There's Something In the Closet

Saturday, January 21, 2006

 

*Whispers of the Dead* (pt 1)

Unlike the others picking their way gingerly through the carnage, Ko had no desire to avoid touching, looking at the dead. Familiar faces gazed blindly upwards. Bodies lay twisted at unnatural angles, many half crushed into the churned mud and muck of the battle field. Too many dead, and even more injured. Their enemies had struck a fearful blow before being driven back over the hill.

The bodies of a mother and daughter caught his eye. He had known them only vaguely, not of his clan, but tied to it by a marriage. Both wore the crest and trappings of archers. They had fought and fallen within feet of each other. Ko reached down to close the younger woman’s eyes. There were some emotions that even his infamous dispassion could not deflect. With a sense of profound loss, he added two more names to the growing list of those who would never live to see the end of the march. Sometimes it seemed all he could do, counting the dead, hoping to find some survivors yet. The younger warriors could look after the remains of the procession as limped its painful way along their road. The grim work of tallying the corpses and salvaging weapons and armor where possible, was left to those who had stomach for it. There was no time to bury or burn their fallen family, they would suffer the indignity of being pecked clean by the ever-present flocks of crows.

“The wolves report that the Horde is to the west of us and closing fast. A week at the most, and they’ll have mown down any resistance the locals can muster and sweep us right into the sea.” Not bothering to announce himself, Seh had silently intercepted his meandering path among the dead. The warlord paused to remove his helmet and mask, looking particularly grim as he wiped a trickle of blood from his face.

“There’s hope that the current band of savages will notice the new attack before its too late and break away from us to defend their flank.”

“Not until tomorrow at the least.” Ko turned to view the progress of their retreat and of the last of the searchers on either side of the river. The small valley was saturated in the stench of blood and death.

For every one of his own tribe, at least two of the fae lay dead, but given their relative numbers, Ko was obliged to count his own losses as more precious. Already diminished by their previous wars, there was a debate among the elders as to whether their population could survive many further reductions. How ironic, he thought, that they might yet be destroyed, not by their enemies, but by a simple lack of people to carry on their race. It was a pressing problem, but one that would be moot if they could not even survive long enough to reach the mountains before the human armies arrived.

Suddenly feeling his age, Ko claimed a seat on the sad but comfortable bulk of a dead horse’s shoulder. He gently shifted its deceased rider’s leg and shield so that he wouldn’t jar him by accident. “I have no doubt our persistent neighbors will readily get a second strike in at our flank before the news reaches them.”

“Even if we don’t stop for the night, we’ll be in a bad way.” His warlord agreed, preferring to crouch on his own heels than to share his superior’s morbid perch. Seh had known him a long time now. Long enough that at times they didn’t even need to speak to be in perfect accord. Wholesale slaughter made the man uncomfortable however. Ko watched him try and work past it as he focused on his words. “There are many among the wounded who probably won’t survive. We’ve lost most of the experienced scouts. The peaceful clans are starting to realize that we, their shield, are broken. They are afraid, and asking for your council. They demand that we slow our pace, try and save as many as we can.”

“We have no time for councils, or for rest. If we pause, the Horde will definitely catch us up in their chaos, just as they are with the other fae kingdoms.” Ko mused aloud. “Our hope has always been that we can reach the mountain passes. Once we are within the borders of the hills, the shamans can pull the rocks down to block our enemies. It is these plains and valleys that make us vulnerable.”

“Open combat is a death sentence.” Seh kicked raked his fingers through the churned soil, and raised them up to reveal a delicate necklace caught up in a clod of dirt. “I can’t abide by this, lord. It makes me sick to leave them here like this. Those animals will be on them like jackals come morning, they’ll steal anything that catches their eye. They will further insult those who have died.”

“Like ravens, they’ll take the trinkets first, and come back for the hair and bones after.” Holding out his little treasure, the officer passed it to his commander. “It isn’t right. If only we could bury them.”

“If only they were fewer. If only we had the time.” Cupping the necklace in his palm, Ko studied the ornament, finding it familiar. He pondered whether the sense of recognition was because he had seen the token worn before, or if he had simply known the craftsman. It wouldn’t have surprised him to learn that both the wearer and the maker were both dead at this point. With their city in ruins, and their people consigned to exodus once again, death was inevitable. “‘If only’ is a luxury that we do not have, old friend. Not this time.”

Opening his mouth to attempt to argue, the rugged officer caught himself and looked away. The horizon provided him with a distraction from his fury. Keen eyes picked out two new figures make their way down the hillside, walking against the general flow of people. Seh smiled slightly in recognition of two dear faces. “Aube is returning. Your daughter is with her.”

Standing slowly, Ko dusted off his jacket as his warlord watched. They exchanged a look that was almost funny before he shrugged. “She wouldn’t approve.”

“I really don’t think the horse cares at this point.”

“Indeed. It has doubtless gone on to better things by now.” Offering a flicker of a smile to his long suffering officer, Ko let the dark humor buoy the man’s spirits. It wasn’t much, but Seh was resilient by nature. He would find a way to regain his equilibrium, even after a day as bad as this. He would have to. Ko had plans that required the man performing at his best.

Aube picked her way deftly through the fallen, somber but not crushed by the grim surroundings. Her armor was painted in pale blue wherever clan colors did not preside. Silk scarves still twined around her neck and down her sleeves. She looked as though she belonged in a tourney rather than walking the horrors of a battlefield. Even the mud seemed to recognize her supremacy, and only clung to her in places. Her serenity was a shield rather alike his own, Ko knew. It allowed her a hair’s breath of emotional distance, letting her complete her tasks without being overwhelmed by the filth and stench of it all. Bowing in her supple way, she folded her hands together and waited to be recognized.

Dida trailed after her, movements clumsy with exhaustion and shock. The child had seen battle before, he had made certain of that, but something of this magnitude was beyond any lesson he could have contrived for her. Some things had to be learned by living them. He studied her face as she drew closer, curious to see what her reaction was.

“Father?” His heir’s voice cracked slightly on the greeting. Normally he would have scolded her on the familiar term, but something about the wildness in her eyes, and the sudden stillness of Aube’s expression made him hold his tongue. Now was not the time for reserve, there would be chances later to remind her of custom, when the child was less fragile.

“Are you unharmed?” Was the only thing he could think to ask the girl.

“I’m fine, sir.” It was reassuring how quickly Dida straightened up and regained composure simply by hearing the question. She didn’t want to be coddled anymore than he was interested in coddling her. If the girl didn’t need further encouragement he could focus on more pressing matters.

“The retreat?” He directed the question at both of them, but mostly to Aube.

The warlady bowed again, eyes warming slightly as she noted his tact, “Continues as best it can, my lord. The sortie naturally slowed us down somewhat.”

“How long before we reach the foothills?” Ko eyed the rolling edge of the mountain chain. Blue grey forests grew thicker as the trail climbed, giving way to series of sheer escarpments and then snow covered peaks. They seemed close enough to touch, but the distance was deceptive.

“At least two full days, with minimal rest. Better to be four, with time in camp to tend the wounded. The healers are up in arms, as is…”

“Provided of course that another skirmish doesn’t bring our progress to a halt again.” He finished the thought for her. “And an even more blood thirsty enemy is destined to fall on our backs within a seven-day. How ironic.”

Seh raised an eyebrow at the declaration. Ko shrugged. “That we are out of time. We who are immortal, and usually care nothing for it, suddenly find ourselves desperately measuring the stuff out in days and hours.”

“Some could stay behind.” Aube suggested softly. “Buy time for the others to clear the passes.”

Ko shook his head. “We are too few. It would be a futile gesture.”

“We must do _something_.” She pleaded. Seh reached out to catch her arm in support but was shaken off.

“Is there no hope?” Dida spoke at last. Her voice and eyes gave away the youth she had so recently dispensed with. She was a warrior, born and bred, but not yet a hardened one. The idea of self-destruction, for any cause, still held horror for her. Looking at her, Ko found that the plan he had been deliberately not-thinking of, suddenly became more concrete.

It was true what his grandfather had once said. A man could do terrible things for love. Even a man whose love was as burned-out and hollow as his, could be inspired to perform any manner of atrocity to protect what fragments remained to him. He looked out across the field of corpses, morishi and fey alike, and forced the blackness deep, willing it not to be seen.

Dida was too much of a child still, to read his looks. But Aube had known him a long time, her husband even longer. He didn’t look towards them until he was certain nothing would show in his eyes.

“Commander Seh, you are to rally the remaining scouts, concentrate on a forward and western perimeter. I don’t want us blindly stumbling into another ambush, or other unexpected unpleasantness. Aube, Dida, you will go to the council of lords in my place, tell them that we must proceed with all haste, but after tonight do not march through the night as well as the day. The wounded that survive this initial push must be given time to rest.”

“But-” His child was as quick as ever on her rebuttal.

He waved her question aside. “I will tend to a few things here. And make sure that we have the time we need.”

Ko knew Aube was staring at him oddly, but refused to let her catch his eye. “I may be a few days. Do not back track to look for me. If I do not rejoin you within the week it may be safely assumed that I have died for the cause.”

“A futile gesture?” The warlady challenged him with his own words. “You are the best we have, lord. Even in the mountains, without you our long-term chances of survival are bleak indeed.”

“You need not fear that I will forget that.” He smiled without emotion. “I have no intention of challenging entire armies alone.”

“What do you intend?”

“That is not your concern.” Ko flicked fingers in the direction they were to go. “You have your orders. Do not dawdle. And do _not_ come back. I will come to you when I am done.”

His commanders were suspicious, there was no avoiding that. But they were good subordinates, and did what they were told. Rejoining the long procession of evacuees, they soon disappeared to the head of the line, dispersed to their duties. Even with the entire population of the city, the tail end of the crowd trudged by, depleted rear guard last of all. Ko resumed his seat. The search for survivors was over. The field around him was still save for the cackling and flapping of the scavengers.

The sun was sinking fast as he resumed his seat on the dead mount. The animal beneath him stiffened slowly as the last of the primal life force drained from its body. Shadows cast by the sunset played weird tricks on the eyes as they bent over and around the remains of fallen. Members of every clan and class lay as equals. The night breezes carried the whispers of their voices.

Most mortal things born into the world had a certain expectation that they would depart it sooner than later. Among the fey races however, life was more of a persistent habit. Death when it came usually contained an element of shock, denial even. Sometimes it took a while for the spirit of a slain fey to come to terms with its new state of being. Until then their energy remained. Emotion, even awareness, and an unsettled sense of injustice hung in the vibrant air as the sky’s colors shifted and cooled.

To most people, the aura of the recently murdered was alarming. Morishi were not killers by in large, the clans that could and did kill were considered somehow lesser in times of peace. It was only during the wars, and when the borders were at risk, that the archers, rangers, and pikesmen were exalted. Much of Ko’s untouchable position at court was due to the three centuries of wars he had carefully shielded his city from. Certainly, he conceded, he knew more than his fare share about death. Perhaps he knew more about it than any other Morishi alive. The process of death, both for beasts, and his own race, held no fear for him anymore, if it ever did. He didn’t need a summoner to tell him that the spirits newly deceased around him were restless and unhappy.

There were entire rituals created to deal with such things. Known to the house of summoners, the house of history, the house of healers, they existed for no other purpose than to soothe the dead to sleep, to ease their passage into the floating world that all spirits must pass through on their last journey. Far less known, perhaps deliberately forgotten, was a darker sort of magic.

Ko drew a breath and began to speak to the dead. “Yaashi mai jural… beekkete.”

He called to them in the high speech of the Garden, using spells that he was certain only one or two others in the whole of his people remembered, and would never dare use. Ko called to the corpses in the valley in a language they could not ignore. Violating several oaths of his training, and a personal promise to his own grandfather to goad and incite a horror to life.

The crows’ cackles changed from pleased to alarmed as their perches shifted and groaned. A cloud of the birds rose into the air, circling warily before settling in the trees, chortling in displeasure.

The stiffening mud could provide only weak opposition to those with strong will and lifeless stamina. Slowly, painfully, an army pulled itself upright from the battlefield. Clawing to their feet amongs the boulders along the river bed, prying them selves free of the shattered trees and beasts, and dead enemies, the army came back to life. Moaning breathlessly with angry sorrow, and stiff from a day of immobility, his clansmen gained their feet. Their eyes no longer reflected the weak moonlight. Gone was any hint of a healthy golden glow. For many, their real eyes were already missing, claimed by the cruel beaks of the carrion eaters. Dim glimmers of red burned in the empty spaces, Ko couldn’t help but shudder as many pairs of the unearthly pupils turned to look at him.

The worst of it all was that they were still hauntingly familiar, despite their often maimed or crushed appearance. Their recent battle had not been kind to them, and the ravens even worse. With steps that shuffled at first and then slowly became more fluid, they drifted across the field to form a loose circle around him. One had found a banner somewhere and it served as a loose rallying point. His kin stood with definite purpose, forming ranks in almost-organized lines despite their deceased status. The representatives from other clans seemed less certain, but all who could stand responded to his call.

“Forgive me.” He murmured to his silent audience. “It is a terrible perversion I have wrought upon you. Even worse, I commit this offence knowing full well that you have already given your lives in this fight.”

Gathering closer, his audience groaned softly in agreement. Tattered and exhausted, their sadness nearly overwhelmed. Ko bowed his head and spoke from the heart.

“But for the sake of those that survive you, I must ask you to face down your enemies a second time. You are all we have between us, and the rising tide of darkness.”

// You put your soul in peril, lord. Performing these rites. This is not our way. //

No breath stirred in the sizeable army. The dead could not speak aloud as they used to. To communicate at all required great force of will. Ko studied the ranks for his accuser, and found him quickly enough. A master summoner, of course, he recognized the man easily despite the fact that his face was now half-shattered. Fuu Roga was assistant clan chief to his family cousin to the current chief and of the same age as his own father would have been, if he had lived. While they had never been precisely close, Ko felt a pang of regret to see the man dead now. There were so few left from his father’s and grandfather’s generation, that every death meant that untold knowledge was now lost, perhaps forever.

Fuu Roga was more than skilled enough to cheat death, even without his help. His aura was almost as crisp and strong as it had been when he was alive. Perhaps the elder even knew the very cantos Ko had used to pull him back into his body. He bowed to the man’s corpse. “I know I put your souls in peril. I violate the natural order. I risk dissolution and exile. But I have little concern what happens to me, when all is said and done. And it is my desperate hope that I can return you all to the earth before this unlife can tempt you too badly. I swear I shall not leave you to wander the earth alone and suffering. One way or another I will undo this evil before it can spread.”

// You have always been a man of honor, warlord. And after all, what’s done is done. //

Only one eye remained in Fuu Roga’s face, but it seemed to look on him with pity. Other summoners among the dead slowly filtered through the crowd, gaining confidence from standing with their former lord. Another battered banner was lifted into the weak moonlight, representing his clan.

The corpse of a woman slowly limped forward to stand at the front of another contingent. One of her braids was shorn off below her chin, several arrows protruded from her breastplate and arm. Blood painted her face from the work of the crows. Despite her many handicaps she gestured imperiously.

// My horses are dead. Our four-legged children that fought with us are no more. But we will fight on, if you will lead us. We will exact our revenge. //

// Our bows are broken. But we stand ready. //

Ko turned from one horror to another. The commander from the clan of herds had been a passing acquaintance, but the senior most of the dead archers had been his friend for many years.

“Nan Pa. I wish it had not come to this.”

The corpse mimed laughter, an alarming sight to see.

// So do I, Ko. That much is certain. What will my poor wife do, when she realizes I am dead? //

Hanging his head, Nan Pa lifted a ruined hand to hide his face.

// She probably already knows. So many things left unsaid! //

// I would go to her and say them, but like this? It would be unbearable for her. Better that she never know. Better that no one ever know that we returned, even if only for an hour. Lead us to the enemy, old friend, so that we may do what you have called us here to do. //

“I will see to it that each of you is buried with honor.” Ko bowed low. “Come, we have little time before dawn catches us. Your prey is encamped on the other side of the hill, doubtless planning a second attack once the sun is over the mountains.”

lunar 8:40 PM

Sunday, September 18, 2005

 

zack snippet!

A sort of bipolar "in the laboratory" ficbit, which actually works pretty well.

Playing for Favors

lunar 7:31 AM

Saturday, August 20, 2005

 

Breaking the News
*****

“You don’t deserve her.” Lord Ko’s faint smile did nothing to diminish the raw strength of his words. Miwoi fought the urge to flinch. Locking his eyes resolutely with the legendary warrior to keep from bolting from the censure, he found strangely that he could draw strength from the old man’s obstinacy.

“Neither do you.” Miwoi was pleased to be able to match his future father-in-law’s gentle determination. His hands might grip his knees treacherously, but the rest of him dared, and dared gladly.


// Third time is the charm, they say. God knows I’m over due for him to beat me bloody. I’ve called him out to his face often enough. //

For Dida’s sake he would willingly conquer mountains, battle demons, face down a fathers wrath. Face-to-face with the older lord he refused to blink, and so was awarded an almost unheard of thing. Dida’s father flinched.

Blinking in sudden surprise, the momentary pulse of pain, fury, denial, and finaly acceptance flashed in the molten gold of his eyes. Miwoi held his breath as the ageless soldier blinked a second time. Tilting his head slightly away, Ko broke off their contest of wills to glance at his patiently waiting daughter. Dida was as still as stone, glaring at her sire with an odd combination of resolve and worry. As he observed the two read each other’s hearts in the passing of a moment Miwoi suddenly could feel the bonds between two twisting and contesting as if they were a physical thing in the room with him, his heart ached with the silent look they exchanged. The desire to be a daughter warred with the desire to be a wife in the perfection of her face.

Dida’s lips quirked, she offered one of her expressive frowns.

Her father raised an eyebrow.

She nodded once and it was settled. “He is the one I choose. He will make me happy.”

Defeated, Lord Ko dipped his head to her will. “Even so, he does not deserve you, child. I have long believed that likely no man does.” Exhaling a soft breath, he drew a new one, and looked up to meet his daughter’s worried gaze with one filled with subtle humor. “But who am I to intervene? If my warlady wishes to take to husband a gentle poet, I will not stand against it.”

“That is not what I wish you to say.” Her frown deepened. “Are you for or against this match? Answer plainly.”

Miwoi could only look on in stunned confusion as the revered and most legendary lord offered him an amused side-glance. The nobleman almost seemed to be saying, ‘Are you sure you know what you’re in for?’ in the flicker of an eye. Before he had a chance to react to the remarkable gesture, the moment was gone. Lord Ko sighed patiently for his daughter’s sake. “What would you have me say, child?”

“I want you to say that you accept my decision!” Dida banged her fist against her thigh. “I want you to acknowledge him as he deserves. He is not without merit, or without hard won prestige. Even in this very house!”

The old warrior’s smile widened a degree from merely polite to almost-amused. For a second Miwoi could swear he saw the man itching to deny Dida’s demand, just to rile her further. Luckily for her temper, her father chose a more oblique attack. “I am more than aware of your swain’s achievements.”

“So?” She folded her arms, seeming composed only to those who didn’t know her. “What say you?”

“You may marry whom ever you wish, child.” Ko reclaimed his pipe, settling it in the corner of his mouth as if the matter was closed. Dida ruffled visibly with his broad answer, opening her mouth to protest again. He out maneuvered her with elegance that bespoke of centuries of strategy. “Given the general worthlessness of the others who have begged me for your hand, I’d hardly say you could do any worse than this one. For what it’s worth, I accept your decision.”

“Oh!” She huffed, sitting back in sudden surprise. Miwoi stifled a laugh behind his hand, seeing once again how alike father and daughter were. Their verbal fencing was a far cry more unsettling than the sedate conversations of hisown family, but they were far more entertaining because of it.

Lord Ko looked archly down on his child, enjoying his victory. “Happy?”

“Y-Yes.” It took his daughter two tries to get the word out around her shock.

Having expected a far more prolonged battle himself, Miwoi could only bow his head humbly. “I thank you, dread lord.”

“Very well.” The elder stood majestically, looking down on them both and then out beyond their secluded porch to where the night moths danced. “This being the case, I feel as though I shall go to bed. I trust any further shocking discussions can wait until morning?”

“Yes sir.” Dida stared at her hands as she twisted them together.

“It will be the solstice in a little less than two weeks.” Her father commented lightly as he stepped over a cushion and made for the door. Pausing at the exit he turned to consider them both, “It would be a propitious time to announce the engagement to the general assembly? You will of course tell the clan tomorrow.”

Given that Dida was too stunned to answer, Miwoi bowed again, accepting the offer for both of them. He wasn’t quite brave enough, however, to reach out for a hand to cling to until after the warrior had disappeared into the inner hallway. His soon-to-be-wife’s fingers were no steadier than his own, he found as he caught hold of her outstretched hand. A tug had them falling against each other, half-laughing half-shaking as they embraced. Miwoi still found it novel that he could wrap his arms around his friend, lover, wife, and have it joyfully recriprocated. Playfully he whispered, “One down, only a couple-of-thousand more to go?”

“If any of them complain, I’ll beat them bloody.”

Kissing her cheek he laughed aloud. “And if your father had?”

“I’d have beaten him bloody too.” She returned his gift to him full on the lips with added energy.

lunar 9:30 PM

Tuesday, August 09, 2005

 

*lucky devil*

A mudslide was one of those freak events that would only dare happen to him in Wutai, Sephiroth decided. Spared being swept several meters downhill by his quick reflexes and a conveniently placed boulder, he was one of few who weren't blanketed by the flow. The general leaned over and snagged his aide as the man was sucked past his makeshift outpost, and then did the same for another trooper in convenient reach. The jeep the man had been driving wasn't so lucky, and smashed into a tree thirty feet later. Squeezing the mud from his hair, Zack could only whistle appreciatively at the sloppy mess that was oozing to a halt all around them. He studied the stability of the hill where the slip had started and then reached for his radio.

"All sections, report in as soon as you dig out your radios! Assist fellow troopers in need! Emergency reports on band two!" As soon as he let go of the button, his little device began crackling with requests for aid and section leaders moving to regroup. Sephiroth prodded the mud with the tip of his blade, not liking the ease with which it dipped into the muck.

"Man, what I wouldn't give for a pair of snowshoes." The southerner laughed at the irony of wanting the winter accessory in the middle of the jungle. "Ah well, not like I can get any worse, eh?" Sephiroth merely made a face as Zack stripped off non-essential gear and voluntairly waded back into the mess.

"General if you'll keep a count? I'm going to go lend a hand to the poor bastards trapped in the cargo container."

"How long before this-" Sephiroth gestured at the general soup, "Hardens up into something tollerable?"

"Hopefully not for days." Zack blandly opined. "Otherwise we'll never dig out half of what's been burried."

Super strength meant that when he pushed through the muck he was able to propel himself foward in one foot increments rather than in inches. It still appeared to be extremely slow going. The Soldier hadn't gone more than five feet however before he tripped and near sunk himself in the jungle debris.

Cursing, Zack freed his arm from the mud and then nudged whatever it was underfoot with a thoughtful expression. Sephiroth watched as perplexed, the man dared to stoop over, delving into the mire to pull out a muddy blob about the shape of a small bag. His friend turned with effort and just as slowly slogged his way back to the boulder to plant his finding up where it was dry.

"What is it?" The general grimly wondered as he kept half an ear on the reports flowing from his radio.

Zack grinned as he wiped fistfulls of dirt and leaves off of his find. Amazingly, the mud-ball revealed itself to be an undamaged six-pack of beer. Somehow the bounty must have been swept out of someone's tent in the deluge. "Nice!"

Sephiroth could only shake his head in disbelief. "You have the devil's luck, Thompson."

"Don't I know it." Laughing with the probability of it, his aide turned back to the messy buisness of digging out, his spoils left safely behind on the rock for later.

*****

lunar 7:10 PM

Sunday, August 07, 2005

 

Movie Night
*****

Sephiroth picked up his phone absently as he paused mid-research. It was after hours, so whoever it was interrupting his quiet evening’s reading either knew he would be in the office, and available to deal with an emergency, or else was just a wrong number.

“Extension 8329.” He answered with his customary bored tone and waited for the caller to introduce themselves.

“Ha! I knew I’d catch you at your desk. It’s me.” A cheerful voice launched into conversation without preamble. “Hey, I’ve got a really important question for you!”

There was no need for introductions, Sephiroth sighed. Only one man dared be familiar enough to get away with something as rhetorical as ‘it’s me’. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he wondered if he ought to hang up on the man. From the sound of it Zack was calling him on his cell phone, so terminating the call would only necessitate the soldier calling him back a second time. Dreams of leaving his phone off the hook danced through his head a moment before he vetoed them in favor of a more mature response.

“What to you want, Zack? Have you been drinking?”

“No.” Playfully aggrieved, his aide huffed into his phone. “What crawled into your coffee cup and died. It’s Friday night. You have no right to be in a bad mood.”

“You’re interrupting.” Sephiroth murmured. “I’d like to get back to my work, so what do you want.”

The southerner sighed audibly into his end of the phone but then continued in his usual manner. “Alright, so here’s the deal. I’m in the movie rental place on the corner of North and Highbridge. I’m going to read you the back of two movies and you’re going to tell me which one you’d prefer to watch when I get back.”

“I’m not in the mood for a movie tonight, Thompson. I have work to do.”

“It’ll still be there in the morning.” Zack overruled him bluntly. “So here are your choices, ready?”

Sephiroth closed his eyes and grumbled to himself as his friend juggled his phone. The sooner he got this absurdity over with the sooner he could pretend to finish something before the soldier returned to the building and pulled him out of the office for their usual Friday night R&R. Protesting would only delay the inevitable, apparently Zack wasn’t going to be reasonable about things. “Go ahead.”

“Alright! First pick, “Funky Monkey’, the hilarious tale of a boy and his pet test-monkey and how they go to RocketTown to rescue his girl from a bad marriage. Action and laughs ensue when their plans are confounded by a group of movie producers who want the chimp to star in their very own space drama. While the girl, played by Faye Gunn just so you know, discovers a secret treasure that could spell the end of her father’s hotel.” Zack paused for breath. “What do you think? You up for action and laughs?”

“No.”

“Alright then, forget that.” The southerner didn’t pay the least attention to the annoyance audible in his commander’s one-word answer. “I’ve got a better one. ‘Hell Dog,’ it has a great by-line, listen to this, ‘Run. Hunt. Fetch. Kill.’ Doesn’t that sound cool? It’d got this wicked looking dog on the cover, and a whole bunch of actors I’ve never heard of. Nice classic B movie horror. Good huh?”

“No, Zack.”

“No demon dogs? Man. That’s a pity. Alright then you’re really making me stretch. How about this one. ‘City Report: XXX’ it was given three and a half stars by the adult film festival in Sector2 last year and has three top models baring I-”

“Zack!” Sephiroth didn’t even want to hear the rest of the pitch. “I really am not in the mood to watch pornography at present.”

“The kid at the info desk assured me that there was an excellent plot and character development too. A really well rounded flick, and it has Jennifer Star doing full-”

“No!” He put his foot down.

Zack huffed with child-like annoyance. “Well fine, those were my picks for tonight, if you don’t want any of them, what do you want to see?”

“I told you, I’m fine as I am. Go rent whatever you want and get one of your little friends to watch it with you.”

“No way.” His friend disagreed. “Friday nights are when I pester _you_.”

“A gift for which I am at a loss of words.” Sephiroth replied sarcastically. The silence on the other end of the line was vaguely accusing. He silently cursed himself, his partner, and the world at large for a minute before caving in. “Fine. Find something funny if you must, but no monkeys. Got it?”

“No monkeys, check. How about aliens?”

“No aliens either!” Frustrated, he finally hung up the phone.

*****

lunar 6:45 PM

Friday, August 05, 2005

 

*The Highwaymen*

The raw pavement, missing its topcoat and most of the usual painted lines, thrummed beneath the tires. Vibration translated all too easily from wheels to shocks, shocks to seat, and then wickedly up through his thighs to warm his spine. Sephiroth grimly told himself that his nerves were jangling due to the motocycle's speed, the rough quality of the road. It had nothing to do with the arm he had wrapped tightly around the vehicle's driver. If he didn't hang on, he'd be tossed at the next bounce, just a smear on the highway. Pressing into the Soldier's back as they leaned into a turn he hated himself for unconsciously trying to scent a faint hint of the man's cologne.

His bangs stung as they whipped across his face, the rest of his unruly mane streaking out behind him. He'd regret not accepting the helmet later. It was one thing to scoff at the idea of cracking his skull on something as mundane as asphalt. It was something else to deal with the enormous knot his hair was likely to become on this lunatic ride. At least he had accepted the goggles Zack had pressed on him, or he'd have been half blind as well as tangled.

Even over the loud roar of the motorcycle's engine, the reason for their non-standard excursion was audible behind him. After deciding his officer was steering over a relatively level bit of paving, Sephiroth twisted to look over his shoulder. Opening four seperate jaws to howl, the beast's cry was loud enough to deafen. An impressive assortment of teeth clattered against one another as the mouth snaped shut, narrowly missing a jeep full of Soldiers that was running a parallel course to theirs.

Checking his grip on Zack's waist, Sephiroth brought his other arm around, getting a feel for the windsheer on Masamune. The force of the air changed the dynamics of the blade somewhat, but it wasn't beyond his ability to adjust. Extending the weapon out to the side like an impossibly thin wing for the motorcycle, Sephiroth leaned forwards again. "Prepare to engage."

"You're fucking insane!" He laughed, "But alright!" The southerner leaned abruptly, taking them into a tight turn. As soon as it was safe, perhaps even before, the Soldier gunned the bike into an all-out charge back the way they had come.

The less than professional commentary would have to be ignored for the moment. Sephiroth was focused on the beast, tracking its head, trusting that his irreverant accomplice would focus on keeping them from being trodden on. Disabling the monster was his job, and he didn't foresee any difficulties, provided Zack had the balls to get them close enough. And thus far in their acquaintence, it didn't seem there was anything the southerner wouldn't do, especially when dared.

Sure enough they were aiming right between the beast's legs, startling the animal somewhat as it tore itself away from stalking the jeep in order to watch them instead. DOing the improbable, it actually managed to rear, hauling it's enormous bulk up into the air as they closed the distance, threatening to smash them with its front claws.

"Hang on." Zack cried authoratively, and nobody's fool, his commander did just that.

The bike tilted alarmingly as they swerved around one massive paw and then another, Sephiroth making no pretense of not clinging to his driver with every intention of melding with the man. Somehow he kept his seat long enough to appreciate that they were almost precisely under the monster's belly, and changing tactics, he shifted his feet to get leverage against the motorcycle. "This is where I get off."

"What? Hey!"

Zack's rapidly receeding complaint was nothing. He had already sprung off the vehicle, using momentum and his not unimpressive strength to vault up over the beast's shoulder and swing his sword around for action. Distantly he could hear the bike's tires skidding out, likely his abrupt departure throwing Zack's balance off. He spared a second to worry that the tumble might break the man's leg, but didn't dwell on it. The southerner was a Soldier, for all his madcap ways. He'd probably be just fine.

Bring his blade down as he landed, he drove the weapon point first down into the base of the irate creature's skull.

*****

lunar 9:21 AM

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

 

No such thing as a free ride
* * * * *

Sephiroth had a hunch he'd be regreting Zack's offer for 'a ride to the airstrip' the instant he caught Major Pavan's slow blink of surprise. It seemed such a mundane thing for his aide to do, provide vehicular transport to and from a known location for his superiors; he hadn't expected any fuss.

"Is there something I should be aware of, Soldier?" He subvocalized to the most senior officer of his command. Riding in the elevator sholder to shoulder, Pavan was one of very few men in Shinra able to give him a sideways look that didn't involve craining his neck.

"Were you aware sir, that Zack recently found a new private vehicle?" The obliquely phrased question opened up an entirely new perspective on the matter.

Sephiroth raised his eyebrows. "Using a private vehicle on company time is hardly regulation."

"Yes sir." The huge soldier from Corel agreed blandly. "But it's a very nice car. He's been looking for excuses to show it off to everyone including my sister ever since he acquired it."

"Do I dare ask how it was acquired?" Sephiroth replied in the same tone.

"Road rally last Saturday night in Sector3, is what I heard. The winner takes loser's car." Pavan's too-calm tone bespoke of supressed laughter, or perhaps incredulity.

Shaking his head, the general could only sigh. "Remind me to not ask him who's car he was driving on Saturday. I'm certain I don't want to know."

"Using a company car for private errands is against regulation." Pavan agreed. "But in this case, I think you would be best not mentioning the price of replacing a vehicle's suspension to Palmer for a while."

"What in god's name would he have done if he _lost_." Suddenly horrified, Sephiroth closed his eyes and resolved to dicipline his subordinate for something, anything, even if he couldn't formally acknowledge the actual offense without getting Zack into a shitload of legal trouble. There was an element to the man's risk taking that was just rediculously stupid at times. The car they were riding in chimed to alert them that they had reached their floor.

"Knowing him. He'd probably just let let Palmer report the thing missing and leave the other guy holding the bag." The black man also shook his head, mourning his friend's random criminal tendancies.

"Ten demerits isn't enough, he'll just laugh them off." Sephiroth muttered. "Maybe an overnight in detention. No, still not good enough. The man needs a leash."

"House arrest?" Pavan suggested with understated amusement, in step with him as they exited the lobby. "How about one of those tracking collars for bears?"

"Don't tempt me." Sephiroth replied with grim humor, sholdering open the door and stepping into the murky sunlight.


* * * * *

lunar 11:41 AM

Tuesday, April 05, 2005

 

day in the life of the Grumpies. Dida's house, when she's still a wee lil' trainee.

*****

Lord Ko sat flipping through reports as Chofi silently poured his tea. Long years of habit meant he didn't need to worry about schooling his features in to their customary blankness. But the news was good, was better than could be expected. The fronteer was quiet, back to a status it had not enjoyed since the first sightings of humans over a century ago. The nomads had pushed off for a less argumentative territory, and the giants were at an all time low in population. There would be no need to worry about a spring swarm from the pussiant creatures. Given the option of enjoying the peace, or staying vigilant for new and unexpected threats, he prefered the second strategy. His family deserved a few years' respite however, and he was no tyrant, so patrols were kept short and to the point. He just needed to know if there was trouble among the trees, there was no need to have people squatting out amongst the trees _waiting_ for it.

Setting his reports aside he noticed Chofi was still sitting across from him, waiting for his attention. Even trying to be proper and calm, he could detect a twinkle of her usual sharply irreverant nature in her eyes, and the way her hands rested on her robe. The little reminders of the child he remembered in his able retainer almost caused him to smile. Lord Ko raised an eyebrow instead. "Yes?"

"There is a matter I wish to confer with you on, clanchief."

"Speak your mind, child. Peace-time has no need of such propriety." He shifted his pipe to the other side of his mouth and set his report aside.

She gave him a half wary look. "It concerns Lady Dida."

"I see." He composed himself for her scolding. Chofi seemed to delight in taking him to task over the girl's latest training assignments. Either Dida wasn't doing enough, or she was doing too much, or she was feeling over pressured, or ignored. He could never keep track of what Dida was reported to be feeling from month to the next, adjusting her training on Chofi's word alone would have been irresponsible. If she was able to accomplish a task she would be given another, if she wasn't, she would work at herown pace until she did. He didn't see why the concept would be so difficult for her and her teachers to grasp it.

"I belive she is overdue in being granted her first jiran." Chofi stared him right in the eye, an unusual feat for one as young as she was. "Her progress in training, her stature as your heir, her general isolation in this clan, all make her more than ready for a companion at her service."

"She is a little young to have use for a subordinate." He disagreed automatically as he turned the idea over in his mind. "And she is hardly isolated, she trains with other young people every day, doesn't she?"

"And after training?" His distant-neice shook her head. "Make no mistake, clanchief, she needs to spend more time with her own generation. She cannot spend her whole life interacting with only her elders, it will warp her personality."

"And who exactly do you have in mind for the esteemed position of handmaiden to my daughter?" Lord Ko mused.

"Zamne'zuchi and Yotei-zuchi are both good canidates for the task." Chofi promptly supplied some options. "I was thinking she might prefer more than one. You yourself have two afterall."

"... And the little princess only has one." He immediately pointed out the political angle. Still it was an interesting proposal. "Zamne is daughter of Choze, I observed her recent graduation. But Yotei is?"

Chofi coughed to hide her sudden chuckle. "He is the one who smashed the screens with his 'double swan kick' the other spring, if you remember. He has also just passed examinations. They work well together." She offered the unnecessary commendation.

With the prompt, the boy's face did come to mind, so did the hail of splinters and paper that had immediately proceeded his first seeing it. Some fosterling from another clan, determined to defend his city with youthful enthusiasm. There weren't many volunteers who found their way to his family, and fewer still, the ones able to achieve master status in their own right. The young man was worth keeping an eye on. If only to save him the indignity of dodging exploding doorways again. "Ah yes. _him_"

"I think they would balance Dida nicely." Chofi didn't pretend to hide her smile. "They're young enough that spending time with eachother wouldn't be an undue burden on any of the three."

"And old enough that they won't feel threatened by Dida's... agressive lession plan. Clever."

"As junior scouts they have not yet been assigned to any formal duties yet." She offered blandly. "They could probably use the additional training to hone their skills."

The girl was right. They would be a good match for Dida. He exhaled a little smoke and found no flaws in the plan. "In that case I see no reason why you shouldn't proceed." He shrugged at her startled look, knowing she had expected him to put up more of a fight. "Your insight into this issue does you credit, child."

Bowing where she sat, Chofi hid her amazement behind formality. "By your will, it shall be done."

"Is there anything else?"

"No clanchief, enjoy your tea." Smirking, she slipped out of his room and left him in peace. A cool breeze from the open windows pulled his eyes off her exit and towards the balcony.

"Something in this has the feel of _your_ meddling, Aube."

"I, mylord?" His aide steped around a pillar and revealed herself with customary silence of motion. "Whatever do you mean?" Opening a fan, she coyly hid behind it. He didn't mistake the courtly pose for the reality. In her silent preening she reminded him of an owl on the hunt. Aube's everpresent wind elementals fluttered in her artfully arranged hair, and in the ribbons decorating her sleeves.

"She's your daughter afterall." He offered candidly.

"Chofi is a grown woman now," Aube laughed softly. "And I didn't have much of a hand in raising her."

"So you didn't suggest that Dida be given a pair of jiran to further her training, and prestiege?"

"Not _I_" The mysterious woman murmured behind her prop. "But I might confess to approving of the idea, when Chofi asked me my opinion the other day."

"I see." He gestured that she might as well join him, and watched as she artfully poured a second cup. "You bring me news? Or were you just easedropping for your own amsusement..."

"Don't be catty, mylord." She murmured as she set her fan aside. "It isn't becomming of a man of your position."

"Aube."

"Nahan'jiran sends word from the border, mylord." Aube disposed of teasing and switched to her usual professional tone. "All clear west of the Falls to north of the grey fen. All clear from grey fen to the three hills. Hoda's patrol caught up with him at the stone sisters and will continue from there. He is bringing his group home via the tovo pass. Would you like him to check in on the keep as he passes? It isn't far out of his way."

"If it isn't inconvenient for him to do so, I would appreciate it." He tilted his head. "Will you deliver the message personally? It has been a while since you have seen the sunrise from the east tower that you used to so enjoy."

"As if you believe a minute that it is the sun, and not Naran I would go to see." She rolled her eyes. "Do you have any need of me for the next fortnight?"

"None that I forsee." Lord Ko flicked a finger at the window in dismissal. "Go see that he is unharmed from his patrol. Send word of anything worth my attention. Otherwise I will see you both when you return."

"By your leave, it shall be done." She offered a half bow as she smiled. Vanishing in a gust of air that threatened to scatter his carefully assembled reports. Having put a hand down on them instinctively to defend them from just such a frivolous act, he could only grumble softly at the woman's rapidly departing presence.

****

lunar 7:18 PM

Sunday, February 13, 2005

 

_Friday Funky_

Sephiroth entered the elevator with his customary two steps and about-face, leaning ever so lightly against the back wall of the compartment while his aid and sometime friend slouched in after him. Zack switched his clipboard to his other hand and swiped his badge to activate the panel before punching in the ground floor with a flourish. Chore accomplished, he offered his commander a frank grin as if to say ‘thank god that’s over’.

Noding in agreement, Sephiroth composed himself for the long ride downwards from president Shinra’s office to the freedom of the streets. By unspoken agreement he and Zack were on their way to the smallish park near Shinra One to stretch their legs and work out some of the frustration of sitting through the day long conference. Sitting still for 6 hours straight left him feeling a little giddy, he didn’t even want to think of how wound up his officer had to be.

Daring to give Zack a sidelong appraisal while the man stared forlornly at the security camera in the car, Sephiroth decided the man was likely one hair short of making an ass of himself just for the hell of it. A Zack in such a mood was indeed a dangerous thing. God only knew what the man would get up to if left unsupervised, just like a kid being let of out detention, the only things on his mind were likely merry mayhem. He squelched the firm desire to tell his friend to ‘Stay’ and ‘Heel.’ The short-term amusement of seeing the SOLDIER’s stunned face would hardly be worth the hours of whining that would probably ensue. Following the man’s gaze up to the sleek little camera aimed their general direction, he snorted with the sudden insanity of the idea that struck him.

Zack was looking over at him, one eyebrow raised in silent inquiry. He gave his friend a long look to appraise exactly how ‘crazy’ he was feeling, and then jerked his chin subtly at their mechanical audience. Summoning his best bored drawl, Sephiroth murmured. “I dare you.”

“No way.” The dark haired man grinned widely.

“Oh come on.” Sephiroth looked blandly out the glass windows behind him. “I bet the guard would appreciate it.”

“No!” Zack started to laugh, stubbornly shaking his head, just like a kid.

“Must get boring sitting down in that booth all day, staring at elevators.”

“You’re just trying to instigate something.” The southerner crossed his arms and made a play for stern. He failed miserably.

“You know you want to.” Sephiroth noted they were just sliding past the 50th floor. “Just until the thirties. I dare you.”

“You’re a menace.” Zack burst out laughing again. “They’re going to think I’ve gone round the twist.”

“So?”

“No!”

“I”ll pay you.” Sephiroth buffed his glove on his sleeve.

The southerner paused even as he was shaking his head in refusal. “You’ll… how much?”

“Twenty gil.”

“Cheap bastard, my pride’s worth at least fifty.”

“Fifty then.” He eyed his friend’s rapidly weakening resolve and moved in for the kill. “And we can stop for pizza at that place you like.”

“You’ll buy me pizza too?” Zack’s mouth twitched with a barely suppressed grin. “Oh damnit. You win. But they’re going to look at me funny in the lobby, you know.”

“Heh.” He accepted the clipboard he was handed with an impassive expression, watching his friend to see if the man would actually go through with it. Being an idiot late at night in the hall where nobody could see was one thing, doing it in an elevator that was under human survaliance was something else. Still, if anyone would be up for the challenge, it was Zack, and sure enough, as soon as the dark haired man had adjusted his suspenders he broke into a remarkably energetic version of the funky chicken in the middle of the cramped elevator car.

Watching Zack dance was almost a history lesson in the progression of disco club lunacy. The man rapidly switched through some sort of step-dance from the north, the signature moves from the Aquarian fad that swept the city five years ago, several break dance moves that barely fit in the confined bit of floor space, a much abbreviated Electric Slide, some Twist and Shout, a bit of Walk Like an Ancient, and then rounded off his set with the latest Mambo craze and a few minutes of frantic riotous flailing.

The southerner had just enough time to straighten his shirt and primly claim his clipboard back before the car came to a stop. Sephiroth stepped out into the lobby and gave the ogling men at the security desk an impassive stare as he strode across the polished lobby, assistant dourly in tow. He was amused to see Zack was able to keep his straight face until they hit the street. The SOLDIER fell to cackling hysterically the minute they cleared the chrome doors, and didn’t get a grip on himself until they were beyond the edge of the plaza and moving into the city proper.

“Did you see their faces?” Zack wheezed happily as he caught up with his general. “God they were floored!”

“I think you made their afternoon, Major.” Sephiroth smiled slightly, as amused as he was willing to show in public.

“You owe fifty gil, and a pizza.” His friend was quick to point out.

Sephiroth gestured that he could lead the way, murmuring “Mercenary” to his back. Zack just grinned over his shoulder, and then clutched at his neck with a pained expression.

“Ow, god damn it. I’m too sober to pull stunts like that.” The dark haired man grumbled, rubbing the sore muscles. “Hell, you owe me a beer too. Let’s go to Blue Heaven after Pizza, take an early set and see if Samantha wants to flirt with you some more.”

“I’ll pass.” Sephiroth winced a little at the memory of the last time the woman had him in her clutches. A lovely specimen to be sure and a fine singer, but the woman was far too adept at making him uncomfortable.

“Oh come on, I’ll protect you from the big bad lounge singer, general. Buy you a Curacao martini?”

“That would cancel out your beer.” The general reminded him. “And we ought to check on how much crap has piled up in the office while we were away eventually.”

”Spoil sport.”

“But I think a bit of alcohol might be required before I can stomach that particular chore.” Sephiroth sighed. “So what do you want on your pizza?”

*****

lunar 5:21 PM

 

Post laboratory fic bit, surprisingly not depressing, zack pov.

A Sort of Homecoming

I have a bit more of this or rather wanted to write more of it, but this seemed like a place to stop for the moment. Zack enjoys the occassional wallow in sap. I'll humor him.

lunar 11:09 AM

Sunday, January 23, 2005

 

more winter fic for Zack. Because I love tormenting him with snow.

Winter Training

go about your buisness, nothing to see here.

lunar 2:50 PM

Monday, January 17, 2005

 

Random weekend ficbits for your nibbling pleasure.

First, for Thorne, a grumpies ficbit, which ends up being neither happy, nor cuddly, nor action filled in any way shape or form. Miwoi is such a glutton for punnishment, I swear, but this I do believe qualifies as the worst day of his life

Exile

And for the sake of those in search of less angst, I have a Zack snippet, Workout, which probably takes place fairly early in their relationship and would fit in well with the fic 'the hospital' I wrote ages ago. Sephiroth exists in a state of constant paranoia, but what else is new.

lunar 5:20 AM

Monday, January 03, 2005

 

_ModernDayMiracles ficbit_

He had never been out to sea before.

At sea, surely, but out _in_ it? Never.

Sydney had stared compuslively back at the shore as they had departed the asian metropolis, leaving behing the comfortable certainty of land. It didn't feel right, wandering off into the unknown, it didn't feel safe.

All around, horizon to horizon, was water. Undulating silvery gray, waves flowed past on their way to places the naked eye couldn't sea, coming from nowhere, going nowhere. A quietly meditative sort of chaos.

Sydney was vaguely proud of the fact that he wasn't screaming in terror. There was Ashley of course, Mason -he corrected himself- who didn't even twitch as the shoreline vanished into the sky. He could hardly have hysterics if his lover wouldn't even do him the favor of looking a little worried at their lack of direction. He had an image to maintain after all. _He_ had to cope with a new name, new clothes, and world changed beyond all hope of remembering, but the Riskbreaker was still annoyingly blaise about things. Somehow Sydney was resolved to bear up under the stress. It, combined with the force of concious will it usually took to keep the Dark around him behaving itself, was leaving him queasy with a monumental headache. It had been several centuries since he had experienced seasickness too.

It was a reacquaintence he could have done without.

Reality was rapidly becoming synonymous with misery in his thoughts. Sydney didn't think it was a particularly good sign. As far as coping strategies went, it was pretty useless. All he wanted to do was go home to the Shadows where everything was safe and quiet and firmly under his control, even of only some of the time.

"Bastard." Needing to distract himself with _something_ he gave in to his urge to kick his lover in the shin as he stood idly at the railing. Ashley's, no, _Mason's_ lack of intrinisic sympathy was unforgiveable. Keeping names straight was going to be a giant pain in the neck. Not like they mattered anyway, just arbitrary lables assigned for convenience in conversation. He glared at the man in annoyance.

"Excuse me?" Mason, who had been engrossed with the waves, almost jumped out of his skin at the blow. "What was that for?" His lover gave him a hurt look, rubbing his leg.

"For being so bloody calm all the time." He turned back to look for land one last time before sighing in defeat. "I don't like this."

"You haven't liked much since we left the temple." His partner murmured, finally having the decency to look concerned. Concerned and far too young, Sydney's mind rebelled. He selfishly wanted his old Riskbreaker back. Tall and strong, soberly world weary at times, _familiar_.

Just once he wanted to look at someone and be able to recognize them.

The constant brazen newness of everything was a torment he could live without.

What in the world has there been to _like_? He didn't want to say it aloud but Ashley picked up the thought as if it had been. The man cringed as if burned.

// I'm sorry. I know it's been hard. //

Sydney immediately felt like an utter heel and leaned against his partner a little, sharing the feeling across their sometimes unavoidable link. // It hasn't been all bad... I have you after all, right? //

If they hadn't been on a very public part of the deck, he was sure Mason would have draped a comforting arm across his shoulders. As it was, he had to settle for an answering nudge against his shoulder. //You had me before. //

He pondered giving Ashley -no, Mason- another kick. It only irritated him more, needing to remember that his lover wasn't quite the way he remembered. New everything, he missed the old, it had been comfortable and suited him perfectly. Sydney had a hunch that this new world wouldn't suit him much at all.

But it would break his big dumb lover's heart if he gave up so soon. Sydney mustered a bit of a smile. "Oh I don't know, I liked the plumbing. That was a definite improvement. Central heating is lovely too."

"Heh."

Sydney smoothed the front of his new jacket as he searched for other hopeful items. "The clothing isn't all together bad either. Better made, at least, well woven."

"Textile mills." Mason offered, cryptically, looking out over the waves.

"Are those like windmills?" Sydney guessed.

"More like..." The former Riskbreaker trailed off, frowning as he tried to find some comparison that would work. "Sort of, but instead they weave wool into string, or string into cloth. They aren't powered by water or wind anymore either."

"What are they powered by?" Sydney leaned next to him on the railing, curious.

"Petroleum engines. A sort of tiny furnace that burns oil that comes from deep under ground."

"Sort of like the black waters from Persia? Lea Monde had some as well, in the deeper places. It stung to touch."

"Yup." Mason nodded. "Probably the same for this ship. Oil burning, or coal maybe."

"No one uses sails anymore?" Sydney looked up at the ugly looking stacks rising above the deck. "A pity."

"Inefficient, I guess." Scratching his head, his lover looked back to see something of interest. "Hey, I'm going to go talk to the first-mate for a bit, you stay here, alright?"

"As you like, call me if you need anything." He couldn't blame his lover from wanting to escape his dull company. Mason probably wanted to catch up with his own countrymen a bit more after a few years away.

Now that he was getting the hang of the open water, he found the sight to be rather enjoyable. It made him feel childlike and small, both strange welcome sensations after all their recent trials. He wondered if there were any seamonsters, he had always wanted to see one.

"Don't forget, your name is Simon now, got it?" Mason caught his arm before he dissapeared to the upper level.

"Simon, right, I remember." He waived airly at his lover, warning him not to fuss. Names were irrelevant compared to the light sparkling off the waves.

"Ok then, I'll be back in a bit." Watching him leerily, Mason moved across the deck and up to where several officers stood talking. Sydney decided it wasn't anything of interest, and went back to studying the water. He had never been on such a huge ship, literally several flights of stairs above the surface of the sea. It felt almost like he was back in his tower. Bending over the railing, he looked straight down the metal clad side of the ship and into the water frothing in their wake. There were animals darting and diving amid the white bubbles; massive fish stalking them across the deep sea.

// STOP THAT. //

The mental scolding almost made him overballance. He glared and communicated as much back towards where his partner stood. Being more cautious, he looked down again, just in time to watch one of the massive silvery fish sheer off into the depths. Annoyed he looked around and saw why. A much larger sort of fish skimmed the surface a little ways off, it's top fin darkly blending with the waves before it dipped below water. As he stared, other fins came to the surface, the beasts schooling and diving beneath the waters.

Reaching out to them with a tentative thought, he was pleased to find they were smart enough to notice him, cruising closer to the ship, as curious about him as he was of them. Their strange thoughts spoke of the noise of the ships passing, and the hunt for food, but lost in the waves he couldn't see them as he wanted too.

// Is there a lower deck on this ship? Closer to the water? //

// Probably, for maintence, but it'd be dangerous to go on it. //

// Drat. //

He sighed. Some of his dissatisfaction comunicated down to his new friends because suddenly they were laughing. To his delight one of them suddenly began to race ahead, and then threw itself out of the water with wild glee. Black and white and casting spray in every direction, it was still sadly far out of reach as it flipped its enormous body in the air alongside the ship and splashed back down into the sea. He grinned in delight at the antics, ignoring the shouts from the crew.

Beautiful! He told the monsters. You're beautiful!

Two more broke the surface, immediately curling into demure dives as he admired them. A third came to the surface only to roll on it's side, it's gaping mouth full of sharp teeth as it almost smiled up at him, silently asking for more praise. The largest of the pack launched itself airborn again, showing off with a backflip like jump as it demonstrated its might.

It was only when he felt Mason's hands on his shoulders that he noticed he was no longer alone at the railing. Half the ship's crew were pointing and clapping, some with the strange cameras that had startled him so on his first encounter. His lover leaned foward to murmur in his ear. "What did you do?"

"Nothing!" He turned a little to see the man was torn between scolding and admiring the leviathan's antics alont with everyone else. "I didn't do anything, I swear, they were just swiming along, I didn't summon them."

"They're probably just migrating through this area. They're not magical, whelp, just orca, that's all."

"Orca?" Sydney frowned, looking down at the playful animals.

"Whales." Mason kindly supplied. "Deep sea mammals, kind of related to dogs."

"Leviathans." Sydney murmured. "But very handsome ones."

Mason inhaled as if to correct him, but then let it out with a chuckle as the creatures played games with eachother among the waves. "And I suppose they just happened to come alongside the ship because they felt like it?"

"I wanted to see what they looked like, and they obliged me." He shrugged. "They like being told that they're handsome."

"Most people do." His lover squeezed his shoulders gently. "Now do me a favor and tell the nice whales to go play somewhere else? You'd feel terrible of one of the crew decided they'd make good eating."

Horrified by the idea of his new friends being on the dinner menu, he quickly passed the idea along. It was hard not to be dissapointed as the carefree monsters agreed with him and began to cruise away, off in search of their own dinners. Sydney listened for them long after they were out of sight, hearing their distant thoughts easily in the relative emptiness of the sea.

//Add leviathans to the list of things I like here. // He smiled to himself as he heard Mason's snort of laughter.

lunar 3:50 PM

 

Merrin's Point of View

Hmm actually this is the next 15 pages of script for my grumpy elves reduced down to a ficbit. But I don't know when the pages will be done, and I like it to much to leave it laying around collecting dust.

lunar 1:15 PM

Monday, December 20, 2004

 

_Cold_
_zack snippet_
Inspired by the fact that it's 5damn degrees right now, which is negative, OhMyGod in Celsius, and I just whined and shivered my way to the bank and back on an emergency mission to pay a bill before I get a nasty call from someone.

"... Jerk c-c-chicken with extra sauce... served on freshly toasted rolls-s-s, m-melted 'jack cheese... C-c-cocoa with a double shot of vanilla vodka... samosas with fruit chutney strong enough to bring tears to a man's eyes... oh damn... I co-c-could kill for some chutney..."

Sephiroth spared a glance over his shoulder at the man slogging along after him. The wind cut down his collar as he did, cold enough that even he had to admit it. Frigid spangles of frost stung bare skin as they were carried by the wind over the drifts. Zack was by in large immune to their white glacial beauty, unimpressed with the vastness of their little corner of the world. The dark haired man looked like a heavy duty winter jacket had sprouted legs and a shock of 'white man's afro' and taken to moving itself about the ghostly terrain on its own. All Sephiroth could make out if his friend's face was the pair of tinted snow goggles just barely cresting the high collar of the quilted coat. If not for the constant miserable litany he might have made the mistake of thinking the SOLDIER was weathering the cold just fine.

"... mulled wine... fresh baked cookies... curry, spicy succulent curry... rice with little bits of saffron in it... takoyaki smothered in sauce..."

The southerner's hair was frosted at the tips, catching the snow as it blew by and making him look rather freezer-burned. Zack didn't even notice he'd stopped just kept on muttering and walking, huddled against the wind until he almost plowed right into him. He caught himself just in time, staggering back and almost overbalancing into the snow. "Fuck! don't do that!"

He dug his hands back into the coat's pockets for warmth. "Too f'ing cold for that... too much damn snow."

"It's all in your head you know." Sephiroth smirked, and then fought not to wince as a particularly nasty gust caught him in the face. "You're a SOLDIER, you should be fine for days at this temperature. It can't be worse than negative five or so."

Zack just shivered in his thick coat and goggles, too cold to even come up with a good reply. Ironically, his silent misery almost did the trick. The general sighed. "We'll be back at the township in another hour or two. I'll dispatch a second helicopter to pick up the others, you can soak your cares away in the hot tub. Fair enough?"

"... grand. S-s-sorry I'm not more help."

"You're the one who didn't want me going by myself." Sephiroth snorted. "You could be warm and snug with the team in the cave."

It was hard to read a man's expression when all he had to work with was eyebrows, and those were only exposed half the time, when the wind swept his unruly bangs back against his skull. Still the overly plumped up looking man standing in the snowdrift looked peeved, peeved and cold. Zack's voice emerged from the vague vicinity of his collar, "'S against regulations to let the brass wander off on his own. What if you broke your leg or something?"

"That's hardly likely is it?"

"Might get eaten by a grue or something."

Sephiroth turned back to the dull chore of crunching his way through the top layer of snow as he broke trail up hill. His aide would stop grousing if there was something that required his involvement, but as far as the rest was concerned, he was definitely not suited for his current environment. The minute Zack was left to his own devices, his quiet mantra resumed.

"C-cold, f'ing cold! So cold... warm, think warm thoughts, where was I... oh yeah... stew, thick meaty stew with potatoes and onions and bacon. Fried eggs and sausage, waffles. Sweet sweet waffles. Chocolate chip pancakes. Turtle brownies, ooh ooh pie. Apple crisp. Blueberry c-c-crumble."

"You're making me hungry." Sephiroth sighed. At the crest of the ridge, he looked down into the next valley and was silently relieved to see the familiar roof tops of the village. Parked outside and tethered against the wind stood several transport 'copters very much like the one that had just had the audacity to break down on him in the field. "Can't you talk about something else?"

"You got any b-b-better ideas?"

Eyeing the near vertical slope critically. The general hunkered down against the wind and pulled his friend down to do the same. "Sure. Help me think of a good way to get us from here, to there." He pointed at the bottom of the valley several hundred feet down and about twenty feet to the left.

"Hello." Zack blinked at the sharp drop-off, momentarily too distracted to whine about the cold. "Watch that first step. It's a doozy."

"Indeed."

"We got any rope left?"

Sephiroth didn't even bother to look into his pack, "No. Used it at the last crevasse."

"Damn." The southerner actually pulled his goggles off for the first time all day, squinting a moment against the bright light before getting a better look at what they were up against. "Would be killer on a pair of skis, but I think we're going to have to go down on our butts and hope for the best."

"We'll start an avalanche." Sephiroth grimly forecasted.

Zack only gave him a 'please don't jinx us' look before shifting to get both legs over the edge. "Well, what the hell. I'm already frozen solid, being buried in snow and clobbered by rocks will be good for a laugh."

Gingerly snapping his goggled back into place with movements made awkward by a pair of giant mittens, the SOLDIER gave him a thumbs up. "If I die, you'll know this is a bad idea. Ok?"

His officer’s intention to slide down the hill was sadly less than realistic, Sephiroth fatalistically decided. Zack's body twisted almost immediately, and already in a protective crouch, he proceeded to _roll_ much of the way down the slope, picking up a phenomenal amount of dry powder as he went until it was hard to tell what was man and what was snow in all the tumbling. Two bounces along the considerably flatter and softer packed floor of the valley, and the whole mess came apart with an audible. "Wahoo!" leaving the dark haired SOLDIER a bright colored sprawl below; a veritable one-man-avalanche. Surprisingly, the slope held steady, to tightly packed by the wind to shift with the sudden assault. That was promising at least.

Zack flailed a moment in his heap of snow and then staggered to his feet, shaking himself off like a dog. Looking back up at the erratic path he had carved down the hill, he waved exuberantly up at his general. "That was AWESOME! I want to do that again!"

"I thought you were cold!" He smiled briefly and thought better as his teeth felt frozen. Certainly his friend seemed far more lively now than he had been since the initial post-emergency landing rush. Zack and snow was usually a miserable combination. Zack and snow sports however seemed to work just fine.

"I'm fucking freezing and I have snow down my pants!!" Came the happy reply. "But damn that was insanely _fun_! and Hey! I can see the village! Come on, come on! You have to try it!"

The man had a point. As ludicrous as it had looked, sliding was the fastest way down. Sephiroth sat on the edge and contemplated how best to go about it. Obviously Zack's strategy had worked, but he had no intention of deliberately going down head over heels if he could help it. Studying the slope he saw a second possibility. It still might not work, and he'd end up looking the fool, or at worse, breaking an ankle, but at least only Zack would be there to witness it either way, and it wasn't that far to the village.

Using a portion of his reportedly 'awesome' strength, Sephiroth jumped off the ledge, not even trying to stick to the slope for the first and steepest section. Unlike Zack's more appropriate apparel, his long coat did have one rather interesting benefit. He caught the tail of it mid air and promptly curled into the tightest huddle he could manage, catching his heels on the inside lining. The leather snapped taunt under his foot and up around his back, providing a near frictionless surface with which he hit the soft powder halfway down the slope. His luck held as the hard packed powder held under the impact, sending him skidding downwards at terrific speed rather than sinking him right down to the bedrock.

Steering wasn't exactly a fine science, more of a tentative leaning left and right and praying he wouldn't lose his balance. He spun once on the way down, but still managed to blow well past where Zack had come to rest, hearing the SOLDIER cheering him on as he pondered how best to slow down before ending face down in a snowdrift. In the end he was obliged to simply let go of the leather, and half somersaulted, half crashed through the snow and back to his feet again. Dizzy he staggered around to see how far he had come, and could only blink the snow out of his eyes as a distant Zack hopped through the deep drifts to reach him, waving and hooting like a little kid.

Sephiroth blew out a huff of breath, still a little surprised at his success. If he tried hard enough, he might even convince himself that he had known it would work all along before the southerner finally caught up with him. Shaking the snow out of his sleeves and hair, he had to admit, the adrenaline rush was very warming.

lunar 5:41 PM

Sunday, December 19, 2004

 

_Modern Day Miracles_ ficbit
(reunion in NYC)

With a wet concussion, the slug-like beast swelled and burst leaving the street smelling strongly of day old garbage, but relatively monster free. Mason sighed in relief, letting his barrier spell drop. Simon peered out from behind his shadow, amused at the sudden deceased state of their enemy but having the good sense to not go and poke it. He resisted checking his mage for injury, knowing perfectly well that incidental damage would hardly be noticed before it got repaired. Instead Mason gingerly stepped towards the steaming carcass, wondering what happened to the two good-samaritans that had leapt innocently to their defense.

He certainly hadn’t asked for interference. He had barely even seen the two guardians –maybe they were hunters?- coming. One minute he was dropping their day’s shopping in favor of twisting the Dark into a sword while Simon’s quick geas held the oozing monstrosity at bay, the next, two efficient-looking men in suits were diving to take up positions in front of them and then charging in for the kill.

Even with the quick fight, he could tell they were a solid team. They had been moving beautifully in fact, right up until the dark haired one had been swallowed whole. His fairer partner had gaped a moment, and then strangely, vanished into what Mason could only call a puff of smoke. A moment later, the smoke had wafted over their enemy with the spectacular results now threatening to make his shoes sticky. Studying the wreckage in the street, he wondered if he had just unwittingly witnessed the demised of two promising young Hunters.

Silvery mist emerged from the rotting bulk of what used to be the creature's head, drifting with a purpose until it was well clear of the largish puddle of slime before twisting and resolving itself into a young man in a navy suit. Mason watched, amused as the frazzled looking young fighter dusted himself off and tried to smooth his hair. Once settled, the stranger promptly pulled a pair of sunglasses out of his breast pocket and put them on.

“Brother?” He tentatively asked the stinking mass as he stood at its edge. A corner of it belched some more noxious fluid as it dissolved, causing him to cringe unhappily. “… Jacob? You in there?”

The highest portion of the heap abruptly split open, spilling even more clotted liquid down and out onto the street. It left behind the second man, hunched over and drenched in slime. He slowly lowered his sword, watching with grim fascination as the gelatinous goo slid down his hand and along the blade before plopping into the larger field of sludge he stood in. He blinked slowly, seeming to have a hard time coming to terms with his situation before looking murder over at his partner.

The blond only cringed again. "You hurt?"

His brother flipped back his long bangs, slicking them to his head as he tried to wipe the worst of the slime from his hair, and then tried to shake the remaining gunk off his hand. When that failed, he moved to wipe his face on his sleeve, reconsidered, and settled for a marginally cleaner portion of fabric on the inside of his collar.

Mason tried hard not to smile, reminded of nothing so much as a wet cat trying to sort itself out. The dark haired man spat, obviously hoping to get the unpleasant flavor out of his mouth before trying to speak. "I'm disgusted beyond all measure. But I'm otherwise unhurt."

Carefully picking his way through the slippery mess, the older man found his way to the safety of the sidewalk before looking over his shoulder at the remaining effluent. "Daniel, remind me whether I did or didn't forbid you from ever using that particular spell again?"

"It ATE you!" His partner gestured at the still decomposing beast. "I just did the first thing that came to mind!"

"I was perfectly all right until it started to turn to jelly with me still inside."

"I couldn't just do nothing." Daniel grimaced. "How was I to know? I thought you were being chewed."

“I, and everything I possess, smell like I’ve been left rotting in the sun for days. Forgive me if I have a hard time being happy you interfered.”

Something about the man’s voice suddenly clicked. Mason felt stupid at having not immediately recognized his face. To be fair, it had been over two hundred years since they had last met, but given their history it felt strange to forget about him completely. The world seemed to grow smaller every day.

Mason shook his head in amusement, reaching into his shopping bag to hand Jacob a t-shirt. Even if he hadn’t known the man, he would have happily made the gesture. It hadn’t cost much, and it was the least he could do for someone who put their life on the line for him. "Here, at least it'll help with your face and hands."

"I'm deeply grateful," Jacob scrubbed at both with frustrated strokes before squinting up at the sun. His sunglasses, upon inspection, were as slimed as the rest of him. Simon shook off his stunned trance and stepped forward to clean them with a flick of his fingers. The random act of magic definitely got both of the men’s attention, but neither seemed particularly alarmed. Jacob simply stared at his cleaned accessory, and at the blond for a moment, then settled them calmly back on his nose. "Again, I am obliged."

"I remember you." Simon studied him with a thoughtful frown. "I didn't at first, but now I do. You're Jacob Montclaire, aren't you?"

"Indeed." The man offered his makeshift cleaning rag back to Mason with a chagrined smile. Mason simply pointed to the nearest trash basket, into which the soiled shirt was dropped. "I'll buy you a new one."

"If you want." He shrugged. "Good to see you again?"

"I didn't think I'd recognize you after all these years, Andre." Jacob peeled off his ruined suit jacket and dropped it in the trash as well. "But your partner hasn't changed a hair since last I saw him. Other than not being dead."

“No offense.” Jacob nodded politely in Simon’s direction.

The blond simply shook his head, “None taken.”

Mason rubbed the back of his head and chuckled at how strange it all was. "Damn, I haven't been called Andre since... god knows how long..."

"You always were lousy at aliases." Simon sighed.

"Mason isn't a bad choice." Jacob quietly commented.

"His mother picked it out." The blond was quick to point out.

"How true." Jacob replied. Turning to his partner he waved the man over. "This is my… younger brother. Daniel. Please forgive his exuberance."

The pale fighter almost bowed to them, hesitant of his welcome. It didn’t help that his brother was glaring at him again, “This is going to smell even worse once it heats up, Daniel. Call the guild office and tell them to dispatch a cleaning crew? I'm not in the mood to deal with them."

“Yes Jacob.” Humbled, he slunk off to the phone booth on the corner as spectators cautiously drew forward to watch the last of the monster’s spectacular decay.

Mason had to admit, whatever it was the young man had done, it was a doozy of a spell. “Does he do that often? I’ve never seen that one before… not much call for ultra-fast rotting, usually.”

“It’s a variation on a rather unpleasant area or research undertaken by our late father, at some point in his life.” Jacob’s expression was distinctly un-amused. “Originally it was meant as a form of slow torture, but Daniel’s approach is considerably more abrupt.”

“He’s truly your brother then. A Montclaire? Half-blooded?” Simon put the pieces together a lot faster than he did. Simon did that a lot.

Mason blinked at the revelation. “How could your father possibly have another like you?! I thought he was dead?”

“Like Simon, for a while he was most resistant to staying that way… Unlike your partner here, I have never been pleased to see my father again. In any incarnation.” Jacob sighed. “This is all quite interesting, I’m sure, and I am very glad to have finally caught up with your both… but might I beg off until after I get a shower and a clean suit? This really is turning quite rancid.”

“What about Daniel?” Simon looked over his shoulder as the grumpy dhampiel lead them down the street towards his hotel. “Will he be alright on his own?”

“His social skills are fine. It’s his fighting that needs work.” Jacob dourly replied, sticking to the shadows when possible as he made a beeline for home. “The boy’s a menace sometimes, I swear.”


*****

lunar 4:19 PM

Tuesday, December 14, 2004

 

*Got Cable?*


Looking up from his rapidly diminishing stack of reports, Sephiroth decided that maybe a break was in order. The reports weren't that boring, but if he didn't move to intervene soon, he had grave doubts that his aide and sometime best friend wouldn't end up permanently embedded in the crawlspace behind his entertainment center, head first into his abandoned Betamax collection. A muffled 'damnit' and a suspiciously painful sounding 'clunk' proved he was probably right.

"Zack?" He didn't really want to ask what the man thought he was doing. He was sure he didn't want to offer to assist. Left with simply demanding the southerner sit on his couch and behave himself, he decided it probably wouldn't go over well with his current audience.

The dark haired man shifted slowly back towards vertical, leaning heavily on the prefab shelving as his head and shoulders cleared the back of the unit with a groan. "Lost the friggin' screwdriver."

"I'm sure it will keep the candy wrappers and fossilized pizza company without complaint." Sephiroth blandly ignored the death glare shot his direction and turned a page. "Have you considered, I don't know, calling the cable company?"

"What the hell would I do that for?" Zack stretched with carefree abandon, spine cracking in several wince inducing ways. "Borrowing a feed from next door is dead easy, and I KNOW that Captain Singh gets both feeds off of ShinraLateNight."

Still determined, the dark haired man tried to retrieve his missing tool by approaching the problem via the side. A few minutes of cursing and he was flat on the carpet, upto the shoulder underneath his entertainment center as he pawed at the dust bunnies beneath. Sephiroth watched the little bits of acculumated filth puff out onto the carpet with a sigh. "... I know I pay you enough to get cable, Zack. What the hell are you spending it on?"

"It's not a matter of costs, damnit. It's the principle of the thing!" His friend grumbled in defeat and went to remove himself. "I mean, 200 a month? Just for stupid digital menus that don't even block the advertisements? Come on!"

Zack's arguement faded as he continued to look for leverage against the floor. Sephiroth watched warily as the items on the higher shelves rattled threateningly. Another abortive jerk and his assumption was correct.

The man was stuck.

It took a few more seconds for the southerner to come to the same conclusion, grumbling and trying to delicately lift the lowest shelf a little to buy some leeway. Sephiroth tried not to laugh at Zack's troubles, and ended up coughing instead. He wondered if maybe this wasn't like pet ownership, in a way, as he stood up. Zack hadn't even gotten to the whining and scratching stage yet, but it was only a matter of time until he did.

"If I lift this, it'll probably fall apart." He critiqued the cheap shelving.

"Maybe if we just take the TV off of it? I don't really care about the rest, but the TV is new."

A few seconds of checking if there was enough slack in the cable, and Sephiroth hoisted the widescreen monster-of-a-set up off the lowest deck of the shelving unit. It was almost too big to hang onto conveniently, but with minor fumbling he got it propped up on one hip, using his free hand to hold a precariously perched pot of loose change steady as Zack wrenched his arm out from underneath everything. The SOLDIER got free and proceeded to sit on the carpet and swear as he inspected a scrape on his arm.

"Do you mind?" He murmured, pondering the potential entertainment value of dropping ten pounds of random pocket change on his friend's head to remind him. Sephiroth had limited patience for being used as storage. Zack must have seen something in his expression because he was bouncing to his feet with an 'oop' and relieving him of the pot without delay. Sephiroth settled the TV back into it's resting place with precision, staring at his dust covered hands with dismay. "Your apartment is a cesspool of bacteria and allergens."

"Cesspool implies moisture." Zack looked back at him with a laugh. "Just take your gloves off, you can wash them later."

It took less effort to do as he was told than to debate it. Dropping them on the table, he decided if he was going to do it, he might as well go all the way. He caught Zack where the man stood surprised, holding the southerner's face between his hands and claiming a kiss for services rendered.

lunar 10:33 AM

Thursday, December 02, 2004

 

_Parent Teacher Wednesday_

The only thing worse than parent-teacher days at his middle school, as far as Isaac was concerned, were parent-teacher days with Simon. He fussed idly with his lunch bag on his way to the cafeteria, sitting with his usual group of friends. They all looked at him eagerly, knowing perfectly well that his father was gone away to Germany for a business trip, leaving him, and his lunches, in the less-than-expert hands of his godfather. The meeting wasn't until two, which meant he'd have to go through it after attempting to digest whatever mystery was to be his lunch.

"Well come on then," Jen grinned at him as she laid out her own lunch-box worth of edibles. "Let's see what he did this time!"

Isaac set his bag down with a martyred sigh, and began to pull out his so called lunch. The first thing he came up with was pleasantly, an apple. He stared at the perfectly normal lunchtime accessory with amazement. Maybe Simon was getting the hang of it after all. He reached again, and came up with a banana.

Joe snickered. "Looks like he packed the fruit bowl."

"Maybe he just forgot he had already packed the apple..." Isaac wondered why he tried to defend the man. He didn't even think they had bananas in the house.

Reaching again, he found a turkey drumstick wrapped in foil and Jen gave a cheer. It was followed by what looked like it had been a piece of cake in plastic wrap, before it had been in the bottom of a paper sack _under_ an apple, banana, and turkey leg. He sighed and peered into the depths, wondering if that accounted for the strange weight of the bag he had been hauling around all day. He sighed at the sight of several slices of bread mashed into the bottom of the bag beneath a small butter knife and a jar of mustard. He got the jar out by the simple expedient of tipping the whole sack over, letting it roll onto the table with a clatter and a generous mound of crumbs. "And that's that."

"Well he's getting better, really." Jen offered sympathetically as she stole some of his turkey and dipped it in the mustard, trading him a pudding-cup out of pity. "At least it's better than Monday when all you got was Jell-O salad in casserole with some tinfoil on top."

"That was good Jell-O salad." Steve agreed. Having traded for some of the gooey mess in exchange for half his ham sandwich, he would know.

Isaac scooped mashed cake and frosting off the plastic wrap with an idle finger. "Yeah, that was a leftover from before dad left. I'll tell him to make some for the summer party if you want."

"Oh yeah!" Steve cheered. "Maybe he can teach my mom to stop adding canned peaches to hers, I hate that."

"What time is your group meeting?" Jen asked sympathetically. "Simon's coming to that right?"

"Yeah." He sighed. It would be the first meeting his father missed in 3 years. After Simon's first attempt at involvement with the school board, it had been agreed by everyone that maybe such things were better left in Mason's hands. "The meeting is at two, he promises he won't be late."

"I remember in fourth grade," Joe commented dreamily. "When the principle tried to tell him that you ought to be in special classes because of your eye."

Isaac cringed at the memory. Sure, Simon had been right to talk the man out of it. He didn't want to be stuck in a class with kids who drooled or needed help tying their shoes just because he was missing an eye. It was just the _way_ Simon had talked the principle out of it that had needed a little work.

"The guy resigned the next day and we had the assistant superintendent for the district come and run the school until summer." Joe continued. "I think Mr. Lowell made him cry."

"What did he say to him anyway?" Jen offered him some of her carrot sticks.

"Can't remember." Isaac only wished it was true, gnawing on his turkey leg in earnest now that they were approaching the bell. Eventually everything was cleared into the trash, save for the jar of mustard. He had no idea what to do with it for the rest of the day, and decided to just give it back to Simon when he saw the man at the meeting.

lunar 10:38 AM

 

Barrettes Ok, so I suck at free-styling in Photoshop Probably the ugliest zack I've ever drawn, but hey, he's got chocobo barrettes on! That has to count for something.

And now, sligntly less retarded ficbit.

_SetPoint_

The official party having long ended, Sephiroth was not amiss to utilizing the empty park for his own amusement. All but one of his drunkly rowdy team had crawled off to home and bed, or to _someone's_ bed, following countless hours of playing and eating and drinking. Their drinking in particular had been astounding. He hadn't been entirely abstinant, but through the course of the evening he must have counted several cows worth of grilled meat, and no fewer than twenty kegs and assorted bottles emptied at a steady rate. SOLDIERs or not, some of them would doubtless be getting up in the middle of the night to urgent calls of nature.

As it turned out, there were just the two of them left behind. Zack remained because he was hypothetically in charge of the 'clean up' committee for their little picnic. As for himself, he pondered his rationalization, he had of course been waiting for a lift back to base.

The clean up, amounting to rounding up a small army of crumpled cups and other litter into trash bags took all of 20 minutes. Sephiroth hadn't even bothered to get up, just watching in idle amusement as his aide swept through the disaster zone like a blackhaired whirlwhind leaving a series of neatly tied of trashbags in his wake. He had mobilized himself in time to assist the man with collapsing and stacking the long tables, leaning them against the wall of the pavillion for the rental company to come and collect. But afterwards, as they stood together and assessed the now empty space, there had still remained the question of what to do with the rest of his evening.

Driving back into the city had little appeal, not with the summer breeze sweeping in from the coast. Kalm was a wonderland in comparison with the wastes around Midgar, but then, alot of places were. He reminded himself that Zack couldn't get on with his night until after driving him back, and felt bad for holding the man up.

"Shall we go? Doubtless, you have other places to be."

"Who me?" Zack had blinked, startled out of enjoying the scenery. "Why do you say that?"

"It's an evening, on a day off. I thought you might be itching to go downtown and enjoy yourself. Don't let me slow you down."

"Nah. It's Friday." The southerner shrugged. Wandering past him and out onto the park's grounds, he had scooped up the abandoned volleyball where it lay on the little sand court. "One-on-one?"

And with that, their plans had been cemented.

Really the net was something of an afterthought. It, and the grassy boundaries of the court were the only things keeping their game remotely sane. Sephiroth snagged the ball as it soared out of bounds, and tossed it once as he positioned himself to serve. The sun was long gone, leaving them to play by the light of a nearby parkinglot. Not exceptionally good conditions, but the sand was soft, and the crouched shape of Zack, watching him manically from the other side of the net was easy to pickout. Picking his target, Sephiroth deftly tossed and then nailed the ball over their battered net. Despite his second's uncoordinated dive, the projectile hit the sand with an impressive spray.

Zack grumbled something about mortalities on the court, and rolled the ball back to him. He twirled it on a gloved-finger before offering a teasing, "What was the score again? I've forgotten already."

"Fourty-two to thirty, and don't rub it in." Zack shifted on the sand, eyes glued to the ball. "I can still catch up."

"It's not like we're playing a regulation game." Sephiroth murmured, taking pity on the man and serving the ball with a little less speed. The southerner was ready for it, taking his generousity and retaliating with a bump-and-spike. He meant to set it back over just to annoy the man, but somehow the ball slipped off his fingertips and riccocheted off his forehead instead. "Ow."

Zack only grinned as he rubbed his face, pointing to where the ball landed, well within bounds. "My serve, old man." Sephiroth rolled his eyes and nudged the battered toy over the sand to where his friend could scoop it up.

Watching Zack serve was a pleasure in and of itself. The southerner brought a whole new meaning to the concept of jump-and-smash. In terms of actual distance off the ground on contact, Sephiroth wouldn't have been surprised to find Zack's serve was actually higher than his own. It was also when serving that Zack proved that years of experience did count for something afterall. He had an uncanny ability to apply spin with his slams, making the ball behave in not entirely predictable ways. Watching the projectile fly his way, Sephiroth backed up a little until he was able to volley it safely. Five returns later, he came up short, and it rebounded off the net instead.

Zack collapsed in the sand with a whoop. "That's Thirty-one!"

"Surrender, Major, accept your defeat gracefully." Sephiroth leaned over, bracing his hands against his knees as he shook some of the sand out of his hair. "This isn't a war you can win."

"Yeah I know. Just a game after all. S'fun."

Nudging the ball so that it rolled over and bounced off the SOLDIER's shoulder, Sephiroth silently agreed. Instead he murmured an affectionate, "Masochist. It's still your serve."

"Remind me to jump in the pond later, get some of this scuzz off." Zack pulled himself up and took his ball to the back of the court. "Don't want to drive home with sand in my shirt."

"Oh and duckweed is that much better?"

"The pond doesn't have duck weed, you saw it yourself when we got here." His friend made a long suffering face. "You're just water-prejudiced, admit it."

"It had _things_ swimming in it." Sephiroth pointed out. "Do you want to _bathe_ in water that has things living in it?"

"People have done it for centuries, I'm told." Zack countered mildly.

"Unsanitary." He made a face.

Zack simply laughed. "You are such a prissy bitch somedays. No one would ever believe me if I told them, but you really are." Holding up his ball as if it was a weapon, he pointed across the court. "Prepare yourself, General."

"I'm not the one stalling." Flipping his hair over his shoulder, Sephiroth casually beckoned the man onwards.

*****

lunar 7:38 AM

Monday, November 29, 2004

 

_Modern Day Miracles_

After the disaster that had nearly been their walk through the city, Mason was very
glad to be able to finally lay eyes on the cheerfully defiant red-white-and-blue
flag fluttering in front of the American Embassy. Another couple of blocks, and they
would be able to bang on the gate like proper stranded tourists, and demand a few
comforts from home.

// Glad to be a spoilt American? Hell yes. //

// What's so good about America, anyway? How come we can't claim to be French? I can
speak French at least. //

Sydney's exhaustion added a nuance to his thoughts that Mason could only describe as
'crabby'.

He chose his words carefully.

// Not the way they do now, you don't. // He tried not to show his amusement.

//Things are a little more complicated these days, I am afraid. Sneaking across a
border of a country is usually frowned at. It's a lot easier to just get permission.
//

He had a healthy respect for the blond's short temper, not to mention his newly
enhanced abilities. Even without having the Dark babbling loudly at him about the
city's goings on, he could feel the press of people in ways he had almost forgotten.
The enormity of the metropolis they were walking through only enhanced what had
once, a life time ago, been plenty annoying. How Sydney could possibly stand the
constant noise was a serious worry.

// We don't have proof that we're Americans either, what difference does it make? //
The mage continued to grumble to himself, and the world at large.

They went to cross the street, but Sydney balked at stepping off the curb until
Mason reached back and forcably tugged him forward by the hand. The mage's initial
close-encounter with the rather helter-skelter traffic in the city had left him
paranoid about the roads.

Mason pittied the poor driver but kept it to himself. Wherever the man and his car
had ended up when the wild magic caught him, he hoped it was still somewhere in
their current plane of reality. At the time he had been more worried with Sydney's
reaction. It had taken several painful moments to get the blond to uncurl from his
protective huddle and reign in the Dark as it merrily shoved everything but him back
to a radius of about thirty feet. Mason was only grateful that the paranormal
incident hadn't attracted every mage in the city. He had hustled them around the
corner as a crowd of confused people wondered to themselves about earth quakes and
pondered the set of bent street lamps around them. Mason counted it a small blessing
that the Dark didn't really qualify as magic to most common means of detection.

He looked around as he tried to answer Sydney's petulant question, worried that
something might still try to interfere. // I have proof. Well, I have memories of
proof. They may be enough to get an interview. From there we shall see. Maybe we'll
try the French Embassy next, if this one doesn't work. We could always send a
message to Vincent and have him vouch for us. //

//Vincent? He's still alive? //

Sydney sounded less than entertained at the idea. The fact that the blond could hold
a petty grudge against someone for 200+ years really should have come as no suprise.
Mason smiled instead and pulled his mage down the busy sidewalk.

//He's the one who helped me get to you. We probably owe him. //

// He's still a vampire. // His mage stubbornly groused.

Mason didn't bother to reply, too delighted by the sight of the marines stationed
behind the sturdy looking gate to dissagree. The compound looked very much like the
other large estates near by. A large, blocky, concrete exterior enclosed an inner
bailey for various VIP vehicles and the main enterance. As he pulled Sydney closer
he noted the soldiers staring at him with marked interest. With his perfectly
ordinary brown hair grown back, and the shy blond peeking around from behing his
shoulder, he knew he stood out in the crowds of asians. Clearing his throat he
wondered if he could still remember how to speak coherent English after over a year
of nothing but Chinese.

"Excuse me?" He tried. Grateful to hear something that sounded right. "I'm, I mean
_we're_ here to, um, well... I lost my passport a while ago, and I was hoping I
could get some help getting back to Maryland."

"What's your name, son?" The older of the two marines waved him in.

"Mason Donnelly." He saw the look that they exchanged and hesistated on the
threshold. "Why, is that a problem?" Sydney tensed at his back, so attuned to his
worries that he was already prepared for the worst. He squeezed the mage's hand
gently, warning him to keep it together.

"Donnely you said?" The one with the mustache looked him over a second time. "People
here had almost given you up for dead, kid. Your wallet found its way to us seven
months ago complements of the city morgue. We had the local police poking in the
river for you."

"I'm not dead." Mason replied, and then felt stupid. The reality was both far too
complicated, and far too unbelieveable to explain.

"Well obviously. Going to be a hell of a shock to the embassador though, I think he
already wrote your family." The soldier sighed. "Who's your friend?"

"Um. Simon. He's with me. Can he come in?" Mason couldn't explain his sudden lie.
It simply came out that way. He hushed his partner's confused impulse as he tugged
him along after him into the courtyard. There was no reason why anyone alive ought
to recognize his mage's name after six hundred years being dead, but somehow he felt
better for the subterfuge.

"Don't see why not. He looks harmless enough. He lost too? I don't remember hearing
about any missing kids named Simon." The man signaled for a replacement from the
guard house and lead them up the stairs.

"I don't know that there is anyone who would have been able to, report him that is."
He hedged, giving Sydney a warning squeeze as the blond reacted to the sharp slam of
a door behind them.

"Come on, the secretaries will know what to do with you both, and if they don't, the
embassador will."

"Thanks." Mason murmured. He couldn't help but be thrown by the carpet and western
look to the building's interior. They passed a large lobby area with lines of
people seeking Visas and the like. Security forces stood at the next set of doors
blocking access to the crowd. They managed to pass through behind their escort
without comment. The next hallway was even nicer than the former ones. He couldn't
help but feel scruffy by comparison.

The other guard must have radioed ahead, because the set of polished doors at the
end of the hall opened to greet them. A disorienting flurry of affectionate pats and
questions later, Mason found himself pushed onto a couch, his hand still firmly
around his blond's arm. For his part, Sydney wasn't uttering a word, either too
stunned by the welcome, or too busy trying to make the Dark behave to complain.

// Tea? // He prompted the blonde when his mage only stared blankly at the mug being
offered. // Go on, take it. // Mason felt marginally more confident that Sydney
wouldn't bolt when the mage's hands wrapped slowly around the drink. The last thing
he needed when talking to the embassador was for Sydney to have a fit of nerves.

// I'm allright, I think. // The cultist offered him a weak smile. // Just... I wish
to hell they'd stop touching me. I get confused enough in this world without having
to constantly wonder who's thoughts are mine, and whose are someone elses.//

Mason didn't have the heart to tell him that his current look, somehow encompassing
both 'lost puppy' and 'underfed waif', was only going to garner him more of the
unwanted affection than usual. Still, he managed to interrupt one of the kindly
secretaries before she could ruffle his partner's hair a second time.

"If you don't mind, he's a little shy of strangers."

"He's so quiet though." She took the hint, settling for offering Sydney a blanket
instead. "Does he ever talk?"

"He doesn't speak much English." Mason shrugged. "I think his parents died before
they could teach him much." The white lie was worth it for the look his mage gave
him.

// What the hell are you doing? //

// Getting you a free pass into the USA, be quiet for a bit and let me do the
talking, alright? //

// This is rediculous. //

"The poor dear! All he knows is Chinese? Where ever did you find him?"

Mason continued to ignore his mage's incredulous mental outbursts as he deftly wove
his tale of the poor little orphaned American in the deep jungles of China for his
astounded audience. Somewhere in the middle of his made-up history, he saw an
official looking man settle in to his desk, listening with interest. He wrapped up
with a simple,"...So I thought, since he dosen't remember anything about his real
family, I could bring him home with me. He obviously doesn't belong here, and I know
my family would agree to take him in, since he has none of his own."

"And you're sure he's American? He wasn't born here?" The embassador rubbed his
chin. "I don't see why the government would protest over someone obviously
western-born being exported, so I don't know that it'll matter, but we'll have to
look into it."

"Yessir." Mason was willing to bet any amount of money that 'Simon's' fictitious
missonary parents would never be found.

// That was the most pathetic lie I've ever heard. //

// Hush, whelp. //

//It was so bad that they'll probably believe every word. // Sydney continued
morosely. // Ah well, it's easy enough to remember, at any rate. If it works, that
is. //

// It will. Trust me. // Mason offered silent reassurance along with his words. //
But it'd be a big help if you can manage avoid anything magical for the next few
days. Things get a lot more complicated for mages. //

// I'll try. //

Looking over at the lines of strain already forming at the edge of Sydney's mouth,
Mason wondered how likely it was that they'd be able to keep to the resolution.

*****

lunar 6:03 PM

Tuesday, November 16, 2004

 

*zack ficbit*
(barrettes take 3)

"You. Major, whoever you are. I wish to speak to Sephiroth." Hojo stalked through the door to their office like the harbinger of bad news he usually was. Zack looked up and squelched his immediate disgust.

The hunched little man was wearing a lab coat that looked to have gone several days without a proper laundering, and the rest of him wasn't that much better. More annoying was the fact that the man _had_ to know his name by now, so his feigned ignorance was just meant to be insulting.

Zack offered the man a look of bored disinterest that he had carefully copied from Heidegger’s more annoying secretaries before turning back to his PC screen to continue his game of solitaire. "The general is busy at the moment. Do you have an appointment?"

"I am Dr. Hojo, chief of scientific research for Shinra, you simian excuse for a secretary, I don't need an appointment to speak with him."

"The general explicitly asked to not be disturbed for the morning, doctor. Perhaps you should leave a message." If he had had gum handy, he would have blown bubbles just to piss the man off. As it was, his endless computer games seemed to be doing the trick nicely.

The sad thing was he had been having a productive morning until the little leach had shown up. Zack didn't want to be caught doing real work with the scientist around, it would spoil the carefully cultivated image of 'useless slacker' he had been cultivating for the man.

Idly, he wondered if Sephiroth was really busy, or just catnapping behind the closed door. He hadn't said explicitly not to be interrupted, but hadn't been very chatty all morning. Maybe his friend had known Hojo would be coming, and was justifiably hiding from the annoyance. That was fine with Zack. He loved tormenting the greaser.

"I don't want to leave a message." Hojo looked almost serpentine when he got pissed, serpentine and blotchy. He looked scary, sure, but not exactly intimidating. The little man banged on Zack's desk, rattling his cup full of novelty pencils. "I want to see him immediately!"

Moving to let himself in, Hojo was easily blocked when Zack stood up and shifted two steps to the left, putting himself between the geek and the door. "I'm sorry sir; I really can't let you do that."

"Don't cross me, Thompson. I really can make your life a living hell." Hojo crossed his arms, and glared. In that at least, the scientist was definitely telling the truth. Zack had run-ins with the man before. It still wasn't going to stop him though.

He smiled sweetly just the same. "I'd rather you didn't?"

Hojo only grumbled, "I bet he isn't even in there. When was the last time you saw him?"

"Yesterday?" Zack played for stupid all it was worth. It was even true in a sense; he hadn't actually _seen_ Sephiroth all morning. He had gotten in at his usual -late- time, and chosen to call rather than poke his head in and be nosy. As Sephiroth hadn't emerged yet for a refill on his coffee or to be generally sociable, for all he knew the man really was sleeping behind his desk. "Definitely yesterday." He nodded thoughtfully.

"Moron." The scientist rubbed his forehead before resuming his glare. "I really wo-" Zack was just settling back in his chair as the pause got his attention, glancing over, he was pleasantly surprised to see Hojo's face. The man was floored about something, but for a moment he wasn't sure what.

Looking down he checked that he was indeed wearing a uniform today. "What, do I have coffee stains or something?"

"You-" Hojo just continued to stare at him, alarmed.

"Me?" Zack blinked, still checking himself over; curious as to what about him would throw the oily scientist for a loop. "What?"

"What the hell do you have in your hair, SOLDIER?" The idea of having Hojo suddenly looming in his face was a nasty one. Zack inadvertently leaned back in his chair. The scientist only moved closer to investigate. "They have little moogles on them!"

"They do?" He patted his head, having completely forgotten about his non-standard accessorizing during the quiet week. "Oh yeah. Well the ones on the other side have chocobos on them," He tilted his head to show off the other pair he was wearing. Some how his calm acceptance only seemed to perplex Hojo more. Zack decided to ham it up for fun. "Aren't they cute? I think they're great."

"You do?" The scientist was tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Tell me Major, when was your last psych evaluation?"

"Excuse me?" Zack blinked, getting a sudden moment of foreboding. "Um, a year ago at least."

"And how did they find you?" The man's tone was oily.

"As brilliant as ever." He couldn't help but smirk.

Hojo looked positively _interested_ which was never a good sign. "Well I think you're due for another one, SOLDIER. One can't be too careful these days. Abnormalities can show themselves in all sorts of symptoms. I should make an appointment soon, if I were you. Point of fact, why don't I mention it to the psychologists on my way back to my lab, since Sephiroth is too busy to see me at the moment."

Zack refra