#this is very ''old man yells at cloud strife'' for me

[kingofdoma]

so i watched someone play the ffxvi demo yesterday, and...

[they2aproblem]

Post #010: Final Fantasy 7: Old Man Yells At Cloud(Strife)

Ahh... he said it! He said the thing!!!

Let’s do the thing that the title of this blog is named for.  Let me be the old man yelling at Cloud Strife.  Final Fantasy 7 for a generation of gamers was their first RPG.  For me it was much different, my first RPG was Super Mario RPG.  It wasn’t until I was 20 when I first played this game in 2005 because of the hype surrounding this game.  This hype resulted in massive sales in physical, digital, and now the current remakes coming out as I type this.  I’m going to take a deeper look at this game to see if we’re looking at the best turn-based RPG in video game history or something else entirely.

Starting with the characters, can we say these characters are well written characters?  No.  But are they poorly written characters?  Also no.  What are they?  They are average.  Cloud Strife, while not a silent protagonist does remain silent throughout most of the game only speaking when necessary.  The main love interest, Tifa Lockhart.  Does she contribute to Cloud’s story arc?  Only if you pursue her in a completely optional town in the game.  Her only saving graces is her design, a brunette with large bazongas being held in place by a black sports bra and a white tank top.  Outside of that you could choose to pursue any of the other female party members(who stay in the party).  The supporting party members, while memorable, have very little connection to the story.  The party members in the following game in the series, Final Fantasy 8, are better connected to the events of the story.  Well maybe Sephiroth, the main villain, one of gaming history’s most memorable villains, has clear motives and provides a distinct hurdle for the party to overcome.  No, he’s just a test-tube baby who was genetically modified to be the perfect soldier, resents that fact, and wants revenge on the world by destroying it with a massive asteroid.  Outside of the supernatural aspect of changing the trajectory of an asteroid, the motives of Sephiroth are very common among villains throughout gaming, movie, and television history.  What sets Sephiroth from other villains is his theme, outside of that he is otherwise just an average villain.

That’s the problem I have with Final Fantasy 7, it’s that it’s just an average game.  As I stated earlier, when this game came out in the late 90s, it ended up being a lot of gamers’ first RPG.  If this ends up being many a gamer’s first RPG, then their expectations for all future RPGs will be affected by this game.  If a company that’s not Square tries to experiment with a different leveling system these newcomers to the RPG genre aren’t going to view this change positively.  Even Square itself tried doing something different and they did with Final Fantasy 9 where they went back to a more basic gameplay of the early NES Final Fantasy, and it ended up selling worse than Final Fantasy 8.  It is regretful that Final Fantasy 7 is everyone’s measuring stick for what makes for an RPG, not for its leveling mechanics but for its storyline.  A storyline that is by the numbers and offers no plot twist.  From the onset, we know who the villain is, and we know his motives.  Which leaves no room to shock the player for any major revelations.  Square is not consistent at all in this regard.  In other iterations of Final Fantasy, Square has a hit or miss record of providing a shocking storyline.  This unfortunately leaves Final Fantasy 7 to be an average, so average that it is an average game to a fault.

[up-sideand-down]

14 and 79 for Clack? 😺

Rules: Send me two (2) tropes from this list + a ship and I’ll describe how I’d combine them in the same story.

14. Bodyguard AU

79. Anger Born of Worry

Cloud came to Midgar hoping to make it to Soldier, but failed. He kept up at it with the Infantry, training pretty hard, but instead of Soldier, he was noticed somewhere else. Cloud was shocked to be called good looking. He honestly thought he had a bad case of baby face, but the woman at the train station swore he had bone structure not found just anywhere and eyes that just pop. Did he have any acting experience. Cloud thanked her, but said no. He was in the military. She gave him a card and told him to call if he needed a career change. He brushed her off as a scammer until one of his Infantry buds picked it up. He knew her name. She was a big name. A movie producer. Cloud had to call her. They all watched as he did, reminding her he was at a train station and she said he had good bone structure and pretty eyes. She remembered him. "Want that career change?" she asked. The squad nodded at him when he looked. "I mean...sure?"

Cloud's career was slow for the first year, him mostly playing extras and a stunt double once. It left him having plenty of time to make fun of other actors with the Infantry buds. Then he got cast as a villain. It was really his first time actually acting and he more or less nailed it spectacularly. He claimed he was just imitating one of his old bosses at ShinRa (which got a lot of laughs) but his buds were obviously proud of him: hooting and hollering everytime one of his previews played. They told him he looked badass, one of the best parts of the dumb movie. He started getting a lot of fans, and the film offers piled in. He could now pick and choose more. So he did.

Cloud likes making people laugh rather than cry. He honestly thought he'd be written off as an action hero after his next two movies, but his next drama (playing the villain again, sympathetically this time) cemented the fact that he was just good at reaching people. His former training helped him to do most of his own stunts and action scenes too, making him even more popular. He didn't have as much time for the infantry buds, but still made time. They were his buds. He also likes a lot of his fans. He gets a shock when one of his fan letters is from his own personal hero. Sephiroth stating succinctly he enjoyed the movies and Cloud got an honest chuckle out of him, a hard feat apparently. Most of his fans were sweet and kind, like Sephiroth had been. One...one in particular freaked Cloud the fuck out. That feeling didn't go away after said fan sent him a dead cat and what looked like a human finger, along with an irate letter calling Cloud a "whore" for a scene in a film that was a bit erotic in nature.

Cloud's infantry buds take the threat more seriously than the actual authorities. They at first take turns guarding their bud, but it gets hard doing that on top of their usual jobs. So...they look to hire...and a Soldier takes their offer. Zack Fair is hired as Cloud Strife's bodyguard. He's wary at first about guarding a movie star, but it's soon very apparent that Cloud is very down to earth and humble, if not a little wry and sarcastic. And also very scared about his stalker. He sends something to Cloud everyday. From waxing about how much he loves Cloud, to death threats. Zack takes up his post. That first night, there's a broken window and Zack gives chase, but loses the guy. The next night all is quiet, not even a note. Cloud is visibly relieved and Zack starts really thinking about what this job means.

He almost quits after month when all is quiet. He's a little reluctant about it. He really...liked Cloud more than he thought he would. Cloud being good looking was a given, but Cloud was also funny and liked a lot of the same stuff he did. They just clicked on multiple levels. But then a new note came that made Cloud turn pale. That night there was another broken window. Zack started out, but Cloud jerked him back inside, screaming at him not to leave. Zack had never seen Cloud so angry. Finally Cloud admitted the letter was threatening to kill Zack. Cloud didn't want Zack to get hurt. Zack was extremely touched. He went outside anyway. Cloud screamed.

Going up against a Soldier First Class was a hardy feat for any one person. Not so much a crazed man with a gun and a knife. The fight was over fast. Zack had him disarmed and subdued in moments. The actual authorities took him away. When Zack finally came back Cloud punched him hard in the arm. "I thought I was going to lose you!" Cloud yelled. Zack just smiled, "It's gonna be harder than that to get rid of me." Cloud couldn't resist and smiled. Zack blushed uncontrollably when Cloud leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips. "My hero then," Cloud said dryly, but the hug he gave Zack was genuine. "Don't do that to me again." After that Zack started spending at the night, not because it was his job...but because he and Cloud just wanted him to.

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

Reincarnated

I’m low-key in love with Cloud Strife. Always have been, always will be.

The prompt for this was:

Cloud and [Name] are reincarnated lovers, but aren’t initially compatible with each other.

Cloud Strife x Reader

No warnings.

1,078 words.

Love was a strange thing.

Sometimes, it seemed like the most recognizable thing in the world. It made sense and was clean and simple. Other times, it didn’t make a lick of sense. It was chaotic and messy. One person would lock eyes with another for the first time and they would know, without a shadow of a doubt, that this person would be the one meant for them. Then, by some miracle, they would stay in love until the day they died. There were couples, impossible and improbable couples, that flourished for years while the quote un-quote perfect couple fell apart in a matter of months. It didn’t make sense. There was no pattern to follow with love. It seemed like with every case it differed. Every case had a new set of rules.

Humans liked to pretend they could understand love. They liked to write books on how to love your partner and keep the love alive in a relationship. The truth of the matter though was this: not a soul on Earth could explain the nuances and depth of love in its entirety. They could scratch the surface, sometimes a child could get close or an elderly couple could describe their own story, but when it came down to the truth no one could outwardly declare how love worked.

Sometimes love didn’t last for longer than a year.

Sometimes love lasted 80 years.

Sometimes love lasted throughout lifetimes.

Then there were cases, rare cases, where love transcended through time.

It didn’t die when the lovers’ humanly bodies did. It just continued on, following the familiar souls of the lovers no matter where or when they ended up.

The first time he saw her it was near the beginning of recorded time. He met her and offered to work on her father’s land for years just to be close to her. Eventually, her father allowed them to be together. They married, had kids, and until the day she passed away he loved her with his entire being.

The second time he met her was when she traveled into his village and marched right into his blacksmith’s shop asking, no demanding, for his assistance. A simple metal job turned into a rivalry that turned to a relationship that turned to them spending the rest of their lives together.

The third, the fourth, the fifth, the seventh, the tenth time he met her he fell in love with her. Sometimes tragedy ended their relationship early and sometimes it lasted until they were both old and ready to go. Sometimes it was a rocky road filled with trials and sometimes it was smooth sailing. The factor that always stayed the same, however, was that they found each other.

She always swept into his life and flipped his world upside down.

Cloud Strife whipped around only to have another body slam into his. A cold, wetness soaked into and through his white dress shirt and blue tie. He let out a startled curse as he swiped uselessly at his shirt, as if that could undo the damage already done.

“Seriously? What the hell?” You cried and stared at the two medium, ice cold teas that were half on the floor and half worn by the tall, blond man. Your fists clenched around the work phone in one hand and the pointless drink carrier in the other. Then you mustered up the deadliest glare your overworked, tired body could come up with.

Cloud narrowed his eyes when he noticed you staring at him like he was the devil, “What?”

“Seriously??” You motioned toward him, “I’m already running late. My bosses are going to kill me.”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before dumping your drinks on me.” Cloud replied coldly. She couldn’t be serious right now.

You scoffed, “Dumped it on you? You were in my way!”

“You walked, no slammed, into me.” He argued, “Maybe you should pay attention to where you’re going.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t stand around in a heavily trafficked areas!” You snapped back.

Cloud couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was being blamed for something that was clearly your fault. His eyes glanced over your professionally attired figure and took note of your stressed, exhausted eyes. You were visibly overworked and tired, but that didn’t mean you could yell at him and blame him for your troubles.

You shook your head, “This is unbelievable.” You buried your face into the back of your wrist briefly, “Look, I’m sorry that you’re now covered in my bosses drinks and I’m sorry you were stupid enough to stand in an area that was obviously meant for people to walk through.”

Cloud couldn’t help but let out a small laugh of disbelief. The apology had started off well, but disintegrated before your sentence was even complete. He took a step toward you, but you didn’t back down, “This is not my fault.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” You snapped and grabbed the empty cups to throw away as a worker came over with a mop. You pushed past the blond man to get new drinks. If you hurried then you wouldn’t be late. You worked as a secretary for a nearby business owned by Shinra. Luckily, it was only a couple blocks away.

A sigh slipped your lips in annoyance. Maybe that had been at least partly your fault, or more, but you had been at the end of your rope as of late. It didn’t even matter at this point. It wasn’t like you’d ever see the blond guy again.

Cloud shook his head as he watched you rush away. The worker offered him a handful of paper towels that he took after letting out a sigh of annoyance. Today was his first day of work and now he’d have to decide between showing up on time wearing two cups of tea or showing up late but with a clean shirt. Either way his first impressions weren’t looking like they’d end very well. Zack’s apartment was on the street over. He could run there and borrow a shirt.

Luckily, his new workplace, a business owned by Shinra, was only a couple blocks from here and he could easily get there by foot. Cloud threw away the damp paper towels before leaving with Zack’s apartment as his destination in mind. He forced himself to forget the [hair color] haired woman.

It wasn’t like he’d ever see you again.

[jadekitty777]

One Last Mission

It’s here! It’s here!! Welcome to my only entry for STRQ week! Did I have plans to do more? Maybe. Did I have the time or motivation? Not at all. But uh, this one is a bit of a monster of a story so, hopefully, it’ll make up for my lack of participation.

Day 2: Team Mom @strqweekblastoff

Rating: T

Words: 10k

Summary: All her life, Ruby wondered what had become of her mother on that last, fateful mission that took her away. The wrong question to Jinn might just provide the answer she’s sought for so long.

But knowledge always comes with a cost, and this time, the price is too high to pay.

Ao3 Link: One Last Mission

~

The end of the world was held in five simple words:

“What knowledge do you seek?”

Panic filled her headspace as Ruby struggled to break the grip of the Grimm arms holding her, pleading with all she had, “Jinn, don’t answer her!”

As the ethereal being spied her over Salem’s head, she could almost pretend the look on her blue face was sympathetic. “I told you the next time I was summoned, I would be answering a question. I never said it would be yours.”

“But-!”

Any further protest she may have had was cut short, as with a wave of Salem’s hand, Ruby suddenly found herself pitching face first into the ground. Her aura, already flagging, crackled across her face, and she felt the sting of the blow, the dizziness in her brain. She heard her name get yelled by more than one voice – blending together in a garbled cry that she couldn’t begin to decipher. Had that been her uncle’s raspy shout? Weiss’ piercing wail? Jaune’s weakened whimper? She couldn’t even begin to tell.

The first thing she could did understand as the ringing in her head dimmed was Salem’s commanding tenor, “-Trust that none of the rest of you will think to interrupt me.” Then, to the genie, “I apologize for their manners Jinn. There will be no further outbursts. Now, you have one question left.”

“That is correct.”

“A pity, that, but I can work with it.” A deep breath, then, “I wish to know: where is the Relic of Choice hiding?”

The shakiness in Ruby’s vision cleared just in time for her to see the way the thick blue smoke filled the room, clouding everyone else out of view until there was nothing but herself and the vision before her. The familiar sight of Ozpin’s circular office greeted her, nearly the same right down to the cogs turning from above with the nostalgia of easier times. The only thing out of place to her own memory was the desk, crafted out of wood rather than the metalwork and glass she knew.

Behind it, a much younger Ozpin took shape as more smoke willed him into existence.

“It all started with a plan.” Jinn’s omnipresent voice filtered in from what seemed to be everywhere.

Ruby heard footsteps approaching from behind, spotting how the last wisps faded into a stark white cloak as the person stopped beside her. Already knowing who she’d see, it took all of her strength to look up.

There Summer Rose, her mother, stood. Decked head to toe in combat gear and more serious than she ought to be, her voice held little of the warmth Ruby recalled. There was only firm resignation as she spoke, “You know this is our best chance, Oz. My semblance is the only alternative we have. You have to trust me.”

“I do.” Her former headmaster heaved a deep sigh, laying his arms across his desk. “But I can’t ask this of you.”

“Then it’s a good thing you’re not.” Was her mother’s clipped reply.

He shook his head. “We don’t even know if this intel is fresh. It could very well be years before she enacts it. Or it might even be a red herring. A way to get the relic out in the open.”

“And if it’s legitimate? We can’t take those chances. And we certainly can’t hope for ten years when we might not even have tomorrow.” She waved her arms outwards, her cloak billowing around her with the impressive gesture. “If an attack is coming, the relic cannot be here. You know as well as I do that if she gets Choice, this is all over.”

“Summer, please. Consider what’s at stake. Not for the world, but for yourself.”

Her mother took several steps forward, until she was right in front of the desk. “I have. That’s why I have to do this. I refuse to let my children grow up in a war and I especially refuse to lose another family.” She reached out, placing a hand on his forearm. “So please Oz, let me do my part.”

Though his eyes were hidden behind the glare of his glasses, Ruby could clearly see the grimace across the old wizard’s face. “Very well. I’ll summon Olivia.”

“Thank you Oz.” Summer said, her body bowing a bit with relief. “Thank you.”

They dissolved away into smoke as Jinn’s voice flooded in once more. “And so, with a final goodbye to her loved ones…”

Ruby sucked in a sharp breath as she found herself in her own home, surrounded by furniture she barely recognized and family pictures on the wall that had long been changed out in her youth when the pain became too much for dad.

It hurt, watching him embrace her now, not even a pinch of worry to his face. “Now don’t you worry. I can handle things until you get back.”

“I won’t.” Her mom replied as she pulled away, reaching down where Yang was clinging to her leg. “Because my big girl is going to make sure daddy stays in line, aren’t you?”

“Hehe! Yeah!”

“Mama!” Ruby’s eyes fell back to the floor, where her smaller self stood, barely three years old and still wobbly on her feet. “I wanna upsies!”

Summer reached down, scooping her up into her other arm, cradling them both against her. “Mommy’s gonna be back soon, she’s just got to save the world first, okay?” She kissed the tops of their heads in turn, murmuring, “I love you.”

“…and with false reassurances…”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Her uncle asked as walked her to the port where the ferry to the mainland was waiting.

“No, no. It’s a simple thing, really.” She laughed. “Tai’s going to have more of a handful than me. I can trust you to watch out for them while I’m gone, can’t I?”

Qrow sniggered as she looked up at him beseechingly. “Alright, alright, no need for the puppy eyes.” He wrapped an arm over her shoulders. “I’ll hold the fort until you get back.”

“I know you will. I’ll be back before you know it, promise.”

“…The brave huntress set off on a journey that even Oz knew not her path.” The next scene was brief but haunting, seeing her mother standing at the aft of the ship, watching Patch disappear on the horizon as silent tears tracked down her face.

“Her travels led her far from home and not without strife. Alone, she faced the monstrosities of the world drawn by the hidden relic she was transporting. Worried of the weight she carried, she rested little and moved often, always straying from towns whenever possible. Yet, it was neither her exhaustion nor the Grimm who would begin her end.”

“Hey there sweetheart.” A tavern blinked into view, a man who looked more like a grizzly bear leering down at her mom. “Those are some beautiful eyes you got there.”

“It would be man.”

The tavern morphed into a grassy field, her mother standing still as she faced the same grizzly man. Beside him, another person appeared next to him. Then another beside them. One by one, the shady characters materialized, until they formed a tight ring around her.

Summer looked left. Then right. Then back at the first man. “Beautiful eyes, huh?”

He grinned wickedly. “Nothing personal doll. They’re just worth yer weight in lien.”

“If only it were your weight in lien, then it might be worth the beating I’m about to give you.” She replied as she reached for the weapon at her hip.

All at once, the mob attacked. Ruby could hardly keep up as she watched her mother weave in and out of strikes from her opponents, her return blows equally devastating but with a tinge of desperation to every movement as she used every opening given to her. But for every person she managed to bring down, two more stood in their place.

“She fought valiantly and on a better day, she may have even of been victorious. But fighting is not always about who is stronger.” The chilling sound of her mother’s scream sent shivers down Ruby’s back. “Sometimes, it’s simply about who is lucky.”

She watched the ringleader deliver a swift palm strike that caused her mother to go flying across the field. Energy crackled furiously across her body as she struggled to get back to her feet, more uncoordinated than a newborn deer, and though Ruby knew it had to be a semblance of some kind, she couldn’t say what had actually just been done.

“Alright,” The leader panted, waving to the few still standing. “Clock’s running. Gouge her – carefully. Our collector isn’t going to want damaged goods.”

Summer scrambled for her weapon, panic clear on her face as the bounty hunters approached her.

Even as her stomach twisted with sick, Ruby couldn’t look away.

“And sometimes…”

Jinn’s voice was nearly overtaken by the windy howl that cut through the field, clouds of black and red appearing in the sky before a figure dropped from the heart of the storm, bringing down a rain of fire and fury as she landed between Summer and her opponents.

“…It’s about who will aid you in your greatest time of need.”

Ruby had to wonder what her sister was thinking right now. Her own mind seemed to buzz uselessly, unable to comprehend the woman now there. Unable to believe the way Raven rose from her crouch, stepping forward across the scorched grass with a look of ferocity that was a direct mirror to Yang whenever she most wanted to protect someone.

“Branwen.” The man spat the name like a curse.

“Griff. You and your little ragtag team are awfully south this autumn.” Despite her expression, her voice was calm. In control. “Would you care to tell me what your ugly mug is doing in Branwen territory?”

He scoffed, though his eyes strayed warily as her hand rose to her sword. “Just leaving, actually.”

“But boss we can take her and get the-!” One of his lackeys started to protest.

One that was cut off by a solid smack to the back of his head. “Shut yer trap! Only someone who doesn’t value their life would say something that dumb.”

A screech in the distance punctuated that statement, far enough away that there was time, but too close to ignore.

Grimm.

Griff gave the horizon a disdainful look, before snapping his fingers and waving his recovering team into action. “Alright ya lowlifes, lick yer wounds and get along already.” As they started to pick themselves up and retreat, some of them having to help their limping fellows, he gave the bandit one final look. “Enjoy being at the top while you and your lot can, Branwen. It won’t last forever.”

Raven only smiled patronizingly. “We’ll see.” Once they had all disappeared, she shifted her head to the side, asking, “What’d they do, steal your wallet?”

“Hah, funny.” Summer grumbled, only to hiss in pain as another crackle of energy sparked along her frame.

Raven turned, the bravado she carried falling away as quickly as she fell to her knees.  “What are you doing here? Didn’t Qrow give you my warning?”

“Actually, what he told me was a mysterious informant tipped him off about there being a suddenly high demand for silver eyes on the black market.” She replied cheekily. Her face smoothed into something softer as the other woman grasped her hand, staring intently down at her palm. From her angle, Ruby couldn’t figure out what was there. “It’s nice to know you care though.”

Raven blinked, before scoffing, “Don’t read too much into it.”

“I also won’t read into your unusually well-timed entrance.”

Despite everything, Ruby couldn’t help but crack a smile. She never knew her mother’s sense of humor was so sarcastically sassy.

The mirth didn’t last long, as another ear-splitting screech drew their attention southward again. Raven frowned, standing and helping Summer to her feet. “Come on. I’ll get you somewhere safe and then I better tail after Griff.”

“Well… getting away might be the hard part. What with this trinket and all.” Summer murmured and from the folds of her cloak, produced the hidden relic.

Raven’s eyes nearly fell out of her head, her voice three octaves higher, “What is that doing here?!”

“We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

“And so,” Jinn spoke up as the scene shifted from a field to a forest, where her mother sat on a log while Raven paced to and fro restlessly. “With her options limited, Summer informed Raven of the secret plan she and Ozpin had agreed upon to remove the relic from its original housing and relocate it in hopes that their enemy could not so easily discover it.”

“How reckless can you get?! Doing this alone? I can’t believe-” Whatever Raven couldn’t believe was cut off by her own frustrated growl.

Her mother averted her gaze to the foliage between her feet. “We couldn’t risk it. The more people who know, the more chances this’ll fail. And I didn’t want Salem to be able to follow any obvious leads.”

She paused in her pacing, turning to her. “So why tell me?”

“Because I have a feeling this is bad news.”

This time, when Summer showed her hand, Ruby got a good look at what had Raven so preoccupied before. Right in the center of her palm was a stain of red glowing numbers. 170:24:32. As she stared at it, she noticed the last number shifting from 32 to 31. Then 30. Then 29.

Ruby felt her throat close up with sudden clarity just as Raven spoke up, “It is. Griff’s semblance is a death counter, but it has a trade-off. He gives away a portion of his lifeline to put a time limit on someone else’s. He’s always been a high-risk, high-reward kind of guy – but even he doesn’t tend to use that trick unless his target’s being particularly difficult.”

“Heh, well that’s a compliment.”

“Summer! This is serious!” She’d started pacing again, a franticness about her as she carried on, “I don’t even know if there’s a way to undo it. No one he’s ever used it on has ever come out of it alive, that’s for sure!” She reached up, gripping her sword tightly. “That’s why I need to go track him down, beat him into turning it off if I have to.”

“And if he can’t?”

“Then I’ll slit his throat.”

The declaration was said with such certainty it made Ruby’s stomach drop, but her mother continued on, nonplussed. “Raven you can’t just murder all your problems away.”

The look she shot her screamed ‘Wanna bet?’

“There’s also no guarantee that’ll work. It might just keep going or, worse than that, go all the way down to zero.”

“Yeah but-”

“But none of it matters.” Summer spoke over her – but what she said next left the world in silence. “Because I never planned to come back after this mission was complete.”

It felt like the ground below her was forever tipping, leaving Ruby permanently unbalanced as she took in those fatal words. Even knowing Jinn couldn’t do so in what she presented, she so desperately wished this was all a lie. Because this couldn’t be real, right? Her mother wouldn’t abandon her family; not like…

Raven’s gaze had darkened considerably. “What are you saying?”

“I thought about it the entire time. I knew when I locked the relic away, I was the biggest liability in all this. If Salem figured out it was me, it wouldn’t take much to get me to talk.” She laughed, but it sounded hollow. “As you’ve always told me Rae, my heart’s a little too big. I’d crack the minute she even so much as side-eyed Yang or Ruby. And if I went home, I’d lead her right to them.” She trailed off, looking down at her hand. “But now with this and you, it solves everything. My connection to this will be gone and you’ll be the key. It’s per-”

Face twisted with rage, Raven crossed the clearing in seconds, gripping Summer by her cloak and yanking her up until her feet didn’t even touch the floor. “DO YOU EVEN HEAR YOURSELF RIGHT NOW?!” She shook her vigorously. “You’ve lost your damned mind! You’re asking to die Summer!”

“I’m not afraid of that.” Despite hanging in the air, her mother never seemed more steady as she met the other woman’s gaze. “The only thing I fear is failing the people I love. If I have to give my life to make sure theirs aren’t miserable, then so be it.”

“Mom!” The cry left Ruby almost involuntarily, forgetting for a moment she was only a vision.

“You, stupid-!” Raven tossed her down to the dirt. It was hard to tell what emotion she was shaking with, most of her face hidden behind her dark hair and only the grit of her teeth visible. But when she looked up, the sheen in her eyes was obvious. “Do you really think so little of yourself Summer that those who love you won’t miss you when you’re gone?”

Summer stared back, before she lowered her head. “Of course not. You know, it’s funny almost. I thought there was nothing I wanted more than to live my life out as a huntress; but when I became a mom, I found another happiness I wanted to keep just as much. If I could have it both ways, I would take it in a heartbeat.” She rose to her feet, their gazes meeting. “So yes, it tears me up inside, knowing how much our family’s going to hurt when they realize I’m not coming back. It’s really awful of me to put them through that.”

“Then don’t! We’ll figure something else out, okay? So you can stop all this nonsense talk about-”

“But,” She interrupted, clasping a hand around Raven’s arm, “This is about more than just me and what I want. Everything and everyone is at stake. People I vowed to protect to the end.”

Raven jerked back some, shaking her head. “What do they matter? It’s not like they’ll ever even know.”

“It’s not about the recognition, it’s about doing what’s right.” She sighed, looking down at her hand where the clock was still ticking. “Look, I know you think I’m just throwing away my life – but it’s never been about living long, Raven. It’s about making it count.” She curled her hand, tucking it against her heart. “My story might be ending here, but I never lived it meaninglessly. If this is the last thing I’ll be able to do for everyone, then I’m happy.”

It was strange. Ruby had always known her mother had given her life for the people. Growing up, she’d even idolized it. Wanted to be just like her and all the other heroes of fiction her sister used to say were just like mom. Knew without doubt, that if their positions had been switched, she might even be saying these same exact words.

So why did she so desperately want Raven to change her mother’s mind, right here and now?

Instead, she sighed, the look of acceptance breaking Ruby’s heart. “You’re really not going to change your mind, are you Sums?”

“Afraid not!” She replied, oddly chipper. “So what do you say? One last mission together?”

“Tch.” Raven looked thoughtfully towards the trees, eyebrows drawing down. “…Fine. On one condition.”

“Name it.”

Like the words were a cue, the bandit made good on her name as she suddenly darted forward and faster than Ruby could catch, Raven unclipped the relic from Summer’s belt and leapt backwards. “We’re doing things my way first!”

“Huh-!? Raven!” Summer cried, trying to chase after her – but it was futile for the other woman had already tossed the relic into air, shifting after it. The raven cawed as it flew over the treetops, her mother giving chase as everything fell away into smoke.

“It was a desperate hope that had Raven calling upon my sister that day.” Jinn orated, the new scene revealing itself like a theater curtain being dropped. The forest slanted upwards, the trees leaning forward with the weight of gravity. On a large boulder that jutted out from the hill’s peak stood Raven. As she peered down from her perch, so did Ruby.

At the base of the hill, her mother stood. She was completely out of breath, one hand pressed against her chest while she braced the other on the trunk of a tree. Still, her gaze did not waver from Raven’s own. “So? What are you going to do now? Force me to cooperate with you?”

Only Ruby heard the snort and scathing grumble, “Don’t think even a relic’s strong enough for that.” She placed the crown atop her head, saying louder, “You can go hermit yourself into whatever corner of this pitiful world you want. But I’ll be damned if I let you just kill yourself.” She tapped the blue jewel in the crest of the diadem. “You in there, choice… creature?”

“You need to say her name.” Summer instructed, seemingly having accepted her fate as she sat down on the ground.

A pause, then Raven said with tentative uncertainty, “Moirai?”

The reaction was instantaneous. The gemstone on the crown suddenly glowing so bright Ruby had to shut her eyes or fear she might go blind. A soft, shifting noise filled her ears, barely perceptible yet definitely there, like the sound of a running hourglass that she could only hear if she held it close. Once the light in her eyelids was gone, she dared a peek, looking around for the ethereal being.

It took her a moment to spot Moirai, lounging atop Raven’s head. Where Jinn was larger than life, she was but a small speck of a thing, barely larger than a blue jay – the same shade as one too. Her face was obscured by a hood that covered most of her face. Upon her back rested a wooden wheel that seemed to of come from a seamstresses’ antique workshop.

The fae rested her hands underneath her chin and in a voice as tiny as she was, asked, “Oh it’s been so long since I’ve been out to play! Whose fate do you wish to change?”

Despite her obvious surprise, Raven didn’t hesitate. “I need you to have Griff release his semblance on Summer.”

Ruby’s heart jumped with hope.

“I’m afraid this is something I cannot do.”

Those words broke it a second time.

Raven’s fingers curled into fists, demanding hotly, “What? Why not?”

“I am only able to complete requests within human possibility.” Moirai explained. “The one you call Griffith Grayson harnesses a semblance of which there is no reverse. The trading of his lifeline to bring death to another is permanent.”

“What if I told you to make Griff stop breathing?”

The wheel on the fae’s back turned once. “It is something I can do, but it will not bring the result you desire.”

Raven’s eyes darted about as she thought. “Then… make it so Summer doesn’t die when the timer runs out!”

“This is something I cannot do.”

“No. Nonono.” She shook her head, pacing along the rock.

Moirai hummed. “Is there perhaps another’s fate you wish for I to change?”

“I… I need to think.” Raven muttered.

The fae began to fade away into luminescent glitter. “When you wish upon my services, speak my name once more.”

“There has to be something…!”

“Though Raven would try again and again to find a way around this cruel and deadly fate,” The blue fog drifted across the forest, revealing evening had fallen. Raven had settled down on the rock, hunched over. Her hand was pressed against her forehead, mumbling frantically to herself. “Even with eternity, she would not have found the answer to Summer’s plight. For there was none. And eventually there was no choice left-”

A hand appeared in a cloud of smoke, held out to Raven in clear askance. As she looked up at it, the rest of Summer appeared, looking down at her with a solemn smile. “Come on. We need to go.”

Defeat slumped her shoulders and Raven took her hand.

“-But for her to accept it.” The forest was gone in a blink. “With their time limit clear and their destination just barely within reach, they made their way across Anima together.” Ruby lifted her head as the sky formed above her, watching a raven coast through the clouds. “Alone, the distance would have been impossible for Summer to manage on foot. However, Raven’s transformation, gifted to her from Ozma, and her own kindred linking semblance cleared the many miles they needed to traverse.” Rock shot up around her, forming a great cavern. A few feet away, her mother stood, brave and tall as a dozen Grimm all leapt at her at once “All the while, Summer’s own ability kept their way clear and safe.”

A familiar, bright light filled the area and everything disappeared.

“It was on Summer’s final hour that they finally reached their journey’s end.”

Though aged with time, the land that spread before her was one Ruby was shocked to realize she recognized. The stone path had weathered and cracked, vegetation growing over most of the brick and the stairs that had once been so immaculately placed in the face of the rock of the canyon now lay broken and uneven. Yet still, the yellow flowers were still the same, spreading out like a golden blanket across the land and the snow-capped mountains in the distance had the same, unmistakable jagged peaks.

This was the God of Light’s former domain.

A scraping noise drew her attention to the left, seeing her mom huddled on the bottom step. She was trying to draw her hood more tightly around herself. Her face, having lost almost all color, nearly matched the white fabric and her eyes seemed unfocused and dim. Yet, a cawing from above drew her gaze skyward before she struggled to her feet, having to support herself against the rock just to get up.

The minute she let go, she began to fall.

The raven dove and in a flurry of feathers, reformed into human as Raven caught her just in time. “What about stay put don’t you get?”

Despite her failing health, Summer laughed. “Sorry, sorry. Spot anyone?”

“Not a soul.” Raven took on more of her weight, slinging one of her arms over her shoulders. “You were right, no Grimm for miles either. I can’t believe a place like this exists.”

“I wanted to bring Ruby here, one day. This place was always so safe and pure. Without silver eyes, it’s impossible to bypass the Grimm that surround the borders here. But my people would travel here every year to pray to the God of Light and bath our newborns in the fountain. Before, well-” She breathed deeply. “We should get moving.”

Raven snuck a glance at the pale hand laying limp against her collar, expression hardening, “Right.”

The inside of the canyon had seen the most change. The tree was completely gone and the once grandiose lake of a fountain had become nothing more than a mere piece of decorative stone in the center of the area, no larger than the one that had once stood in Beacon’s courtyard. The two were now sitting on the basin’s edge. Raven’s eyes were drawn down to the water, seemingly mesmerized by the random spots of golden light that bloomed across its surface. Her gaze drifted to Summer’s reflection, watching as she pulled out the relic and dropped it into the fountain.

The single ripple that disturbed the surface echoed across Raven’s face, leaving sorrow to settle. “Summer…”

“I’m sorry.”

The apology was so unexpected, both Ruby and Raven looked at her simultaneously – though only Raven could follow with, “For?”

“I had thought,” Her mother’s sentence was broken by a sigh, “Of all the people I knew who would miss me, I wasn’t sure you were still one of them.”

“Oh… I suppose I earned that.”

She shook her head, discreetly rubbing away a tear budding at the corner of her eyes. “I’m sure it feels like I’m just trying to get back at you in the cruelest way possible. I’m sorry for putting you through this. But it’s been nice, really. I’ve missed being around my best friend.”

Before she could say more, a hand was offered to her. She looked to it, then the woman offering it.

“Didn’t I always tell you to save the sentimental speeches for after the mission?” That telltale sheen was back in her eyes.

Summer chuckled wetly, reaching out to clasp Raven’s hand in her own. “I guess I can listen to you just this once.”

When Ruby had first learned what semblances were, she remembered how she had pestered her father all day about every single one he’d ever encountered. Though, he never told her the name of the person it belonged to. It was rude, he had explained, like telling other people’s secrets without their permission. So, Ruby didn’t pry too hard – except for the one she wanted to know the most.

Watching it now, she could hear her dad’s long ago words playing back in her mind.

“Your mom’s semblance was like nothing I’d ever even heard of before. She called it Aura Lock, and that’s basically what it was. She could take a piece of her aura or someone else’s and turn it into a key that she used to lock something else up – and only the person whose aura was used to lock it could unlock it again, even if it was months later. In fact, from what we tested, it didn’t seem to have a time limit at all. As long as whoever was the key was still alive, whatever was locked up would stay that way.”

Red flowed down Raven’s arm, collecting around where their hands were joined. As Summer pulled her hand away, she tugged the aura up with her until, like a rubber band stretched too thin, it snapped away from its original owner. The glowing energy condensed together, taking the shape of a skeleton key, the bow of it designed like Raven’s emblem.

Her father’s narration continued.

“When she first told us, I thought: No way was that useful. But your mom was always creative and smart. She could lock up weapons’ gears so they couldn’t transform. Or stop guns from firing. Or dust canisters from ejecting. One time, she even locked up a beowolf’s jaw so it couldn’t bite. But even when she wasn’t using it on the battlefield, she found other uses. We made a habit of locking away our supplies in tree trunk hollows during long missions or in inn closets when we were in less trustworthy towns.”

As she watched her mom lower the key to the water, the glow of aura spreading delicately along it’s smooth surface and climbing up to overflow along the sides of the rim, the last of her dad’s words faded to memory.

“It’s part of what made her a great leader and an even greater person. She always knew just what to protect.”

The aura dissipated, making the fountain appear no different then before. Summer reached for the water once more, fingers gliding unnaturally along the water as if it had become as solid as ice, crackles of red light following her touch. A perfect, impassable barrier.

In the reflection of the water, Ruby could see the clock as it ticked down into the final ten minutes.

Summer drew back. “Okay. It’s done.” Then, as if gravity had become twice as strong, she drew back further.

Raven caught her before she could topple onto the concrete.

Jinn’s voice, almost forgotten, made Ruby startle as it boomed all around her like a knell. “With her mission complete, Summer passed on the last of her duty to Raven.”

The scene vanished to white only to partially reform with nothing more than the fountain and the two women, no longer sitting on it, but on the ground before it. Raven’s back was braced against it, looking down at Summer whose head was resting in her lap. The sight tore at Ruby’s soul.

“And said goodbye.”

“You know.” Raven murmured. “There’s still time. I could bring you back.”

“And let this be the last they remember of me?” Her mother’s words were coming out stilted and slow, like she couldn’t quite find the energy to speak. “No. I can’t do that to them.”

“But…”

“It’s okay. Really. I want their last memory of me to be something good to hold onto.” A pause. “You remember what I told you, right?”

She nodded. “I do.”

“Tell it to me.” She urged softly.

“Summer-”

“Please. One more time.”

Raven exhaled heavily, reciting out, “Salem is going to locate a vessel to take in the powers of the four maidens. When she does, the fall maiden will fall and Beacon will be next. When Choice is discovered missing, she’ll turn to Haven for Knowledge. I need to make the spring maiden go missing before this. No matter what.”

Summer hummed in agreement. “If all else fails?”

“Get Knowledge out and keep it from Salem’s hands.”

“Good.” She breathed, eyes falling shut. “You’ll make the right calls, I know it.”

Raven’s laugh was more of a sob. “I don’t know how to do that without you.”

“Sure you do. You did it today. You’ll do it again.”

Ruby felt tears slip down her own face just as they did on Raven’s. The woman bowed her head, praying for an answer, “Why do you have so much faith in me, huh?”

Summer smiled, a bit of that sassiness still shining through. “Can’t say I was wrong, seeing as you’re the one here now.”

“You’re insufferable!” She cried.

“I love you too Rae.” Her head lolled, coming to rest against the other’s stomach.  “Hey uh I’m… really tired.”

“Rest, then.” Raven reached out, taking her hand in hers. “I’m right here.”

“Thank you…”

As the two disappeared into smoke, Ruby doubled over, feeling the weight on her chest that had always been present since the loss of her mother become inexplicably heavy.

The last words of Raven’s words trickled in with a breaking whisper:

“Summer? …Summer.”

It all was lost to the static in her own mind, the weight growing and growing until all she could do was scream.

Ruby never saw Salem’s domain reappear into existence as silver light flooded forth from her eyes.

Then there was nothing but darkness.

~

Consciousness came back slow to Ruby, spurred on by a high-pitched whistle. Everything came back at a snail’s pace, with the aching of her body and in her head being the most prominent details. The rest of it followed. The warmth and crackle of a nearby fire. The fading scent of Weiss’ expensive perfume clinging to the blanket she was wrapped in. The sound of talk, becoming clearer by the second, around her.

Her sister’s voice was closest and came back in first. “-Think she’ll ever come?”

“Are you going to be okay if she does?” Weiss, somewhere to her left.

“I… don’t know.”

“No matter what happens, we’re here for you.” That was Blake this time, further away. “All of you.”

Ruby blinked away the blurriness in her eyes as she opened them, asking groggily, “For what?”

That turned all attention onto her immediately. Yang, sitting right beside her, exclaimed, “Ruby!”

The noise went straight to her headache. “Too loud.”

“Sorry! Sorry…” She placed a hand on her arm, the cool metal wracking free a shiver. “How are you feeling?”

Ruby took a moment to take stock of herself. It felt like all her nerves were on fire, leaving her skin aching. “Everything hurts.”

It was a strangely familiar feeling. She’d felt it only once before.

…Right after the attack on Beacon.

The memories flooded back all at once and she jerked upwards, ignoring the protest in her muscles. “Wait, what happened?! Where-” She took in the walls of the refinery office around her, the sight quelling some of her panic but only increasing her confusion. “We’re back at the base? How did we – where’s Salem?”

“It’s okay Ruby.” From the other side of her, Weiss’ calm tone cut through her fearful fog. “We got out, thanks to you.”

“Me?”

Yang’s hand was on her back now. “Yeah! You blasted Salem good sis.”

“I did?” She knew her eyes had activated, but to think it had had an effect… “Where is she now?”

“Retreated, for now. It’s giving Mantle and Atlas a chance for a breather.” Blake was the one to offer from the opposite side of the fire. Held in her hand was the culprit of what had awoken her – a tea kettle.

Ruby looked from it to the room once more, giving it a more critical sweep. She spotted Oscar sitting on a crate nearby, seemingly deep in thought as he stared unseeingly at the ground. Talking with Ozpin then. Her uncle was pacing back and forth on the upper level of the refinery, everything about him restless and angry.

No one else was around.

“Where’s Penny? And Jaune? And- everyone?”

“They and the Happy Huntresses are collecting as much hard light dust as they can to surround the crater with.” Yang explained. “With the heat off of us for now, it’s the best chance we’ve got to fortify some of our defenses before Salem strikes again.”

Ruby frowned, realizing everyone else was out working hard while she’d been tying up the rest of their team. She started to get up. “Well then what are we doing? Let’s- ow. Owowow.”

Weiss guided her back down onto the roll out mat. “You need to recover first, you dolt.”

“But-”

“She’s right kiddo.” Her uncle called, leaping down from the catwalk to their level, striding over. Her whining must have caught his attention. “Your aura’s practically at nothing. Take some time to rest, okay?”

She knew even if she tried to disagree, there were at least four other people who would leap up to agree with him, so she just pouted and said, “Fine.” A glint of something in his hand drew her eye. “Uh, Uncle Qrow? What’s with the knife?”

“Tch. Just trying to call my dumbass sister.” He tapped the tip of the blade to the palm of his opposite hand. She realized sickly both it and the blade were covered in blood. “It’s an old calling card of ours.”

Ruby processed that, recalling how Raven had leapt from the sky when her mom was struck down, the timing too perfect to be coincidence. Yang had mentioned something similar when she’d come to her rescue after Neo had knocked her out. “Her semblance tells you when you’re hurt?”

“Yeah, and how much too. So, she definitely knows I’m trying to tell her that I’d like to be graced with her presence.” Qrow replied with a roll of his eyes.

“I mean,” Yang spoke up, fire burning underneath her tone, “If she doesn’t want to answer, then why bother?”

He frowned at her. “Firecracker, I ain’t gonna tell you how to feel ‘bout all this. I don’t even know how I feel. But, she needs to know she’s in danger.” He strode away, slicing the knife harshly along his hand. “Now if she’d just stop being so damn stubborn-!”

As if to spite him, the world split into black and red before their very eyes, the telltale howl permeating the space.

Noticing how immediately Yang tensed up, Ruby shifted closer to her sister until their arms were pressed against each other’s. She herself tried to put on a brave face as she waited for the woman to emerge.

“Finally.” Qrow grumbled under his breath as he tossed away the knife, before raising his voice enough to be heard over the din, “Come on out Rae. You’re safe.”

Despite the assurance, Raven still walked out of the portal with her hand on her sword, inspecting the room guardedly. Wherever she must have anticipated walking into, a broken-down factory in the poor slums of Mantle was definitely not it, but it did get her to relax minutely. The second sweep of her eyes was completely focused on them, though it was hard to say what she was looking for.

Ruby could feel the shaking of Yang’s hand start up, when Raven lingered on her the longest.

“Miss Branwen. Good to see you.” Ozpin, roused by her presence, greeted jovially.

She only returned the sentiment with a suspicious, “Oz.” Her grasp finally fell away from her weapon though as she turned back to Qrow. “Alright little brother, what do you want?”

“Just had a question.” He replied with a flippant casualness that Ruby recognized in herself when she was purposely trying to irritate her own sister.

“You bothered me for an hour to ask a-”

He spoke over her tirade, “So. When exactly were you going to tell me you knew where the Beacon relic was this whole time?”

Quick as a whip, Raven snapped back, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure.” He drawled. “Just like you also don’t know that the intel you gave me after Amber’s attack came from Summer, right?”

It was devastating watching the speed in which Raven put the pieces together, the mask she wore more heavily than the one on her hip cracking as she did.

She looked from Qrow, to Yang, to Oz. “Where’s Knowledge?”

The room was abruptly stifled with regret and shame, easily seen in her uncle’s slumped shoulders, Blake’s lowered ears, Yang’s grit teeth, Weiss and Oz’s averted gazes.

Ruby, with failure crushing her heart and remorse constricting her tongue, could only stare back when the woman’s questing eyes met hers.

It was all the answer Raven needed. “How much does she know?”

“Enough.” Qrow answered shortly.

“All of it.” Ruby corrected. Then, because it was only fair she knew, added, “We all saw it. Salem asked the question right in front of us.”

Her face went pale. “She’s here?!”

“Withdrawn, at the moment.” Ozpin interjected, his tone heavy as he looked to one of the industrial-sized picture windows that lined the walls. What a picture it was, the masses crowded and huddling together while the skyline beyond them had grown dark as night, scarlet electricity sparking along the darkness erratically to reveal the features of thousands of Grimm that made up the miasma. “But I fear it won’t be long before she and her forces regroup and swoop back in.”

Raven took a few steps forward, her horror mounting. “That’s – No. This doesn’t make sense.”

“Oh, let me guess? More information from Summer you were hiding?” Her uncle’s hands curled into fists. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me any of this Raven!”

“Not telling you was the point! If no one knew where Choice was, then she’d never find it.”

He threw out his arms. “Oh yeah, great plan! How’s it working for you?”

“Why does it even matter right now?” She waved back to the window. “Nothing Summer knew had anything to do with genociding an entire continent!”

Qrow stalked over, getting right in her face. “It matters because we could have made different decisions. We led her right here – but we could have put Knowledge back!”

“Where there were no Huntsman left to protect it? She’d only come back for it!” It was uncanny how similar they looked at that moment, eyes blazing and teeth bared. “It was safer to take it away.”

He scoffed. “Was it? Or were you just trying to protect yourself a little longer? I’m sure Summer would be so proud.”

Ruby opened her mouth, about to protest – but Raven’s rage was quicker, shoving her uncle back. “Oh so that’s how you want to do this, huh? Alright, fine. Why don’t you fucking explain to me what you think you’re doing dragging our kids into this war! Really just spitting on her grave, aren’t ya?”

That seemed to be the final straw that had Yang surging to her feet, voice bellowing over the room. “Seriously?! You’re saying that now?”

“Don’t-”

“No, you don’t! You don’t get to come waltzing in here after twenty years and think you have any say in how I live my life!”

Raven rolled her eyes, “First of all, you’re nineteen. You’re also,” She held up a finger, ticking off more as she listed out, “Untrained. Sloppy. High-tempered. And way in over your damn head!”

“You don’t know that!”

“Bullshit I don’t! You signed a death certificate without reading the fine print! I told you,” She glanced to her brother, “I told all of you, that we were fighting a fight we couldn’t win. But no one bothered to listen to me.”

“Well maybe if you acted like you cared about anyone besides yourself, we would have! But that’s too hard for you, isn’t it mom?” Yang spit the last word like it was a curse.

With how angry her uncle and sister were, Ruby knew they missed the split-second glimpse of Raven’s expression falling to hurt before she schooled it back into something cold once more. But that was enough for her to finally get to her feet, speaking over them all firmly, “That’s enough.”

The reaction was instantaneous, the room falling quiet as everyone turned to her.

“Look, we didn’t ask you to come here to yell at you.” She gave a pointed look to Qrow and Yang, before her gaze landed on Raven. “We wanted to tell you that you’re Salem’s new target. So, you could know you needed to run away.”

The laugh that left Raven was as broken as the one she’d once given her mother. “Kid, I don’t think you understand.” She turned back to the window, staring into death itself. “There’s no where left to run anymore.”

~

When Ruby was young, the word ‘Raven’ was like a curse in her home. So much so, she started to equate this unseen and unknown woman to an earthquake. The mere mention of her would shake up the household like nothing else, and who it affected most depended on the day. Sometimes it was Yang, who wouldn’t find peace until she broke something. Sometimes it was dad, who would sit on the porch steps for a long time, completely silent. Sometimes it was Uncle Qrow, who would leave the house and not be back until all the bars closed.

Despite the years, it seemed Raven still had that nature about her, if Qrow’s abrupt absence and her sister gearing up to follow had anything to say about it. Her only consolations were that at least her uncle would return sober and Yang would only break some Grimm rather than her toys.

“You’re sure you’ll be alright?”

Ruby was thankful for the teacup she could hide her face in, just so Blake couldn’t detect any of the irritation she was feeling. She didn’t want to seem ungrateful to her friend’s honest concerns.

But she also just… didn’t want to be around anyone right now. A hard task to accomplish, when in an overcrowded safety zone, but she’d make do.

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” She reassured once she’d lowered the cup. “Yang needs you too. I think I’m just going to rest some more.”

Blake frowned. “Are you sure that’s,” She spared a wary glance towards the second level, “…Safe?”

Ruby followed her sightline to the small office where Raven had holed herself into after the argument. Whether it was to hide away from them or the entire situation was hard to say.

Ozpin had gone up to see her awhile ago. The fact he hadn’t been kicked out yet was probably a good sign.

“Blake, you saw it all too. Do you really think she’s nothing but a bad person?” She asked. Blake didn’t know Raven the way she did or Yang did or hell, even how Weiss did. This was the first time she’d truly met her and Ruby felt she could trust her friend’s opinion to not be clouded by emotion like it was for nearly everyone else in the room.

As she’d suspected, her teammate contemplated the question for a long, quiet moment before answering in slow measure, “I think… that even the worst of people can still do good things. What she did for your mother was noble, but it doesn’t mean the bad she’s done doesn’t need to be atoned for.”

“Right…” It wasn’t quite the answer she’d been hoping for, but maybe that was why she needed to hear it.

Blake started to say something more, but a shout from across the room interrupted her, “Blake! You coming or what?”

Her ears flicked and she looked over her shoulder, then back to her questioningly.

Ruby only smiled. “Go on. I’ll get in touch if I need anything, promise.”

“Yeah, alright.” She agreed easily enough, before she hurried across the room where Yang and Weiss were waiting. “Coming!”

The doors shut with a clang and she was alone.

Ruby sighed, flopping over onto the duvet. She stared up at the ceiling, listlessly tracing the metallic rafting while her thoughts swirled together in a chaotic mess. What were they going to do now? While her eyes may have bought them some time, it was fleeting. They had a few more hours, a day at most, before Salem’s forces came for them. They had to be ready, because now with Knowledge’s power safely in her hands, she wouldn’t hold back a second time. The hard light dust Robyn’s crew had managed to pilfer would only hold so long.

How were they possibly going to protect everyone here? It wouldn’t even be comparable to the situation at Argus. With only a little over a dozen of them to face off against the threat, there was no way they could be everywhere at once.

People were definitely going to die.

Ruby’s idle eyes looked back to the office.

Unless…

She sat up, heart jumping with sudden hope. Raven’s semblance was tied to dad. They could evacuate everyone, right now! Between that and Jaune keeping her aura up, they could probably get it done in a few hours. But they had to get started now, before Salem was on the move again.

Determination zinged through her as Ruby rushed for the stairs.

She got about halfway up them before she paused.

But, was that the right call?

With everyone suddenly just gone, it wouldn’t take long for Salem to figure out what they’d done. Even if they had Raven go to Patch with the citizens, once their enemy deduced that Raven was willing to come to their aid… how quickly would she shift their targets to Yang or Qrow? After everything her mother had sacrificed to keep them all safe, was it right of her to so willfully put their lives in the crossfire that way?

Would she have to convince Yang and Qrow to leave as well? Would they even go?

Then, there was Raven herself. She was a wild card that Ruby had yet to understand. Even if she persuaded her to help them, which she was certain she could, would she willingly leave? She thought the answer was obvious but, after all Ruby had learned today, she wasn’t as sure on that as she once was.

She started up the stairs once more, slower than before. She didn’t know, but she was on to something. But even she’d admit she always led more with her heart than her mind. It was easy to stand for what was right; it was knowing the best way to do so that tended to trip her up. She knew if she brought it up to the others though, they’d help to finetune it.

Until they got back though, she could get started with the hard part – the part she was good at.

As Ruby reached the door, she was surprised to find it was open a crack, just enough to hear Ozpin’s voice slipping through.

“-Really quite unexpected, knowing we had another helping hand at Haven. I was wondering why things went so oddly well.”

A scoff. “Spare me. If I was that good at manipulating things, the little heiress wouldn’t have gotten stabbed.” The next part was so low, Ruby almost missed it. “I told Vernal to go easy.”

“Ah yes, plans never do go quite according to one’s machinations, as I’ve well discovered over the centuries. Such is the plight of allowing people to make their own choices, but I think we’d both agree that’s a gift that can’t be forsaken, yes?” After months without him, hearing that familiar mirth and kindness was like meeting an old friend again, leaving Ruby yearning with nostalgia for simpler times, when the world wasn’t at stake and her biggest enemy was her test scores.

As the silence held on, she shook off the memories and reached for the doorknob, deciding now was as good a time as any to interrupt. Light spilled into the dark room, almost touching the crates that Raven and Ozpin were sitting on. They both turned to her, their forms illuminated in the gloomy shadows cast from the gray clouds that clung to Solitas in a permanent storm.

“Hello Miss Rose, is everything alright?” Ozpin greeted her, gentle but guarded.

She wondered if he thought she would blame him for her mother’s choices too. “Yeah. Everyone’s gone off to help with the defenses.” She shifted from foot to foot. “I was hoping I could talk to Raven for a bit? Alone?”

The two shared a look, but when Raven nodded Ozpin got to his feet. “Of course.” As he passed her, she caught a flash of yellow, then Oscar was whispering, “Good luck.” She smiled back at him until the shutting door separated them.

She turned back around and was immediately pinned by that blood-red glare.

“Come to lecture me?” Raven asked sharply.

Ruby took a slow breath. Remember, she’s not as scary as she pretends to be. She squared her shoulders and strode forward. “No. Though you probably should be ready to hear it from Yang and Uncle Qrow again when they get back.”

“Oh, believe me I know.” Her eyes rolled back to the window, frown becoming more pronounced.

Ruby took the spot Ozpin had vacated. “I’m sorry they were so harsh. They’re just angry.”

“Yeah well, can’t say I didn’t expect it. Or that I don’t deserve it.” She sighed. “Figured you’d be the same.”

She sounded so weary.

Ruby tried to hold onto the advice Blake had given her or to mimic the way her family felt or even pull up the misgivings she’d had back at Haven.

Instead, all she could see was the woman her mom believed in, the one she entrusted her last request with.

“It’d be easy to be angry with you. Because you’re here.” Ruby clasped her hands between her knees, murmuring like she was telling a secret, “But it’s mom I’m angry at. Isn’t that awful? She gives her life for the world and I’m mad at her for it.”

She heard the crate creak as Raven shifted, leaning back on her palms. “You kidding? I’ve been mad at her for fifteen years. Always told her that her kindheartedness was going to kill her, one day. I hate that I was right.”

“Do you… hate her?”

“No.” She shook her head, smiling for the first time. “I admire her.”

Ruby blinked. “You do?”

“Always.” When Raven looked at her this time, the heat that had been there every time before had dissipated, leaving something almost kind in its wake. “You know, when I first came to Vale, I was sure I had the whole world figured out. That people were all terrible and only looking out for themselves. So, when I met Summer I remember thinking, ‘no way is this girl for real’.” She chuckled. “I couldn’t fathom someone like her. I thought she had to be naïve, clueless. Lost in some fantasy she’d made up, where people were intrinsically good. It was kind of annoying, really. She’d be the type of person to trust a pickpocket to hold her wallet – which she did once. Took me hours to track the little bastard down and get it back.”

None of what was being said was news to Ruby. Whenever dad or Uncle Qrow spoke of her mom, it was always with that same sort of reverence – until the person she imagined in her head was nothing short of perfect. But while Raven seemed to hold her up to a similar standard, her words sounded borderline exasperated, as if her mom’s antics had been truly exhausting.

It kind of made Ruby wonder if this was the same way Weiss viewed her, even as she brought her coffee after a brutal cram session.

The thought made her smile. “So, what made you change your mind?”

“Honestly, I think she was just so persistent, one day I just gave up.” Raven snorted, idly pulling at the red beads around her neck. This close, Ruby could see they had designs, faded from time, etched on them. One with feathers, one with dragons, and one with roses. “But also because… I started to understand. It wasn’t that she thought everyone was good, but that they all had an equal capability to be good. She’d tell me all the time that just because you make a bad decision one day, it doesn’t mean you can’t make a better one tomorrow.”

Ruby perked up a bit, at that. “Dad used to say that to me a lot, when I was a kid. I didn’t know it came from mom.”

“Oh Gods, it was practically her motto. It was so aggravating! But...” Her fingers curled around the rose beads. “It was also nice. Summer and I may not have seen eye to eye on, well, almost everything really. But no matter what, she always thought the best of me. She made me want to be that person she believed I could be and so, I tried. And, for a time… I found I liked the me I was.”

The omission of what came after that time needed no clarification.

Yet, the fact Raven was saying it at all told Ruby a league of things she once could only guess at.

…She hoped Yang might one day be able to come to those same conclusions. Maybe then, she could finally put her own turmoil to rest.

“I think you should try and like the you that you are now, too.” Ruby told her confidently, pleased with herself when Raven just stared at her in surprise. “And thank you, for telling me all this. It’s always nice to hear about mom.”

She followed her gaze when it drifted back to the sight outside yet again. “Not like I have anything left to lose.”

Whatever small levity they had found died out, as they stared at the overwhelming impossibility before them. Just as Salem’s army did, dread and terror also edged closer, threatening to overtake them.

“We’ll stop her.” Ruby assured.

“No. We won’t.” Raven bowed forward, coal dark hair so like Yang’s tumbling forth until it hid her face. A fire long gone out. “I tried, when we had Choice. I had to of made a thousand different requests. But every time when it came to Salem, the answer was always the same. ‘It can’t be done’.”

She sucked in a sharp breath. That was why, back at Haven, Raven had seemed so certain of what she was saying. She had known the truth well before any of them – and the cruelest twist of fate was, she couldn’t tell them how she’d come across that fact.

“How are we supposed to beat someone beyond even the Gods’ powers?”

That question, the weight of it, felt like it could crush them. Without the solution, there was no relief from the pressure. As Ruby got to her feet, she knew she could only stand against its attempts to hold her down as she said, “I don’t know. But I do know giving up is the wrong call.”

She turned to the other woman, seeing in her desperate, beseeching expression what the years of holding onto her mother’s last hope had done to her.

“I know how hard it must have been for you, holding onto that secret this long. It must have been so lonely. I wouldn’t blame you if you want to stop fighting. No one can ask more of you than you’ve already given. But,” As her mom had all that time ago, she held her hand out to her. “If there’s still something inside of you that wants to keep going, then we’d be happy to have you on one last mission.”

Raven looked from the offer to her. A smile pulled at the edges of her lips even as she shook her head. “Heh. Alright.”

She reached out, clasping their hands together.

“One more time.”

[secret-engima]

Cloud Strife reborn as Prompto argentum???

*ancient plunny revives with a scream* *I slam the lid back down on it with a surprised screech*

WHY YOU DO THIS TO ME. BUCKLE UP WE’RE GETTING A FREAKING FICLET.

-Cloud Strife dies, old and ... contented for the most part. He’s lived a good life. Not an easy one, or even a kind one, but ... good. He dies and he slides into the Lifestream, and Zack and Aerith welcome him with open arms.

-And for a very, very long time, he drifts. He is ... partially aware of the world beyond the Lifestream, but he mostly doesn’t care. He did his part, saved it more than a few times, he’s earned his rest.

-Zack and Aerith like to keep an eye on the world though, partly out of curiosity and partly out of care, and they keep him apprised of certain things. Of Minerva raising new Guardians of the world via the Summons, assigning some to guard the Star from threats from beyond, some as Messengers who function much like old Summons. They tell him about the rise and fall of a civilization called Solheim and Cloud mourns a little at the rush of new residents in the Lifestream that follows Ifrit’s wrath.

-Then Aerith comes to him and tells him-

-That Ifrit went too far. His anger runs too deep. It’s ... done something. Jenova is dead and gone, but some of her taint lingered in the scars of the world and Ifrit’s anger FUSED with those old wisps to birth something new. Something terrible. Something called the Starscourge.

-And Cloud gets a nasty feeling that his time of rest is coming to an end.

-Still, he doesn’t leave. He doesn’t want to. But now he takes to watching occasionally with Zack and Aerith as the Astrals struggle to stop what one of their own created, as Bahamut crafts a mighty Crystal, a direct conduit to the power of the Lifestream and all the old magics that used to be found freely in Materia but that Gaia had long ago pulled back for fear of humanity’s abuse. Bahamut tracks down two families, one descended of Tifa’s children, blue eyed and black haired and Stubborn, another descended of Genesis of all people, skilled in magic and poets at heart. Bahamut blesses them with magic and tells them they will save the world.

-Cloud watches in spurts and flickers, dropping into awareness every century or so. The two family lines have no yet cured the Scourge, the taint still spreads, inch by inch and victim by victim.

-Aerith cries her heart out when Ardyn is born, and rises, and falls. It’s not fair. It’s not FAIR for another to suffer like this. Ardyn was as close to an Ancient as could ever be and he tried so HARD, but he was too immature in his magic, he didn’t have the same knowledge that Aerith or even Zack and Cloud had about magic and so he was infected. But his magic was too strong to let him die from it.

-Cloud goes and yells at Minerva with Zack a little bit, and she looks at them wearily and explains she CAN’T do anything. Gaia has given the world of the living to the Astrals. Minerva can no longer directly interfere and Bahamut refuses to listen.

-And time continues to unspool. Bahamut has bound Gaia (now called Eos) to a Prophecy and all they can do is watch it play out.

-Unless...

-Titan comes to them in secret, without Bahamut’s knowledge or permission. Titan is of Earth and the Earth is of the Lifestream, he is the closest still to being the Titan of old, the closest to memories of when Eos was Gaia and Gaia had Champions. Titan is a patience creature, but not unkind. He, unlike the others, has remained awake and part of the world after catching the great Meteor, has seen humans struggle and live and love and die. He remembers the old Champions... and so he asks.

-One more time?

-Cloud is tired just thinking about it. He is not a hero, not in his own eyes, he is just a screwup, an experiment gone wrong and broken free of its strings. But he loves his friends, and the people who are descended of Tifa and Genesis and all his old companions. He loves the world still and most of all ... he loves Aerith and Zack. His brother and sister of heart. So when Aerith and Zack step forward to accept Titan’s plan, what can Cloud do but quietly step forward as well and offer to fight one more time?

-Titan thanks them, and he and Minerva make a plan. Already time is drawing short. They cannot simply DO THIS and hope for the best, they must place them where they have the most chance of changing things. Titan and Minerva settle on an idea and Minerva apologizes to Cloud, specifically.

-Cloud is pulled under before he can ask why. And for a long time that is the last he knows.

-Awareness comes back in flickers and spurts and the feel of bubbling green liquid on his skin. Sight comes diluted by the water of a tank.

-Cloud emerges from his tank screaming and thrashing, and the men in white coats take note of his unusual energy and reactions to the first of the Scourge treatments.

-Cloud feels the Scourge slide into his veins like an old, hated friend and screams louder, but magic is soul and soul is magic and Cloud’s soul has already battled something far worse than this diluted, spiteful plague. It consumes the Scourge in his veins, twists it into familiar channels and patterns that will someday make Cloud unnaturally strong and fast and keen of senses despite his scrawny frame and normal appearance.

-For now though, Cloud shivers in his sparks of fragile awareness and hates that he ever agreed to this.

-Of course he was reborn in a FREAKING LABORATORY.

-Cloud isn’t sure how long he stays in the lab, fading from awareness only to launch back to the forefront of the infantile mind this body has in fits and spurts. Just that it’s too long. Long enough for the men to mark him like a candy bar, long enough for them to pump gallon after gallon of Scourge in his veins and take confused notes when his body absorbs it and twists it into something different out of self-defense.

-He wakes up at one point to hear someone shuffling around the lab they moved him into. Someone with a different tread from the guards and the scientists. Cloud whines despite himself, flails with frustrating tiny limbs as a strange face appears above his sealed not-crib. Ice blue eyes look into Cloud’s, and Cloud knows in an instant this man is not of the lab. This man is dressed wrong, moves wrong, FEELS like he doesn’t belong, like there is a star pulsing softly under his skin.

-Cloud reaches for the man with another whine he can’t help and starts crying silently because Stupid Baby Instincts.

-He’s honestly surprised when the man blinks twice, sighs at the ceiling and mutters over his own idiocy, and then breaks open Cloud’s not-crib container. Alarms screech in his overly sensitive ears as the man clumsily hefts Cloud’s tiny infant self into his arms and RUNS. Cloud has never been so grateful for another person’s recklessness in his entire life.

-The man runs and hides and carts him what feels like halfway across the world, bumbling through childcare in a way that Cloud is pretty sure a normal baby wouldn’t have survived. Cloud is probably JUST shy of a year old when the man stumbles into a city that is coated with magic and makes his way to a huge building that practically THROBS with magic in a way that makes Cloud’s baby skin crawl and the not-Scourge in his blood shiver.

-The man is apparently named Cor, at least according to the other two men who yell that name as he stumbles into a private study with Cloud wrapped in his tattered jacket. Cloud can’t stop his tiny baby body from bursting into tears at the yelling (sound was too-loud-TOOLOUDMAKEITSTOP) and the dead, stunned silence is almost gratifying.

-“I couldn’t leave him,” Cor rasps to the other two men as they tentatively inspect Cloud, “I just- the things they were DOING to him, Regis. The things in the reports- I couldn’t leave him.”

-“Well you can’t keep him,” protests one of the men as the other holds out a finger for Cloud to hold and coos, “Niflheim will become suspicious. Especially since the boy looks nothing like you.”

-“I’m not killing him,” Cor SNARLS, holding Cloud too tightly to be comfortable. Both men raise their hands placatingly and promise that was NOT what they were implying.

-They end up giving Cloud away after having their doctors poke and prod and confirm he’s not infected with anything (how they miss the not-Scourge in his veins Cloud will never know). Cloud can’t stop himself from clinging to Cor when the man gives him away, because Cor might not have a clue how to raise a kid, but Cor was kind and SAFE and Cloud didn’t want to him to leave.

-But leave the man does. And the couple takes him home. They name him Prompto Argentum.

-And for a long time after that, Cloud is all alone.

-Oh they take care of his physical needs, and they are affectionate for a while, but they are busy people, and Cloud is too mature and strange, and so they slowly drift away.

-Cloud tells himself it’s fine. He can use the alone time to study at his true mental level rather than baby books and he can train his body to keep up with the burning, roiling power in his veins from the Not-Scourge that has given him skills and abilities dangerously similar to what he had post-Hojo. He tells himself that it’s fine as he looks for Zack and Aerith in the faces of every child and adult he meets and finds nothing. He tells himself it’s fine.

-The part of him that remembers raising Denzel, the part that held Tifa close when her beau left her after she refused to get rid of the child growing insider her and then helped her raise that child as if he was the father even when he wasn’t, knows it’s not.

-Cloud watches the news for word of Cor and wonders if the man knows (or would care) that the baby he saved is growing up raising HIMSELF rather than being loved and doted on as the couple promised.

-He avoids the children at school. One because he is mentally much older, and two because he can feel his SOLDIER strength coming back to him every passing year, fed to him through the gate opened by the Not-Scourge in his blood and the dreams Minerva sends him, promising that he will not be alone forever.

-He avoids the children for their own safety in case he has a panic attack about the labs of either lifetime and the things that were done to him.

-He avoids.

-Until one day, when Cloud is seven years old and has hidden himself in the farthest corner of the playground possible to get away from the too-loud noise of gossiping children on his too-sensitive ears, the new student the teachers mentioned (that Cloud hadn’t paid attention to) tromps up, squats down next to him and holds out a hand, “Hey,” he whispers as if he knows that Cloud is having a sensory overload day, “My name’s Noctis. Wanna be friends?”

-Cloud stares at blue, blue eyes the color of the sky, feels magic already wrapping around him in a boisterous sort of invisible hug and feels tears well up, “P-prompto.”

-The boy grins at him, bright as the sun in a way that almost hides the age in his eyes, “Hmmm, that’s a cool name and all, but I’m gonna give you a nickname. How about ... Cloud?”

-And Cloud knows.

-“Zack!” He wheezes as he lunges forward to catch his friend in a hug that is returned with equal desperation.

-“I’m here, buddy. I’m here. Sorry I took so long to find you.”

-Noctis (Zack) and Prompto (Cloud) are inseparable from that point on. Zack drags Cloud to his limo after school and Cloud has no issues coming over for a sleepover that he knows is probably not going to end until they hit their age of majority. The other boy in the back seat (Ignis) eyes Cloud warily, but then smiles and welcomes him.

-Once at Zack’s house (the freaking Citadel, so much for being a simple country boy), Zack and Cloud cry their eyes out and plan and acknowledge that Minerva and Titan needed kicks in the teeth for making Zack be reborn as the CHOSEN KING. Now they just need to find Aerith.

-“Betcha she’s the Oracle” Cloud says as he sprawls on the sinfully fluffy carpet and glares at the ceiling.

-Zack whines because his wife is so far away!!

-Cloud thinks Regis chokes on his wine a little bit when Zack drags Cloud to dinner and introduces him by his “official” name. Cloud wonders if Regis remembers the tiny infant he made Cor give away.

-(Regis looks at the new friend his son has made, with blue eyes that seem to glow when in shadows and who wears a leather armband over one wrist at all times, and oh, OH he remembers. He remembers and he wonders with a swoop of dread if this friendship is really just coincidence).

-SO. Some other thoughts on this monster AU plunny: Aerith is Luna (obviously) and writes to the boys the moment Pryna and Umbra are old enough to use as messengers. Noctis is known for being a hyper, cheerful oddball while Prompto is his quiet, melancholy and too-serious friend that can bench press a suit of armor despite looking like a shrimp.

-Cor has a minor heart attack upon meeting Cloud, who instantly gloms onto him as if he remembers Cor (but that’s impossible, kids don’t remember things before the age of three right? RIGHT?).

-Prompto is not the sharpshooter in this verse. Sorry he isn’t. Cloud hates guns for Reasons (coughZack’s deathcough) and he is unnaturally strong. Of COURSE he’s going to take to swords at an early age. He designs his Fusion sword when he’s fourteen and Noctis/Zack splurges his entire royal allowance to get it forged by the royal weapons makers just for Cloud.

-Cloud is there when the Marilith thing happens, it was a road trip playdate that Regis grudgingly allowed.

-Regis shows up in time to see two tiny 7-8 year old children fighting off a Marilith with magic sparking off their bodies like supernovas, Prompto’s eyes glowing an eerie blue as he picks up a dead Crownsguard’s sword and wields it like its a paperweight and Noctis’s eyes burn blood red as he spams lightning spells and whoops like its all a game.

-Regis is Very Sure that neither of these boys are entirely normal. Or sane. But he’s just so glad they’re alive.

-Tenebrae invasion happens without Noctis being there, Luna/Aerith meets Ardyn and promptly begins working her Flower Girl magic.

-Ardyn may or may not show up at the Citadel two years later with Oracle kids in tow, looking to defect and feeling 120% more sane since taking to wearing Luna’s flower crowns and walking in the garden in the rain with her (hint hint, wink wink, nudge nudge).

-Noctis spots Luna, hurtles up at top speed, and announces to all and sundry that HI. HE’S NOCTIS. HE’S GOING TO MARRY YOU.

-While Regis tries to explain art you can’t just SAY THAT, Luna kneels down to be eye level with the now younger love of her life and tells him that if he still wants to marry her when he turns 19, then she will gladly oblige.

-Cloud and Ardyn hold a staring contest during which Ardyn rapidly puts together some pieces about the Chosen King child, the Oracle, and this little escaped Lab Boy and starts cackling like a lunatic.

-BAHAMUT YOU’RE IN FOR A WAKEUP CALL.

-Also at one point Titus and Prompto are alone in the same room for like- twenty minutes because Prompto is hiding in Titus’s office. Titus and him hold a staring contest before Titus’s lips twitch and his eyes flicker an eerie green.

-“Hello Cloud,” he purrs, “You aren’t angry I’m here?”

-Cloud crosses his arms and huffs goodnaturedly, “Who do you think talked Minerva into kicking your moping butt out for a second chance, Sephiroth? Also, if you’re using that creepy armor under your skin as an excuse to hurt Zack and his family-.”

-“Never,” Sephiroth says firmly, “I have been the slave of my experimenters before. I have no desire to be so again. I currently feed Regis information gleaned from General Glauca and only give the Empire non-information cleared ahead of time by the king.”

-“Okay then.”

-“Indeed.”

-And that is the start of the Glaives living confusion fever dream where they keep walking in on their Captain holding the WEIRDEST conversations with a Smol Child (or Children, Noctis gets in on it too) that range from insult contests and mockery of each other’s sword techniques to deep, soul-searching questions of existence and magic and how it relates to the soul.

-Nyx would really like it if life could start making sense again pls. These never happened before Prompto Argentum came along.

[deathpuppies12]

The Bombing of Emotions

Cloud Strife x Teen! Reader

Part III

Apologizes

 (Y/n)'s POV I jolt up in my chair, the person living next door making really loud noises next door. Cloud flips out of bed, grabbing his Buster sword in the process.

 "Damn", I whisper out that was pretty cool. 

Cloud leaves to go check on our neighbor, he tells me to stay put. Huh, this is gonna last a while. I curl back up on the chair trying to fall back asleep. I hearing yelling from out side. I jump from my chair and rush through the door. Cloud is standing over an old cloaked man on the ground. 

"Cloud what are you doing", I shout! 

"(Y/n), go back inside, it's not safe out here", Cloud says, with real fear in his eyes. 

"Cloud, what are you doing get back inside", Tifa yells from behind me.

 What the hell is going on, I run back into our room.

What the hell, I feel so sick. I sit down on the bed trying to regain my breath. My chest starts to hurt, is this what it feels like to pass out. I lay back on the bed, my eyes drifting closed.

Cloud's POV After that odd encounter I go back to my room. Looking towards the bed, I see (Y/n) sprawled out on the bed. I chuckle and go over to fix her. I guess I'll take the floor.

 I truly don't mind, I know she is gonna make a big deal tomorrow. If she evens talks to me. God I really fucked up, obviously she was just trying to get answers. I got to find a way to apologize properly to her. Maybe I could buy her some new materia, she would love that. With this plan in my head, I dose off.

I wake, luckily with no back pain. 

"Oh, you're awake, good Tifa said she was waiting at the bar for you", (Y/n) says. 

"Oh, Ok, well we should get going then", I say getting ready. 

"I didn't think you would want me to come with you", she says. 

"I... I'm sorry about yesterday, I shouldn't have been so harsh and I have a way to make up to you", I tell her.

 She seems surprised but gets up and gets ready anyway.

(Y/n) POV He has a way to make it up to me. That is so un-Cloud like. Collecting my things and throwing my backpack on, I follow Cloud outside. Maybe sense Cloud is apologizing I should try to make it up to him to. I mean, I did completely not listen to him and made him really worried. 

"Hey Cloud, I'm sorry to, I shouldn't have ran off on my own like that, I just, I was tired of not getting answers and thought this was my chance". 

Cloud doesn't say anything right away, I didn't expect him to.

 "It's fine, I haven’t been completely honest with you any way, some of the answers your looking for, I know but i'm worried about how your gonna react".

 This shocks me, he knew things and didn't tell me. I don't want to start another argument so I move on but I know this is gonna bug me all day now.  

We reach the bar, this place is actual really nice.

 "Just letting you know, we are gonna be running around town doing jobs for people today, so if you don't wanna go with, say so now", Cloud warns me. 

Well of course i wanna go with, especially cause I didn't get to go with on the last job. Heading inside the bar, I final get to take a chance to look around. They have multiple game machines and a dart board in the corner. All in all it looks pretty nice in here.

 I follow Cloud to the counter where Tifa is. I wait silently to finish their conversation. I wonder if she is like Cloud's secret crush or girlfriend. I'm gonna have to tease him about this later, or use it as blackmail. 

what I gathered from the short conversation was that we are going to be changing filters for people. Cool, another job where I sit around and watch, fun.

While were out changing filters we met a handful of weird people. One guy even called Cloud a punk-ass bitch, yeah never going there again. I met some of the people he worked with the other night, they were very energetic.

 final for the weird people we met, a boy who talks very robotic and can apparently make materia based on information gives him. Also Cloud gave me new materia, a assess materia and a healing materia. The best part about the day was finding out information about Shinra, which is a power company.

 After the long day we head back to the bar for a break. I take a seat at a table while Cloud and Tifa go to the counter to hang out. I pull out my clip board and pull out the files. Now that I know that Shinra is a power company, these will make more sense. 

I don't have much time to look at them though before that big man from last comes bursting into the bar. I quick jump to put my things away, while shuffling around the inside of the bag my hand brushes against a zipper I've never felt before. What the hell, how have I never seen or touched that before. I'll have to check that out later.

More people walk into the room, including the people that Cloud had worked with last night.  They use a game machine to get into a secret basement. Whoa, I want a secret basement game machine thing. 

I look back over towards Cloud to see him sitting at the counter by himself. I'll go keep him company. I waltz over to Cloud and sit next to him. 

"So is Tifa like your girlfriend or something", 

I lean on my elbow looking at him. 

He coughs on his drink, "No". 

"Oh, so you just have a not so secret crush on her", I tease him. 

"Shut up", I can see a slight smile on Clouds face. 

I giggle, I'm glad me and Cloud aren't fighting anymore.

 "Wanna play a round of darts", I ask him. 

"Sure".

I regret playing darts with Cloud. He's kicking my ass at this, how is he so good. Cloud wins for the fifth time and also gets the highest score on the board.

 "Alright I give up", I throw my hands up in mock surrender.

 Cloud only laughs at my suffering. 

"So, Cloud I didn't tell you, I found a secret pouch in the backpack", I tell Cloud.

 "Whats in it", Cloud asks.

 "Well I don't know yet, I like just found it", I reply. 

"We can both check it out later and I tell you all the answers you wanna know ok", Cloud says.

 I smile and give him a thumbs up, "I can't wait".

[miss-tc-nova]

A SOLDIER’s Memories - Cloud Strife x Fem!Reader Pt 4

AAAAH! I’ve been working on this for a couple weeks writing and deleting and rearranging and editing and aaaahhh! 

Part 4: SOLDIER’s Honor

                It’s been five years since I lost everything important to me, since I lost my reason for living, and since my promotion to SOLDIER First Class. Now I’m just a glorified dog doing as the master says. Since the disappearance of the top SOLDIERs, I’ve become Shinra’s scapegoat figurehead for the program. They raise me up to symbolize peace and protection and even female empowerment as the first female SOLDIER, encouraging others to join because “even a slum rat can become a hero.” I’m the ultimate underdog who rose to the top, but they’ll never breathe a word of the true story.

                Some pests have been attacking our reactors. This AVALANCHE group is quickly climbing the list of those to that need to be eliminated. What bothers me most is that there are rumors that a rogue First Class SOLDIER is among them, but with so few of us, I can’t think of a single one that’s gone missing without cause.

                The Sector 1 reactor has just been destroyed. Pulling a cloak over my uniform, I plan to do a little investigation. The rebels are supposedly hiding out somewhere in the slums. If I can stop them, I can prevent some serious Shinra retaliation and prevent innocent lives being ruined; at least that’s what the little cat-bot begged of me. With the hood up to hide my face, I take my leave.

                I start at Sector 8, planning to intercept the rebels or work my way back through the sectors in search of them. Shouts and gunfire catch my attention. Bolting in that direction, I find a single man standing among a heap of fallen Shinra officers. The rumors appear to be true: he’s clad in a First Class uniform.

                “I suppose it was to be expected that standard infantrymen wouldn’t stand up to you.” I announce my presence, drawing my favored weapon and revealing my title.

                The man whirls on me, wielding a strikingly familiar sword. Before I can question him, I catch sight of his face and I black out for a second.

                The man grimaces but quickly regains control. His entire body tenses, grip tightening on the hilt. “It’s been a long time. Maybe you can put up a fight.”

                “You…” I utter in disbelief. “They told me you were dead.”

                “Guess they lied.”

                There’s something different about him. Then I see the glow in his eyes; he’s been exposed to mako. The blood drains from my face when I remember that SOLDIERs are monsters born from mako. He adjusts his weapon and I take a step back.

                “I don’t remember you being a coward,” he says. “But maybe they don’t hold standards for us First Class like they used to.”

                “Us?” I repeat, stunned.

                His chin rises in defiance. “That’s right. Ex-SOLDIER. First Class. Same as you, remember.”

                This is nothing like the man I remember; he’s dark and confrontational. Whatever they did to him, they ruined the Cloud that I had fallen in love with. Not only that, but he seems to think he was SOLDIER. My thoughts race as I try to understand what I’ve fallen into.

                “What’s wrong with you? Did you blow up the reactor?” I snarl, frustration and hysteria building. His silence is answer enough. “What the hell were you thinking?!”

                His weapon rises, prepared to strike. “Are you going to fight or not?”

                “I don’t know what game you think you’re playing, but it’s over.”

                “Sounds like a fight then.”

                Shinra infantry have standard sword training, but tend to have higher proficiencies in firearms; Cloud was no exception. However, mako exposure enhances a person’s physical abilities, including muscle mass; it doesn’t exactly make up for skill though. So while I’m impressed he can even wield the Buster Sword, he’s probably barely a match for even a Third Class SOLDIER. He’s easy to dodge and clearly has yet to build the real muscle to fight with such a heavy weapon for long.

                I divert his sword again, but can hear more yelling in the distance; more troops are on their way. I could put a stop to Cloud’s nonsense right now; take him to the ground and drag him back with me. The problem is what Shinra will do with him when I do. The company is very iffy about its employees, let alone when they leave, but Cloud is not only acting as if he were SOLDIER but he’s also threatening every life here in Midgar. Shinra would destroy him. If I take him back with me now, they’ll kill him for sure.

                Once again, I prevent him from tearing into me. “Listen to me, whatever AVALANCHE is doing, it needs to stop.”

                “I don’t take orders from you.”

                “I’m not playing around! You need to get out of here and stop terrorizing Midgar!”

                Cloud prepares to launch another attempted onslaught, but my reinforcements are just around the corner.

                My weapons drop and Cloud’s brows knit together. I take one last chance to take in his face, to truly process that this is Cloud Strife, and then I pull my hood back up and stride away in a back alley. Before I get out of range, I pause.

                If I get caught here, I’m in deep trouble. But if he gets caught…

                Turning back, I see he’s surrounded. He hasn’t built the stamina to fight with the Buster Sword so the troop surrounding him now has a fair chance of taking him down. He backs away from them and I watch on, fighting with myself about what I’ll do if he’s caught. It’s his greatest fortune that a train passes beneath us, which he takes to make his getaway.

                The Shinra employees disperse and, for a moment, I stare at the spot where I found him, where I discovered that my lost love is still alive.

                Spinning on heel, I storm down the alley. Tears muddle my vision but I continue. Every step is agony; I want to chase him down, throw him against a wall, and scream and cry and demand answers. There’s not a trace of those old feelings—feelings that I’m still suffering over. I’ve been left behind to mourn the past while he’s masquerading as a SOLDIER. I spent years in a self-loathing hell and he just turns up out of nowhere like we’ve never met before. I’m furious and enraged and…sad.

                “Ah, there you are, lassie.” A crowned, bi-pedal feline hops from a ladder. “I was comin’ to warn you that they spotted the terrorists…” At my feet, the cat peers up at me, suddenly not as eager as he was before. “Are you alright?”

                “Did you know?” I manage to get out in a dark tone. Amongst my tsunami of emotions, it’s amazing I can speak to him so evenly. He takes a step back. “Did you know it was him?!” Before he can scurry away, I snatch him up and hold him against the wall by his neck. “Answer me! Or I swear I’ll scrap you for parts and use your pelt to shine my boots!” When he stammers, I scream, “DID YOU KNOW WHO HE WAS?!”

                He frantically waves his hands. “No! I don’t know who they are! All I know is that they call themselves AVALANCHE and that there was a SOLDIER among them!”

                “Don’t toy with me!” I snarl.

                “I swear! I haven’t even seen their faces!” For a robot, he’s pretty genuine. I don’t know if he’s telling me the truth or not, but I won’t get any information out of him like this.

                I attempt to control my sigh, trying to release the anger but hold in the sadness. My fingers uncurl, letting my informant fall to his feet. Mildly ashamed of myself, I turn away from him.

                “So…You know these people?” he asks with caution in his voice.

                “I know the SOLDIER,” I mutter bitterly.

                “Then perhaps there’s a way to negotiate with them. Maybe he’ll listen to you.”

                I shake my head. “There’s nothing between us. He’ll try to cut me down if I get in his way.” Each word comes with spurs—painful to say.

                “Come on. I need you to try. There’s talks of how Shinra’s gonna deal with these terrorists and hundreds, maybe thousands, of casualties could happen!” he begs. It’s the same line he got me with last time.

                I don’t know this cat; I don’t know who he works for, who’s controlling him, or what he wants. I came to investigate the reactor bombing because it was in my best interest as well. He says he’s trying to prevent the loss of human life, but he’s got some sort of line in Shinra; he’s got to with information like this. That being said, if there’s even a trace of a connection between him and Shinra, I could be signing my own death warrant.

                “You realize that I’m a Shinra employee, right?” I snap. “Why should I help you? Why the hell would you ask a First Class SOLDIER to try and prevent whatever the hell the top dogs are up to?”

                His ears droop a bit as if I’ve just crushed his hopes with my bare hands. “Because you seemed to be the only SOLDIER with any honor left.”

                Memories of my best friend ranting and stomping about proclaiming the honor of SOLDIER as the most important thing a SOLDIER could have blinks in my brain like a faulty light at the end of a dark road. Guilt is now swimming among the debris of my sanity. It provokes the grief and antagonizes the resentment.

                “You think SOLDIERs have honor?” I retort, the prevalent anger rolling off me. “Well you’re fucking wrong!” He hurries up the ladder, out of my reach. “We’re just mutts doing as the master says before he puts a bullet in our brains for being disobedient! He says heel, we do; he says, roll over, we do; he says kill! We! Do! Doesn’t matter who or when or why!” I shake a fist at him. “Where’s the honor in that?! Huh?! So don’t you fucking try to sweet-talk me into another one of your damn intervention schemes because the last thing I need is to explain that a talking, robot cat convinced me to ruin Shinra’s plans while there’s a fucking gun against my head! Got it! I don’t wanna be part of your little hero game! It’s not gonna turn out in your favor! So leave me out of it!”

                Wanting to get out of this situation, to forget everything, I continue storming down the alley.

                “W-Wait! You’re the only one who can help me!” he calls out.

                “Didn’t you hear me?! Fuck off!” I shout, leaving the cat behind.

                At the Shinra compound, I end up locked in my room where everything and anything is a tool in a vain attempt to relieve this agony. 

[itsafanficthing]

The Paper Boy

Note: This came out of a picture of Sam Heughan filming/ recording (??) for his podcast Clanlands. @balfeheughlywed posted about it and about a paperboy au, and somehow this came out. If I get inspired I will write more. But for now there is this. Un-beta'ed and barely spellchecked.

You can also read it on A03 Here

Jamie Fraser had been running his paper route for nearly six months. He was good at it. He knew the streets, knew the shortcuts to take on his second-hand bike and thanks to all the peddling, his calves were coming along quite nicely thank you very much.

He’d grown up in the area, and knew it like the back of his hand. So when he’d asked for a job from Murtagh Fitzgibbons, the grumpy old man that ran the newsagency, he knew he’d get the job. It probably helped that Murtagh was also his godfather but who was counting nepotism on a simple paper route.

It wasn’t a busy route. Only a few older residents of Broch Mordha liked their paper delivered by hand rather than reading the news online like the rest of the modern world. Things always did move slower in this village. “Tradition” they called it. “Because if they didn’t follow the towns traditions, then who would?” That’s what they always said. Jamie figured it was about time for some new traditions but he didn’t dare say that out loud to anyone. He was only 16. He wasn’t meant to have an opinion yet. Not one that would be listened to anyway.

Everyone always knew each other’s business in his village. He often wondered if that was part of the tradition of the town- knowing everyone else’s news. It seemed like the adults only told each other everyone else’s news, nobody ever had news of their own.

“Did you hear that McNully’ tractor broke last week?”

“I heard that Daniel Abels’ was selling the back half of his lot. Canna keep up with the maintenance.”

“Sally Finley got into a bit of strife last week, word is she’s been seeing Arnold Erwin and Johnathon Lackie on the side. Old Arnold was’na to pleased when he got home that night, I can tell ye.”

It was a wonder they even needed the newspaper with the amount of gossip that went on in the town.

Though, it gave Jamie a job and “some responsibility, which was sorely needed” as his older sister Jenny told him, not to mention it was nice to have a little change in his pocket at the end of the day.

“Ye shorted me a paper this morning,” Jamie said as he entered the rundown newsagents to see his godfather reading the paper behind the counter. “I did’na have Walter Stuart’s paper. Now I have to go all the way back out.”

“Ye dinna need to be delivering the paper to Walter’s house anymore,” Murtagh replied gruffly as Jamie picked up a fresh copy ready to deliver.

“Did he cancel?” He asked as he dropped it back onto the pile.

“Somethin’ like that. He died yesterday morn.”

Murtagh didn’t meant to be brusque, it was just how everything came out. Murtagh’s general opinion on life was “if it can be said in five words, say it in one”. Jamie found it endearing, other people called it rude.

“He died?” Jamie repeated in surprise

“Aye. Heart attack.”

“Jesus,” Jamie said under his breath before clearing his throat at the look at he his godfather was giving him. “Well, that’s a shame. He lived alone didn’t he?”

“Aye,” Murtagh grunted- never one to get involved in anyone else’s business.

“Wonder what will happen to his place now.”

“Probably go on the market.” Murtagh shrugged before raising the paper and continuing to read, a clear indication that the conversation was closed.

Jamie bid his godfather farewell picked up his bike and rode home, his mind firmly set on what would become of Walter Stuart’s house.

—

It wasn’t on his route anymore but Jamie couldn’t help riding past Walter Stuart’s house, just to see what would become of it.

The town has been abuzz with the news of his death and a funeral was promptly organised. The older women of the village, like squawking hens, immediately came together to theorise about old Walters death.

“Heard he died in the bath, imagine that, paramedics coming to rescue ye in the altogether.”

“I heard he choked on a chicken bone, was blue in the face when they finally got to him.”

“He had a heart attack,” the wise voice of Douglas McKenzie said over all the chatter, “he was nearing 90, it’s no’ a surprise.”

One day a “For Sale” sign went up as Jamie rode past the house. Who would ever choose to move to his small town, Jamie couldn’t think, but a little over a week later a bright red “SOLD” sign was pasted across the front.

Probably another old hen coming for retirement, or an old man looking for a peaceful village in which he could live out his remaining years in solitude- like Walter.

Two weeks after the “SOLD” sign appeared, so did two large moving vans. Jamie stayed to watch a while as the removalists carried in various pieces of furniture. Eventually one of them yelled at Jamie to either “help out or scram” and he peddled away quickly.

Jamie didn’t see any movement in Walter Stuart’s house for another month after the removalists has left. He thought it was strange that someone would move all their possessions into a house, and then not turn up to live there.

Of course, the village gossip’s were having a field day guessing what it could mean.

“Who moves all their furniture but does’na live there?”

“I heard it was some rich philanthropist that wanted a house in the country. He’ll probably only be here once a week.”

“Where did you hear that Dottie? Why would someone buy a house out here? A house that someone died in no less?”

“That’s just what I heard,” Dottie replied defensively.

—

Four months after Walters funeral, the moving trucks had arrived and left and the house sat vacant with no sign of life coming or going, a light was turned on in the hallway, followed by one in the kitchen and then what everyone assumed was the lounge room. It seemed that Walter Stuart’s house had at last received its tenants.

Nobody saw them arrive, there were no new cars on the street, it was as if they had suddenly appeared.

—

Jamie was well into his job as the paperboy now. A few more houses had been added to his route and the village gossip’s (mostly older women) loved to stall him when he delivered his papers to find out any information about their neighbours, especially about those that had moved into Walter Stuart’s house.

No one had seen hide nor hair of them since they had moved in. The lights went on and off and there was the sound of laughter occasionally through an open window, but still nobody in Broch Mordha knew what the new tenants looked like.

—

Jamie had been just as curious as everyone else and stopping by the house on his morning drop off has become second nature to him. It wasn’t that he was trying to see through the curtains, or spy on them for the benefit of the villagers; it was simply curiosity.

He was sure that he had heard a young girls laughter at some point as he rode past and he was curious to know who it belonged to.

—

“Laoghaire, get back inside and make yer bed.” The shrill voice of Mrs MacKenzie sounded from inside the house as Jamie stopped to dig the paper from his satchel.

“Hi Jamie,” the shy high-pitched voice of Laoghaire made him look up in surprise as she bobbed up from behind her fence.

“Alright Laoghaire.”

He saw her blush a deep red as he said hello and he handed her a newspaper. Girls were confusing, she was two years his junior and seemed to be out front every morning ready to take the paper from him.

“Have ye had a busy mornin’?” She asked eagerly.

“I suppose. As busy as any other,” he replied as he steadied his bike again. “See ye later then.”

“Bye Jamie,” she called sweetly as he rode off, he turned to look to see that she was blushing again as she waved him off.

Girls were weird, Jamie thought as he heard Laoghaire’s mother call out her name again, with more impatience.

—-

Once again Jamie stopped by Walter Stuart’s house. His paper route now completed. His satchel empty. It was a habit now; to park across the street, under the shade of a huge tree and watch the house for a minute or two. Jamie dismounted from his bike and took the time to stretch out his arms and legs. It wasn’t backbreaking work but it’s wasn’t exactly a walk in the park either. His body had become accustomed to the ride, and even with the new routes he’d picked up it wasn’t difficult so much as slightly tiring. Some days more than others.

As he bent to try and (unsuccessfully) touch his toes he heard the front door open of Walter Stuart’s house and a young feminine voice call out to someone inside.

“I’ll be back soon, Lamb, I just need to get out of the house for a while.”

Jamie jolted upright so quickly in his surprise that someone was coming out of the house that he lost his balance and fell backward onto his bike with an almighty crash.

The air was forced from Jamie’s lungs as he fell and his shin was throbbing something fierce as he tried to disentangle himself from his bike and bag.

“Are you alright?” A voice from somewhere beside him asked, it was soft, gentle and oh so very, very English.

“I’m...” Jamie turned to look at whoever had asked the question and felt his words catch in his throat.

She was gorgeous, stunning, like the sun had come out from behind the clouds on a rainy day and everything was brighter than before.

“You’ve cut your leg. Hold on a moment.” The girl turned away from him and pulled something out of a bag Jamie didn’t realise she was holding.

Jamie couldn’t look away from her. He still was lying awkwardly on the body of his bike, the pedal digging painfully into his lower back, his satchel somehow twisted around his feet but he couldn’t move. He’d never really thought of any girl as beautiful before.

Sure they were hot and there were a few that did funny things to his insides and one particular part of his anatomy. (A lesson his father had given him at the age of twelve that they had both blushed furiously through and then promptly never spoken of again.)

But this girl was something else. Jamie didn’t even know her name but he was convinced he was in love with her.

“This is it lad. You’ll marry this lass one day.” It was a stupid thought but it was the only clear thing that was running through his head at that moment.

That was of course until she applied pressure to his shin and he yelped in pain.

“Sorry,” she said sounding not even remotely sorry at all. “It’s bleeding quite a lot. Though, shins have a tendency to do that. Much like head wounds. Always bleed much worse than the actual injury. Stay still. I need to check how bad it is.”

She spoke rapidly and Jamie found it was all he could to listen to her talk, study the way that her mouth sounded out the words and the way her curly hair fluttered in the breeze.

“Not nearly as bad as I thought. No stitches needed but you did give yourself a bloody good scrape. Any other injuries, or is it just the leg?”

She looked up at him then and Jamie felt like he’d received another punch to his gut as he looked into her eyes. The colour of whiskey; intelligence of a hawk, and the cunningness of a panther, her eyes were the windows to her mind and he could see that hers were moving quickly over his face.

“Just the leg I think, though the longer I lie on my bike like this, the more I think my ars- my back may need tending to,” Jamie replied, thrilled that he had managed to string together a full sentence and annoyed at himself that he’d nearly asked her to inspect his arse.

“Right yes, of course. I’m Claire by the way,” she said nimbly stepping backwards from him, giving him room to extract himself from his bike and bag.

“Jamie,” he answered as he righted himself. His shin was still bleeding fairly profusely and he could feel the trickle of liquid make its way down into his socks.

“You’d better come inside. Get a plaster on that.” Claire didn’t wait for his response and turned on her heel and headed back towards Walter Stuart’s house.

—

“I’m back,” Claire called out to the seemingly empty house as Jamie followed her through nervously.

Walter Stuart’s house. He’d never been in Walter Stuart’s house. He looked into the living room and felt a shudder as it ran through him, wondering if that was where the old man had died.

“That was quick, Bumblebee.” An older man appeared from the kitchen, a pink flowery apron tied around his waist. “And you’ve brought back someone.”

“Lamb this is Jamie. Jamie this is Lamb,” Claire introduced quickly. “Are there plasters in the bathroom?” Without waiting for an answer Claire bounded off leaving Jamie standing somewhat awkwardly in front of the man Claire had just introduced.

“Jamie is it?” Lamb clarified as Jamie nodded shyly. “Well come in and have a seat. Nasty gash you’ve given yourself there.” Lamb looked down at his leg briefly and without waiting for Jamie to respond, he turned and went back to the kitchen assuming Jamie would follow- which he did.

—

“So Jamie. You’re a local then?” Lamb asked as he went back to whatever he was stirring, which seemed to be a rather large vessel of concrete.

“Ay- Yes sir I am,” Jamie replied politely, now holding the handkerchief that Claire had given him against his leg, trying to staunch the bleeding from his shin as he sat in a chair near a very small dining table.

“No need to call me sir, son. Professor Beauchamp will be just fine.”

“Oh,” Jamie mumbled awkwardly, “so-sorry I didn’t know.”

“I’m joking lad, Lamb is fine. So Jamie, how did you sustain such a ghastly injury?” Lamb said all this very quickly with an odd chuckle that make Jamie question how much of what he had said was actually a joke and what was so funny about it.

“Oh,” Jamie shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. He couldn’t very well say that it was the shock of someone actually exiting Walter Stuart’s house that made him fall over in surprise. More-so he then couldn’t say that it was Lamb’s very attractive daughter that had made him lose all sense of rational thought as she sat by him and helped him with his leg.

“I run the paper route in the town and I’d just stopped to take a break and... fell over,” he finished somewhat lamely as Lamb looked over and studied him carefully.

“A paper route? Fascinating.” Lamb looked back to whatever he was stirring and Jamie swallowed heavily. Fascinating wasn’t exactly something that Jamie would use to describe his paper route... or anything in the village for that matter.

“I...err, suppose so,” Jamie replied awkwardly. If any of the old women in town heard that Jamie had met the mysterious residents of Walter Stuart’s house, and furthermore been inside and heaven-forbid have a conversation with them, well Jamie would be the talk of the town.

Lamb seemed to lose himself in whatever he was creating in his kitchen and Jamie couldn’t think of anything further to say to engage the man in conversation, so he sat quietly waiting for Claire, the girl that he had just met (and promptly fallen in love with) to return.

“Well I think that this is just about ready,” Lamb announced in triumph, turning away from the concrete looking substance and donning two industrial strength gloves from the bench beside him. “Be a lad and open that door for me?” Lamb indicated the door leading to the back garden and Jamie jumped up (wincing at the pressure on his shin as he moved) and opened the door as Lamb carried the mysterious concoction outside.

Jamie stood watching as Lamb poured, what he was now sure was concrete, into a perfectly squared off area of the garden with a heaving grunt.

“Found them!” Claire’s voice from behind Jamie made him swing around in surprise. She had tied her hair back now, though there were some loose curls already springing forth around her face.

“Honestly, he leaves things in the oddest places sometimes. You’d think that they would be a bathroom cupboard. But no. They were in his sock drawer. Because where else would you look for a plaster but your sock drawer?” Claire spoke quickly and Jamie found himself nodding dumbly at her.

Christ. She was gorgeous. Jamie felt his cock twitch as she turned away from him and beckoned him to sit down in the chair he had just vacated to help Lamb with the door.

Jamie followed obediently and sat where she indicated.

“I also brought some disinfectant, not bleach, medical stuff. Just to clean it out. It might sting,” Claire explained as she swiped the gash with some brown antiseptic liquid. It stung but Jamie made sure to school his features so that he didn’t flinch.

Claire gave a knowing smile as she cleaned the gash, as if she had seen his thigh clench with the sting but she didn’t say anything.

“Hmm,” She hummed as she applied pressure to his still bleeding shin.

“What’s wrong?” Jamie asked, purposefully avoiding looking where her nimble fingers were touching his calf.

“Well I have a plaster here, which is fine, it’s just that... well, your leg is quite hairy isn’t it?”

Jamie glanced down to see the blonde hairs on his legs, some coated and pasted down with his blood.

“Aye, I suppose,” he tried to shrug nonchalantly.

“It’s just that the adhesive will hurt quite a bit when you have to take the plaster off again. A waxing of sorts,” Claire explained, before biting her bottom lip as she thought.

“Ye want to shave my leg?” Jamie asked in surprise. “Chris- we’ve just met and ye want to shave ma leg?”

“I was just thinking about when you have to pull the plaster off. It will hurt a hell of a lot more,” Claire said patiently.

“Ye are not shavin’ my leg, Sassenach,” Jamie replied stubbornly.

“Sassenach?” Claire quirked an eyebrow at him, “never been called that before.”

“There’s a first for everything,” Jamie grimaced as Claire lifted the cotton ball with the stinging antiseptic from his leg. “And tha’ does’na include shaving ma leg. Just put the plaster on and be done with it. I’ll deal with ripping it off later”

“Stubborn, aren’t you?” Claire snorted with laughter as she applied the large bandage to his shin. Jamie could feel the adhesive already pulling at the hair but he nodded anyway, as if wasn’t a bother.

“Aye- Yes. My sister says my head is harder than rocks; either stubborn or being hit over the head, I’m the same.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Claire smiled as she cleaned up the rubbish.

“Thank ye for yer help. I appreciate it.”

“It’s not a bother. I’ve seen you riding around the streets a few times. You deliver the papers?” Claire asked as she washed her hands and moved to the open door where they could hear Lamb humming to himself.

“I’m going out again,” she called out the door, and without waiting for a response led Jamie back out of the house.

“So the paper. You deliver it?” She asked again as they walked back to Jamie abandoned bike.

“Aye, I mean yes. Just a small route, mind, few of the elderly folk that dinna like to go out too much.”

“Do you have anyone on our street?” Claire asked with her hands on her hips as Jamie picked up his bike and slung his bag across his body.

“Not here, no, but Mrs Duncan round the corner, the Mackenzie’s back a street, the Wakefield’s and Mohr’s,” Jamie pointed back the way he’d come. “Oh and the Randall’s, but they’re a few streets away from here I suppose.”

“But none on this street?” She clarified as Jamie started to wheel his bike in the direction of his own house, Claire keeping pace with him.

“No, not on this street.”

“Hmmph.” Claire made an unimpressed sound and crossed her arms across her chest.

“What?” Jamie asked in confusion.

“So why do you come onto our street, stop under that tree and stare at my house?” Claire asked forcefully.

Jamie felt himself blush as he shook his head. “I just stop to take a break after peddling round all morning. The tree’s got good shade and I canna help it if yer house is across from it.”

Claire didn’t say anything further and Jamie found himself babbling to her to fill the silence.

“It gets hot most mornings. It’s a good place to stop a’fore I have to ride back home and start my chores. I did’na even realise that someone lived in the house till ye came out of it.”

“Is that so?” Claire asked, clearly disbelieving him.

“Aye, why? What did ye think? That I was stalking ye?” Jamie’s voice sounded rough and he knew it was because it was a half truth. He wasn’t stalking perhaps. He was just curious about the residents of Walter Stuart’s house.

“Not exactly no. But you do stop there an awful lot and stare at the house,” Claire said somewhat sheepishly.

“Maybe I should be worried about you stalking me, watching me come and go like that,” Jamie said sarcastically, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Well there’s only so much you can do from within the house without going insane, so you start looking out,” Claire answered quietly, almost in embarrassment.

“Why did’na ye go out before?”

“Reasons.” Claire answered shortly, promptly shutting down Jamie’s line of questions.

“Fair enough,” he conceded. “So where were ye headed to before ye came to patch me up?”

“Nowhere really. Just wanted to get out of the house. Explore the area that I’m supposed to be living in,” Claire said with a shrug.

“Do ye want a tour?” Jamie asked a little too enthusiastically. Anything to spend more time with Claire- he would do it. They would probably attend the same school when the break was over, but the more he could get to know her now, the better.

“Is there even enough to look at for a tour?” Claire asked skeptically.

“When ye ken where to go,” Jamie answered smugly and turned left down the next street without waiting to see if she followed- which she did.

[servetolive]

i know (reno/cloud strife covid isolation bs)

CW: swearing, sex, pandemic anxiety Rating: M Notes: This is just the first two bits. Once I finish three, it’ll go up on AO3.

-- It was like The Planet was still pissed at them and wanted them gone for good.

The Shinra scientists that could have told the world where the virus had come from and how to fight it were still very dead, and their replacements were still very young and had yet to complete their training in Mideel, although they quickly found themselves in the very powerful and stressful position of being tasked with doing so anyway.

Kind of like Reno. He’d been trained for sorties, not relief, but he had the unenviable position of being one of a handful of skilled pilots left to run essential drops to and from Midgar and Junon. He was mobilized as soon as the infected count breached two-thousand–which wasn’t a lot, but for the stacked living situation of Midgar’s inhabitants, one didn’t need to be Reeve or a virologist to understand how serious things would get in the next several days and weeks.

Almost immediately, the vulnerable members of their group were shuttered away. Rufus disappeared into his unmarked chateau west of Kalm, Tifa closed the bar and forbade her charges from leaving or anyone else from visiting–friends included–and Cloud had predictably begun packing for his isolation in the Plains before anyone had even advised him to do so.

As field hospitals were being thrown up outside of Edge, Reno tossed Cloud’s duffel bags into his helicopter, its blades still whirring. Cloud wore a sleeved jacket, zipped to the neck, long pants, gloves, and a face mask, and it briefly occurred to Reno that this was the most clothes he’d ever seen his friend wear since they’d been enemies.

“That everything?” Reno asked, his voice muffled by his own mask, which was much heavier than the thin paper one that Cloud wore, and looked odd containing his face when his red hair stuck out in all directions. It had been years since he’d donned a flight suit, and now he was masked and gloved, his sleeves bonded tightly to his wrists with duct tape. He tried not to think of the heat and the sweat rolling down his back as he wiped his hairline with the inside of his elbow–then cursed himself for touching his face.

I’m clean, he had to reassure himself.

Cloud’s lightest sword–he’d need nothing heavier–was the last thing to load. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

With no need for pre-checks, Reno advised Cloud to strap himself in so they could take off.

“Take it easy, Reno,” Cloud asked. “Please.”

All Reno did was nod. Without being able to see his friend’s facial expressions, the experience of talking to him before he was about to drop him off in the middle of nowhere before who-knows-how-long was a strange one that he didn’t want much to do with.

–

The thirty minute ride to Cloud’s small cabin west of the Old Man’s chocobo farm was almost completely silent, save for the chatter on the radio. Cloud did his best to focus on one point on the horizon to keep from getting sick, but this was the longest time Reno had shut up since they began seeing each other. Like everything else happening around them, it was unsettling.

It hadn’t been long, but the last few months had been an intense whirlwind of absolutely every goddamned thing; Cloud had no idea humans were capable of so much range of emotion. Reno was the first person he’d ever met that he could talk to about nothing for hours, or listen to for hours; the first person he could sit in quiet with, just vibing with each other and soaking up the other’s energy or lack thereof. They were different and had so much in common; they talked about their time in Shinra, compared grunt stories, shared their guilt about the past. Cloud watched videos on his phone while Reno sat next to him, drawing out designs for tattoos or sketching still objects. 

They shared space the way they shared cigarettes. Reno was the only person that could invade Cloud’s space the way that he did, and they would talk to each other with faces only inches apart, Reno’s loud voice hushed and low as if he only wanted Cloud to hear what he said. Cloud normally avoided eye contact, but he repaid Reno’s exclusive intimacy with his full attention, blue eyes to blue eyes, and it always appeared to observers that they drank each other up while only talking about the weather or their week’s plans.

They danced like they fucked, and the whole world that saw them had no issue imagining the latter. No enemies to fight left them with free time to explore themselves without the Company bleeding into their identities. Reno had no trouble with that; he’d been many things before a Turk and a soldier, but the military was all Cloud knew, and transformation had been a unique one. Reno had done street dancing since he was a kid, Cloud picked up pole dancing to recover atrophied muscle from his long illness, and they met each other in the middle. 

Cloud’s gymnastic abilities from his time in the army had given him a knack for this new craft that had gotten him to the position of an instructor within six months. It had taken more than a decade for Reno to be that good, but he didn’t care. He loved seeing Cloud move his body in unexpected ways; he loved teaching Cloud choreography in his own craft, and he loved how willing a student he was.

Dancing was their second bed. It was their primary form of communication besides sex, and now all of it was gone. Gone, for the foreseeable future. No classes, no showcases, no shared knowledge, no shared space, no shared cigarettes, no shared pole, no shared bed. Just unreadable gazes over partially obscured faces.

Cloud tried not to think about that. He at least, was fine being alone for long stretches of time, and had experience with compartmentalizing grief, but he worried for his friend, who was widely known to be rather shit at containing himself or doing without.

For now, Reno seemed to be running on enough adrenaline for him to focus on things other than the fact that he wouldn’t be making out with Cloud in public or sharing a blunt in private with him; that all the new ways they’d found pleasure and comfort within the confines of their relationship had been ripped away overnight. 

When things slowed down a bit, Reno would be the first to lose it. Cloud knew it, but he sat there and said nothing until the helicopter landed near the grassy knoll about a half-click away from the half-furnished cabin Cloud had bought a season ago.

Reno did nothing to change that. He left his mask in his seat, left the engine running, kicking up grass and dirt and pollen all around them, dismounted and immediately set to grabbing as many of Cloud’s things as he could carry. Cloud jumped out himself and did the same, squinting his eyes against the foreign particles that flew into them.

They worked in tandem like they were on some jungle mission, like they’d known each other in their infantry days. They didn’t waste a single movement, passing each other items to set on the ground, rotating to grab more. Their last dance for a good while.

It was getting dark. Both of them needed to hurry for different reasons. Reno was expected in Junon to pick up personnel and supplies, and he preferred not to fly at night. Cloud had no electricity and needed to rectify that before his phone died and his perishable food went bad.

“Drop it here.” It was about twenty paces from the front door, but the items were heavy and Cloud didn’t want to keep Reno. 

“You sure?” Before Reno got an answer, he set the box of cooking supplies down and dropped the duffel bag he’d carried.

Cloud ripped off his paper mask, now filled with bits of hay and other allergens. 

“Yeah. Go,” he encouraged. 

Cloud’s hair whipped around, strands of it smacking harshly into his eyes, causing him to squint. Reno’s look was indecipherable, a sign that he was miles away from Cloud and their shared life already. Cloud was glad for that. Had millions of people not been counting on Reno then, and had he been capable of realizing in that moment that this was the last time he would actually see Cloud’s face for what promised to be a very long while, he would have violated both Cloud’s and Mideel’s social distance boundary and drowned him with his tongue.

Quietly, he admired that about Reno; his unwavering professionalism and his focus when something was important. It was a quality his own branch of friends never saw over his swagger and brashness.

He’d wanted to end on a lighter note, and tell him how good he looked in a flight suit, but it seemed grossly inappropriate to do at that moment, with Reno’s hardened mindset in full consideration. All he could manage was “Take care of yourself. Wash your hands.”

“You too, Cloud.” Reno turned back toward his bird, calling out over his shoulder, his voice getting louder as he approached the chopper’s blades. “Call if you need somethin’, and I’ll get it to you.”

“I will.” He would try not to, really, but he said it for Reno’s sake. “Text me when you’re home!”

“Keep your fuckin’ phone on!” The last thing Reno yelled from the seat of his chopper before taking off was “And call Tifa!”

Cloud shielded his eyes and watched the aircraft for a few moments more before tearing away and moving into work mode himself.

II.

The trip to Junon was only supposed to last about as long as it took to get there, but the ritual of inventory and decontamination had placed Reno’s departure time at 2300. The medics that were meant to go with him refused, preferring instead to return home and leave at Junon until first light.

Junon was the last place Reno wanted to be for any stretch of time. The idea of having to either sleep over at his mother’s place or hear her incessant bitching once she inevitably found out he’d stayed in the barracks instead made him nauseous. 

No amount of swearing or cajoling could convince them to make the forty-five minute trip back to Midgar. The soldiers had all been conveniently converted into contractors, and in the time since Meteorfall, they’d learned how to take full advantage of that. A phone call from Cid made the night worse.

“Cid,” Reno said, turning from the medics and making his way off the heliport. “You motherfucker, please give me some good fuckin’ news.”

“You’re supposed to give me the good news, dumbass!” Cid hollered through the phone. Reno found a chance to smile. He figured that one day, when he was old and crusty, he’d be just like Cid, who didn’t even have that many years on him. “Ain’t you taking doctors over there?" 

"Not doctors, medics. They’re all in Midgar already. There ain’t no more.” Reno lit a cigarette, knowing that Cid was likely doing the same. “I could use some help here, y'know.”

“I know that, idjit! What do you think I’m doing?" 

"What’s going on with the Highwind?" 

"Highwind is in Mideel already. Shera’s getting geared up n’ ready to go, I just need a crew.”

Reno paused. “What happened to the one you got?" 

"One of ‘em got sick.”

Reno’s heart sank. “One?" 

"If one’s sick, they’re all sick.” Cid ended the sentence with a brief string of dry coughs. Normally this would have been attributed to his smoker’s lung and wouldn’t be a problem but something about it didn’t sound right. Or Reno could be overreacting. 

“You alright there, Old Man?" 

"Go fuck yourself,” Cid squeezed out between coughs. 

Reno didn’t feel good about it. “I dunno. Might wanna lay off the smoking for a bit.”

“I’m gettin’ off this phone, before I reach through it and choke your ass out.”

Reno stood on the helipad for a moment to collect himself. 

Experience and a sour gut feeling told him that he’d be on his own for a minute. 

He turned back to the helipad and dialed the number of one of the medics who was supposed to be on the flight to Midgar. 

“Hello?" 

"Hey, it’s your pilot.” Reno spoke clearly and took the edge out of his accent, to give himself the best opportunity at being understood the first time he explained. “Here’s what I want you to do. You’re gonna find me two people to replace you on this flight. You’re gonna tell them that people are needing their help in Midgar, and you’re gonna tell them to meet me at the helipad with their gear in a half hour. Tell them the dude with red hair is gonna be waiting on them. Got it?”

“Yeah,” a yawn, “Got it.”

“Then repeat it back to me.”

A pause. “Everyone’s asleep.”

“Wake them up.” Reno wasn’t sure how long he could keep it up. 

“… And what if I don’t?" 

Reno paused himself, and his tongue slackened. "You will, because I have the fuckin’ crew manifest, and I know your fuckin’ names, and I know where you’re billeted, so you’ll either get your lazy asses on this flight like you’re s'pposed to, find suitable replacements, or I’m coming down to the Medical Det F Company, A Suite, Room… ” Reno paused to look at his phone, “…309, and I'mma throw you and your fuck buddy there out that three story window, and nobody’s gonna be there to scrape you off the fuckin’ concrete, cuz they’ll all be in Midgar doin’ their jobs while you two hid in your rooms like pussies." 

"Heard.” Click. 

It took everything for Reno not to throw his phone. Since the Administrative Research Division had ceased to function as an entity, he hadn’t been in the habit of reminding people that he was once a Turk, but if he were that kind of asshole, none of that would have been necessary. 

They made good on their agreement. In thirty five minutes, two energetic female medics ran up to Reno with their packs, obviously eager to escape Junon’s strict containment rules. 

“Midgar?” One of them said. 

“I’ll be damned!” Reno tossed his cigarette and kicked himself off the side of his vehicle. “Y'all ready to work?" 

"Please,” the younger one said. “Get us out of here.”

“You got it.”

[leroiloup]

Das Biest

⚜ The entirely unnecessarily long & violent story of how Klaus gave up on trying to be human.    ➥ Takes place : Fall of 1359 in present day Germany    ✥ Trigger Warnings : violence /gore

❝ –– the true problem remains my brother Niklaus ; he continues to hide his loneliness with                   cruelty. ❞                                     Elijah’s Journal ║ August 1359

                                                                       -✦-

                              Understanding   /  Forgiveness   /   Love   /   Redemption

         ❝ Such notions were thrown my way towards the latter years of my life, perhaps encouraged by the love that melted my frozen heart when my daughter was born. I wonder, though, does sixteen years account for well over a thousand ? Does the path I took mean anything so long as my destination was justified ? If you’re to ask me, I’d say no. Yes, when I died, I did so selflessly as a father ,  a brother ,  a friend ,  and a lover. But first and foremost I lived my life as only one thing :    a      m o n s t e r .

❝ I’m no mere villain in the stories you hear. I’m not the lackey who lives to serve under tyrannical rule. I’m not the bad guy thrown into the path of the hero set to challenge his ways and ultimately make him rise above and vanquish evil, thus becoming the pure symbol of good–– et cetera et cetera. No, I’m none of these things.

                                                                                         I’m much worse.

❝ I’m the nightmare that demons cower from. I’m the shadow from which evil flees. True, I softened in the final years of my life, finding a selfless focus of my power, but make no mistake. It is my name that makes the night itself tremble in fear.

❝ How did it come to this, you wonder ? How did the simple son of a wayward Viking become the ultimate terror to plague this world for over over a millennia ? There’s a plethora of examples from which I could cite, but the one that could truly drive my point home takes place in the fall 1359. Humanity was never a thing I could easily turn on and off as vampires today can, but in that time, I was truly anything but   h u  m   a    n .  ❞

                               ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The ropes bit into the flesh of his wrists, bruising them deeply. Rope, however, was nothing but a nuisance for a vampire. Klaus could have easily snapped them and freed himself in an instant - if it weren’t for the witch chanting incessantly. The words were like daggers through his very skull. The original vampire was on his knees in a wooden church, a small group of people surrounding him. They looked frightened but determined as they watched the witch subdue him. Dark red and black eyes framed by rippling veins stared back, his fangs bared as he yelled, promising unending torment the moment he was free.

It wasn’t often that a vampire was caught, and it was nearly impossible to catch an original. The people of the small town of Bedburg, Germany in the autumn of 1359 didn’t even know what vampires were. They were hunting a werewolf and ended up with Klaus in their snare. How could such a feat be possible ? How was the infamous and powerful Klaus MIkaelson overcome by the simple minded townsfolk ? A beautiful pair of brown eyes, of course.

His name was Johann and he had the unfortunate luck of coming across a vampire feeing in the woods under the cover of night. Elijah, Rebekah, Kol and Klaus had taken up residence in Cologne Germany, just fifty kilometers away from Bedburg. After a particularly nasty blow out over the morals of being a vampire, Klaus headed out into the night to clear his head. Not wanting to attract attention back home, he found the small village and hunted on the outskirts. It was just after a drank a pair of lovers out for a roll in the hay dry that Klaus heard the snap of a twig, announcing the presence of another.

Turning to the source of the sound, Klaus seemingly disappeared and reappeared right in front of the young man. He was tall and fit, clearly a labor worker like a farmer. Shoulder length brown hair was tied back at the base of his neck and his youthful face was void of a beard. He couldn’t be much older than Klaus was when he was turned. Wide brown eyes looked up at the vampire, fear mingled with something else - something that took Klaus by surprise : wonder.

❝ Aren’t thou afraid ? ❞ he asked in German, having learned the language a century earlier.

A tense moment passed and the young mortal finally broke the silence.  ❝ They- They told me t’was a beast who hunted in these woods. ❞  That immediately took Klaus off guard. As far as he knew, this was the first time a Mikaelson had set foot near Bedburg. The village was too small to even be on a map. It was a complete fluke that his rage fueled path took him there.  ❝ Something like a hound straight from the bowels of hell. Some thing like- ❞

❝ A wolf ? ❞ Klaus asked.

The mortal’s eyes widened a bit as he nodded. He looked to the two dead bodies, then back to the killer before him, blood still on his chin.  ❝ I didn’t know you’d be a man. Are you both ? ❞

Finding himself far more intrigued with the inquisitive mortal, Klaus felt his earlier anger ebb away.  ❝ I am not what you’re hunting. ❞  The fact that there was a werewolf in these parts was fascinating and Klaus filed it away for later.

❝ But you killed them, ❞ the mortal stated.

❝ Yes. ❞

❝ And you’ll kill me now ? ❞

Klaus took a couple of steps froward, wiping the blood from his chin with his thumb, bringing himself within reaching distance of the young man.  ❝ Thou art unafraid at the prospect ? ❞  Usually this would be the point of running and screaming, but the mortal seemed merely curious.

❝ Not of dying, ❞ he admitted.  ❝ I loathe this town. And the people in it. ❞  His eyes were on the dead couple when he spoke.

There was a kindred spirit in the mortal that Klaus could feel. He’d never loved anyone since Aurora had shattered his heart, and while the concept of love wasn’t at the forefront of his mind, he found himself yearning for kinship ; someone who could understand him. Taking a risk, he slowly reached out and brushed back a lock of stray brown hair from the mortal’s face.  ❝ Small minded people are never able to see the greatness within those like us. ❞

❝ Us ? ❞ he asked, not shying away in the least. On the contrary, he leaning into the touch, fascinated by the creature of fantasy.

Klaus nodded, dark blue eyes holding his gaze with a growing intensity as he leaned closer. When next he spoke, it was in a whisper as though worried that any volume would shatter the moment he’d unwittingly found himself in.  ❝ I can show you a better way to live. ❞  Drawn together by an unseen force, their lips met, and Klaus felt the first wave of peace overtake his soul in centuries.

Only when their lips parted did the mortal smile and say, ❝ I am Johann. ❞  Klaus grinned in return before kissing him again, letting his emotions take hold and guide his actions.

                                        ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The young love lasted three nights. Each night, Klaus would slip away from his siblings to meet Johann in the woods outside of Bedburg. At a time when his loneliness mingled with insatiable hunger had started to melt away the traits that made him human, it was Johann’s warm touch that coaxed a bit of his old self to the surface. It was pure bliss, reminding the vampire that there was more to life than rage, torment, and blood. There was beauty all around if only one were to open their eyes and look.

On the third night, Klaus didn’t even greet his new friend. He pounced from the darkness, shoving Johann up against a tree and kissed him with the passion he’d denied himself for so long. When the kiss ended, Klaus grinned, a playful expression in place. It was only then that he saw the fearful and saddened look in the brown eyes he’d come to crave.  ❝ What’s the matter ? ❞

❝ I am so sorry. I did not know- ❞

Confusion clouded blue eyes as Johann rambled, but before Klaus could make any sense of it, there was a searing pain that shot through his skull. Instantly the vampire was brought to his knees, hands to his head as he yelled. A witch had come into view from around a tree. Her hands were outstretched and she chanted, holding strong to the spell that was able to subdue the original. Betrayal and hurt boiled deep within his eyes as Klaus looked to Johann. A group of mortals had no descended and shackled Klaus, tying him up to bring back to town. As far as the townsfolk were concerned, their period of strife had ended : the werewolf of Bedburg had been caught. Oh, how wrong they were !

                                        ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The sun had begun to rise when Klaus was tied down on his knees, hands behind his back in the wooden church at the end of the village. A ring of salt was around him as the witch continued her ritual to kill him. He wondered if he were a regular vampire whether or not it would have worked. The small handful of people who surrounded him weren’t recognizable, though they appeared to be people of powerful positions within the little community. One man in particular stood in front of the group, looking like the mayor.

Head bowed under long tresses of tangled blonde hair, seemingly given up, Klaus calculated the many ways he would introduce pure anguish into their lives. The inexorable torment that pounded through his black and broken heart fueled the machinations through Klaus’s mind. For a brief glimmer in his life, Klaus had found happiness ; the kind of happiness that he didn’t think would be possible after Aurora. It was nothing more than an illusion, he realized - not unlike his humanity. To hell with Elijah’s morals and speeches about being better than the beast. Klaus had learned where compassion would get him, and it was a road he never wanted to travel again. He wasn’t a human any longer, and he decided that eternity would be better spent accepting that truth. He was better than them - he could rise above them. As far as he was concerned, he wasn’t human, but rather their god. Unfortunately for the town of Bedburg, he’s not a merciful god in the slightest. They needed to be punished and the monster within him reared its head, begging for blood.

Sunlight shone through the church windows, bathing Klaus in its light. One of the wives stepped back, confused. Apparently she thought demons couldn’t survive in the sunlight. It gave Klaus an idea - one that he was sure he’d regret later - but his mind was running solely on the need for revenge. Logic be damned.

Head raised slowly and inhuman vampire eyes met the group. Fighting against the searing torment of the spell, Klaus’s face set with a new determination. Apparently the blood thirsty look they were met with was enough to cause concern and the room froze. Even the witch paused, though her hands were still up. He couldn’t leave the ring of salt, so she felt safe.

That feeling was misplaced.

Hands still behind him, Klaus’s fingers found his daylight ring and pulled it off. Instantly his body was engulfed in flames, wide grin and dangerous eyes seen through the fire. The wood of the church caught instantly, going up like a tinder box.  It was an unseasonably dry year which worked in his favor. The mayor pushed his wife towards the door as another man was caught, screaming as fire lit him up. The ring of salt was gone and the people panicked as they ran for the door. Klaus moved at preternatural speed to the witch who stood in a shaded area. He sunk his teeth into her neck and she screamed as her healing blood filled his mouth and flames engulfed both of their bodies. He didn’t stop until her head was nearly severed from its neck, then Klaus dropped the body to the floor. He put his ring back on and moved with the same speed to the door and those trying to escape. The wind created by his movement was able to kill the flames still on his body. What clothing was left was singed to his melted flesh, hair gone and red eyes wild. The pain was unlike anything he’d ever felt, and yet the original was able to harness it and let it fuel him.

There were more screams as people were trapped in the flames. Those who would survive were met with sharp fangs.

Outside, the villagers were taking to the street to behold their church up in flames. The screams within died and after a few tense moments, the grotesque figure of Klaus emerged from the smoky doorway. It was immediately clear to anyone that he wasn’t human, for anyone with burns that bad wouldn’t still be walking. Blood fell from his lips as it began to heal him. His eyes scanned the ground as people started to run back to their home. He wasn’t bothered with them, though, as his eyes found Johann in the crowd.

The mortal had the sense to finally look afraid as Klaus approached. A scarred and singed hand reached up, affectionately caressing the side of Johann’s face.  ❝ I did not want to, ❞ the mortal pleaded, tears in his eyes.  ❝ You have to believe me. I never wanted this. They- ❞

Words ceased and brown eyes went side as his expression froze. When Klaus pulled back his other hand, it was dripping with blood, holding the beating heart of the man he thought to be his lover. There was nothing but a steely resolve forged by hurt and betrayal in Klaus’s eyes as he brought the heart to his lips and took a drink. Johann’s body fell limp to the ground and there was a piercing scream from one of the villagers who’d witnessed it. Klaus smirked and dropped the heart before turning his blind hatred on the people of the town.

The slaughter didn’t last long as Klaus tore through as many people as he could find. Blood painted the sides of buildings, limbs fell detached in his wake, and smoke began to could and blot out the sun. No one was safe from his ire and blood soaked fangs. The fire continued to spread, a visible metaphor to the vampire’s ever growing and all consuming rage. It wasn’t long before the entire village was on fire and not a soul was left alive.

Satisfaction wasn’t the emotion that Klaus carried in his heart as he walked away from the smoldering remains of the carnage. The tragedy of loss in his heart was gone, washed away with any semblance of happiness or peace. Instead, the only thing Klaus felt was numb. All attempts at being human were a thing of the past. The original would move forward in life only as the thing he was forged to be :  a beast.

Finding a wandering horse, Klaus approached it and - not bothering with a saddle - he mounted and guided the animal back towards Cologne. The village of Bedburg would be resettled in coming years, though to this day, there are still stories of the werewolf that once plagued the town. What there will not be stories of, is the monster far more terrifying - the one who gave in to the animalistic side and embraced his true nature in their very church.

[solcordc]

{ FINAL FAREWELL } 

“Death leaves a heartache no one can heal. Love leaves a memory no one can steal”  In loving memory of @katergaris​ Reno.  May the love of @siicariivs​ and @militvs​ be remembered fondly.

        Life is gentle, blessed even, for the ex SOLDIER. The woman who dreamed of revenge is gone, the man who became a puppet is gone, the tortured soul has become gentle--he is not who he was. Cloud Strife never thought he’d ever feel happiness again, but as he ran the sponge over a plate, he realized that he was living out that domestic fantasy everyone dreamed of. He couldn’t deny that on occasion he might wonder when he’d wake back up into a hell hole--but right now he only felt full; warm inside. His lips tugged into a small smile, something that came easy to him now. They didn’t leave extravagantly, not that either of them would have wanted that, but they lived comfortably. The apartment had a living room, kitchen, and one bedroom. It worked well for a family of four--well five now. 

           Glancing out over the small counter that separated the tiny kitchen from the modest living room he noted that a bag of spray paints kept by the door was missing. Pausing in doing the dishes, he wiped his hands on a cloth, and went to check. Neku’s shoes were gone as well--along with Sasha’s leash and he smiled in relief. Reno’s australian shepherd had taken well to the deaf kid he’d taken in off the streets and was very good at alerting him to danger, or calming him down if he got overwhelmed. The blonde’s heart felt impossibly large in that moment and he turned the affection on a small bundle of grey fur rubbing between his legs. The young man had always wanted a family, ever since his first had been stolen from him. Becoming Reno’s boyfriend--and then later his husband--it had been a long journey but until he felt more stable they’d known having a kid was out of the question. 

            Still, Cloud loved kids and he’d always felt a slight twinge every time he helped one back to their family. So for a very long time it had just been the blonde, his husband, Sasha, and the kitten Fenrir. Then he’d found the poor red-head laying in the street and his heart had gone out to him. It helped that where Neku was deaf, he was going deaf, and for him that had settled the whole affair. He knew ASL and in his opinion that made him the best qualified to take care of the young boy. He wrote Reno about him often and how beautiful his street art was. I can’t wait for you to meet him; I know you’re going to love him. He’d said once in a text--one his lover had actually been able to reply to. At that thought he wandered away from the door and over to where his phone was. When he had work he usually wore his hearing aids so it wasn’t difficult to hear the ringing of his cell, but on days off he preferred not to wear them so it was possible he’d missed something. 

              There wasn’t, well there was one text, but it was Neku just letting him know he was going out for a bit of fresh air. Nothing wrong with that so he just set it back down and went back to washing the dishes. A soft sigh escaped him, when was Reno coming home? The turk had been out on a mission for almost a month now and even if Cloud was ok, he still missed him. Things like this weren’t uncommon but the blonde couldn’t help feeling just a little bit touch starved--even for those energetic bear hugs he always got from the turk. Neku helped ease the loneliness; helped dull how loud his depression could get, but no one could replace his husband. Thoughts of dark hair and an easy smile flitted across his mind but he shoved that aside. Some loves were best staying forgotten. Besides, it was an old flame--one that he’d long since given up on. He was far happier with Reno in his current life than he ever had been before their relationship had gotten off to its rocky start. 

              A small laugh escaped him as he began rinsing and drying the dishes. Reno had asked him out--telling him that he needed to ‘loosen up’ now that he was ‘done saving the world’. At first he’d resisted, certain that after everything he didn’t deserver it--but in the end the turk was relentless. He just wouldn’t take no and kept asking until at last the ex SOLDIER agreed to gone on ‘just one’ date with the red-head. Much to his surprise when he was treated to one of the best nights of his life. Even if he came across as wild and a party-type guy, Reno had known that Cloud was still too wounded inside to handle letting go that much. The date had been at the turks apartment where he cooked a home-made meal and treated Cloud to some tifa-level drinks. 

             He’d walked Cloud home, hand warm around his waist--and left with a gentle shoulder nudge. He took his time courting Cloud--let the blonde come to him at his pace. Slipping the ring back on his finger, now done with the dishes, he smiled fondly at the simple band. That patience and care had stayed long into their relationship and it was pretty clear that despite his rowdy nature, Reno was an attentive lover in all things. Granted he’d been yelled at by his husband plenty of times like when he got his hearing aids--or wore his binder too long, but things like that were rare. He kissed the band gently, whispering into it like a prayer. “Come home soon Firecracker...” As if answering his call there was a faint thudding just edging into his hearing. Blinking in surprise he wandered toward the door, but when he opened it and saw Rude’s pinched expression, his heart sunk into his stomach. 

            “Um...let me get my hearing aids...” he offered quietly, before he turned, knowing Rude would see himself in and close the door behind them. His husbands partner didn’t like him at first, not that he could blame him. Cloud had been pretty messed up--but all it took was one look at Reno’s face as he held the others hand and he was satisfied. Of course he’d gotten the whole ‘break his heart I’ll break your face’ but he didn’t mind. ‘I’d like to see you try’ had been his reply and ever since they’d become pretty good friends. If Rude was here without Reno--that meant either he was wounded or in trouble...or worse, but he didn’t want to think about that. Slipping his hearing aids into place he reminded himself that Reno was stronger than that. He was probably pretty wounded, but otherwise fine. He had to hold to that. “Do you want anything to drink?” he asked, just trying to keep his hands busy as he paced back into the kitchen. 

              The turk watched him, his pained look growing as he observed the blonde. “We still have some tea--or if you want something stronger I think there’s brandy in the cupboard...” he was babbling, something he hadn’t really done before Reno. He supposed that was just a bad habit of his husbands he picked up. It helped--to feel as if his husband was near even if he couldn’t be physically. A heavy hand fell on his shoulder, gripping tightly and he stopped, blue eyes looking up to catch the others gaze. Rude took his glasses off, tears brimming in his own eyes and Clouds breath hitched. “Reno’s dead...” the man said. It was quiet but those words brought the blonde’s world crashing down on him. “No...” he choked out, his own eyes filling with tears. “Cloud I’m sorry but--I was there. I tried everything...but he couldn’t pull through. I’m sorry but he died in my arms...I know that it’s you who should have had that. But you know--in his last moments he only talked about you. He loved you so much and you made him happy--so...” 

                Cloud jerked away, collapsing on the floor as he shook with shock. “No...no no no!” It’s just couldn’t be true! Sure people died all the time and it ached...but not his husband. Through thick and thin--through worse scrapes then he could have ever imagined, his husband had survived it all. So to be told that this time he hadn’t...it broke the ex SOLDIER. That was the love of his life--another person so dear to him that he’d lost. The tears burned as he sobbed, hands tangling in his hair as he shook with panic. To his credit, Rude just let him wail it out, didn’t touch him. When the panic turned to denial, to blame and he beat his fists against the others chest--shook him by the collar of his shirt--he let him. When he was done, when all that was left was tears and regret, those arms wrapped around him and pulled him close. 

                 “I didn’t even get to say goodbye...” he choked out between sobs. Rude had apologized over and over again for not being able to bring him home and when the turk handed him the matching wedding ring, they both cried. When Neku came back he had to explain it to him because Cloud just couldn’t get the words out. Rude stayed, if only to talk over their memories--to tell Cloud how to get his things--and that he would be back later to help him plan a funeral. It was supposed to be a small affair--but the whole of the slums came to pay respects. Cloud was a dear face in the community now and his husband was the bright light next to him--everyone had been fond of the young couple. There was no one who didn’t have tears in their eyes and as he placed the final flower on the coffin (silently thanking Rude for bringing his husbands body back so they could at least properly bury him) he knew he’d never be the same. 

              So in the moment he whispered those words they always said when Reno went on a mission. “Don’t go where I can’t follow...” he sobbed quietly into the coffin. For a moment he could swear he heard a voice whisper. 

                “There’s nowhere you can’t follow.” 

[maiji]

Some thoughts on the new YYH OVAs

Lots of spoilers if you've never read the manga, slightly fewer spoilers if you have, but I talk about differences between the two so if you don't wanna know before you see it yourself SPOILER

The following is mostly observations on technical and visual storytelling things I find interesting. 

Voice acting. (I did amateur voice acting as a kid but I didn’t keep that up and obviously I’m super NOT a pro, so apologies if some of the following technical terminology use is not quite right.) Chiba Shigeru (Kuwabara) and Hiyama Nobuyuki (Hiei) are pretty consistent with their original voices from over two decades ago, which is pretty amazing in and of itself. Ogata Megumi (Kurama) and Sasaki Nozumu (Yusuke) have both drifted somewhat more noticeably for me.

In Ogata Megumi’s case, she's gotten so much more experience since her original breakout role, and is even more skilled at hitting and working through the tonal range/vocal register for a male character. This made it extra entertaining listening to TWO SHOTS since this is supposed to be a younger version of Kurama lol.

Sasaki Nozomu's voice seems to have changed a bit in the last decade or so. I hadn't been paying much attention to seiyuu stuff for a long time but I first really noticed a few years back when J Stars Victory VS came out (one of the Shounen Jump crossover fighting games) and I was watching trailers with Yusuke in them and was aurally thrown off. He had a pretty distinct voice with an unusual timbre that made me able to recognize him in almost anything I heard him in to the point where watching a Rurouni Kenshin OVA or hearing Cloud Strife yelling and grunting in Ehrgeiz made me go HEY THAT'S SASAKI NOZOMUUUUU!!!111. But I can't do it with his current take; it’s different. Or maybe I'm just old and out of touch now. lmao

Transitions and changes. 25 years later, animation technology has of course evolved hahaha. One thing I really noticed was how much more animation of the background it felt like there was compared to the original series, especially full-on rotations like when Kurama detects Hiei’s presence, or when Yatsude actually appears.

I'm fascinated by how things are adapted for different media and how the animators fill in the gaps between panels and sequences - I just love seeing what they come up with that didn’t exist in the original. So I was much more interested in Noruka Soruka than TWO SHOTS, the latter of which has already been tackled in other versions before. But all that said, and maybe this was a result of my expectations - I was actually pretty pleasantly surprised at the level of new tweaks they DID bring to the table in TWO SHOTS, and in some ways maybe more so than Noruka Soruka. I thought TWO SHOTS tackled adaptation challenges/changes exceptionally well. I also liked their decision to drop a less critical sequence (Maya's arrival at Yatsude’s) and give more focus to Kurama and Hiei's coordination during their fight VS Yatsude. And I really liked the use of colour! The contrast between the warm sunset palettes in Kurama’s “everyday” world/school life and the cold palette of the warehouse, for example. I found it really nicely executed. 

I had a lot of fun noting keyframes based on the manga, particularly parts that are flipped compared to the original panels. Decisions in comics paneling are generally based around how the artist wants to guide the eye for reading (e.g., characters facing towards the direction the reader is reading, like right to left in Japanese, help create forward momentum, while characters facing the the opposite way help to create mental pauses or slow the action down). It was interesting to note when the orientation changes in the anime, since animators are technically not constrained in the same way by that kind of composition consideration (albeit they still have others).

Other changes are often made to accommodate, or simply exist because of, the fact that animation has additional variables of sound and motion, and often things get exaggerated. For example, Kurama says something out loud instead of it being a thought in his mind as text on the panel; his reaction to something seems more overt because not only are we looking at his facial expression and a speech bubble going "Huh!" or whatever, we see the jolt of his head, the actual movement of his mouth, and hear the force in the startled exclamation, etc. I always find it very interesting to compare the directing with the additional factors now available. In some cases I still prefer the manga, perhaps because I tend to like subtle (boring...hard to explain... lol) things. For example, the intro with the guys wandering into Yatsude’s lair - I preferred the manga version where it cuts out as a straight on shot instead of the OVA where the camera has the motion of something zooming towards them from an angle that accelerates at the end. For me personally the former created a starker horror mood.

But I have to say what MOST impressed me about TWO SHOTS was probably Yatsude. I thought they did a fantastic job translating his design and fleshing out this character’s motion/movement quirks and attacks for full animation and giving him a really solid presence and weight.

As mentioned when Noruka Soruka was first announced, I was most curious how they would handle the ending since it actually concludes in the next chapter and was adapted for the anime's actual ending. And they... did it in possibly the most straightforward way possible. Which for some reason I didn't think was what they would do since I thought it would be too abrupt. Hahaha.

Some frivolous things that amused me:

Seeing Yusuke's bedhead rendered in anime yeahhh!

Seeing and hearing Yusuke talking to Enki on the phone while the latter is getting Salonpas applied lmao

Watching the takeover of the guards with the timer. Mainly the part where Yusuke and Kuwabara land on the guards after coming out of the Jigentou dimension cut lmao

Hearing the interpretation of what the parrot grass sounds like lmao

Seeing big Puu with ears. (Togashi forgot about Puu's ears or maybe consciously changed Puu's design or SOMETHING in nearly all the panels throughout the end of the story.)

The additional sequences in the evacuation scenes. The Easter eggs of Kuwabara's dad and another alien Hiei made me laugh. Especially because I’M PRETTY SURE THIS IS THE ALTA BUILDING

SEE 

(also while trying get this streetview Google maps tried to give me directions to this building from Canada lmao) 

 Also this part:

Me: “Who’s that dude?”

Me: “OH YeAH IT’S YUSUKE’S BODY.”

Me: “For god’s sakes Keiko can carry him herself AND run out of both a house on fire and an exploding stadium.”

Last but not least, Hiei using Kokuryuha made me laugh. This doesn't happen in the manga, but I understand the need since it's considered his signature move. I just found it really funny because it's technically such an OVERWHELMINGLY DESTRUCTIVE MOVE saved for only the utmost of opponents. At that proximity it probably would have immolated not only all the enemies but also all of the Spirit World people they were trying to save. So it was kind of like watching someone go "man there are a lot of annoying mosquitoes in this room" and then whipping out a flamethrower to get rid of them lmao

[ro-visiting-the-bureau]

Birthday Bash Prompt 4: Jealousy/Fisticuffs

Posting for YarningChick, who does not have a tumblr but wanted to share her fills with you guys

A/N: Baron’s best original line in this story is provided by Garbage CAN not Can’t.  This is partially based on my only dinner theatre experience (Beauty and the Beast!!!!) and a nice talk with Catsafari.

This is what parenthood was all about, wasn’t it?  Doing something you don’t care about for the sake of your child?  She could have been snug at home, making more progress on her deadline and maybe listening to the radio for inspiration.

Instead, she was doing a favor for a comrade-at-arms.  At least, that was how it felt. 

“Reservation?” a tired-looking woman asked as the couple before them in line were escorted into the main theatre.

“It should be under ‘Hashima’ for three,” Naoko answered, wrapping one arm each over her own daughter and the girl she had all but adopted by now, nudging her large handbag behind her so that Haru didn’t have to bend around it for the embrace.

Hiromi was nearly bouncing in her sneakers with glee.  All three of them had made an effort to dress a little nicer than usual, but Hiromi had forgotten her dress shoes at her own home.  Naoko couldn’t resist being grateful that Haru had given her the perfect excuse to keep her regular sandals instead of suffer through high heels for two hours.

“Ah, there you are,” the woman said with a slight more enthusiasm as her pen jabbed at a line near the top.  “Naru?  Table number three’s here.”

The younger woman serving as a waitress this evening nearly bounced forward with a huge grin.  “So which one’s the birthday girl?”

“That’d be me!” Hiromi chirruped like a bird, making her best friend roll her eyes with a resigned smile.

“Right this way.  Man, I wish my dad would do something like this for my birthday,” Naru pouted, leading the three women to a round table that was very close to the stage.  It wasn’t far from where a single musician in medieval attire was contentedly playing on a lute to set the mood.  Three places at the table had been set in a formal setting, but the middle place had a folded golden napkin instead of wine red.

“That one’s yours,” Haru asserted, easing the appropriate chair out for her friend before the waitress had a chance.

Hiromi blinked.  “Are you sure you don’t want to sit next to your mom?  We could switch the napkins, I doubt Naru would tattle on us.”

“I can handle one night of letting you be the center of attention, dear,” Naoko soothed her, even though she had been looking forward to sitting next to instead of across from her child. 

But a birthday was still a birthday, and she didn’t want to risk a misunderstanding later.  Her hands gently added pressure until Hiromi was sitting and Haru could push in the chair slightly.

The lighter brunette had to laugh at the familiar gesture.  “Who needs a boyfriend with a friend like you, Haru?”

“Ha ha,” she answered dryly, settling herself into the left seat as Naoko did the same on the right.  Noticing that a program was where her plate would soon be, she curiously took a peak at the menu side.  “Mom, what’s bruschetta?”

“Toasted slices of bread with something on it,” she replied, already fishing a quilt square out of her large bag.  “It’s a common starting point in Italian meals.”

Hiromi couldn’t help but giggle as she looked over the menu as well. “Italian Wedding Soup!  Man, this is the best time for this dish!”

“Other than an Italian wedding,” Naru agreed with a laugh, already returning to her post to escort more guests to their assigned tables.  “Don’t worry; everything’s been prepared without alcohol, and the bowl of shards is just stained glass candy.”

“That’s one less thing to worry about,” Naoko muttered under her breath as she wove her needle into a time-consuming stitch.  “Our bottle of sparkling cider made me nervous before I looked at the label.”

“I’m pretty sure they would have checked I.D.s if they were going that authentic for the meal,” Haru pointed out while looking over the program in half-interest, helping herself to a red shard and licking it like a lollipop.  “We’d have probably ordered pizza and let Hiromi pick a movie if they were doing that.”

‘That would have suited me just fine,’ Naoko couldn’t resist thinking in resignation as her needle continued to dance. 

Taking in her daughter’s best friend while her father was out of town was no chore, but his birthday request on Hiromi’s behalf was definitely cutting into time that she didn’t have to spare.  Still, it had been a while since she had done something with her own daughter, and at least neither of them minded her bringing a bit of work to the theatre.

“Orange custard for dessert,” the birthday girl announced firmly while pointing at the menu again.  “I don’t know what that is, but it sounds like ice cream.”

“Well, more of a sherbet,” the lutenist called from his chair with a roguish grin.  “I got a small taste from the first batch this morning, and it wasn’t bad.”

Hiromi beamed happily as she looked around the theatre.  Nearly all of the tables had occupants now.  It couldn’t be much longer!

It was still a good fifteen minutes more before the doors were closed and the waiters had finished passing each table a plate of the bruschetta.

‘Thank heaven we’re close enough to the stage so I can work by the dimmed light,’ Naoko couldn’t resist being grateful for as the lights overhead grew faint.  ‘I just hope the actors don’t take offense.’ 

The lutenist got up from his chair to inch closer to the side door of the stage, letting his fingers steadily play softer and softer until stopping completely when he was safely out of sight.

Hiromi looked up around a mouthful of the soup, swallowing it and using the golden napkin to pat the broth on her chin away as Haru regretfully lowered the last of the bruschetta.

Instead of the stage, the actors came in from the main door, circulating between the tables in a slow and steady pace.  As one, townspeople, noblemen, and everything in between chanted as one with their palms clasped to their chests.

“Two households, both alike in dignity,

“In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,

“From ancient grudge to new mutiny,

“Where civil blood made civil hands unclean-”

The dignified introduction was ruined when one of the bigger actors accidentally tripped over an unused chair that someone had forgotten to push back in with a surprised yell.

The somber mood was ruined.  Nearly the entire room erupted into laughter at the classic slap-stick as the large man, blushing scarlet, hurried to his feet and snatched his fallen sword away from a curious three-year-old.  His face was like a storm cloud as he stomped toward the stage, using his voice like a megaphone to try distracting the crowd.

“From forth the fatal loins of these two foes!

“A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life!”

The other actors joined in again, although more than a few of them had silly smiles that further dampened the attempt at a regal setting.

“Whose misadventure piteous overthrows

“Doth with their death bury their parents’ strife.”

“Spoiler alert,” Hiromi breathed through a small giggle.

Thankfully, the next scene was free of unplanned incidents.  Naoko got a bit worried when the big actor, playing the part of Tybalt, got a little too enthusiastic with knocking down the other actors with sword or fist, but thankfully the actor playing the prince showed up before any real damage was done. 

It was definitely easier to tell which person was Capulet or Montague, since the outfits were color-coded.  Montagues were all in varying shades of green, while those loyal to them had accents or hose of green.  Red was the theme for the Capulets, and those that were loyal to the prince or neutral were in white, or brown for the lower born.

‘Which makes sense since Friar Laurence cared for both of the families.’  Finished with the blue embroidery thread, Naoko spooned a few mouthfuls of the soup before searching through her bag for the red thread.  ‘I don’t even like Shakespeare!  Why am I here if the only thing I like is my daughter, Hiromi, and the food?  I could have taken us to a restaurant and been done with all this in a bare minimum of half the time.’

After the prince was done breaking up the fight, Lord and Lady Montague started discussing their worries for their son with a taller actor with glasses serving as Benvolio. 

It was soon clear why he had been chosen for that role.  Everything about his demeanor screamed ‘wet blanket’.  It was such a shame that his long-standing friendship with Romeo wasn’t enough for some of that ‘think before you jump’ mentality to rub off on the titular character.

After a while, a resigned sigh echoed through the room, making Naoko turn her head to see who was as ‘thrilled’ to be here as she was.

There was one actor that must have slipped in when the others had and stayed silent against the farthest wall until the crucial moment.

Naoko had to admit, he was a very handsome youth.  Perhaps in college, well-built, and crowned with a thick head of strawberry blonde hair.  He was dressed in a light green hose and a deep emerald doublet with gold embroidery that the quilter couldn’t help but get distracted by.

But hey, it was a better alternative then checking out someone young enough to be her son.

Romeo was wandering aimlessly between the tables with a far away expression, almost absently pushing an empty chair to the table with one foot before another accident could occur.

“See, where he comes.  So please you step aside

“I’ll know his grievance, or be much denied.” Benvolio promised his aunt and uncle, properly stepping down from the stage and running between the tables.

It was almost sad, how believable Romeo made his heartbreak seem, even if some of the passages were slightly on the vulgar side on his hopes for the unnamed girl. 

‘Why are parents letting their little kids watch something this crude?  Why am I letting Haru listen to something this crude?’

Thankfully, her sweet angel was spending most of her attention on her soup before it got cold, although she was keeping one eye on the two men as Benvolio attempted to comfort, and Romeo refused the comfort.

The slight blush on her face said loud and clear that she wasn’t checking out Romeo’s gold embroidery like her mother.

Sighing with resignation, Benvolio wrapped an arm around Romeo and gently eased him to face away from the stage to speak more privately.

While the audience had been neatly distracted, Lord Capulet, Paris, and a servant had taken over the stage to speak of Paris’ hope of marrying Juliet.

‘Not seen the change of fourteen years?!’ Naoko started fuming again, attempting to calm herself before setting needle to fabric again.

The pretty blonde woman in all red she had glimpsed before in the chorus was definitely not a brand-new teenager, but the idea still made her blood boil.  Forget Romeo’s age; how old was Paris to insist this badly that he wanted to make a thirteen-year-old Juliet a mother as soon as possible?  She was obviously still a baby herself!

Thank heaven society standards have evolved since then!  But next time someone tried to sweet-talk her into watching Shakespeare, the quilter would be remembering all this.

The all-too cheerful servant was happy to take the list of names he was meant to invite to the Capulet feast, but remembers after leaving the stage by the side stair towards the tables that he can’t read the list.

‘Yet another downside to having uneducated servants,’ Naoko couldn’t help thinking smugly as the servant pretended to run down Romeo and Benvolio to see if they could read the list.   ‘It could have potentially kept your daughter, nephew, prospective son-in-law, and many others from getting killed in less than a week if you had let them have a bit of schooling.’

Romeo was delighted by the list, since the poor girl he was interested in was among the invited guests, but it was Benvolio who spoke as the servant went on his merry way.  He drew the actor aside, towards the table where Naoko and her girls were enjoying their meal.

“At this same ancient feast of Capulet’s “Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so loves,” Benvolio told his friend with repressed jubilation, waving a grand hand at Hiromi, who stopped licking a blue candy shard in surprise.

Romeo’s eye had been to Hiromi to continue the small homage, but it almost slipped of its own accord to Haru instead.   There his gaze stayed in a spell of wonder, and his mouth slowly fell open in astonishment.  The rest of Benvolio’s lines fell on deaf ears, and the lead missed his cue long enough to make people from other tables start squirming around to see why things had suddenly stopped.

“Um, crow?” Benvolio prodded, both with his voice and with an elbow, but Romeo continued staring at the brunette like he had forgotten how to do anything else.

Haru was now blushing at the unexpected attention from the handsome stranger, using her large brown eyes to unthinkingly perfect the ‘deer in the headlights’ look as she tried to shrink down in her seat to put some distance between them. 

It was then that Naoko fully appreciated that her daughter had taken some pains to look nicer than usual tonight for Hiromi’s special birthday dinner.  Her simple handmade dress of varying green hues neatly mirrored Romeo’s color scheme and eyes.  By having the top part of her hair held back in a braided crown instead of the standard ponytail, she could almost have passed for one of the Montagues herself!

“… She doth teach the torches to burn bright!” Romeo finally breathed in complete appreciation, forgetting that anyone else was in the theatre.  A different, gentler smile was playing on his lips as his green eyes grew tender.

Haru blushed redder than a Capulet tunic before almost frantically pointing a finger at her friend.  “Not me!  Her!” she tried to remind him through a whisper.

Hiromi had caught on to what was intended to happen by now, but her ecstatic grin said loud and clear she didn’t mind the change of plans.  “She doesn’t have a boyfriend,” she tattled in a similar whisper.

“Go for it!” Naoko also encouraged, shoving her needlework into her bag for now. ‘He isn’t looking at her the way the Romeo so far would!’

Romeo beamed at both the news and encouragement, but a horror-stricken Benvolio grabbed him by the arm and started physically dragging him away before he could prematurely continue the ‘ne’er seen true beauty’ speech.

Haru breathed a deep sigh once he was a good ten feet away, even if he was still fighting to close that distance again.

“Yes!  There sups the fair Rosaline thou loves!” Benvolio began again, his tone now verging on the edge of panic as he tried to remind the other actor they were indeed acting.

“With all the admired beauties of Verona.

“Go thither, and with unattained eye,

“Compare her face with some that I shall show,

“And I will make thee think thy swan a crow.”

The disappointment on Romeo’s features turned to rage, making him double acrobatically on Benvolio until he was standing and had a fistful of the man’s purple and green doublet by the throat.  He had been shorter by a head’s worth, but now he seemed to tower over poor Benvolio that now seemed genuinely afraid for his life.

“One fairer than my love?  The all-seeing sun

“Ne’er saw her match since first the world begun!”  the lead snarled, more than willing to defend his lady from such slander.  He even had one fist raised in a silent promise to beat better taste into the man if he spoke against Rosaline again.

Naoko couldn’t hold back her enjoyment, even if she had wasted thought on it.Now that there was a girl Romeo actually liked, his enforced countenance had changed from the medieval equivalent of a whiny, horny teenager to the most chivalrous of knights.  For her sweet daughter, no less!  ‘I take back everything I’ve thought for the past week!  This is where I want to be!’

Hiromi was grinning from ear to ear as she took a firm grip on Haru’s arm to keep her from crawling underneath the table out of sheer embarrassment as the other tables caught onto what had caused the change in Romeo.

Benvolio fought to regain his composure and whispered something quickly before speaking again in a louder voice.

“Tut! You saw her fair, none else being by,

“Herself poised with herself in either eye:

“But in that crystal scales let there be weighed

“Your lady’s love against some other maid

“That I will show you shining at this feast,

“And she shall scant show well that now seems best.”

Romeo was giving him the death glare, and mentally counted to ten before dragging his friend back to the stage for their exit. 

“I’ll go along, no such sight to be shown,

“But to rejoice in the splendor of my own.”  He managed to make eye contact with Haru at this, and did his best to offer an apologetic, adoring smile before he was swallowed up in the curtains surrounding the stage.

Haru moved her soup aside enough to rest her head on the table.  “That did not happen.  That did not happen,” was slightly muffled by her brown locks.

Still beaming, Hiromi reached over with one hand to start rubbing her back in comfort.  “That totally happened.  That totally happened, you lucky jerk!”

Haru looked up fiercely with a glare.  “Not all of us like that much attention, Hiromi!  This was supposed to be your birthday surprise!  Your dad arranged it with the director, that’s why you had a gold napkin!”

Hiromi couldn’t stop impishly grinning as she used her other hand to start sucking on the shard again.  “This is so much better!  You’re going to talk to him after the show, right?” she asked eagerly.

“What?  No!” Haru was aghast at the thought, taking a quick look around the theatre for the exits.  “If anything, I should leave before the next scene!”

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” one young man called out from a table over, still holding hands with his giggling date.  “I’m on the fencing team with Baron, and he’s never reacted to a girl like that before.  Save yourself the embarrassment of having him track you down later, because he will.”

“I have your word on that?” Naoko pressed, one eye on the stage in case ‘Baron’ snuck another look at Haru.

Tybalt poked his head out instead, looking straight at Haru as if mentally weighing her.  Tilting his head to one side as if mentally saying ‘not so bad’, the head then retreated to the other side of the black curtain.

The college kid from the table nodded through a grin.  “You bet, ma’am!  Baron’s next to nothing like Romeo off the stage.  You won’t have to worry if he’s going to be a-”

“FIGHT ME, PEASANT!” Romeo suddenly roared, a chorus of violent sounds and surprised yells coming from the back stage. 

The only evidence on this side was how the curtains were billowing and getting moved around quickly, as if a tornado were rampaging on the other side.

“Baron, don’t!  You’re supposed to fake-kill him later!  Fake!” someone could just be heard trying to reason.

Haru paled before burying her face in her hands as the sounds continued.  “Somebody tell me that he’s getting into fisticuffs over something other than me.”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Naoko apologized, now too excited to return to her sewing.  “Tybalt looked like he was going to say something right before the second fight broke out.”

“Ye-eah.  Just take it for granted that he won’t put up with any disrespect to her,” the college guy finished with a nervous laugh as his date patted him on the back with sympathy.

ooOoo

It took a while, but the play got back on track.  After the scene that introduced Juliet and her nurse, they began the somewhat lengthy affair of ‘getting the party started’.  There were a few of the actors that were working around limps that hadn’t been there at the beginning of the play, and one that was being especially tender of one of his arms.  Nearly all of them were sneaking curious glances at Haru as they past by her table, but it was hard to read what they were thinking.

Romeo was still noticeable, of course.  His small black mask helped conceal the force of his gaze, but regardless of where he was in the reverie, his eyes never really left Haru.

“Please let me hide under the table,” she begged Hiromi, who still had a vice-like grip on her arm.

“Never,” she smirked, pulled her seat a little closer to her friend to ensure that she didn’t move.

The party was a little more three-dimensional than anticipated, since the actors were spreading out between the tables again, as if all the theatre were a part of the stage.  Naoko had to admit that it made her feel like the play was slightly more real, but she had to admit that she was really looking forward to when Romeo finally had a chance to talk to her daughter!

Juliet, looking every inch a princess in her scarlet gown and flowing golden hair, managed to dance close enough to their table with a random Capulet guest, daintily helping herself to the big red rose on their floral arrangement.  She held it to her nose to artfully partake of its fragrance, resting one hand on the tablecloth as she paused in her merrymaking.  “Psst, Rosaline,” she whispered, letting the rose mask her lips to anyone that wasn’t at their table.

Haru looked up at her as if she feared the worst. 

“I’m letting you have my share of the custard after the show for what’s about to happen.  Sorry in advance,” Juliet whispered as gently as possible while sneaking the girl a sympathetic look.

Haru opened her mouth to make the standard inquiry, but started blushing again as Romeo managed to say above all the suddenly softened noise;

“What lady’s that, which doth enrich the hand

Of yonder knight?”

“Oh, please no,” Haru choked, catching onto Juliet’s strategic placement.

Romeo’s sudden infatuation with her had been anything but subtle.  But with Juliet standing right next to her, it enabled the illusion that the sweet flowery speech was really directed at her instead of some stranger trying to mind her own business.

“Hang in there,” the Capulet escorting Juliet murmured, casually reaching back and patting the poor girl’s hand.  “What Baron lacks in subtlety, he makes up for in everything else.”

Haru had her face down on the table again, making an agonized groan as she tried to drown out the flowery speech with her hands to her ears.

‘Poor Haru,’ Naoko couldn’t think without resisting a giggle.  ‘She’s never gotten attention like this from a boy before.  I hope he’s at least a gentleman once he gets all the Shakespeare out of his system.’

“Did my heart love ‘till now?  Forswear it, sight!

“For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night,” Romeo finished crooning like a lovesick idiot.

Juliet comfortingly patted Haru’s head once Romeo was done swooning, gave a sly wink to Hiromi and Naoko, and rejoined the party as the focus switched to Tybalt and Lord Capulet.

“Nice to know she isn’t mad about this,” Hiromi whispered to Naoko, who nodded her agreement before reaching across the table to nudge her daughter’s arm.

“Please stop that, Haru.  You’re too old to pout like this.”

Her child lifted her head enough to level a glare at her mother with one eye.  “You’re not the one everyone’s staring at this time.  Sorry, but I’m Dad’s kid on this.”

Naoko felt her heartstrings twang violently at the reminder.  She gave a deep, reminiscing sigh as she took hold of her daughter’s hand, dragging it across the tablecloth so that she could continue to grip those familiar fingers.

Hiromi understood the pain of losing a parent, so she reached forward to lay her hand on top of theirs.  “We’re still here for you, Haru.  You’re not doing this alone, you know.”

That glare softened into a loving glow as she slowly sat up, keeping their hands in hers until it was resting in Hiromi’s lap.  Naoko scooted her chair a little closer to Hiromi’s to make the clasp a little less strained but kept an eye on who she was dead certain was her future son-in-law.

As expected, when he had to do the ‘pilgrim small talk’ with Juliet, she was once more between them in such a way that Baron could see Haru over one shoulder.  His eyes were still gentle and adoring as they looked at the brunette, but when it came time for the first kiss, he actually blanched.  His eyes turned wide and panicked as they darted between Juliet and Haru, but what had been said couldn’t be taken back.

Naoko could see a mischievous smirk on the side of Juliet’s face as she intentionally lowered her head for him to press a kiss to her forehead instead.  He did so with a grateful smile, then carried on as if the kiss had been normal.

There was a mixed reaction from the dinner participants.  Some of the ones that were a little farther away had obviously been hoping for a real kiss, but the ones closer to the front were passing thumbs-up to the true object of Romeo’s affections.

“Quick thinking,” Haru couldn’t help muttering with a wan smile, giving small hand waves to acknowledge the bits of encouragement complete strangers were offering her. 

Yes, everything was going surprisingly well for the remainder of the scene.  Romeo found out who Juliet was, although he should have known from crashing a Capulet party, and he was mournfully leaving as Juliet began inquiring her nurse as to the man’s identity.

But then Romeo made the mistake of looking over his shoulder for a last glimpse of Haru.  As such, he didn’t see the one chair left out by a patron that was paying a quick visit to the bathroom.

“Look out-” Haru tried to warn, but it was already too late as the man tripped on the chair and scraping one arm against the table’s edge.

There must have been an exposed nail or sharp edge that had been overlooked, because the sound of ripping cloth was surprisingly deafening.

Romeo looked down at the rip that had turned half of his sleeve into an open one, exposing the snow white tunic underneath.  Blushing terribly, he stumbled to his feet while using his other hand to hold the tear together as he made a hasty exit to the door that lead backstage.

Naoko took no time at all for her decision.  Getting up from her seat, she marched around the table, grabbed her daughter’s hand, and started dragging her to the same door that Romeo had disappeared into.

“Mom?” Haru asked in a horrified whisper, almost as if she knew what her mother was planning.

Mercutio stepped in front of them with his arms out in a blocking gesture.  “Now’s a really bad time,” he nearly begged in a whisper as Juliet and her nurse spoke in louder voices in an effort to distract the dinner guests from Romeo’s embarrassment or Mercutio’s attempted intervention.

Naoko threw her large bag into her daughter’s surprised arms and pushed her a little closer to the actor while keeping her own voice just as low.  “My daughter’s been making her own clothes for years.  She can handle Romeo’s doublet.”

“Mom!” Haru hissed in mortification, but Naoko only returned a steely smile.

“If I go fix his doublet, what kind of information do you think I’ll give him before it’s done?  Besides, you’re faster at hand-sewing than I am.”

Despite herself, Haru managed a small glare while holding the bag to her chest.  “Well, you’re the one that’s always on the sewing machine for work, what choice do I have?”

Mercutio took a brief second to look over Haru’s well-fitted dress before clasping his hands to her with a heavy breath.  “We can’t keep a tailor to save our lives, and we desperately need a good one right now.  If Baron hits on you harder than you can handle, I’ll knock him on the head until he behaves.”

Haru still looked sick, but at least she understood there was no time to work with.  “Lead the way,” she invited with a weak smile, making him beam and wrap an arm around her shoulders to encourage a fast walk to the door that quickly swallowed them both.

“Sorry about robbing you of Haru for the rest of the night,” Naoko apologized to Hiromi as she claimed her seat.

The birthday girl was smirking as she carefully chose an orange shard to lick.  “What do you think her chances are of walking away without a date?”

Naoko beamed while letting herself suck on a green shard.  “Nonexistent.”

Hiromi wickedly giggled her approval.  “Lucky jerk.”

xxXxx

For clarification:

Romeo- Baron

Juliet- Louise

Benvolio- Natori

Mercutio- Toto

Tybalt- Muta

The Prince/Director- Lune

Capulet servant- Natoru

[zephfair]

Day 17 FFVII fic

Day 17 of the 30-Day AU Challenge is the Old West AU. I made an outline for a Bleach fic but then I realized I’d rather finish the sequel to my FFVII Wild West AU fluff.

Rated: G I think

Characters: pre-Cloud/Sephiroth, Angeal, Zack, Genesis and Cloud’s mom

Warnings: Fluff? If you didn’t like the first story, you’ll hate this too! xD

Cloud wasn’t really sure how his life had come to this. Sure, he’d made some bad choices—well, really, just one very huge bad choice—but now here he was, hurrying down the back street of Midgar, hoping and praying that no one could see him.

He’d known he’d chosen the wrong saloon to try and rob when the man had risen from behind the bar like one of the old gods rising up from the mountain. He knew he’d made a terrible mistake when the man just sassed him the entire time and then tried to poison him. Cloud had overheard someone once mention the “gray-haired” bartender and just assumed… and it had been the only place that was open yet vacant so early in the morning…

It wasn’t like he’d actually planned to commit a felony. He’d only taken Ma’s old pistol along just in case. Cloud knew he was a decent shot with Pappy’s old rifle, if the big critters living on the mountain happened on him. Ma always said that pistols were only good for killing one particular kind of animal, and she’d forbidden Cloud to have one, even if he’d ever had the money to buy one of the six-shooters he fantasized about. That didn’t explain why she’d kept the old single-shot, but she’d let slip once her daddy’d given it to her the day she was married, just in case. It made Cloud wonder.

She didn’t even know he’d slipped it into his pack when he was getting ready to leave the mountain. None of the other Nibelheim settlers believed the pass was open to get down to Midgar, but Cloud knew he had to try. There wasn’t enough provisions to go around, and Ma seemed weaker every day.

So it wasn’t like he’d planned to rob anyone, if the old man Lockhart had just extended the settlement’s credit a little more and let Cloud put his last pennies down on the medicine, but he’d refused and Cloud had had no choice.

It was fair to say he was ashamed by the whole encounter—no, he was more than that. He was embarrassed, mortified, would have gladly dug a hole and buried himself if it meant never having to go to Midgar again and run into that bartender. The entire thing had been just wrong.

He tucked the pistol away, clutched the basket of food tightly and hurried down the back streets and alleys to where his borrowed mule was still hitched outside the general store. His stomach knotted when he realized he couldn’t even go into the store now because surely the bartender would have raised the cry and the town would soon be after him. No, he’d had to travel another day down to Junon and hope he could find enough supplies and medicine there before it was too late.

He tied on the basket and was climbing onto the saddle when he felt someone grab the back of his belt. “Nope, you’re not going anywhere yet,” a voice said cheerfully as he was yanked to the ground.

“What the—who’re you?” Cloud tried to bluster.

“Aw, you hurt my feelings. I’ve seen you twice today, and you don’t even remember me?”

As if Cloud could forget the bigger, taller boy with the strange, spiky dark hair and the huge smile. “You were at the saloon,” Cloud said weakly.

“Hey, you do remember! Musta made an impression on you! I’m Zack!”

“I gotta go, Zack. Nice to meet you,” Cloud tried to reach around Zack to the saddle, but Zack was firmly in the way.

“Sorry, I can’t let you go yet. Seph wants me to bring you back.”

Cloud absolutely didn’t whimper. He made one last lunge to get away from Zack, but Zack just laughed delightedly and picked him up, slinging him over his shoulder. Then he started back to the saloon. Cloud stared at his ass from close range and thought furiously.

He wasn’t sure of the punishment for holding up a saloon. Hanging was for horse thieves. And murderers. What was whipping for? Would they even bother with a trial? Or just string him up right ow?

He thought of thumping on Zack to make him let go, but the other boy was much taller and broader so certainly stronger. He would just wait until, yes, Zack was putting him down and saying something—

Cloud took off as soon as his boots touched the ground. He didn’t know where he was, he just knew he needed to get away. Zack swore then recaptured him within a few steps.

“I ain’t gonna hurt you kid, neither is Seph. He just wants to talk to you—ouch! Don’t try biting me, I’m too tough for that!”

And so Zack held him as firmly as a mother cat carried a kitten by the scuff of the neck and pointed him at the door of the saloon. When Cloud tried to dig in his heels, Zack propelled him through the swinging doors with a little shake.

There was no one there. The beautiful man was gone. Cloud fleetingly wondered if he’d stepped out to gather the rest of the townspeople for the public punishment of his robber. Nah, he looked more like the type of man who would take the law into his own hands.

Cloud broke out in the cold sweat. Zack looked at him closer. “You all right there, fella? You don’t look too good.”

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Cloud said weakly.

Zack pushed him into a chair at a table and went behind the bar. Cloud lay his head on the table and gave up all thoughts of trying to run. His Ma was going to kill him. Oh wait. If he was dead, she wouldn’t be able to. But she’d still come to his grave and yell at him. If she made it without the medicine, oh no, he was gonna—

“Here,” Zack thrust a mug of something at him. Cloud almost threw up right there. “It’s supposed to help if you’re feeling sickly. Angeal taught me.”

Cloud looked at it suspiciously, not wanting to trust anyone after the bartender’s trick. Then he sniffed it and tried a taste. It was good but he didn’t think it was gonna help. “Thanks,” he said, looking up at Zack who was standing close beside him.

Zack had a little grin on his face and he reached out to ruffle Cloud’s hair. Somewhere along the way he’d lost his hat. “Seph ain’t gonna hurt you. He just asked me to bring ya back here.” Zack plopped down in the chair beside him and propped his feet up on the table. “Why don’t ya tell me about your village? You from Nibelheim?”

So Cloud started spilling out the story of the hard winter and the closed-off pass and the coughing sickness that was going around and his ma couldn’t shake. The elders didn’t think he could make it, but he knew he had to try. There just wasn’t enough food to go around. But Cloud had made it through only to find out that the general store wouldn’t give him enough on credit and no medicine at all, and so Cloud thought he had to find another way.

He was morosely recounting the attempted hold-up to Zack who was laughing hysterically when Sephiroth returned. Cloud froze and went silent. Zack wiped tears off his face and beamed at Sephiroth who was surveying them from the doors.

“He’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, Seph,” Zack said.

Sephiroth said, “How many times have I told you to keep your feet off my tables, Zack?” Zack’s feet hit the floor with a thump and Sephiroth turned to Cloud. “I am Sephiroth. This is my saloon. You are?”

“Cloud Strife,” Cloud choked out. “Are you gonna hang me?”

“What? No!��� Sephiroth’s expression was the most shocked Zack had ever seen. “I assume you needed the supplies for your family?” When Zack nodded fervently because Cloud was still frozen, Sephiroth said, “Come outside. I did what I could.”

Cloud looked from him to Zack and back again then down at the table. “Mister, I’m real sorry for what I did. I never should’ve tried—”

“Leave it,” Sephiroth commanded and Cloud looked up at him again. “You were obviously desperate, and I’ve been in desperate straits myself. Now, come with me.” He turned and went back through the doors, leaving Cloud to stare at Zack.

“Is he taking me to jail?” Cloud whispered loudly, but Zack only shook his head.

“Come on, kid, Sephiroth doesn’t like to have to say things twice.” Zack helped him with a strong hand on his elbow which Cloud was secretly grateful for because his legs were still limp and shaking.

They almost buckled when he stepped out onto the porch and saw the wagon. It was packed with bags and barrels of foodstuffs and supplies. His own mule was waiting patiently in the harness.

“I don’t understand,” Cloud said to the tall man who stood watching his reaction.

“You needed money for supplies for your village and for your family, did you not? I put these on my credit at the general store, oh, along with,” Sephiroth reached into his pocket for another packet that he held out to Cloud. “The medicine for your ma. Doc Hollander swears by it.”

Cloud just stared at the packet then up into Sephiroth’s face. The open, awed expression on his sweet face made Sephiroth take a deep breath. “I can’t take all this,” Cloud said quietly.

“Sure you can!” Zack slung his arm around Cloud’s neck and almost made him fall over.

“You will take it,” Sephiroth told him. “Consider it a loan. When your ma is well, you should consider bringing her down out of the mountains to Midgar. We have a lot more to offer you. And then you can work off your debt to me.”

Sephiroth didn’t think Cloud had even blinked, although his big, blue eyes were filling with tears. Cloud finally moved to wipe his forearm across his eyes and then he reached out and took the packet of medicine.

“I owe you more than I can ever pay. But I will find a way,” Cloud vowed.

“I’m sure we’ll find ways,” Sephiroth agreed and then gestured to Zack. “Let him go, Zack, so he can be on his way.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much,” Cloud turned to both of them. “I’ll never forget this. I’ll be back and I’ll make it good.”

“I’m sure you will,” Sephiroth said lowly, making Zack stare at him, but Cloud was already hurrying to the wagon’s seat. He waved to the two of them and started the mule on its way.

Zack waved back at him until he was out of sight down the street then he turned on Sephiroth. “You like him! I heard you; you’ve never talked to anyone that way!”

Sephiroth shrugged and turned to the saloon doors. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Zack hooted, “You do! You think he’s the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen!” Sephiroth ignored him but it wasn’t a deterrent anymore. “Wait ‘til I tell Angeal and Gen!”

That made Sephiroth whirl on him. “Don’t you dare,” he narrowed his eyes at Zack. “If you ever want to be welcome in my saloon again, you will not say one word to either of them.”

Zack held up his hands in surrender. “Fine, geez, calm down. I’ll keep yer secret. At least until he comes back.”

Sephiroth sighed and readied himself to get back to work. “Who knows if he ever will come back? I know what he said, but it sounds like his mother has a hold over him. She won’t allow him out of the village, most likely, so we’ll probably never see him again.”

Later Zack would crow that it was the first—and possibly only—time he’d ever known Sephiroth to be wrong. Because after spring had turned to summer, Cloud Strife drove up to Sephiroth’s saloon in the borrowed wagon filled this time with all his and his ma’s belongings to work off his debt as an odd-jobs boy.

Sephiroth idly thought that it was a blessing that Zack wasn’t there that afternoon when Cloud walked into his saloon, his mother in tow. Sephiroth had heard the expression stunned to silence but he didn’t think he’d ever use it about himself. He was in shock and yet somehow overjoyed that the boy was back.

Cloud stood before him, rounded cheeks rosy pink and suspiciously clean, hat off but blond hair wild, and his clothes straighter and neater than before. Taking a longer look, Sephiroth thought he looked a little more nourished now as well.

Then the petite blonde woman beside him elbowed Cloud sharply and he jolted. “Um, hi, I don’t know if you remember me? I was in this spring, and you—”

“Yes,” Sephiroth said wryly, “I remember you very well. And you must be Mrs. Strife.” He held out his hand to the woman then bowed over hers when she extended it.

“Just call me Miz Strife,” she said in an accent that was as charming as Cloud’s. “This here boy is going to apologize to you for that fool stunt he pulled and then he is going to work for you doing whatever you want to make up the debt. And we do thank you for the supplies. You saved our village.”

“You are most welcome,” Sephiroth demurred. “And I accept Cloud’s apology. As I told him before, I well know what it’s like to be desperate. I would have done the same thing.”

“Only better probably,” Cloud said under his breath, and his mother cuffed his ear without even looking.

“Now, Cloud, what do you have to say to Mister Sephiroth?”

“Just Sephiroth, please.”

“Cloud,” his Miz Strife said warningly.

“I’m real sorry, Mister, er, Sephiroth. I shouldn’t’a done what I did, and I swear I’ll never do something that stupid again. Now put me to work doing whatever you want, and I’ll do it. I promise.”

Sephiroth realized that those big glowing eyes peering up at him were going to be his downfall. He had visions of all the ways he wanted to put Cloud to work, but then cleared his throat and looked away to get himself under control.

When he looked back at them, Miz Strife was giving him a narrowed-eyed look. But she didn’t say anything when Sephiroth ushered them to a table and offered them a drink of sassafras tea to wash the dust of travel out of their throats.

Miz Strife told him all about her decision to get out of Nibelheim and get Cloud somewhere that he could have a future without worrying about going hungry every winter. She didn’t have anywhere to stay in Midgar but figured there would be a boardinghouse that would take in a widow and her son. She was a good seamstress and hoped to rustle up work doing that. And Cloud was still growing but she was sure that he would be a good hard worker. Especially with her right there to oversee everything, she stressed.

Sephiroth inclined his head to show that he understand both her meanings, and she seemed satisfied. Sephiroth was still all too aware of the eyes that followed him back to the bar and again to tables as he delivered drinks to other customers. He came back to the bar to find Cloud waiting.

“I’m ready to start now,” Cloud said, but Sephiroth shook his head.

“Go get your ma settled in and come back in a couple days,” Sephiroth said firmly. That would give him some time to figure out what he was going to do with… what work he would have for Cloud.

Of course he was there waiting bright and early when Sephiroth got to the saloon the very next day. He sighed but didn’t say anything other than, “Did you find a place to stay?”

Cloud nodded eagerly. “Ma says thank you for telling her about Miz Gainsborough. She found us a place right behind the livery. It was vacant, and I love horses so I don’t mind helping out there too.”

“How are you going to manage doing so much work?” Sephiroth asked, bemused at his enthusiasm.

“I like to work. Been doin’ it all my life.”

Sephiroth was glad he had to turn to the door because otherwise he just knew he’d look shocked again. With a little shake, he settled himself and turned to Cloud. “Glad to hear it. Let’s start off with you sweeping.”

He had to admit, Cloud was right about being a worker. He did everything Sephiroth commanded without a peep of complaint. After a week of full-time work during the day, Sephiroth had never seen the saloon so clean. Cloud had even dragged in a rickety ladder and perilously cleaned to the very top of the high windows that Sephiroth had never bothered to.

Once the cleaning was done, Sephiroth tried to see how handy Cloud was at fixing some of the odd things around the property. Sephiroth had to show him how from time to time, but the kid was smart. When he was shown something once, he could usually remember for the next time and do it right.

But when everything that Sephiroth could think of was done, he didn’t know what to have Cloud do.

Luckily, or unluckily from his perspective, the rest of the town had gotten to know Cloud and most of them seemed to welcome him as much as Sephiroth did.

First Zack had bounced in the very first morning Cloud was working and all but tackled him in happiness. Sephiroth eventually chased him out, but Zack could never stay away for long and so was in bothering them regularly.

Of course, that meant that Angeal and Genesis found out right away as well. Sephiroth would have told them. Eventually. But Zack had blabbed and so his two oldest friends had come over just as soon as Angeal could close up shop for the day.

They stood at the bar appreciatively watching Cloud scrub the floor on his hands and knees.

“Zack was right,” Angeal admitted. “The kid is unbearably cute.”

Genesis sniffed. “Scrawny. Under-developed. I don’t see what you see in him, Sephiroth.” Then Cloud stood up, stretched and smiled shyly but brightly at them, and Genesis cleared his throat. “Well, he might grow into that ridiculous hair at least.”

Soon Sephiroth ran out of tasks and so begrudgingly let Zack take Cloud to Angeal, with the admonishment to Cloud to not let Zack push him around.

Cloud soon enjoyed helping the blacksmith Angeal. At first his duty mostly involved sitting on a barrel quietly out of the way while Angeal beat on the long, hard steel rods with his shirt off, all sweaty except for the leather apron.

But then Angeal let him help clean up the smithy and even eventually take a turn with the hammer. All the while, his assistant Zack tried to take the opportunity to talk about all the ways Cloud could become a potential outlaw better than his first foray into crime. He also offered hands-on lessons in fighting and wrestling.

Cloud had blushed beet red the first time Zack brought up his felony, but Angeal had just laughed long and hard at the thought of it. He told Cloud to ignore all of Zack’s crazy schemes, but if he ever wanted real lessons in fighting, to let Angeal be his teacher.

Then Zack would throw down what he was working on and attack Angeal who would wrestle and manhandle him back into submission while Cloud laughed and cheered. He did pick up quite a few pointers from them though.

Genesis even demanded use of Cloud for several afternoons to help him move things around the sheriff’s office. Genesis didn’t seem to do much, Cloud thought privately, but when the sheriff was out of town, Genesis did sit in the office reading and dealing with anyone who got drunk and needed thrown in the jail overnight.

The days went by quickly and happily for Cloud, for the first time in his life. His mother was making a go of things and fitting into the town as well.

Then one day Sephiroth was waiting when Cloud showed up at the saloon for his assignment. “We’re doing something different today,” Sephiroth told him and Cloud followed him to the livery. Sephiroth already had his horse and another waiting.

Cloud followed him willingly out of town to a creek bed in the distance, mostly dried up from the summer heat. Sephiroth dismounted and swung his rifle case off the horse. Cloud had an instant of nervousness, but Sephiroth beckoned him.

And then he taught him how to shoot. Cloud had shot varmints for dinner or rodent control, but he’d never had someone show him the right way to do things. When Sephiroth took two gleaming pistols out of another case, Cloud grew even more excited.

Sephiroth spent a long time showing him how to care for the firearms and even gave him a lecture on gun safety.

“Never, ever point a gun at someone or something that you don’t want to kill. Then you won’t ever have an accident. You should only be pointing it at something that you don’t mind killing.” Sephiroth rubbed his thumb over the shining barrel and Cloud thought he suddenly looked a hundred miles away. “And you shouldn’t ever kill, not if there’s any other possible way.”

Cloud nodded and gave Sephiroth a little smile when he finally looked over at him. “I only want to protect Ma. And my friends. And you.” Cloud said to the ground at his feet. He knew it was ridiculous as soon as he blurted it. As if he could ever do anything that Sephiroth couldn’t do ten times better.

But Sephiroth said softly, “Thank you, Cloud. Now, let’s work on your stance again.”

The days spent with Sephiroth whether in his saloon or out in the fields were among Cloud’s favorites. He loved helping Angeal and soaking up all the good natured teasing from the big man and Zack. He even enjoyed listening to Genesis who did almost all the talking when they were together.

He especially loved the evenings when they would all gather in the saloon. If there were no other or few customers, they would all become freer with each other.

Sometimes Genesis would read out of one of the old books he always kept tucked in his pocket. Cloud didn’t always understand the fancy words, but Genesis had beamed when Cloud said, “You sure do have a fine voice.”

“See Sephiroth, the boy has excellent taste,” Genesis preened and rubbed Cloud’s hair like Zack did. They both froze for a second when they realized but then Cloud grinned and Genesis gave him one last pat.

Sephiroth loaned him books too when Cloud shyly admitted he liked reading. Cloud read them aloud to his Ma while she sewed in the evenings. She liked hearing about his work and exploits with the men, and asked questions that Cloud didn’t always understand, especially about Shinra.

That was one topic he learned quickly never to mention. He’d innocently let the name slip one day in the saloon, and Sephiroth had actually dropped the glass he’d been washing. When Cloud brought it up later to Zack, he got a serious look on his face that Cloud had never seen before.

“They all worked for the company, me too. But now we’re here and we never talk about it. Ever,” Zack said, and Cloud respected that.

One night his ma asked him if any of the men was married or widowers. But Cloud only shook his head and said, “I never hear them mention any women. I know Angeal and Genesis live together, and Zack stays there a lot of the time too. And Sephiroth is at Miz Gainsborough’s boardinghouse. I guess they ain’t got time for women.”

His ma just looked at him for a long time before she went back to her sewing. “They always got time for you.”

Cloud shrugged. “I reckon I’m doing an all right job of working for them,” he said.

“Oh Cloudy,” she sighed but she didn’t say anything more.

Sometimes Cloud did privately think about the men and wonder why they were always together but never talked about women. He knew how men were, had heard the men of Nibelheim crudely talking and laughing in the little tavern when they’d had too much to drink.

And he knew what went on between a man and a woman. Ma had even sat him down and given him a stern talking to when they’d moved to Midgar all about the Honeybee Inn. She’d told him a little bit about what a brothel was and then made him vow he’d never go there because it wasn’t fair to the women. They were only doing what they could to survive, like any of them were, but Cloud didn’t have to be one of those who took advantage.

Cloud readily agreed. He was greatly curious about the Honeybee and kinda wanted to poke his head in someday, but he was too busy to think about girls.

Even that nice Aerith who was the daughter of his ma’s friend. Cloud could see she was real pretty, and she was very nice and fun, and he knew that Zack often walked out with her on long evenings while her ma sat on the front porch watching them. But Cloud didn’t feel anything more for her, or even for her friend Tifa who she brought over sometimes when he visited.

But Cloud could sit for hours at night just watching Sephiroth work at his saloon, giving him a hand doing whatever he needed. He’d finally worked up the courage to be able to talk to Sephiroth and not just to ask questions about work.

Sephiroth sometimes even smiled at him and said suggestive things that Cloud didn’t always fully understand. But that was only they were completely alone and only then occasionally. And when he did it, it made Cloud feel … funny. Like there was something itching under his skin.

He didn’t know what to do about it, but he knew that while he liked watching Angeal strip off his shirt at the forge and pour cool water all over himself, and he liked listening to Genesis read Shakespeare, he <i>loved</i> just sitting in the saloon at any time of day being near Sephiroth. Every little smile, every little laugh he could get out of him made Cloud feel like he’d achieved a great success.

Then the day he’d been dreading arrived when he least expected it. He met Sephiroth at the saloon with an easy smile but Sephiroth indicated the horses tied in front.

Cloud brightened even more. “We going shooting today?”

“Yes,” Sephiroth said as he mounted. Cloud’s riding had improved as well, and he could ride beside Sephiroth now without any trouble. Sephiroth even let their horses free to run a little bit, and Cloud whooped at the feeling of the horse galloping away with him.

Sephiroth led him to a quiet place in the foothills that Cloud hadn’t been to before. The trees were thicker there and green, and the river made a little pond that was shaded. Cloud looked forward to going for a swim in the cool water, if Sephiroth allowed it.

He offered to unpack the guns, but Sephiroth shook his head and offered a large pack instead. He led Cloud under the trees and spread out a blanket then set the pack down and opened it. Cloud gaped at the spread of food that Sephiroth provided.

“Wow! Are you that hungry?”

Sephiroth sat down on the blanket and fussed with opening more of the packets of food. “I thought you deserved a day off from work. And you’re a growing boy. You’re always hungry.”

Cloud remained standing and crossed his arms over his chest. “I ain’t always hungry. That’s Zack. And,” his voice went a little quieter as he admitted, “I don’t reckon I’m growing anymore. Ma said I’m 18 now and my pa was a little shorter than me so this is it.”

Cloud wanted to wrap his arms more tightly around himself at the way Sephiroth was looking at him now. “You’re stronger, though,” Sephiroth said quietly. “You’ve gotten broader, put on more muscle.”

Now Cloud willed himself not to blush like he always did when Sephiroth complimented him. He dropped to the blanket when Sephiroth gestured.

They ate in silence for a while until Sephiroth cleared his throat meaningfully.

“You know, Cloud, your bill to me and the general store was paid off quite a while ago. You’re working now for credit. I have the cash for you, from me and Angeal and Genesis,” he said quietly.

Cloud looked up anxiously and felt his stomach drop. Was this it? Was Sephiroth going to make him quit working? Was he going to say he never wanted to see Cloud again? Was Cloud going to have to uproot his ma and make her move just to get away from Sephiroth now that he didn’t want Cloud around?

Sephiroth was saying, “If you want to get another job, we’ll understand. I will understand. But...” Now Sephiroth was fidgeting a little and Cloud had no idea what that meant. “If you want to, I would really like it if you still worked for me. I like having you around.”

The last few words were practically whispered, but Cloud heard, even over the racing beat of his heart in his ears.

“I like having you around too,” he blurted out, and Sephiroth finally looked up at him. “I like you,” Cloud heard himself continue.

Sephiroth smiled at him then, and Cloud’s heart skipped a beat. “I like you, too, Cloud. Ever since you robbed me at gunpoint and threatened my virtue.”

Cloud groaned and hid his face in his hands. He felt Sephiroth’s long fingers start to pry them away. “The only reason I say such things is to make you blush. You are unaccountably adorable when you blush.”

Cloud dropped his hands only because his face felt like it was on fire, but Sephiroth was still holding them. “Cloud, I...feel things for you. Things that I haven’t felt in a very long time.”

“I feel things for you too,” Cloud admitted, now lost in the pale green of Sephiroth’s eyes. “I like being with you more than anything else in the world.”

Sephiroth leaned closer, and Cloud shut his eyes at the smooth feeling of his hair brushing Cloud’s hot cheek. “I would like to kiss you,” Sephiroth whispered.

“Okay,” Cloud agreed before he could think and then Sephiroth’s lips were on his, warm and firm, pressing to Cloud’s lips tenderly. When he pulled back, Cloud let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He opened his eyes to find Sephiroth hadn’t moved. “Do that again,” Cloud ordered, and Sephiroth happily obeyed.

When Cloud got home that day, suspiciously giggly and pink from more than the sun, Miz Strife told him to bring Sephiroth the next night for dinner. She questioned Sephiroth more than any interrogator could have and spelled out exactly what she would do if he ever hurt her baby. After he had vowed to only take care of and cherish Cloud, she relented and gave them her blessing.

And so they lived happily ever after.

Until the day some Turks rode into town.

The end. For real this time.

[thefaeriereview]

Tour: Road to Delano

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Welcome to the blog tour for historical fiction, The Road to Delano by John DeSimone!

The Road to Delano

Publication Date: March 10, 2020

Genre: Historical Fiction/ Coming of Age

Publisher: Rare Bird Books

Jack Duncan is a high school senior whose dream is to play baseball in college and beyond―as far away from Delano as possible. He longs to escape the political turmoil surrounding the labor struggles of the striking fieldworkers that infests his small ag town. Ever since his father, a grape grower, died under suspicious circumstances ten years earlier, he’s had to be the sole emotional support of his mother, who has kept secrets from him about his father’s involvement in the ongoing labor strife. With their property on the verge of a tax sale, Jack drives an old combine into town to sell it so he and his mother don’t become homeless. On the road, an old friend of his father’s shows up and hands him the police report indicating Jack’s father was murdered. Jack is compelled to dig deep to discover the entire truth, which throws him into the heart of the corruption endemic in the Central Valley. Everything he has dreamed of is at stake if he can’t control his impulse for revenge. While Jack’s girlfriend, the intelligent and articulate Ella, warns him not to so anything to jeopardize their plans of moving to L.A., after graduation, Jack turns to his best friend, Adrian, a star player on the team, to help to save his mother’s land. When Jack’s efforts to rescue a stolen piece of farm equipment leaves Adrian―the son of a boycotting fieldworker who works closely with Cesar Chavez―in a catastrophic situation, Jack must bail his friend out of his dilemma before it ruins his future prospects. Jack uses his wits, his acumen at card playing, and his boldness to raise the money to spring his friend, who has been transformed by his jail experience. The Road to Delano is the path Jack, Ella, and Adrian must take to find their strength, their duty, their destiny.

“This whole story is an absolute triumph!” ―Thehauntedfae Book Blog

“The Road to Delano is a compelling story that will leave readers thinking about its surprise ending long after the final confrontation comes to a head.” ―California Bookwatch

“Five Stars. Outstanding writing, fast-paced. A must-read for people who love history AND baseball.” ―ReedsyDiscovery

“I really enjoyed this story. It’s more than a little Steinbeck, in a very good way…” —Leigh Anne, Book Sirens

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Ash Wednesday

Monday at lunch, Jack and Ella settled on the grassy school quad. The morning haze, a gray dullness, hung over them. Ella in a long skirt and T-shirt printed with her favorite saying played her guitar. Jack ate slowly, as Ella gently strummed a Joan Baez song. She let the last chord vibrate in the air. “You look far away today, Jack.” “Just thinking.” “Worried about the big game?” She strummed a C chord. “Not really. I’m ready for those guys.” As crucial as the Arvin game was to his chances for a scholarship, his head spun with Herm, the sheriff, and lost combine. He needed to set all that aside. But how? “You’re worried about losing that combine, aren’t you?” He shrugged and glanced off into the haze. Herm’s beat-up face filled him with too many questions, ones he would rather not ask. “What do you think happened to it?” Jack did his best to suppress a frown. He spent the next twenty minutes explaining how Sheriff Grant found Herm Gordon face down in the mud and how their combine had gone missing. Short of stealing someone else’s machine and selling it to pay the taxes, he didn’t have too many ideas about what he could do to save his mom’s place. “Jack, you have to protest. Write to the newspaper. Make noise until the sheriff finds your combine. Someone knew you needed that money to save your property.” Ella’s sense of urgency hovered over her, an impending sense of doom that required her to stand up and shout to drive it away. She had been this way since he first met her, always ready to protest. Vietnam had taken up most of her attention. But it was their trip to Berkeley a couple of years ago that had set her on fire, and had almost got Jack arrested in front of Sproul Hall. Two years ago, their sophomore debate team had joined the junior and senior team on a field trip to UC Berkeley to observe a statewide competition. They left Delano before dawn and talked for the entire four-hour bus ride. That was something he had never done with any girl. They sat across from each other, an aisle between them. Her darting green eyes held his interest. Life shot out of them, beautiful and intelligent in the same instant. They debated the war in Vietnam, who killed JFK, the likelihood of a gunman on the grassy knoll, the Selma march, the Freedom Riders, Malcolm X, the Black Panthers—she had an opinion on everything. Mostly, she made sense. The girl’s intensity at times unsettled him, but it mostly intrigued him. During the debate competition in a Berkeley auditorium, shortly after the lunch break, Ella leaned into him in the dark. “Meet me outside on the steps in a few minutes.” Without waiting for an answer, she rose and disappeared. Jack stewed in his seat, trying to figure out what she was up to. He wouldn’t miss much if he left. Besides, her sense of adventure piqued him. A few minutes later, he found her outside the glass doors on the steps. In the breeze, her brown hair, straight and long, riffled across her mischievous smile. “There’s an FSM rally on the other side of the campus. Go with me. We’ll be back in plenty of time.” “A what?” he asked. “You know, the Free Speech Movement. Please, go with me,” she pleaded with her green eyes. “Mario Savio is going to speak.” From the way she threw out his name, he was someone Jack should know. He had never heard of the Free Speech Movement, or Savio, whoever he was. Jack glanced back to the doors. “They’ll be in there for hours.” She took his hand. He marveled at her warm grasp. He liked it. They made their way through a maze of buildings. She must have had this all planned out. She led him directly to a large plaza packed with students milling about. Some sat, most stood talking and smoking, and clouds of strange smelling smoke wafted over the crowd. A line of cops stood on the fringes of the crowd. They fidgeted with their batons. The two of them were so far back, they could hardly make out what the speaker was saying. Ella pushed her way toward the front, and Jack held on. Had she done this before? She stopped when they were about twenty feet from the speaker, who read a list of students who were being expelled. People were booing. A new speaker came to the microphone, a tall wiry-haired student in a white shirt and sheepskin-lined jacket. Electricity seemed to shoot right out of his hair. The crowd around Jack murmured, likely wondering what this guy was going to say. Ella squeezed his hand tighter. He didn’t dare let go of her, afraid they’d get separated in the jostling crowd. The crowd hushed when the man with the electric hair started to speak. He had a machine-gun delivery. His message burst from him with so much energy the entire crowd leaned in for more. His lips moved like waves, every word coated with fire. I ask you to consider if this university is a firm…we’re the raw materials. And we don’t mean to be made into any product…to be bought by anyone. We’re human beings! The crowd applauded, and Ella loosed her hand to clap and shout. There’s a time the operation of the machine becomes so odious… you can’t take part. You’ve got to put your bodies upon the gears…upon the levers… and you’ve got to make it stop.…Unless you’re free, the machine won’t be prevented from working. The crowd broke into more applause. Kids were yelling their agreement. Jack wasn’t clear what machine the guy was talking about, or what freedom he didn’t have, and what gears needed to be stopped. Then the speaker introduced Joan Baez, and the crowd went crazy with chatter and clapping. She started singing a Bob Dylan song, and a hush fell over everyone. How many times can a man turn his head And pretend that he doesn’t see? The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind… Ella hopped up and down on the balls of her feet. Baez started up another song, “We shall overcome…,” and everyone joined in, the crowd swayed with the words. Something great, something powerful was about to break open here. He took Ella’s hand, and she gave him a complicit smile. She held him tight as if she feared she would float away in the euphoria of the moment. When the song ended, she pulsed forward. Jack dared not let her go as they slipped between applauding students who hovered around the famous singer. Ella ascended right up to the great Joan Baez, her long black hair draped over her shoulders, her guitar slung over her neck. Ella tried to talk calmly, but she only stammered. “Did you want an autograph, honey?” Ella had a confused look as if the question she wanted to ask had slipped away. “Do you go to school here?” Ella shook her head. “Delano High School.” “Look,” Baez pointed over Ella’s shoulder. “You guys got to get out of here. There’s going to be trouble.” At the far end of the crowd, cops were forcing students to move. Cop cars with lights flashing swarmed into the quad forcing students toward them. Panicked voices, screams, and shouting rose in the quad. Police vans rolled into the quad, lights flashing, the short squawks of their sirens stirred up the crowd.

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About the Author John DeSimone is a novelist, memoirist, and editor. He’s co-authored bestselling The Broken Circle: A memoir of escaping Afghanistan, and others. He taught writing as an adjunct professor at Biola University and has worked as a freelance editor and writer for nearly twenty years. His current release, a historical novel, The Road to Delano, is a coming of age novel set during the Delano grape strike led by Cesar Chavez. BookSirens said, “It’s more than a little Steinbeck, in a good way….” He lives in Claremont, Ca, and can be found on Goodreads and at www.johndesimone.com 

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