness."

"Then give in to the darkness." Sephiroth spread his arms wide, eyes compelling and bright green in the shadow of his hair. "Fall, and abandon the last of the light."

"Shut up." Settling himself into a fighting stance, Cloud watched the telltale flex of Sephiroth's wing and tried to ignore the burning itch behind his own left shoulderblade. If it happened, as it always did with the darkness this thick and bitter around him, it would be yet another mark left on him, yet another similarity that could only be erased by ending this.

When he leapt, streaking forward in a crackle of energy, Sephiroth was there to meet him. The clash of blades echoed across the empty arena, repeated and repeated as Cloud swung again and again, letting the weight of his sword carry him as he tried to find a way through Sephiroth's defences. Masamune bit sparks from his buster sword that spun and fizzed through the air, and the emergence of the dark wing through the ripping skin of his back felt distant, removed. There was only Sephiroth, here in front of him at last, and the vicious dance they moved in.

The world around him was a blur, tumbling as he twisted in the air, following his sword into blow after blow that clashed and slid with Masamune. He could hear Sephiroth laughing softly – Cloud set his jaw, refusing to be provoked into recklessness. Eight years; more than he could ever throw away.

Memory pulled at him, and he knocked aside a twisting slash, eyes refocusing as Sephiroth recoiled snakelike only to attack again. He might no longer be fourteen, but he would never be as tall or as quick or as strong as this man he had idolised. Cloud grimaced in distaste, shaking off the clutches of remembrance and glaring his death full in the face. He didn't need to be stronger, only strong enough.

Strong enough to knock Masamune up and aside, throwing his whole weight into a blow that he knew would be numbing. Sephiroth faltered, falling back in mid-air, and Cloud seized his chance, nothing left in him to wonder why there was no joy or even satisfaction in this moment. Three strikes, just fast enough to pull Sephiroth further off balance, and then twist and…

An instant became another, which stretched itself into an agonising eternity. Cloud swallowed, firmed his grip on the hilt of his sword, and tensed himself, again, for the final blow. Sephiroth was simply floating there, disarmed and already beaten, and…

He couldn't do it. His muscles wouldn't move, he couldn't force his arms to swing the blade. He couldn't do it. And Sephiroth had regained his balance and was hovering, waiting for him with knowing eyes. The sword was in his hands, and he couldn't do it.

"Can you kill me, Cloud?" Sephiroth smiled like a snake, sliding closer. "Or will you pay the forfeit?"

Cloud tilted his head back, letting his sword slip from nerveless fingers with something almost like gratitude. He'd already paid the price, after all; eight years over, and if it was going to end now… Well, he'd been looking for an end. He closed his eyes, waiting for the final strike.

Waiting, finally, so long that his skin began to prickle with Sephiroth's presence; his eyes snapped open as clawed hands settled on his waist.

"Well, Cloud?" Sephiroth's face hovered inches above his, perfect mouth twisted into an anticipatory smirk. Cloud could feel his mouth go dry – could feel the leashed heat and power of Sephiroth's body, so close. There was nothing he could call wrong, none of the monstrous coldness his mind had conjured. Only the man he had idolised, long ago, before love had turned to hate and eaten everything.

A beat, his heart suddenly racing faster even than the battle, and Sephiroth's wingtip brushed his, feathers startlingly soft against the leathery skin. Cloud shivered, swallowed, and stared helplessly as Sephiroth's smile turned catlike. It was the superiority, he told himself desperately afterwards; that, and the expression that seemed to know all his darkest secrets.

Even this. Cloud groaned in the back of his throat, reaching up to grab at the open collar of Sephiroth's coat and yank him clumsily down. Sephiroth purred against his mouth, taking effortless control of the kiss as his hands slid hot around Cloud's back, fitting their bodies together. Cloud let his eyes fall shut, feeling the boiling displacement of air and darkness around them as they shifted somewhere, and didn't protest when he was pushed down onto a yielding surface. His wing had vanished again, of its own accord, though Sephiroth's feathers were brushing down his left side. It was easier, with his eyes closed, to pretend this wasn't happening and simply let his body do as it wanted.

His mantle was gone, and his armour, and his own hands were tugging at the leather of Sephiroth's coat, blind and clumsy. The touch of leather gloves on his skin made him shudder, and he squinted his eyes closed tighter, forcing the too-familiar image of Sephiroth's smirk out of his mind. His fingers dug into Sephiroth's back, metal claws piercing skin, and he heard a hiss of indrawn breath, felt a faint hint of satisfaction that left him in a rush as Sephiroth set sharp teeth into the hollow of his shoulder.

Sephiroth's gloves had vanished somewhere too, and Cloud gasped as unsheathed claws trailed sharp and prickling down his chest and abdomen. Fingers under the waistband of his pants, wrapping around him with the threat of claws still there, and he could do nothing but arch into the sensation, his own hands clutching at Sephiroth's shoulders as he screwed his eyes shut. He would not see this.

A moment of stillness, and then… Cloud choked, jerking half upright as his eyes flew open, the illusion of control shattered as Sephiroth licked at him again, slick-hot-slow tongue and smirking lips and hungry, avid eyes that locked with his and refused to let him go. Refused to let him deny that this was happening, was real.

Perfectly, unrelentingly real.

It is there, standing guard at the entrance to Naught's Skyway with a number of its brethren, when He returns, pacing meditatively past their doubled forms. On His way, it thinks, to Proof of Existence, or perhaps the tower high above. Two Sorcerers float behind Him in incorporeal form, ripples in the air that acknowledge the presence of the Samurai guard.

It is there, too, an indefinable time later when the Eighth passes by in company with one it does not know – one with the appearance and garb of a human boy, face like a blank canvas. The Samurai bow, and the Eighth flicks his fingers in their direction, passing them with a soundless tread as he speaks to the new one.

"-the boss likes to give stuff pretentious names, don't ask me why. That one just now was the Hall of Empty Melodies; got it memorised?"

The new one doesn't answer him, staring curiously at the Samurai. It stares back, unable to remember why that shade of spiky blond hair, those blue eyes should mean anything. It has nothing left of its previous life, and does not understand the sudden certainty that there should be memory there.

It is one of the first to encounter its new master, though it does not receive the news until it is gathered with all its brethren in the Hall of Empty Melodies, listening to the darkness shiver around it with His words. The new one is presented as Roxas, the Key of Destiny, though they will never know him as anything but the Thirteenth, their liege and master.

It is also, by chance, one of the first to fight alongside its new master, following his hooded spectre down into the dark city not from duty but from that same, strange sense of something missing. It watches as the Thirteenth dances with the Shadows, Keyblades reflecting neon light, and it feels its own blades as a comforting weight, a part of itself to throw into the fight. It watches the Thirteenth – its master, it thinks, with a feeling that it can almost identify as pride – as he slumps in the wake of the dissolving Shadows, hood falling back from pale hair, and it knows, again, that there is something it has lost forever.

They were in the middle of yet another discussion about the castle's Heartless problem when it happened. Everything seemed to shake – not just the floor, or even the castle, but the whole world. Leon swore under his breath, and Yuffie yelped, clutching at the edge of the table she was perched on. Aeris ignored them both, dashing light-footed across the unsteady floor to the stairs and the tall library windows.

Outside, the stars were falling, bright sparks settling slowly from the evening sky. First a few, one by one, then an uncountable multitude. Aeris smiled in delight, steadying herself on the stair rail as the shining rain continued.

"He did it." Leon wore a quiet, triumphant smirk as he joined her at the window. Aeris laughed, feeling the world begin to settle beneath her feet.

"They did it."

"Did what?" Yuffie popped up beside her, looking a little green around the edges. "Whoa!"

"Sora and the others have closed the door." Aeris clasped her hands, smiling out at the starfall. Already she could see traces of the world she remembered.

"They have?" There was a pop behind her, and Merlin was there, scratching at his beard. "Ah – why I do believe – so, so they have."

"Awesome!" Yuffie bounced in place, all queasiness vanished. "Does that mean the Heartless are gone?"

"Ah, yes, well," Merlin began, turning towards the library; Leon interrupted him.

"It means once we kill this lot, no more will show up." He already had a hand on the hilt of his gunblade, and Yuffie was grinning from ear to ear. Aeris shook her head fondly at the pair of them.

"Well, go on then, if you want a fight so badly."

"Roger!" Yuffie flipped herself neatly down off the stairs, shuriken in hand. "Man, it's such a drag when they come back the minute your back's turned."

"I'll take the top floors." Leon nodded slowly, sauntering down the stairs. "The Princesses are still in the chapel."

"Merlin and I will be down in the town, seeing who's back." Aeris turned back to the window, watching the shimmering fall. Where before there had been only void, she could see the outline of the castle bailey.

"Yes, yes, they'll be in need of some assistance!" Merlin waved his hands with a flourish, conjuring a walking stick into being. "Lead the way, my dear."

"Of course." Carefully, Aeris set aside the resurgence of the old hope, locking it neatly into a small corner of her mind and consciously focusing on the practicalities. There had been a lot of damage done, towards the end, and the townspeople were going to need places to live while they rebuilt their homes. There was plenty of space in the castle, but even without the Heartless there had been a lot of changes made, first by the lost research team and then by Maleficent. Whole rooms had been added and removed, corridors filled with pipes and conduits, and the original power system was badly degraded in places.

The basket line down to the base level was already sparking dangerously, and the mists below were beginning to clear as the starfall slowed. Merlin stood on the edge, peering down into the depths and muttering to himself for long enough that a pair of Defenders galloped out of the main doors with Yuffie in chase. Aeris stretched out her hands, concentrating, and summoned her staff; Yuffie caught sight of her and grinned, sending her shuriken slashing at the Heartless' flanks so that they whirled, shields coming down heavily. Aeris leapt, discharging a spell through the staff as she swung it in a wide arc. The Defenders vanished in a hissing flare of light, and Yuffie wiped her brow exaggeratedly.

"Whew! Thanks…" She waved, taking a running leap up to the second level where the Wyverns were swarming, already laying about her with her weapon.

"Well I never – over here, my dear," Merlin called, and Aeris realised that he'd been busy casting spells; a long, sloping stairway led down from the edge of the terrace, curving around the side of the castle. "This should lead us to the Postern, or what's left of it."

"There was more damage farther in, wasn't there." Aeris kept hold of her staff in one hand, running the other along the smooth marble of the castle wall as they descended.

"Yes, yes, and an awful lot of those confounded Heartless running around." Merlin waved his hands, stumping down the stairs. "I paid a visit, of course – to the manufactory, that is, as soon as Maleficent was defeated. And good riddance!"

"Definitely." Aeris skipped down the last few steps that curved around a large brass pipe, looking about her. "Oh heavens…"

"Yes, my dear, it's really quite dreadful of course." Merlin continued past her quite calmly, and Aeris belatedly realised that she was standing still with shock. It was so incredible that this much of the world had been restored after so long, and yet unless she was very much mistaken, this area had once housed the guards' barracks and the herbal gardens, carved out of the same bluestone cliffs the castle was set into. Whatever Lord Ansem's apprentices and their creations had done, eight years ago, it had been cataclysmic; there was simply nothing left but rubble and tumbled rock, interspersed with pools of dirty water. And Heartless, Shadows materialising from the cracks and twitching their way across the stone.

"Be on your guard!" Merlin waved his staff, casting a Thunder spell that crackled down from the sky and across the surface of the water. Heartless writhed and twisted in its wake, darkness losing its shape as the captive hearts rose free. Aeris swung her own staff, knocking aside the few remaining as Merlin nodded in approval.

"Excellent, excellent. Now, my dear, this way; I believe we will find the postern gate."

"And the town." Aeris nodded, scrambling over a raft of boulders and rounding another breastwork of half-corroded piping, sparks and blue flashes showing from within. "This is going to take a lot of work to rebuild, isn't it."

"Quite, quite, although I dare say the effort may be helped along by adequate planning." Merlin hiked his robe up to skinny knees, throwing his beard over his shoulder, and Aeris fought back a giggle as he hopped from rock to rock across a wide, murky puddle. "And, of course, a judicious application of magic – now now, what's all this?"

They'd turned the corner into what had been the castle's postern courtyard, which was still recognisable, if scattered with piles of rusting sheet metal. A handful of nervous-looking people were picking their way through the debris, huddled together with weapons in their hands. They froze at Merlin's words, staring wildly, and for a long, silent moment no one moved.

Then, hesitantly, one man stepped forward. "Merlin, sir? Is that you?"

"Well, by Jove; I do believe it's Wedge." Merlin waved a hand in the air, beaming. "It has been quite a while, hasn't it!"

"Mr Wedge?" Aeris stepped forward, peering closely at the man; he was brown-haired and pleasant-looking, and she had a fleeting recollection of shopping in the Borough with Zack. "The… armourer?"

Wedge started, looking at her as though she was a ghost. "Miss Aeris! We all thought you were – the monsters, the castle was overrun…"

"We were lucky." She'd been lucky, because she'd been warned in time; she'd been on the battlements with the little girls when the end had come, and they'd been flung out among the worlds like jewels from a snapped chain. "Yuffie and Leon are dealing with the Heartless."

"Young Squall Leonheart, that is," Merlin put in, waving a hand expansively. "I do believe Cid will be arriving in a day or two, as well, with some folk from Traverse Town."

"So – they're gone, then?" A woman stepped up beside Wedge, clutching at a broom that seemed to have seen hard use as a weapon. "The usurper, and those…" She trailed off helplessly.

"They're gone." Aeris nodded, smiling as a palpable wave of relief washed over the group. "The false Ansem was defeated, and the rest… were long since swallowed by the darkness."

"Yes, and they've left a confounded mess behind them." Merlin harrumphed, combing fingers through his beard. "How is the rest of the town faring?"

"There's some damage in the Borough, and the market district was burned." Wedge shook his head, face filled with confusion. "How long has it been? It seems like it should have been yesterday, yet much longer… years?"

"Eight years." Aeris shook her head sorrowfully as whispers and moans broke out among the group. "Are there others, out in the Borough?" The thought that this handful might be all that was left of a thriving town was chilling.

"Not many – maybe forty or so, townsfolk and kids." Wedge scratched his head. "Some of the guards who weren't up at the castle that night. No one knows what's going on, though."

"Lead me to them, young man." Merlin rolled up his sleeves, flourishing his staff. "I shall see about providing some shelter immediately; the dratted Heartless are still lurking about, you may be sure."

"Once the castle's secure, I'll start making an inventory of what we can use." Aeris smiled reassuringly at the nervous people, tilting her head. "We need to get Hollow Bastion back on its feet as soon as possible, after all." She hesitated, though, as the need for certainty overwhelmed the whisper in her mind that told her she already knew. "Do any of you know – is Zack out in the Borough? Or Cloud?" The other, she needn't ask after, she thought sadly; not after everything that she'd seen that night.

"From the garrison? I don't…" Wedge looked from side to side, seeking answers from people who shook their heads, murmuring denials. "I'm sorry, Miss."

"It's fine." Aeris forced herself to smile, despite the heavy feeling of sorrow welling in her heart. "I had to ask, hm? I'm glad to see you all again, anyway."

She'd known, after all. Somehow, though, it was hard to silence the tiny voice that insisted she'd see them – both of them – again some day.

The newly formed Hollow Bastion Restoration Committee was meeting in the library, trying to work out a schedule for rebuilding, when the unmistakable whine of a gummi ship's arrival settled part of the debate.

"Cid!" Yuffie jumped up, running to the window and waving wildly. "I'll go fetch him!"

"He knows the way." Leon shifted, crossing his arms over his chest. "We'll have to organise crews to get some houses rebuilt, if he's bringing more people in."

"It shouldn't take much." Aeris clasped her hands, smiling. "The outer part of the town is only superficially damaged, and I'm sure people won't mind taking in lodgers until we can get some housing built. There's a lot of material we can reuse in the castle."

"Huh? Demolish the castle?" Yuffie stared at her with a confused expression, and Aeris recalled that she wasn't old enough to remember the original castle of this world, the way it had been before it became Hollow Bastion.

"It wasn't always this way, you know."

"It was a lot smaller before those guys started messing around." Leon gave her a grim look. "There's no one to rule it, now."

"So no one owns this place?" Yuffie was looking around with a new, genuine interest now, as though cataloguing the value of everything her eyes fell on.

"Forget it." Leon eyed her stonily, and Aeris covered her mouth to muffle a giggle.

"What isn't dangerous is badly decayed," she pointed out gently, tilting her head. "Merlin should probably get the books, though."

"Spoilsports," Yuffie grumped, making a face. "Where is the old codger, anyhow?"

"Mind your manners," Leon muttered.

"He went down to see –" Aeris broke off as the door opened, turning to see Cid standing with his hands on his hips.

"Took me long enough to find the lot of you. Here, look what the cat dragged in." And he shoved someone else into the library, someone blond and nervous and miserable-looking... and so very familiar.

Yuffie whooped, Leon shifted, and Aeris felt a slow, quiet smile spread across her face. She stepped forward, bending to peer up into his face when he refused to lift his head. He'd grown, taller and stronger than the fourteen-year-old he'd been, and in his eyes the spark of hope she remembered had been replaced by weariness, pain, and old despair. There was no way she could ever have forgotten him, or failed to recognise him.

"Hello, Cloud." Aeris smiled up at him, touching his arm gently and ignoring the tiny flinch. "We've missed you."

"I – I'm back." He looked at her as though he expected her to scream at him, hit him, reject him, and her heart ached for everything he must have gone through these last eight years.

"All right!" Yuffie bounced over, trying to ruffle his hair and pouting when he ducked away. He looked so startled that Aeris laughed softly, and Leon shook his head, still leaning against the bookshelf. He nodded laconically when Cloud looked up at him, though.

"You can help with the reconstruction."

"Sure." Cloud ducked his head again, reminding Aeris poignantly of the child he'd been, shy and uncertain and ignored by the other town kids until he'd come up to the castle, joined the guard cadets. Until Zack had taken him out of his shell.

"Hey, Cloud," she murmured, touching his arm again with careful, slow fingers. "Come with me for a bit, hm?"

"Okay." He visibly steeled himself, looking like he was going to his execution as he followed her out to the entrance hall. She wondered what he thought she would do, what he considered himself guilty of.

"What's all that about?" Yuffie demanded behind them, in tones of extreme puzzlement.

"None of your damn business," Cid told her bluntly as Cloud hurried to hold the door open. Aeris smiled thanks, pausing on the threshold and wondering where to go. There was too much ruined, down in the town, and too little private space up here in the castle. When they'd been young, there had been the armoury and the gardens and the maze of cobbled streets and waterways in the town, all casualties of the apprentices' fall.

"Let's go up to the chapel," she decided, holding out a hand that Cloud looked at with shock, seeming to have no idea what she wanted from him. "It's okay, right?"

"Y-yeah." He looked shadowed, she thought, and when he slowly – unwillingly – offered his hand, she understood his hesitation. It was obvious that the dull brass claws weren't simply a glove, as she'd assumed. Poor Cloud, to go through so much alone – but she knew better than to show anything that could be taken as pity or fear. He'd been so fragile and tentative, back when they'd first met…

Carefully, she took his hand in hers, shaking her head with a smile as he tried not to flinch from her. Perhaps, with time and hope, she could do something to help this, too; she tilted her head, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm like an old-fashioned lady. She could feel the pulse beneath his skin, just a little fast, and the way he tensed at the contact.

"Come on, this way." She tugged him gently in the direction of the Lift Stop. "So much has changed here, hasn't it. I hardly recognised the place when we first returned, you know, and of course there were so many Heartless…"

"Are they still…?" Cloud's muscles tensed under her hand, and the metal claws grated as he clenched his fist.

"Only down in the base levels." Aeris patted his arm. "Leon and Yuffie took care of the rest. They work surprisingly well together."

"I know." Cloud ducked his head, and Aeris regarded him with indignant surprise.

"You met them? They didn't tell me that!"

"I told them not to." He refused to look at her, and might have pulled away if she'd let him.

"You did, hm?" Interesting, Aeris thought sadly; she filed it away with the other things she would ask about later as she steered him out of the High Tower basket. "This way – oh good, they left the steps up."

"Steps?" Cloud looked around in confusion, obviously trying to work out where they were. Aeris sympathised; the mental map of the castle that she'd formed in childhood had little to no relevance now.

"Well, more like jumps, really." She pointed. "I think this whole area used to be part of the south rampart; it's hard to tell, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Cloud pulled carefully free of her grip, vaulting easily up the first of the giant steps and turning to offer her his right hand. He'd always been so polite and considerate, she remembered, but rarely this watchful, as though he was waiting for hatred, revulsion, rejection and cruelty. Aeris wondered again what it was he thought he'd done as she led him into the passageway to the chapel.

Inside, it was quiet and dim, the only light that which filtered through the stained glass high above. Familiar, in the way the rest of the castle wasn't. Aeris could feel Cloud relax, infinitesimally, as the calm of the place enveloped them; she smiled to herself, hopping up to catch the edge of the organist's ledge above the altar and pull herself up.

"Aeris?" Cloud sounded startled, and Aeris peered down at him as she settled herself comfortably in the corner, legs dangling.

"It's okay, right?" She patted the marble next to her. "Come and sit with me, Cloud."

"…Yeah." There were shades of emotion in his voice that she couldn't identify, but he swung himself up onto the ledge with only a moment's hesitation, settling a careful few inches away from her. There was silence, the low light wrapping around them for a long moment before Aeris reached out, taking Cloud's hand.

His right hand, gloved but warm and uncertain in hers. He hadn't changed so very much, after all. "I'm glad you're back, Cloud," she said softly, tilting her head to smile at him. "I've missed you. And Zack, too," she added, keeping her voice light and face calm as his fingers twitched. "He… won't be coming back, will he?" She couldn't quite help the question, even though she knew better than anyone that Cloud wouldn't have been this way – been left this way, so broken and alone, if Zack had been around to watch over him. Giving up hope had always been the hardest part, for her.

"I'm sorry." Cloud's voice was low and rough with pain; Aeris squeezed his hand comfortingly.

"Why?" She could guess, of course, because his every movement since he'd arrived had been telling her that he blamed himself for something. She simply didn't believe that he could ever have done anything to hurt his first and best friend. Not willingly, not Cloud.

"It… was my fault," and there was so much hurt in that bare whisper that her heart ached. She struggled to keep her voice light, her face calm amidst the grief and self-hatred pouring off him. How could he have lived with this for eight years?

"Why do you think that?"

"If I hadn't been there – if he hadn't had to protect me…" he trailed off, hunching his shoulders and looking away from her.

"From Sephiroth?" Aeris asked quietly, surprised by the way he tensed and shuddered at the name. She'd pieced together parts of the story from what others had told her, and knew that Sephiroth had lost his hold on sanity when the darkness had come down. Zack wouldn't have allowed his friend and commander to continue the rampage of destruction and death that Aeris had been told of.

"I was looking for Zack," Cloud said slowly, as though the words were wrung from ancient grief. "I was stupid – I should have known there was more to it than the Heartless, but I could deal with them. But I ran into him… Zack had to come and save me, and there was so much darkness…"

"So you blame yourself for what Sephiroth did?" Aeris shifted to face him, pressing his cold fingers between her own. "Do you think Zack would? You know he would have helped anyone, Cloud; that was who he was, after all." She smiled, remembering. "But I think he was glad it was you."

"But I –" He swallowed, looking down at his knees. "I finally found him again – Sephiroth. I spent so long looking, and I couldn't even kill him." His voice was choked with bitterness and resignation, so many things that she couldn't decipher, and Aeris fought back the shock that Sephiroth could still be alive at all. Every account she'd heard had suggested he'd been in the process of losing his heart, on that night eight years ago, and she'd seen that happen too many times to have any illusions about the process.

"But neither could Zack," she pointed out gently, ignoring his flinch. "He wouldn't want you to sacrifice yourself for revenge, you know." She reached out, brushing a lock of hair out of his eyes. "You're not to blame, Cloud. Not for any of it." Time to change the subject, and give him a chance to absorb that. "Hey, Cloud, give me your other hand?"

"…why?" he asked, voice surprised and wary and still thick with self-castigation. She held out her hand, though, and after a moment he offered the metal claw, holding it rigidly still as she examined it. It was at least well-made, Aeris thought, touching the dull brass carefully as she centred herself, gathering her power. Beneath the leather and metal, she could feel the damage – burned and twisted flesh, knotted tendon, cracked bone. But still living, even if only in spirit; she could feel the phantom presence of the hand that should have been there, the imprint of strong fingers and a palm callused from sword practice.

"This isn't as bad as I thought, you know," she murmured, running her fingers up the metal plates to the hard, inflexible band that met yielding skin. "Do you trust me, Cloud?"

He started, making a choked sound as the cold metal of the clawed hand shuddered against her skin. "I…"

"It's okay." Aeris touched his forehead with two fingers, smiling into his eyes when he raised his head. Such a weight of sorrow hanging over him, and if she could lift it even a little… "I'm afraid this will hurt, though. Are you ready?"

"You're…" Cloud's eyes widened, deep and blue in the low light, and she saw him swallow. "I – yeah." He nodded firmly, and she recognised, for the first time, a spark of the determination she remembered.

"Close your eyes." Aeris breathed in deeply, letting her own gaze become unfocused as she cradled the broken hand between both of hers. Breathe out, and then in with the green wash of power within her swirling to a torrent, a crescendo that spilled through her body until she was hyper-aware of the world around her, the smell of dust and leather and steel, the currents in the air that brushed her face.

Carefully, taming the rising power to her will, she reached out, making the metal and mechanism of the false limb into a conductor, a connection to link her with the very fabric of Cloud's being. The shock of contact was extraordinary, and she felt her own gasp distant, secondary to the flood of image and memory in Cloud's mind. Aeris recognised her own face, briefly, and Zack's, weighed down with guilt and recrimination, but the overwhelming constant was Sephiroth – turning on the castle rampart with his troops at his back and the wind in his hair; falling from the heavens like a dark angel with cruelty in his face; filling the world with the brush of feathers and the perfect vicious light of his eyes…

Oh, Cloud. Aeris regained control of herself through nothing but will, carefully distancing herself from the pain of Cloud's memories. Some walls shouldn't be crossed, and some things were his alone – until and unless he chose to share the burden.

Here. Refining her grip on the power, she examined the shattered remnant that had been his hand, calling up the ghost of the muscle and bone that should have been. Heal, she told the power, shaping the pattern of the spell in her mind, Cure edged with the white fire of Holy to chase away the darkness. Restore.

She heard him gasp when she released it, a ragged inhalation on the edge of a scream; felt his pain as though it was her own as metal seared bright-hot, melting into the empty place and transmuting itself. Aeris closed her eyes against the flare of green and white, poured everything that she had into the spell, following it through to the end. She was left panting as the light faded behind her eyelids, the power draining away to a bare background hum.

"Aeris?" Cloud's voice cracked with astonishment and alarm, and she opened her eyes to see him caught in the act of reaching out to her, staring blankly at his left hand. His whole left hand, frozen in mid-air.

Aeris smiled, propping herself carefully against the cool stone of the wall to her right. "That's better, isn't it." There was nothing to show, now, that he'd been injured at all; she knew that he would do better without the constant reminder of the past. He was haunted enough, she thought sadly, and now that she knew a little of why, well… It would take all the love and care she could give him, and even then it might not be enough, not with Sephiroth still out there somewhere. With Sephiroth part of him, like a poison.

"You…" Cloud stared down at his hand, flexing it slowly, and Aeris thought she caught a glimpse of the old, adolescent wonder on his face, the expression he had worn when Zack had first befriended him.

"Think of it as a homecoming gift," she told him lightly, touching his shoulder as the tremors of overexertion began to wear off. "I really have missed you, you know."

ficpost: vespidae (Xenosaga)

2007-10-16T22:14:36Z

Another URTV backstory ficlet >.> Nigredo and Citrine this time. I'm going to need some kind of name for this universe, aren't I.

vespidae

"I think there's something wrong with him." Nigredo bites his lip, staring at his shoes. It's weird how Citrine always seems to appear when he's on his own, but he's on his own a lot lately. Albedo clings to Rubedo more than ever, and it's easier to go find something else to do than to hang around feeling unwanted. He can't get that other thing out of his mind, either.

"With whom?" Citrine is standing on the low wall at the top of the steps by the main entrance, one hand on a tree branch; Nigredo wonders whether she does it on purpose, to force him to look up at her. The idea makes him a little uncomfortable, though he can’t quite grasp why.

"Albedo." He twists his fingers together anxiously, then realises he's doing it as Citrine's mouth quirks. Guiltily, he clasps them behind his back.

"Number 667?" Citrine asks, head tilting. "He has regenerative capabilities, does he not?"

"Huh? How do you -?" Nigredo gapes up at her for a moment, his mind vividly replaying the sickening image of Albedo's head exploding in a spray of blood. Citrine is like that, seeming to know everything about all of them and always talking like a model soldier. Their father hasn't seen fit to inform Nigredo of any of the things she recites, and lately he's finding it harder to squash the unpleasant feeling that he knows why.

"It is elementary." All this really means, he's puzzled out, is that Citrine is dodging his question. She smoothes down her skirt in an economical motion, meeting his eyes for a moment until he looks away, fighting a confused blush. "Why do you believe that there is a problem?"

"He-" Nigredo looks down at his feet. "He's changed. He hurt one of the standard units, and he won't let Rubedo go…" And I don't like the way he looks at Sakura, he finishes in the dubious privacy of his own mind, feeling like a traitor even thinking it.

"Number 623 will recover." Citrine doesn't seem at all surprised, and Nigredo wonders whether she's dismissing his concerns or just being Citrine. "It's unfortunate that the standard units have such weak anti-U-DO waveforms, but it just makes us variants all the more necessary." She hops lightly down from the wall, walking towards him with her hands clasped behind her back. Instinctively, Nigredo backs away for a few steps before remembering to hold his ground.

"Are you saying that they're – expendable?" He doesn't know what to think of that, really, because variants or no variants, they're all supposed to be the same. Surely if the threat is as real as their father always says, all of them are necessary.

"Perhaps." Citrine brushes right past him, tipping her head back to look up at the sky as she walks across the bridge to the gazebo. Nigredo shivers hard, wandering up to the edge of the pool to stare down at the holographic fish. "You were speaking of number 667, though. Do you really believe that he is unstable?"

"…I don't know." Nigredo shakes his head, feeling her eyes on him. "If it was a problem… the psychologists would catch it, wouldn't they?" He wants to believe it, but something in him still cringes at the memory of Albedo's dark silences and too-bright eyes. If anything goes wrong, it will be his duty – he shudders at the thought, suddenly cold all over despite the warmth of the day.

"That's their purpose." Citrine waves an acknowledging hand, leaning against one of the gazebo's support posts. When Nigredo looks up, not quite able to meet her eyes, she's watching him intently. It makes him shiver again, though he's not quite sure why. "Nevertheless, I appreciate the information, number 669." He hears the current beneath her words, the unspoken reminder of the purpose he would rather forget. They're the same, after all.

ficpost: memoriae (Xenosaga)

2007-10-11T22:44:05Z

...Xenosaga ficlet. P-probably the first of a bunch in this particular universe, augh. URTV-centric, backstory or possibly middle-story depending on your point of view, entirely gen. So far.

memoriae

"There." Nigredo sits back on his heels, dusting his hands off and looking down at the little stone. "That should do, right?"

"Yeah." Rubedo crouches down beside him, folding his arms on his knees. "It's enough." The slightly-wobbly letters painted on the headstone don't match the other memorials in the garden – none of the brushes they'd found had been any good – but that's not important. It's the memory that matters.

"Poor Gaignun." Nigredo sighs, patting the improvised memorial. Probably they shouldn't really be doing this, and Rubedo's pretty sure that when their latest government minder catches up with them they're going to get a hell of a scolding. This new Miltia is still heaving with the influx of refugees, the skyline changing daily, and they're not supposed to leave the complex alone. It's weird and slightly uncomfortable to be treated like a child, now, but at least no one has suggested that they go to live in the orphanage with the Miltian kids.

"He had a good life." Rubedo bows his head for a moment before nodding and straightening up, looking around at the park. This area has been set aside from the manic construction work, designated as a memorial garden for the victims of the Conflict. Neat stones are set in wandering lines among trees and flowers that are still subtly unfamiliar. There is no marker for any of his nameless brothers, which is a guilty relief; those memories are still too painful, and he hates to think about the events of that night. He's not going to forget in a hurry.

"He was a good cat." Nigredo sighs, standing up, and for a moment Rubedo thinks he imagines that Nigredo is actually taller than him. The idea makes his stomach twist with wrongness, and he decides that it must be a trick of the light. They're the same, after all. Thoughtlessly, he reaches out a hand, meaning to flatten down Nigredo's hair, but then checks himself, flinching a little. Nigredo is Nigredo, and no one else. Clumsily, he turns the gesture into a point.

"Uh - hey, is that the sea?"

"Really?" Nigredo jumps up onto his tiptoes, takes a couple of steps in the direction Rubedo's pointing. "I think the park area has a lake…"

"Oh." Rubedo shrugs, turning away to look out over the weaving ranks of empty graves. "Maybe we can go there some day."

"Yeah. I'd like that." Nigredo hesitates for a moment, an uncomfortable waiting feeling at the edge of Rubedo's mind that makes him look around, curious.

"What is it?"

"Rubedo… Do you think we should make another stone?" His expression is half wary, half pained and guilty, and Rubedo doesn't need to ask who he's thinking about.

"…Nah." He closes his eyes, lifting his hand to his right chest to feel the faint, faint echo of his own strong heartbeat. "It's okay. That guy doesn't need one."

kasoku @ 2007-08-27T17:05:00

2007-08-27T16:08:46Z

F-final Crisis Core trailer uwaaah. The ending. The ending. *bawls*

ETA: and the uncut version from the Square Enix Party thing. Uwaaaah. ;_;

crossposted from yuri_challenge, mark 3

2007-06-30T21:34:05Z

Title: Hesitation Change
Rating: PG-13
Request: Suikoden III: Lucia/Chris - dance - Grasslander traditions and Zexen traditions
Summary: Festival, diplomacy, and the ties that bind. You can't cage a falcon.
Notes: 2970 words. Manga-based. A hesitation change is a Waltz figure that presents a number of options and is usually used to mark corners.

Hesitation Change

She hadn't wanted to come, and she still wasn't entirely certain how she'd ended up here, back at the head of her troop and heading for the Grasslander village. The last time she'd ridden this way was all too clear in her memory, and despite the lack of armour – which had been hard to give up; she felt exposed and dangerously vulnerable – Chris was grimly certain that she would receive no welcome from the Grasslanders. She'd pointed that out to Salome, but he had a habit of being irritatingly persuasive in these situations, and they'd both known that they couldn't trust any of the Councilmen to treat Grasslanders as human.

"Halt!" she called, habit giving an edge to her voice as she reined in at the top of yet another low rise. From this vantage she could see the village at the end of the shallow vale, nestled beneath its rocky hill. Even at this distance, there was an air of gaiety about the place which only increased her discomfort. Treachery or no treachery, her presence would be nothing but a reminder of bloodshed.

"Lady Chris?" Leo rode forward, pointing down the gentle slope, but Chris shook her head, cutting off what he would have said.

"We'll lead the horses from here." Even unarmoured, they rode like knights, and she would make every gesture of reconciliation that she could; there would be no semblance of anything but a peacetime visit in the minds of the villagers. She'd given orders before they left Brass Castle that none of them would touch so much as a candle on this trip; relations were still far too strained, and the last thing anyone needed was a misunderstanding.

"We're really treading on eggshells, hm?" Percy remarked lightly. Chris bit her lip, dismounting. She knew very well how unsuited she was for anything but the battlefield or the War Room; diplomacy was Salome's game, a dance of manners and meanings that she could understand but not herself follow. She would never be at home in a gown, and the courtesies and meaningless flourishes of noble speech died stilted and clumsy in her mouth.

Sighing, she unbuckled her sword belt, hooking it over the pommel of her saddle and trying to ignore the sudden, itchy feeling of eyes on her. Her horse turned his head to blink worriedly at her, and Chris patted his nose in apology; he too had been trained for war, and walking unarmed beneath the open sky made him nervous.

"Cheer up, Lady Chris." Percy strolled past her, leading one of the pack animals as well as his mount. Blinking, Chris realised she'd been standing still for who knew how long. "It's a festival, not a funeral."

"…I know." Taking the reins, she started down the slope, following Percy and Borus while the others closed around her like an honour guard. She'd almost had one, and only Salome's fast talking had dissuaded the council from sending a detachment along.

By the time they reached the stream that ran through the bottom of the valley, the sounds of laughter and music and excited children were plainly audible. As she'd expected, the sight of the Grasslander village decked with garlands and flowers brought back a flood of memories, visions and images seen through other eyes. The familiarity of it made her smile, relaxing a little; this was the place and these the people that her father had adopted as his own. Last year at Budehuc she'd had to force herself to ask Hugo about the man he'd known as Jimba, and it had been hard to reconcile his halting words and the rune's visions with her own memories.

The raw keening cry of a gryphon startled her from her thoughts, and Chris jerked her head up to see Fubar circling high above the small party, apparently riderless. The horses whickered nervously, and Leo swore under his breath as his mount and the pack animal tried to pull in different directions.

"Easy." Chris put enough command in her voice that the knights jumped to attention, and the warhorses settled warily, looking to their riders. She patter her own horse's shoulder, clicking her tongue absently. "He's not hunting us."

"A-are you so sure?" Borus demanded, staring up warily as the gryphon dipped and wheeled in the sky.

"Aw, don't be a scaredy-cat." Percy grinned wickedly, trying to sling an arm over Borus' shoulders only to be indignantly shrugged off. "They can smell fear, you know."

"Boys." Chris shook her head at them, and Percy laughed while Borus stammered and blushed. Leo stuck out a hand, offering to take her reins, and after a moment's consideration she handed them to him with a nod of thanks, picking her way slowly forward through the knee-high grass. There was a path worn by the stream, and a few yards away a pair of young women were kneeling with yokes and water barrels. Steeling herself, she was about to call a polite greeting when a yell from behind startled her.

"Chris! Heeeey!" The thrumming beat of hooves bearing down had her spinning, fingers itching for her sword hilt – cause enough to be grateful for having taken precautions, she supposed as she tried to calm her racing heart. A group of riders were rounding the bend towards the ford, bowmen with their saddles hung with game, and galloping ahead –

"Hugo!" Smiling with more than a little relief, Chris shot the knights a quick look, relieved to see no trace of ill-will in their faces. Allying in the face of Harmonia had been a fraught venture at first, but the final battle had eroded a lot of the tension; even Borus' suspicion had taken second place to politeness, although he was still prone to shooting looks at anyone who he felt was too forward with her. It was enough to make her wince, sometimes; for as much as she'd set aside and refused the gowns and manners of a noblewoman, the expectations of others were the hardest to shake.

"I thought he'd have grown," Leo commented sotto voce, and Percy shook his head with a stifled snort of laughter.

"Hey!" How he managed to jump the stream with no bridle and one hand waving enthusiastically, Chris would never understand. Hugo tumbled off his mount's back in front of the little group of armourless knights, looking somehow more at home than she'd ever seen him. It was natural, she supposed, watching him slap his mount's flank to send it cantering off towards the village, but however much Brass Castle and Vinay del Zexay were home to her, it was hard to feel like she belonged anywhere.

"Welcome to Karaya." Hugo smiled, and Chris bit her lip, trying to banish memory. Carefully, she fitted her fist into her palm as she'd seen Lucia do in greeting, bowing a little.

"We're honoured by your invitation." He had the decency not to laugh at her, at least, she supposed with a slight flush as Hugo coughed. At least this was unlikely to be a particularly formal occasion, diplomatic status or no. "I hope our presence won't cause you any trouble."

"I think everyone's got used to the idea of being allies." Hugo held his hand out to shake Zexen-style with all of them, managing to look very awkward in the process. "C'mon into the village – Mom's around somewhere," he added as the rest of his party drew up behind him, nodding wary greetings. "She'll be glad to see you here."

"A-ah." Chris fought a brief and losing battle against letting the blush get any further, before giving it up and pointing her face squarely towards the village. She didn't dare look to see whether Percy and Hugo were laughing at her now; fair skin was a curse, and with her rune she couldn't even claim sunburn. There were so many memories intertwined there, her own and her father's; she'd spent many a sleepless night trying to sort through them, separate those feelings that were hers alone. "Lead the way, then."

She was dizzy with smoke and memory by the time dusk began to fall, the wine an intoxicating warmth in her belly. Hugo had long since been dragged laughing into the dance, and even Borus had been wooed away by the smiling village girls. Percy had tried to persuade her to join them, but Chris had been content to sit to the side and watch, still fearful of making a fool of herself. The dances only seemed to grow wilder and more intimate as the evening wore into night, a far cry from the few formal steps she'd learned to stumble through at balls or even the skipping folk rhythms of Iksay.

Sipping slowly at the bittersweet honey-wine, Chris watched the eddy and swirl of the dancers. It was another couple's dance, and the village women seemed to be vying to see who could make her partner blush the most fiercely. More memories rose through the rune: women flirting and batting their lashes, invitations into the dance that were always refused. It matched the little she knew of her father's life here, setting a lump in her throat at the knowledge that neither she nor her mother had been forgotten.

The rhythm of the music was drawing to a close, fiddlers trading places with drummers as a girl with a harp-like instrument came forward. As the couples broke up, Chris saw Percy's eyes fix on her and narrow worryingly. Shaking her head in what she hoped didn't look too much like panic, she set her cup blindly to one side and backed out of the circle of torchlight and laughter. It would be as well to get some air, and if her knights dragged her into the dance they would never let her out. Easier to back into the growing shadows than to endure her own awkwardness.

"You're not dancing?" Lucia's low voice startled her, though she didn't know why she was surprised to find the older woman leaning against the side of a building, pipe in hand and eyes dark and thoughtful. Chris swallowed, trying to calm the sudden flutter of her heart and certain that her face was flushed as she shook her head.

"Not even with your knights?" Lucia gestured with her pipe, wreathing trails of blue-white smoke through the air around her. It softened the proud edges of her features a little, veiling her eyes.

"If I dance with one of them, I will have to dance with them all," Chris found herself admitting despite herself, unable to quite meet Lucia's eyes. This, she was suddenly certain, was all her; all the images of Lucia that the rune showed her were coloured with respect and nostalgia and little more.

"And it's not your thing, is it?" Lucia laughed softly, and Chris flushed, looking away. "From all accounts, the I – Zexen likes its formality."

"The nobility –" Chris began uncertainly, before she was interrupted by the patter and shuffle of feet behind her.

"Here." Lucia caught her by the wrist, tugging her to the side so that an older woman could herd a knot of sleepy, yawning children past. "You don't seem the type to enjoy dressing in ribbons and lace, true."

"All I ever wanted was to be a knight," Chris found herself admitting slowly, staring down at her gloved hands. "I never learned the rules, and now they tell me I'm too old to dance with other girls at formal functions..."

"You find that you don't suit peace, now that there's no war?" Lucia tapped the stem of her pipe against her lips, sipping slowly from it. "It must be hard to be a woman and a warrior, among the Ironheads."

"I never thought so." It had never seemed to matter that she was a girl, outside of the taunts and the drive to prove herself worthy of her knighthood. More and more, though, she was coming to find that she could be accepted as one but never the other. The village girls of Iksay had giggled over her clumsy formality, and noblewomen smirked behind their fans at her mannishness, but the respect of her men was what counted and she'd earned it a hundred times over.

"No? How many marriage offers have you received this year?" Lucia smirked at her, looking her over deliberately. "You may be their Silver Maiden, but the highborn have their customs, don't they?"

"The household deal with them." There'd been no shortage of aspiring suitors, despite her reputation. She'd told the servants to refuse them all, irrespective of rank; she was Knight Commander first, runebearer second, and anything else was inevitably eclipsed by the duties the Council piled on her. "If I was content to abide by custom, I would never have become a Knight."

"I think we're all glad you did." Lucia smiled ruefully, inclining her head as Chris started to protest. "Oh, I can say it. Time and practicality give one some perspective, after all." She paused for a moment, watching Chris with dark, penetrating eyes. "Customs – you know, there's an old Karaya proverb that says marriage is heaven for women and hell for men." Chris felt her eyes go wide, the same words echoed familiar-unfamiliar in memory. Lucia nodded slowly, watching her intently as she sipped at her pipe. "I never believed in it, myself."

"It's not my idea of a rewarding life." Chris looked away, startled to realise how dark it had become. The firelight from the square cast deep shadows, and combined with the dying glow of Lucia's pipe to turn her skin dark gold and her eyes to amber. Something not-quite-uncomfortable stirred in her stomach, and she bit her lip, realising that shadows and music had made them invisible, inaudible.

"Can't cage a falcon, can you." Lucia smirked, tapping ash out of her pipe and carefully treading it into the dirt. "You know, we never got a chance to finish that fight."

"I – what?" Chris blinked, belatedly recalling more smoke, more fire, vicious grins and a dizzying plunge into icy water. "The alliance –" she began uncertainly, stomach clenching with something like anticipation. A festival was no time for this kind of contest, and even a spar would be seized upon by some of the vultures who called themselves diplomats back at Vinay del Zexay.

"Clan custom says I can take a forfeit," and suddenly Lucia was much closer, wearing a very familiar predatory smirk. Chris tried to step back, half out of reflex, but her legs wouldn't move as Lucia leaned in.

She tasted of smoke and spice. Chris was suddenly hyper-aware that she was frozen in place, eyes wide and blind as Lucia kissed her, lingering and a little forceful. Her first kiss, with nothing to compare to but the cringing embarrassment of having her hand bowed over at Council functions. Nothing to compare, and she was just barely beginning to put a name to the coiled and knotted feeling in her stomach when Lucia pulled back with an amused humming sound. Blinking, Chris stared helplessly as she turned with a nod, sauntering easily away into the darkness.

"I –" For some reason, it was the hand that held the rune that gravitated to her lips, as though she could heal away the tumult of emotion alongside the lingering echo of sensation. Lucia's words leapt to the forefront of her mind: I can take a forfeit. A challenge, then, but one Chris had no idea how to answer. Only that she wanted to answer, refused to back down. There was no one to see or judge her, and the chains of custom and propriety that usually bound her were loosed, in this place.

If I have the will. The rune gave her nothing; every particle of half-confused wanting was hers alone. The first step forward felt like the rush of battle, like her path solidifying beneath her feet, and she broke into a run, following Lucia's dim retreating form to the deep shadow of a doorway. Her heart beat hard in her throat, nerves twisting to fire and smoke along her veins.

"So?" Lucia turned with a smirk, seemingly entirely unsurprised to see Chris there. There was an edge and a glide to her movements as she lounged against the doorframe, pushing the half-open door slowly back and forth with one foot.

"I'm not in the habit of conceding." Her voice came out low and throaty, and Lucia's pleased murmur startled her into stillness, the uncertainty not quite gone despite the shivery tension that coiled through her.

"So I gathered." Lucia didn't move, though, watching her with dark and narrowed eyes, and Chris realised with a sense of inevitability that the next move was being left up to her. Swallowing, she stepped forward, forcefully banishing the persistent murmur of youth and inexperience. Her fingers slipped unsteadily through the smooth straight fall of Lucia's hair, gloves catching roughly; there were only a few inches between them.

"En guarde?" Chris managed through a dry mouth, unsteadily relieved when Lucia's eyes crinkled with amusement. Strong, clever fingers at her throat, the back of her neck, and her own hair fell from its clip, uncoiling down her back as Lucia leaned in to kiss her again, smoky-sweet and rough. Half-dazed, Chris found herself kissing back hungrily, dizzied enough by sensation that she barely registered the door shutting behind them.

Lucia hummed low in her throat, pulling away and winding an arm about Chris' waist to steady her. It was almost pitch black, the only illumination a flicker of firelight from a banked hearth. No one to see her, no embarrassments or expectations; just hands and breath and fragments of words. Chris closed her eyes and followed where she was led.

crossposted from yuri_challenge, mark 2

2007-06-30T21:30:54Z

Title: How It's Lost
Rating: PG-13
Request: FFVII: Tifa/Jessie - steel - "stronger than they look, those girls are"
Summary: Terrorism, espionage, and Sector Six: how far would you go?
Notes: 2680 words. Set a couple of years pre-game.

How It's Lost

There were certain things that you just had to deal with, living under the Plate. The eternal Mako-tinged twilight, the near-stagnant air, and the constant grinding poverty that reigned in the slums were all things that you could become used to; Tifa had found it difficult, at first, but since joining up with Avalanche it had become just another symptom of everything that was wrong with the Shinra. Once, she reminded herself every time the queue at the item store wound around the block, or when the beer in the casks the guys rolled in was soured again, this land had belonged to people who lived beneath the open sky.

The other major trouble of sub-Plate life was, in Tifa's opinion, Sector Six. Both too near and too far from the unofficial pleasure quarter of the Wall Market, her bar sometimes seemed to be a beacon for the kind of men who assumed she was going to sell them more than liquor and the occasional hot plate. These days, with at least half of Avalanche as regulars, potential troublemakers usually got tossed out on their ears before they could bother her at all, but Tifa hadn't lost the knack of spotting the customers who needed pointing towards a different kind of establishment.

It was immediately obvious, as far as Tifa was concerned, that the woman who sauntered into the bar while Barret and the others were 'out' going over plans was one of that type. The high boots, painted-on minidress, and too-bright makeup were as good as advertising, and the way she glanced around the bar at the men, swinging her hips provocatively… Tifa narrowed her eyes, set down the glass she'd been cleaning, and flipped up the countertop at the end of the bar, hurrying to confront the woman.

"Are you looking for someone in particular?" she demanded, setting her hands on her hips with as much authority as she could muster. "We don't allow… businesswomen to work in here."

"Are you sure of that, honey?" The woman looked her up and down lewdly, and Tifa fought a blush, gritting her teeth. At least it was a slow night; half her regulars would probably be only too pleased to pay for this blond tart's time.

"Very sure, thank you." She crossed her arms over her chest, wishing briefly for the security of her metal knuckles, but the woman just laughed throatily, tossing her head.

"Good for you, honey. Lemme guess, you'd be Tifa, huh?" She dipped a red-nailed hand into her cleavage, pulling out a somewhat-crumpled envelope. "Pass this on to my sweet cousin Jessie, would ya? Think Gramma wants her home sometime."

"Jessie?" Tifa blinked, trying to recalculate the situation. She knew Jessie had no family, because the other agent had told her so, which meant Avalanche business. It left a sour taste in her mouth. "Sure." Jessie was down below with the others, but there was no way to do anything about that until closing. She took the message gingerly, staring at the damp, folded envelope.

"I'll be outta your hair then, honey." The prostitute tipped her a wink, patting her familiarly on the hip, and Tifa glared around the bar as catcalls broke out from the customers. The woman just laughed, strutting back out of the door as though entirely confident that every eye would be on her.

By the time Tifa had thrown the last of the drunks out the door and locked up, she'd regained most of her equilibrium. If Avalanche was using the street girls to carry messages – well, she didn't like it much, and she'd give whatever idiot had actually sent the thing a lecture for wasting time in Six, but they were all doing what they had to. She could put up with a lot, to help the planet, and she would – but the way that woman had eyed her, that was what refused to be forgotten.

Sighing, she pulled the envelope from her pocket, studying it warily as she hopped up to sit on the glass housing of the pinball machine that doubled as the lift. The mechanism had been giving them trouble lately, and Tifa was half-convinced that it would shake her or the building to pieces one of these days if Wedge didn't get back in time to fix it.

"Tifa!" Barret hollered as soon as she hit the ground, waving his gun-arm in her direction and almost clocking Biggs in the head. Biggs yelped and ducked, and Barret swore as the plans they'd been examining fluttered off the table to pile on the floor. "Dammit – Tifa, get a look at this, would ya?"

"Sure." Squeezing past him, she dropped down on an unoccupied crate, peering at the complex tracery of the plans. "What is it?"

"This one," Jessie tapped the largest piece of paper, which kept trying to roll up at the edges, "is a copy of the proposed route for the new Mako distribution line to Junon." She glanced up with a smile at Tifa's indrawn breath. "It gets better. This one," she said triumphantly, smoothing out the smaller, much-creased paper, "is one of the old plans for Midgar's reactor system."

"You want to hit the reactors?" Tifa glanced aside at Barret's toothy grin, wondering whether this stroke of luck wasn't a bit too much to believe in. "Which one – oh hey," she interrupted herself, shaking her head and turning back to Jessie. "A street woman from Six brought this for you."

"Huh?" Jessie took the envelope, shaking her hair out of her eyes as she examined it. "Who was it?" She opened it carefully, as though the contents might bite, and Tifa shook her head, looking aside.

"She didn't give her name."

"We've got a few agents working over in the Wall Market," Biggs explained, shuffling the map along the table as Jessie pored over her message, flipping through the code book.

"Ain't got nothin' due to come in, though." Barret poked at the reactor map, squinting down at it. "Tifa, you got good eyes; think ya can work out which of those damn Mako-suckin' reactors this is meant ta be?"

"You don't know?" Tifa glanced around the table, from Barret to Biggs and Johnson and Jessie muttering codes to herself. Barret shrugged, then scratched his head.

"It don't say."

"It's kind of old," Johnson put in, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall of the hideout. "Dates back to when they built the things, maybe; got tossed out with the trash."

"Really?" Tifa smoothed the plan out, bending to peer at the ink-scratch notations. "There are some numbers on here – A0-782?"

"The hell does that mean?" Barret complained, thumping the table.

"Part numbers?" Jessie looked up, catching Tifa's attention with the sudden brightness of her smile. "Hey, listen to this for a minute."

"What?" Tifa straightened the papers Barret had dislodged, leaning forward curiously on her elbows. Jessie dumped her notepad into the middle of the table, pointing out the two rows of figures – dates and times, Tifa realised with confusion.

"The shift schedule for the guards on the new pipeline."

"Shit!" Barret snatched the notepad up with his good hand, peering cross-eyed at the list. "How long's this good for? Where'd it come from, anyhow?"

"One of our agents from Sector Six," Jessie confirmed, and Tifa's mouth quirked despite herself. She looked away, refusing to meet Jessie's puzzled eyes.

"Shinra change their timetables every month, right?" Biggs turned to one side, rummaging behind the computer terminal for the battered notebook that served as everything from the bar's invoices to Avalanche's inventory. "It's the twenty-fifth already, near as makes no difference…"

"Then we hit 'em in four days." Barret grinned, suddenly wolfish. "Right when they're waitin' to go home. We got enough explosive to blow up the damn pipe, right?"

"There's a new batch setting up out back of Johnny's," Tifa volunteered, wrinkling her nose at the remembered smell of the chemical mixture.

"If we hit the pipeline in several places, it'll cause them more trouble and take longer to rebuild." Jessie closed her notebook with a snap, reaching for the map again. "So we're really gonna do this thing, huh?"

"Hell yeah." Barret thumped his fist on the table, pushing himself upright; Tifa scooted aside, leaning on her arms to peer down at the plans. "We're gonna save the planet, damn it."

Even at what passed for night in the slums, Sector Seven was never quiet. Tifa leaned back on her hands, staring up at the distant underside of the Plate; if she let her eyes go unfocused she could almost pretend that the fuzzy pinpoints of paint and emergency lights were stars.

"Hey, you." The roof creaked behind her, and Tifa tipped her head back, cracking her spine to see Jessie scrambling down from the main building and the open landing window to the flat-roofed extension.

"What is it? Is something wrong?" There was the potential for a great deal of trouble; everything from a wandering SOLDIER in the bar to explosives residue in the beer to one of Marlene's thankfully rare tantrums. Tifa stretched her arms over her head, pulling the tension out of her shoulders and wondering when she'd got so used to this level of stress.

"Nah." Jessie dropped down beside her with a sigh, kicking her legs out over the drop. "I finally got done with the wiring. You ready for tomorrow?"

"Of course." Tifa made a fist, staring down at the solid white of her knuckles. "It'll be good just to get out of the city."

"It's been a while, huh?" Jessie kicked the side of the building softly, shaking her head at the dull, shuddery sound. "This isn't a place for people to live, but try telling them that."

"The Shinra have taken everything else they had," Tifa murmured, flexing her fingers thoughtfully. She was in good enough shape to knock a few heads tomorrow, and if they ran into a real fight the guys had plenty of firepower.

"Yeah." Making a face, Jessie reached up and untied her ponytail, shaking her hair down around her face and digging fingers into her scalp with a sigh of relief. "Always makes me feel like I'm crawling with filth, down here."

"…yeah." Tifa bit her lip, glancing sideways. "Jess…"

"Hm?" Jessie tilted her head sideways, still combing her fingers through her hair. "What is it?" The Mako-light made her eyes more green than brown, an eerie shade of hazel.

"Do –" Tifa swallowed, shaking her head and wondering whether she really wanted to know. "Who was that girl who brought the message, anyway?"

"Huh?" Jessie frowned, then blinked. "Oh, Ella? She's been in Avalanche a while, you know. A lot of her, um, customers work for Shinra, and she sometimes gets some good info."

"Oh." Tifa plaited her fingers together, chewing on that. It left an unpalatable taste, still. "So we really do have agents over there, huh? Sector Six."

"Of course." Jessie slanted her a curious look, pulling one knee up to prop her foot on the edge of the wall. "There're Avalanche sympathisers and informants everywhere, T. What's wrong?"

"…nothing, I suppose." Tifa shook her head, looking down at her lap. "It just seems – I thought we were supposed to be the ethical ones, but if we're using the street girls aren't we just as bad as the Shinra? Sector Six…"

"T?" Jessie sounded more curious than anything, and Tifa jumped when blunt fingers wrapped around her hand, squeezing gently. "You know we don't recruit; everyone who joins up does it for a reason, right? Saving the Planet…"

"I know." Tifa ducked her head, refusing to look at her. "It's just…" How many times, since she'd come to Midgar, had she been propositioned by guys too drunk to tell Six from Seven? How many times had the pimps and madams accosted her at the market, trying to trap her into selling herself for them? She'd lost count of the times she'd had to break heads, the perverts who'd assumed she was for sale…

"The street girls know better than anyone, probably." Jessie shifted over, offering an arm, and Tifa leaned gratefully into her warmth. "What Shinra are really like. There are a handful of 'em who'll pass on info for the right price, and a couple of agents like Ella who specialise in getting information out of the bigwigs." She laughed, shoulders shaking a little. "She's a pretty high-class girl; split with Corneo a couple of years back."

"Mm." Tifa bit her lip. "I just – if you have to do it to live, it's one thing, but selling yourself for information… Why would anyone do that?"

Jessie sighed, strands of hair dancing in the exhalation. "Well, why do we go around… blowing stuff up?" she finished in a lower voice, looking around warily despite their position. Up here, they couldn't be seen from the ground, but there were plenty of places to hide. "Just how far would you go to save the Planet, T? If you thought you had to?"

"I…" Tifa lifted her head, staring; there had been something both very tired and very knowing in Jessie's voice just then. Her stomach suddenly felt like lead. "Jess – tell me you haven't…"

"Nah." Jessie laughed a little, but the sound was too brittle. "I wouldn't have the skills, you know? The worst I've done is flirt with a few guys in bars." She twisted sideways to peer up at Tifa, batting her lashes artlessly and murmuring in a suddenly throaty voice, "So how're you doing tonight?"

"Jess…" Tifa swallowed the lump in her throat, shaking her head. Jessie laughed a little more freely, looking down at herself.

"Generally I'd need more of a push-up bra for that." She sobered, looking back out at the grim green-tinged vista. "It was my choice, T. We needed the info more than we did my dignity back then. You should think about it, you know."

"I…" Tifa began, flinching; Jessie patted her on the shoulder apologetically, shaking her head.

"I didn't mean that." Sighing, she twisted a long strand of Tifa's hair around her finger. "You're young, T, but someday you'll have to figure out just how far you're willing to go for Avalanche." She didn't add or your life, but they both heard it, Tifa with a shudder.

"…Someday," she echoed under her breath, trying to stem the flood of inky memories. How far would she really go for the Planet? ….How far would she go for her father, her friends, her village? The wondering felt like knives inside her, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"Maybe not ever, if you're lucky." Jessie sighed, stroking her hair absently. Tifa snuggled into her side, winding an arm around her and thinking again of the lewd invitation she'd seen in the eyes of that woman – Ella, she corrected herself. Maybe she had overreacted; she was used to being thought attractive, but Midgar was so different from home. Seedier, darker, freer. Was it changing her?

"I don't have that kind of luck," Tifa murmured, turning her face into Jessie's shoulder as though she could burrow into her warmth, never have to let go. Slipping certainties… how far would she go for herself? Jessie's fingers brushed her ribs and she flushed, glad to hide her face.

"Don't knock yourself, T." Jessie hugged her tight, then sighed, letting go and leaning back on her hands. "You're pretty good at kicking sense into anyone who looks at you funny, anyway. Think you're ready for tomorrow?"

"…Yeah." Tifa nodded shortly, dipping her head so that her hair fell forward, half-loose from its binding and hiding her face. She clenched her fist experimentally, feeling the rhythmic tensing of muscle; the one strength she'd never thought to doubt. Ready or not, she was in Avalanche for the long run. "Save the Planet, right?"

There would be time. For the Planet, for herself.

crossposted from yuri_challenge, mark 1

2007-06-30T21:26:56Z

Title: Interweaving
Rating: PG
Request: Kingdom Hearts: Kairi/Namine - Skin - misuse of mirrors
Summary: It's a strange thing, she's discovered, to be two.
Notes: 1317 words. The mirrors thing is borrowed from Terry Pratchett.

Interweaving

Summer is long since over, and they are all weeks late for the start of school. Riku treats the year's worth of make-up work like a penance, grim and silent, while Sora complains that they ought to get extra credit for saving the world. While they wrestle with algebra and history and the theory of synthesis, Kairi spends her evenings sitting on the edge of the pier and watching the sun set behind their island. Sometimes she threads shells together into chains and charms, or fishes with a hand line. Mostly, though, she talks with Naminé.

It's a strange thing, she's discovered, to be two. Sometimes when she sleeps, the edges blur and she dreams in pieces of memory that are not hers, scraps and fragments that are sometimes murky, sometimes dark and incomprehensible. Kairi thinks she recognises Sora's memories, and Riku's, but Naminé is always silent and withdrawn on those nights, a stillness within.

Slowly, Kairi is becoming used to the sensation of her Nobody living beneath her skin, looking out of her eyes. Naminé rarely separates from her entirely, though they have seen Roxas sitting alone and translucent on the beach sometimes, when the setting sun turns the sea to fire. She seems content to watch the world, safe and hidden within Kairi's heart, though sometimes Kairi worries whether the situation is entirely fair.

"I am a part of you," Naminé murmurs through her lips, hands folding neatly together in her lap. "This is all I could have asked for."

"But is it what you want?" Kairi wonders, lifting a hand to smooth back strands of hair that are whipping in the wind off the sea. For a moment, she sees flecks of colour beneath her short nails, wax and paint forever caught in time.

"I exist, now." Kairi feels Naminé smile, through and with her. "I, you, we – this, I think, is my happy ending. Or, at least, as close as a Nobody may come."

"You're not a Nobody any more, though." The wind has cooled with sunset; Kairi pushes herself to her feet, picking up her schoolbag and starting for home. "You were expecting to fade away, but you never had any darkness, Naminé. Neither of us do."

This time, Naminé's smile remains on the inside, for Kairi alone. "You are the Princess of Heart, yes. I am merely your shadow, and content so, after so long apart."

Bowing her head with a smile, Kairi waves a greeting to her father, who is entangled in a discussion with a group of fishermen, and slips through the front gate before they can notice and detain her. "Was it so bad?"

To be without a heart? Naminé says silently, a hum in the back of Kairi's throat as she hops up the porch steps. It is as if – as if one is screaming into the wind, forever unheard and unfelt, even by oneself. A Nobody stands on the edge of nothingness; not darkness, but void. Non-existence. Kairi cannot tell whether the shiver that hunches her shoulders is hers alone, or her Nobody's.

"What would have happened to me, without you?" she wonders aloud as she rounds the corner of the house, heading for the side door so that she won't get accosted by the school board if they're using the front meeting rooms tonight.

"I do not know," Naminé murmurs. "Your light was strong enough to sustain you, while Sora slept."

"And now I have you." Kairi smiles, shaking her hair back as she pushes the door open and steps inside. Almost immediately, her eyes are drawn to the new and unfamiliar: the enamelled mirror from the front hall has been moved in here, hung opposite its shell-framed mate so that Kairi can see herself reflected back and forth endlessly into the distance. It's unusual, but not alarming, and she's startled to feel Naminé recoil almost violently, withdraw and burrow inwards until Kairi cannot feel her presence at all.

Naminé? she calls, trying to reach into herself, find her Nobody. There is no reply, only an empty silence, and Kairi stares at her own face reflected in the glass, seeing only her own sky-blue eyes and ruddy hair.

"Naminé?" she whispers, clutching at the strap of her bag; she jumps when her mother speaks from the kitchen door.

"Who's that, dear?"

Nobody. My Nobody. Myself. "A friend." She smiles for her mother, hands automatically transferring her bag to its peg by the door. "I just remembered something, that's all. Hi, Mom."

"Well, it can wait, can't it?" Her mother pats her hair back, stepping back into the kitchen. "I've got dinner on the table, and it's bad enough that your father's always late…"

"Sure, Mom." Kairi clasps her hands to hide the way her fingers are twitching, wondering at how strange it is to be without Naminé now. Even when they separate themselves, she can still feel her Nobody there, emotions that echo her own in different colours. She's grown so used to being an us…

Dinner is quiet and slightly strained, and even though she's hungry Kairi finds it difficult to eat. She keeps catching herself staring blankly at her plate, waiting for Naminé's voice, her presence, the warm shadow of another beneath her skin. She's grateful when her father wanders in, grumbling to himself about fishing rights, because it gives her an excuse to slip away upstairs, giving the paired mirrors in the hallway a wide-eyed and uneasy glance as she passes.

Shutting her door firmly behind her, Kairi stares into her own mirror, at her face framed between familiar photographs of Sora and Riku, the children they had been. Usually, the pictures make her smile, but she can see worry in her own eyes.

"Naminé?" she whispers, uncertain; it's a relief to feel her Nobody stir, slowly, within. "What's wrong?"

Naminé is silent, but Kairi thinks she can see her peering out through her eyes. Nodding slowly, she turns and sinks down onto the bed, stretching out along the wall so that there is space for another beside her. After a second, she feels Naminé settle back into her accustomed place beneath her skin, as close as her own heartbeat.

"DiZ said that a witch should avoid mirrors," Naminé murmurs through her mouth at last; it is so clearly part of a story that Kairi remains silent, waiting.

"He was accustomed to using them to amplify magic – paired mirrors, which reflect many times. Either he did not mind the price, or a Nobody simply has too little self to spare."

"I'll ask Mom to put it back in the front hall," Kairi promises, turning onto her side and pillowing her head on her arm. "If it hurts you."

"It is not painful." Naminé slides out of her, curling up beside her on the bed; Kairi reaches out to take her hand, ignoring the way their fingers merge slightly as they twine them together. "Only stretched – as though I could fade to nothing, or be lost among my reflections." I am not real enough, in myself, to step outside my mirror.

"You won't fade." Kairi squeezes her hand, tucking it close between their breasts, against her heart. "You're part of me, now, remember?"

"Yes." Naminé smiles, laying her forehead against Kairi's and closing her eyes. This close, Kairi can see the faint outlines of room and furniture through her; she closes her own eyes, kissing Naminé's cheek, then the corner of her mouth. There is no need to fear, and she can't tell whose words they are but she holds her other self close anyway, cocoons them into a shared world of reflected emotion and warmth.

"I am where I belong," Naminé murmurs against her lips, and Kairi smiles acknowledgement as they melt slowly back together, Naminé settling beneath her skin, behind her closed eyes. She has enough heart to share, after all.

in which I ramble on about KH meta and quite probably contradict myself

2007-05-09T01:01:21Z

I've been thinking about these issues for a while now - specifically, what harukami mentioned about Riku's line to Xemnas ("You mess up our worlds") and whether Nobodies and their agenda can be counted as, if not evil then inimical. Also, about the power structure of the 'other side' and where Maleficent stands in the bigger picture. And what is the bigger picture, anyway?

The Disney paradigm (as reflected in Kingdom Hearts) is one of Good versus Evil, no exceptions allowed. No shades of grey. Lust for power belongs to the Evil side, and villains are usually portrayed as distanced from humanity, whether by caricature (Hook; Clayton; Jafar ver. 1) or by nature (Hades is blue and fiery; Oogie Boogie is a walking sack; Maleficent is whatever she is; Ursula is much less human-shaped than Ariel or Triton). This can be seen most clearly in Beauty and the Beast, where an unkind and cruel personality is shown as a mark of inhumanity; in order to be redeemed, the Beast must learn to act humanely.

The paradigm shifts a little in KH2, which introduces three villains who both fit and do not fit the mould: Shan-Yu in the Land of Dragons, who is superficially human but marked out by his eyes and cruelty; Scar in the Pride Lands, who isn't at all human but is marked out as different from the other lions by his appearance; Barbossa in Port Royal, who appears human until the moonlight strikes him. All weigh in on the Evil end of the scale, whereas Good characters such as the disney heroes (I'm also lumping Mickey in here, because while Donald and Goofy conform more to the Square paradigm, Mickey walks the darkness untouched and untempted) may waver or be tempted by the other side, but always side with Good in the end.

The Good/Evil paradigm allows for no shades of grey - Evil is done for Evil's sake alone, as in the case of Maleficent, or in pursuit of power. Disney villains have no scruples, and certainly do not justify means with ends or consider themselves misunderstood workers of good.

In contrast, the Square paradigm embodied in the original and Final Fantasy crossover characters (as part of the main party, Donald and Goofy are included here) is all about shades of grey. Nomura and co, after all, are famed for their sympathetic villains and their portrayal of descent into inhumanity. In this worldview, protagonist does not necessarily mean traditionally Good, and antagonists are frequently people who have been sidelined or abused by society, or who believe they are doing the right thing. Visibly inhumanity, outside of final boss battles, is usually confined to minor traits. It's a world where mistakes are made, and good people die, and being from the dark or nonhuman does not define your character. Each character has their own journey, and their role in the story can change as a result of this.

Kingdom Hearts exists in tension between these two worldviews. One begins each game in the Disney paradigm, with a simple Good versus Evil structure with the Heartless as inhuman, unredeemable monsters. The early bosses are almost invariably Disney villains, whose weaknesses are their lust for power and overconfidence. Later in the games, the paradigm shifts more towards the Square side of the equation; while Sora must fight against his best friend in KH1 (early on he tells Riku that he has "picked the wrong side", which indicates a black and white view of what is a complex motivation), in KH2 Organisation XIII's motives are complex and misunderstood from the start. The Disneyfied version of the story which Yen Sid gives Sora at the beginning (contrasted with Namine's "Good or bad; I don't know. They're a group of incomplete people who wish to be whole") is what forms his opinion of Nobodies as intrinsically 'bad', and the reason behind his wholesale attempts at genocide.

[This, along with the KH2/fm+ secret endings, suggests that as the universe continues the dominant paradigm is shifting more towards the Square side, with more complexity in characterisation and motivation. Which definitely intrigues me as to what's coming next :D ]

The point, in any case, is that when Riku speaks of Nobodies messing up worlds, he's talking from a standpoint which sees Nobody existence, coming from the darkness, as Evil. Whether he's actually correct in his assertion is another matter entirely, but it's likely that he's speaking what he believes to be the truth.

As harukami pointed out, the overwhelming majority of messing up of worlds is done by Heartless. While the games try to tell you that Maleficent is the one controlling the Heartless, I believe a closer look at the issue is called for.

First, it's an undeniable fact that there are an awful lot of new Heartless species in KH2 which do not appear in KH1 or CoM. While there appears to be no evidence one way or another on whether Heartless can speciate by evolution or mutation, there is (1) a conspicuous lack of many of the very common Heartless species from KH1, and (2) several new species that are clearly based on the old. Since we clearly cannot blame this on the designers while thinking within the created universe, it must be either an evolution/mutation (in which case I would expect to see more of the originals around) or a deliberate design on the part of someone. We know, after all, that Heartless can be created - hearts tainted with darkness and put into synthetic shells. The Heartless manufactory in KH1 was presumably used by Maleficent in KH1, but in KH2 it isn't used at all outside of the MCP emergency. If it had been used during the CoM timeskip, it's reasonable to think that Leon or one of the others would have mentioned or referred to it.

Another fact is that Xemnas and other higher Nobodies can summon Heartless. Saix mentions that they ally with whoever is strongest, which may be important; more on that later. The assault on Hollow Bastion is particularly interesting because of the high presence of Nobodies - Dancers, Creepers, and Dusks, then Demyx, and finally Xemnas at the bottom of the ravine. Note that the Heartless stand still and wait until Xemnas is done talking to the party. It's entirely circumstantial, but it suggests that Xemnas might be behind the assault - especially since sending 1000 Heartless at Sora equals a lot of material for Kingdom Hearts.

Third, Xemnas and his original cronies (who are down to Xigbar and Xaldin in KH2) have the knowledge and the technology to create hearts, and by extension Heartless. As I said, circumstantial, but not in the realm of the impossible.

Now, to Maleficent, who in the Kingdom Hearts-verse is the strongest of the Disney villains, and the leader of their little cabal. Rather than doing Evil in pursuit of power, Maleficent works for Evil as an end in itself, though of course she doesn't turn down power when it's presented to her. Rather, she sees herself as the ultimate force of Evil, and hence as more powerful than she actually is in a world that isn't wholly ruled by the Disney paradigm.

While Maleficent thinks a lot of herself, there are signs that all is not what it seems here. Her level of personal power, to judge from the initial boss fight in KH1, is not particularly high. In comparison, Ansem (Xehanort's Heartless, in possession of Riku and in the final battles) and the Organisation members Sora encounters are all much stronger and more dangerous. The dragon is something of an anomaly, being an uninhibited Maleficent augmented by darkness, and even so its primary strength is in its relentless attacks. I've always found Ansem/Riku a much harder fight, but that may be a personal quirk. XD

Contributing to the idea that Maleficent is far less significant than she thinks herself is Riku himself. Upon entering the castle at Hollow Bastion, Sora fights a Riku who has been taught by Maleficent - and while he's significantly stronger than he was at home, he's still an easy fight. In order to become strong enough to threaten Sora, Riku opens his heart to 'Ansem', who gives him the strength that Maleficent, it appears, could not.

Ansem, we are given to understand in KH1, is the one who loosed the plague of Heartless into the worlds, and is trying to smother them all in ultimate darkness. He also, according to the Ansem Reports, is capable of controlling Heartless (because he is one). I find it curious that Maleficent appears to be working towards his goal, because it's never explained why she should be doing so other than her quest to further Evil. While it's concievable that she could have gathered the idea from the Ansem Reports, she only has half of them. [Note to self: look up what's actually said in the ones she has...] Ansem at least has some rationale, with his talk of the heart's true essence. Taking that alongside Xemnas' view of hearts as power, one could believe that Xehanort was searching for the true power of the heart in Kingdom Hearts. Of course, as a Heartless, we can also presume that his overriding impulse is to drag other hearts into darkness.

In KH2, Maleficent is even less of a significant player. It's shown that she has a limited ability to control the Heartless (TWTNW; flood of Shadows into Ruin and Creation's Passage), seemingly dependent on the ambient darkness (and possibly whether she herself is the strongest force of darkness in the area). As Saix says, the Heartless ally with the strongest, and we know that Maleficent is far from the strongest antagonist in this game. The Organisation would have little reason to interfere with her, however, because by throwing Heartless at Sora she is assisting in the creation of Kingdom Hearts. It's also interesting to note that in this more Square-aligned game, she has little to no motivation apart from the pursuit of power (hence her desire for a castle).

The most interesting thing about KH2 Maleficent, however, is that her methods align with the Organisation's just as they did with 'Ansem's' in KH1. Why she should be seeking to create extremely strong Heartless from main characters is not adequately explained, especially since the Heartless that we see her summon and control in-game are usually of the decidedly weaker species. She seems, again, to be overestimating her strength and importance.

Again, it's circumstantial, but a weak villain unknowingly and repeatedly working in the interests of the strong does rather suggest that some manipulation is taking place here. Maleficent's modus operandi in KH2 seems to be the turning of situations to her advantage, and one significant incident of this is the door to Timeless River that appears from nowhere in apparent response to Pete's emo. This is the trigger for the invasion of Disney Castle, which is in essence the symbol of pure Good (the thought occurs that Minnie was unable to contact Mickey, and that we know he spent time in the dark world at some point in the first half of the game, investigating Xemnas...), but the crucial detail is that Sora's door had to be created by a powerful sorcerer. Portals in time, it seems, take some serious magic - so where did Pete's door (which was so very convenient for Maleficent and resulted in a major distraction for Sora and the killing of large numbers of Heartless) come from?

And then, of course, there's this short story which was apparently released with Final Mix+. Never let it be said that Nomura doesn't give the fans what they want. But, more to the point, it shows Xemnas sending Axel and Roxas to Hollow Bastion, where they release a crow from a cage. If that's not a very heavy implication that they're using Maleficent, I don't know what is.

What are the ramifications of this? If true (and since it hasn't been outright stated, it is of course open to interpretation), it implies that the Organisation, in their search for an existence to call their own, could actually be behind the majority of the deliberate Heartless incursions into the worlds. And if so, then Riku's accusation rings true after all, even if in a backwards fashion.

It is, of course, a thought. My pet theory, somewhat less substantiated, is that someone other than Xemnas and co cranked out all those shiny new Heartless in KH2 and has been manipulating Maleficent all through the series; someone having to do with (a) Xehanort's past, (b) the other castle in Hollow Bastion, (c) Xemnas's 'that man' in Final Mix+, and (d) the secret endings.

...I realise that the likelihood of this being utter bullshit is comparatively high, but I find the idea intriguing.

Tangentially related to those secret endings, it occurs to me that Sora, Riku, and Kairi have no dangling plot threads from which to tie another game. KH2 fixes everything that was broken about their lives and relationships, and brings them full circle, so I'm finding myself giving an alarming amount of credence to those rumours about announcements that they won't be in 3. There are a lot of unanswered questions, yes, but they all relate to Xehanort and the apprentices. Kairi's background could possibly fit in there, and while that line from KH1 about opening the door to the light could refer to the end of KH2, I suppose it could be something else entirely. But honestly, that seems like a stretch to me, and not a lot to base a character arc on. :| Legacy from the Keyblade war, if it did indeed happen in the past (as it seems; Xigbar mentions keyblade bearers, and Triton bangs on about them bringing ruin and destruction in KH1)? That's still far more plot-driven than it is character-driven, and that's been one of the main strengths of the OT3 story. I'm going to worry about it now.

KH2 ramblings

2007-04-21T23:32:04Z

Interesting Things I've noticed on this playthrough, which may or may not have any significance.

- I still have no idea what the second castle in Hollow Bastion (in the Dark Depths) is all about, but it looks like the jumbled bits of architecture all around it have actually been sucked in. And the castle itself looks more organic than built, up to and including the Heartless symbol. There's a reaction command at the Bailey that lets you look out on 'Villains' Vale, where Maleficent resided', with a view down towards the castle in the Depths. But it wasn't there in KH1, which just had the clockwork castle that's now behind the town. Which we know was the original castle of Radiant Garden, because it has Ansem's study in. *scratches head*

- In the foyer of the Twilight Town mansion, there's a glass case in the centre containing some kind of model. The reaction command gives you 'The castle object is crumbling.' The object in question looks more like the Dark Depths castle than the original castle.

- In the Basement Corridor of the mansion you can examine the pods Donald and Goofy were sleeping in. There are four or five other pods there, though, and when you examine them you get the following:

'There's evidence that this was used before.'
'This hasn't been used in a while.'
'Who built this? And for what purpose?'

Interesting question~

- Almost all of the decoration in the Castle That Never Was is made up of geometric patterns and the Nobody symbol. There are a few abstract pole/spear type objects that resemble radio antennae, and some panels and objects that resemble circuitry. In the Hall of Empty Melodies, though, there are wings. Triple black wings above the door you enter by, and double white wings above the door you exit by. Plus what looks like some stylised weapons - in the way that several of the Org. have weapons basen on a spiked circle. The overall effect reminds me of the throne-and-armour guy in the final battle, for some reason.

- Xigbar: "You've really put Organisation XIII in a pickle. I guess that must be why the Keyblade chose you. But MAN, did it pick a dud this time. You don't look like you're half the hero the others were."

...what others? When did he meet them? If the speculation that the secret ending is set in the past is right, then that would imply that he was there, or at the very least involved in whatever happened. 面白い～

- After you beat Saix, when you're wandering around his room that I forget the pretentious name of, you can talk to Goofy and get something along the lines of "This is an interesting castle. I wonder who built it, and why?"

- What the heck is that red and purple mist flowing down from the top of the one tower? It doesn't seem to be coming from the place you meet Xemnas.

- What's with Xemnas and the cityscapes? The first battle with him is set up to resemble the Roxas/Riku fight, but the cityscape background illusion isn't from the WTNW. There's just an awful lot of city imagery associated with him, and considering that the tower's called Memory's Skyscraper, I sort of wonder if it's associated with Xehanort's lost past somehow.

Anyway. Progress!

...somehow in between hunting for items and levelling summons and forms I managed to hit level 85. Uh. Maxed out the summons so I never have to use them again (thank god), then wandered around using drives a whole lot in search of Final Form. Didn't realise I'd actually got it for a good thirty seconds, because I was in Halloween Town. >.> Was eventually clued in by the fact that I was minus 1 Donald and plus 1 kingdom key. Theeen I killed a whole load of Nobodies and got Final up to level 5 for Glide 2. And then I went to Twilight Town and spent for bloody ever putting up posters for the journal. Eventually managed 30 seconds on the dot and jesus christ never again. >| Did a bunch of the other minigame challenges, too, but the magic carpet thing in Agrabah defeated me. I can't get higher than 51, when I need 65. *kicks Jiminy*

Next goal: go kill some Saix, since I'm now way overlevelled here. >.>

kasoku @ 2007-04-19T02:31:00

2007-04-19T01:51:47Z

...so Aeris is going :( at me due to lack of Zack and/or Cloud, even though I've already written the part where Cloud comes back (straight out of the ending credits, ahaha) and I was going back and filling in this one scene. Aughwhy. *sniffles*

Today I have: run around Twilight Town killing Nobodies for items and doing journal stuff. The Struggle stuff was plain sailing (full 200 every match up to Seifer), but oh wow yup I still suck at mini-games. Not as badly as the snowboarding in FF7 (total fail every. damn. time.), but despite having made it to 200 on the ball thing once before I couldn't get past 45 today. :< The worst minigames ever are in FFX-2, though, with the lightning tower calibration games. I sort of have critical fail on telling left from right; it's always a conscious process of oh hey, this hand is the left one. Flashing boxes telling me to hit L1 and R1 defeat me. *facepalm*

I have also: finished Mideel in FF7. Which would be the Inside Cloud's Head scenes. :( It seems like every time I play through that I like game/pregame-Tifa less, which bothers me even though know it's part of her development - she grows up a hell of a lot through the timeline. I feel like I ought to like her because I do in AC. :|

Also I forgot you have to fight the Ultimate WEAPON before the Lifestream part. Oops.

KH ficlet: No Reply

2007-04-12T23:16:20Z

640 words, hints of Roxas/Axel; pre-KH2; PG/worksafe
I call and there's no reply/like some phantom cry/on ears too far away

No Reply

"No one would miss me." He's walking away, and the hollow space within you is aching in a way that it never has, a whole new emptiness.

"That's not true!" There's no point to it, though; you know too well how much determination is packed into that small body, and the kid's made his decision. "…I would."

He's gone, though, blond hair fading into the distance like he's being swallowed by the darkness. Like he's used up what little life and light he started with – ironic; your mouth stretches into a wide and utterly humourless smile, rictus.

He's always been the only one who could burn you.

"Ch'." You kick absently at the prowling Shadows when they get too close, thinking fast. It's not like you give a fuck for the Superiority Complex and his plans; it's not like anything in this place is worth much to you. It's not like Kingdom Hearts'll be any use with your only ticket to feeling something on his way out.

It's not like Xemnas cares what you think. Your job is traitor-retrieval, occasionally disposal when it's worth it, when you can twist the situation to warrant it. When the stakes have been blond and blue-eyed and vicious in a fight.

So it's either go after Roxas, or be sent. And if you happen to slip into the corridor along with the kid – well, by the time they realise it, you'll both be well away. Roxas doesn't do calculating half as well as he does bludgeoning with keys; it's why you work together.

Work well together. You grin, vicious now, and flame licks around the hem of your robe as you start to walk, twitching balls of Shadow writhing themselves to ash in your wake.

Halfway down the Avenue to Forgetfulness, thunder cracks overhead and it starts to rain. Swearing, you take to the edges of the streets, kicking Heartless from your path as the damp begins to soak through your hair. Up ahead, you can feel the presence of the Neoshadows beneath the skyscraper, a clot of darkness that will have delayed Roxas – the kid never could resist a fight. Enough of a delay to let you find an overhang, dry yourself out a little – in case anyone needs incinerating, later. The water's enough of a pain that even the simplest magics become complicated, and it's beyond hilarious that Demyx has never figured out that he could actually get you back for all those…

Change; a new darkness in the air, familiar and growing, and you begin to swear as you realise that it's been there all along, faint in the distance. This one, you recognise too well, and you are running before thought can catch up, chilled with more than the rain. When the darkness explodes across your senses, you know that you're not the only one feeling this; there will be Sorcerers flooding down from the heights of the castle, Saix no doubt hot on their heels and isn't it just luck that dark corridors within the City are so fucking erratic?

You know even before you burst into the plaza that you are too late; all you see is a retreating back, black-cloaked, and the faint glimmer of blond hair disappearing into darkness. Your chakrams glance and ricochet off the wall of a building, and you close your eyes, letting them dissipate. Minutes – seconds! – too fucking late, and your last chance at being a real boy is gone, probably for good. Samurai and Assassins and Dusks crowd around you, spinning themselves into curious existence and awaiting instructions; a phalanx of Sorcerers glides into the square, and if there was ever any doubt then it's truly too late, now. For both of you.

When Xemnas sends you after the newest traitor, you grin and salute, because it's the beginning of the end, either way.

kasoku @ 2007-04-11T21:34:00

2007-04-11T20:41:58Z

Someone tell Zack to stop being so damn hot. *incoherent flailing*

Screencapped from the official Crisis Core site. Which is new.

KH fanbabble

2007-04-01T07:19:22Z

- re: this FM+ cutscene translation:

...okay so.

Zexion: [...] I just want us to have a little fun talk about, say, Xemnas' secret. How many years ago was it? People with the blade of keys started to appear and fought great battles. When they were gone, a man who had lost his memories appeared. Xemnas... no... Xehanort was taken in by Ansem around that time, was he not?

Okay, I can't find the original source for this translation (possibly because I'm not a forum member at KHU), but that? Yeah, at this point I would put money on the secret ending being in the past. Also given the Zexion-alike blue-haired... androgyne? I'm wondering if Ienzo might not have more to do with Xehanort's secret history than being a fellow apprentice.

- re: implied canon relationships in KH1/2, retarded symbolism, and ot3:

I just watched the ending cutscene again and was struck by something. KH1 has a Sora/Kairi focus, setting it up versus Riku/Kairi; KH2 takes the Sora/Kairi a step further in terms of relationships, but at the same time the Sora/Riku is much more the focus of the game.

And then the ending, with the message in a bottle and the door to the light. And - really, the only explanation I can come up with for that is that it's Kairi's heart. She's the Princess, after all, and if they can open the door to darkness then light should be easy for them. I assume she was reacting to Sora, anyway - triggered by the reaction of his heart (and oh hey, Roxas has light powers...) to the letter, or whatever. But yeah, it's pretty easy to see the door as a manifestation of Kairi's heart.

Yeah, I just wanted to point out that Sora and Riku going through together is hitting all my OT3 buttons. And so's the part where Sora said it - "we'll go together", almost like a reassurance.

kasoku @ 2007-03-29T02:48:00

2007-03-29T02:01:26Z

...radical layout overhaul. also I fail at actually posting here

KH: Going through 2 yet again on normal mode to do the journal things. Also playing CoM on and off for great illegality, and currently getting my ass handed to me (repeatedly) by Repliku v4.

FFVII: I'm doing a playthrough for the express purpose of getting a whole lot of save points in various places. For. No particular reason. >.> Currently wandering round the Gold Saucer area before going to Gongaga (wah, Zack's parents. Wah, Aeris.). Trying to get Yuffie's 2/1 limit break, dammit. Also Cloud's 3/1, because Aeris has hers by now and that's just kind of weird.

Also contemplating getting Crisis Core in Japanese, mostly for the voices but also because on Amazon Japanese PSPs come out forty or fifty quid cheaper than British. And we'll be lucky to get the game at all, here. >| Need to look up shipping and import charges, though.

kasoku @ 2007-02-23T06:12:00

2007-02-23T06:52:09Z

...okay so I beat KH2 again just now, on Proud Mode this time, and. fdjy;fjdfkds what. During the prologue I had some trouble; the Twilight Thorn took me a couple of goes, and so did some of the Struggle battles. >.> Except then after getting Sora I did not die in a single fight, with the understandable exception of Sephiroth. Not even the bossfights that took me multiple tries the first time round on normal mode! which were, uh, Demyx and Final Xemnas. It... didn't even feel significantly more difficult, really, until I got to Seph, and he took off 90% of my lifebar with one combo. And... yeah, five tries, which I note is still slightly less than it took me on normal mode. wtfwtfwtf.

...Seph was so much fun, though. In that way where when you finally manage to flatten him you're wrung out and shaking. :)) I... yeah, first time I tried it he crushed me like a bug in under a minute, hee. Once I finally got the hang of it, though (I find that staying in close, hitting him as much as you can, and occasionally running like hell is a pretty good strategy), I ended up only using two elixirs. I love Aerial Dodge. fjkdlhfj :)) but the last five minutes had me worried, because I had him down to one HP and he would not let me finish a combo. I think I had to heal twice before I finally managed to catch him off guard. And I still think that glowing-and-flying-off-together thing is the shippiest thing ever :))

And, uh, Final Xemnas very nearly killed me a couple of times. >.> jfklfhdkj do I have a really steep learning curve on this or something? 'Cause yeah, I'm told it's a fairly easy game, and that's why I redid it in Proud Mode*, but. FFX and X-2 are killing me a whole damn lot, and KH1 did too. *baffled*

*well, that and I'm way too lazy to complete the damn journal just to see the secret ending. Which... ahaha wtf Nomura, you cryptic bastard. Apparently you've been hinting that the armour people aren't Sora/Riku/Kairi? Because, well, there are two short people with Kingdom Keys, one of whom is female and therefore probably not Mickey, and one tall person, who has Way To The Dawn. Which... yeah, I'm gonna take some convincing that they're not either the ot3 themselves or in some way connected to them a la Roxas & Namine. Although I do wonder whether there's a connection to Armoured!Throne!Xemnas in the final battle.

In conclusion, man I love these games.

kasoku @ 2007-02-04T09:34:00

2007-02-04T09:47:11Z

And done. possibly it says something about me that I'd rather go back through on Proud Mode than complete the journal~

...yeah, I'm. Really bad at endings. I cried. Hikari totally caught me off guard. *sniffles*

kasoku @ 2007-02-04T03:31:00

2007-02-04T03:47:44Z

fjdladjsfdkls; what.

I. Beat Seph. Sixth try, I think, and I'd been sucking so badly up to that point that I really really wasn't expecting it. O_O ♥♥♥ for the Showdown of Fate cutscene thingy, though. *writes fics*

aaaaand since I'm like level 96 wtfwtf I think it's probably time to finish this.

...up to the Calm Lands in FFX, whacking things and trying to level up. Still sucking horrendously at this Blitzball thing~

kasoku @ 2007-01-20T03:29:00

2007-01-20T03:56:55Z

...okay, I think this game really is a little too easy. I died twice because I was too slow at Demyx's fifty-water-forms thing, and that's been it - nothing else has killed me, full stop. I've only even had one near miss, down-to-a-couple-of-HP moment, for heaven's sake. And I'm up to the point of no return, just before the final battles. Something is not quite right here; KH1 got me very accustomed to taking three or four tries for every boss (at least the first time through), and occasionally dying by accident when ganged up on by Heartless.

There's also the part where I'm almost at level 90, but I haven't actually made any effort at all to level up; it's just happened almost by accident while I've been hunting for items and Final Form. I have Ultima Weapon now, though, which means I'll be eating my words tomorrow, because. It's Sephiroth time. :D

...yeah, I've started again on Proud Mode, too, and not only do I have Roxas back, but the very first bossfight took me two goes. That's more like it.

kasoku @ 2007-01-08T15:48:00

2007-01-08T16:15:23Z

fjlkashfjdskkal! *flails* I'm. Nearly up to Demyx? And. I'm just thinking okay, the game's sent me back to the Postern, I shall save before getting my ass kicked, and then. Glowy light! Deja vu! What the hell no way holy shit Sephiroth what?! And then I'm busy having hysterics* because the walkthrough didn't mention this and they all keep feeding me slashy lines and Seph's all 'so Cloud wants to see me again >3' and will no one spare a thought for my sanity here?

* this is why I am a spoiler whore, and why I like me some walkthrough. Unexpected Sephiroths tend to make me shriek, flail and hyperventilate. Also, based on last night's evidence, unexpected Clouds, Axels, and Antiforms. In the interests of everyone else's eardrums, I prefer to anticipate these things and prepare myself for them.

Yeah, yeah, best laid plans - on the other computer for work. Sigh.

and so it begins [KHII :D]

2007-01-04T17:31:27Z

...I want Roxas back. :(

Sora keeps making me laugh, mostly by being so very Sora, but I haven't quite got used to the change in his voice yet. I think I've got the hang of the gameplay, though. I just got into Yen Sid's tower, and I'm anticipating a strong desire to kill him (or at least wring him out a little).

kasoku @ 2007-01-03T03:07:00

2007-01-03T03:07:03Z

fjkhvajfjsk finally finally finally done with the chapter. Augh. That should not have taken so long, but RL and holidays ~~and playing X2, yeah~~ sort of got in the way a lot. On to the next chapter and plausible relationship buildup!

...it occurs to me that I broke 40k somewhere in this chapter, anyway. woohoo?

kasoku @ 2006-12-16T17:59:00

2006-12-16T17:59:08Z

I. Um. Holy shit.

I beat Seph. I'm still kind of going O_O here, really. Wasn't expecting that; it was the first time I've even got him down to yellow lifebar, I think. Whoa.

ETA: wtfwtfwtf twice in a row holy shiiiit.

kasoku @ 2006-12-14T01:58:00

2006-12-14T01:58:57Z

Crisis Core pictures underneath the KH2FM and there's Cloud! Actual Cloud! Zack and Cloud, even. *flails and dies*

fjdsdk now I want to write Zack-and-Cloud fic, which means I need to get through this Seph pov.