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axels-corner · 3 years

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Fiction into Reality (Sad Ending)

Warnings: Major character death

Summary: It was a normal game of dungeons until things start going of the rails and it does in fact get worse.

characters: Sophie Foster, Dex Diznee, Stina Heks,Biana Vackar, Councillor Oralie, Councillor Bronte, Minor Fintan Pyren, Minor Councillor Zarina, Minor Councillor Darek, Mentioned Councillor Alina, Mentioned Councillor Noland, Mentioned Wylie Endall

Authors note: Hi, I took a small kinda hiatus but I’m kinda back (not sure how often I’ll be posting) but I had an idea and I had to write it, I hope you enjoy. I might make a happy ending where the person doesn’t die. Also this is not proofread or edited.

“Only one of us will make it out of this.” She said

“I know” the other girl responded as the light fades from the first girl's eyes.

“No!” Biana screamed in a shrill voice full of pain and-

“Wow, you guys really get into the game.” Stina remarked. Sophie lifted her head, and went to respond, when Bronte who was the DM cut her off before an argument could break out. Though they weren't as hostile with each other as before arguments could still get out of hand.

“Ms. Foster please roll your final save.” Sophie picked up the dice and rolled it. It rolls around and finally settles on a 19.

“NO!” Biana screamed the two immediately back into character, as Stina rolls her eyes, and Dex walks back into the living room with popcorn with Oralie watching from the kitchen. Wylie was doing father son bonding with his dad, so the group had decided to play dungeons and dragons, and roped Bronte into being the DM. Suddenly then Zarinna burst through the door, with Noland following a second later.

“We need your help!” Zarina exclaims as best she could out of breath. Oralie stood up straight snapping into business mode as she stepped into the living room.

“We were in the Seat of Eminence planning when the next Peace Summit to fix the treaty with the Trolls and Dwarves was going to be when the Neverseen attacked. They have a signal blocker so all communicators are down, Alina and Darek are seriously injured. Where barley holding them we need your help.”

“Let's go.” Oralie said holding up the leaping crystal that lead to her counselor room in the Seat of Eminence.”

“Let's split up,” Bronte suggests after the leap was finished. “Me, Oralie, Lady Foster, and Lady Vacker will go one way while the rest of you go the other way, hopefully this way we can counter them, and catch them off guard giving us the jump on them.” everyone nodded in agreement. Bronte's group went first, once both groups were in place the signal was given. The next few minutes was a blur of adrenaline and pain for every soul involved. Though the fighting wasn't the devastating part. Noone knows how it happened but they all got caught except for one.

“Here's the thing is I didn't want to kill you all, but you give me no choice, we'll start with the perfect pink princess adored by the people.” He raised his hand but unknown to him Sophie had gotten away and had been working on freeing Bronte and the others. Without thinking she jumped at Fintan attempting to grab the knife but he saw her at the last minute lifting his arm, and slashing...

This gave Bronte enough time to arrest Fintan, while Biana, Stina, and Dex ran over to Sophie.

“C'mon Fos-Bos you can't die on us.” Biana cryed the four councilors stood behind the four teenagers knowing it was to late. Sophie lifted her head muttering

“It'll be okay B.” Then closed her eyes for the last time.

It had been two weeks since Sophie had died and everyone involved was still processing it. Today was the day of her wanderling planting. Oralie was sitting in the fiend when Bronte joined her on the grassy hill.

“Hey,” he says, Oralie nods in response. He puts his arm around her shoulder “It'll be okay, I promise. It might not happen immediately, but we'll get through this.” Oralie while still looking down at the grass said “It should've been me.” Bronte looks at her with a furrowed eyebrow,

“What do you mean?” Oralie looks up at him while still avoiding his eye's and says,

“The knife was meant for me but he stabbed her instead, she was just a kid that got dragged into an adult war.”

“I know,” he says “and it never should've happened but she wouldn't have wanted us to give up.” Oralie nods, and Bronte stands up holding a hand out that she takes to pull her up. They start walking towards the service.

“We'll get through this.” he says “Together.” Oralie nods and whispers

“Yeah, together.”

#councillor Oralie #councillor bronte #sophie foster #kotlc sophie #Biana Vacker #kotlc biana #dex dizznee #kotlc dex #Stina #kotlc stina #my writing #KOTLC fanfiction #i nearly cried writing the death scene and aftermath

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wafflebloggies · 4 years

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A Favourite Idea

Figment, light as a feather in the updraft, half-bounced and half-fluttered across the maze of beams in the workshop’s high vaulted roof until he reached the middle.

If anyone below had happened to look up, they would have seen a wide, airy warehouse ceiling, criss-crossed with beams and strong gunmetal-gray supports. They might also have seen a scrap of yellow, a hint of chrome, or a suspicion of sweatpants. Nobody looked up, so nobody did.

The Captain sat on a central span with his legs crossed, his back against the top of the centre-most column. At floor level, each column was a handy storage-post for something or the other, hanging tools, shelves, blueprints on pinboards. Up here, there was nothing but patchy paint and dust, and the Captain, chin propped on his hand, watching the ground below.

It seemed rude to just plonk himself down right next to him, so Figment parked himself a few feet from his side- just close enough to be convenient for conversational purposes- and cleared his throat politely.

“Hek-hempf.”

No response. Figment edged a couple of inches closer, and coughed again, but the Captain seemed to be set on watching the workshop floor, without much expression beyond a small irritable crease at the top of his nose. Figment tried to follow his gaze, but he couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary down below. Only Blair, working, shirtsleeves rolled up amidst the chaos, buried up to his elbows in the Dream Machine’s complex workings, and Alan on the old couch, his laptop on his knees, cross-legged in an attitude pretty similar to the Captain’s. As Figment watched, Alan looked up from his screen and said something- unintelligible, from this distance- and Blair pulled his head out of the tangle of machinery and laughed.

Figment smiled, bright and wide, because seeing people happy made him happy, and seeing Blair happy was best of all. Then he noticed that the furrow at the top of the Captain’s nose had deepened, turning into a Definite Scrunch.

Well, if the Captain needed cheering up, Figment had the perfect thing. The little dragon scooched another inch closer, coughed a third time, and began-

“Hey, Captain, what lies at the bottom of the sea and shivers?”

“What does he think he’s doing?”

Figment blinked and shook his head. “No, you’re supposed to say ‘I don’t know, Figment, what lies at the-’”

“It’d drive me crazy, someone sucking up to me like that.” The Captain waved a hand. “It’s so obvious- look at them! He follows the Dreamfinder around like some kinda… lost puppy. I mean, doesn’t he have any standards?”

“Uh…” Figment, watching the two humans below, tapped his two index claws together, making a blunt, uneasy little noise. “I don’t think he’s-”

“It’s so transparent. Honestly, Figment, it’s pathetic.”

Figment’s big, luminous eyes looked troubled. If he felt like it- and honestly, right now, he did- he could drop down out of the dusty rafters, free as air, and curl round Blair’s shoulders. He could tell Blair his awesome joke, and Blair would probably think it was a riot. It occurred to him, vaguely, that for some reason the Captain didn’t have the same sort of freedom, and not just because he was bigger and human-shaped and would knock Alan flat if he tried landing on top of him. No, it was part of the whole Thing that had Blair so worried. The Thing that Figment wanted to understand… and help with, if he could.

The Captain was a spark, just like Figment. Figment felt that this should mean that there were things that they could talk about between them, things that maybe the Captain found hard to discuss with Alan. This seemed even more likely to him because, from what he’d seen lately, the Captain and Alan didn’t really talk. The Captain demanded things, usually sounding more like he was telling off an irritating house-pet than anything else, and Alan mumbled monotone agreement. As far as Figment could tell, it wasn’t really an open exchange of ideas.

“Is this… because Alan isn’t helping with your show?”

“It has nothing to do with Alan not helping with-” The Captain looked as if he was trying to swallow a kiwi whole. “-with our show. Just because he doesn’t understand the meaning of a commitment-”

Figment craned his long neck over the edge of the beam, looking closer, trying to confirm for himself what the Captain was studying so intently. Nothing stood out to him, so he scratched his horns, scootched a bit closer still and tried to sit himself cross-legged like the Captain, in case that helped his point of view, and began again.

“Come on. What’s up, Captain?”

“Us,” said the Captain, in a distracted voice.

“I meant-” started Figment, but before he could finish the Captain looked right at him, as if he’d only just realised he was there.

“What’s the first thing you heard him say?”

“Huh?”

“The Dreamfinder. The first thing you ever heard.”

“Oh!” Figment cheered up immediately, beaming happily at the memory. “Well, he didn’t say it out loud, but he thought, ‘I’m gonna make a friend!’ And then he did. And then, when he needed me, he found that memory, and I was right there with it! The first thing he actually said was ‘Oh, good Lord,” but the actual, factual, first thought… that was the thought that turned into me!”

“’I’m going to make a friend,’” repeated the Captain.

“Yep-yep! I’m his spark- his favourite idea. You know- just like you’re Alan’s!”

The Captain made a noise like a cough with a strangled huff in it. Figment’s smile fell a little, as he sensed that while his answer had been true, it hadn’t been very welcome.

“What about you, Captain? What was Alan’s idea?”

The Captain stood up, suddenly enough that Figment flinched and slid off the beam. Righting himself in the air, the little dragon looked up at him, alarmed.

“’Please do what I can’t,”’ he parroted, somehow managing to sound sing-song and flat at the same time.

“Huh?”

“Favourite idea, ppff, right. I’m not here to be his friend, he didn’t-” He stared downwards, a hitch of distaste at the corner of his silvery lip. “He didn’t make me for that, he made me because he needs me to do all the stuff he can’t do. At the end of the day, he’s not a superhero, he’s not a- a super-successful Shorty-winning Youtube sensation, he’s just some guy! He’s just- he’s just human!”

Figment thought. “Blair’s the Dreamfinder, and a Portal Master,” he said, “and the Last Keeper of the Dreamport- or he will be, when we find it! But… he’s human, too. I don’t know that there’s any just about it, Captain.”

“Ugh,” said the Captain, and it sounded like an ugh right from the depths of his soul. “Humans, they’re so… glitchy. Do you have any idea what it’s like to be in that body? I was in it for less than an hour and I basically wanted to explode! When Alan even thinks about talking to a room full of people, his entire body tries to kill him so he doesn’t have to do it. You wouldn’t believe how much he sweats, and his stomach goes crazy, and it’s like his throat gets really-” A hard swallow. “The point is, Alan can’t stand in front of an audience or, or a camera and say stuff… even if he wrote it! But someone has to. I have to- I have to do what he can’t!”

“Sure, but-” said Figment, but the Captain wasn’t done.

“So if he can’t do all that stuff, the least he can do is…” He sat back, tucked a hand under his chin again, grumpily, and waved the other in a vague, dismissive manner. “You know… the stuff I don’t want to. Without getting an attitude about it!”

Figment cocked his head. It seemed to him that there were an awful lot of things the Captain didn’t want to do, all the way across the spectrum of tasks from fetching snacks to intensive editing, scriptwriting, musical composition, finances, web administration, correspondence, and his own laundry. He thought about saying something to the point, but right when he opened his mouth, the Captain looked at him again, hiking an eyebrow as whatever train of thought he’d been following pulled laboriously to an end. Not a great end, if the look on his face was anything to go by. Just for a moment, in fact, he looked just as tired as Alan.

“A nervous wreck,” he said, and then- as he seemed more and more inclined to do, lately- he fizzled into a vaguely Captain-shaped array of bright cubes that spread and spilled away upwards, vanishing into thin air.

Left alone in the rafters, Figment sighed, fidgeting uneasily with the ends of his two-spiked tail.

“Well… I thought it was funny.”

#figment #figment the dragon #captain disillusion #alan amelik #The Dream Team #dream team #the dreamfinder #my writes

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jolienjoyswriting · 5 years

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Mortem In Contumeliam FFVI, Ch. III

Chapter 3 of "Mortem In Contumeliam Final Fantasy VI," a Final Fantasy VI fan fiction story.

More character-building? More character-building. Fun fact: this chapter originally had more of a shopping scene, as well as something else, but when the story went wildly off-the-rails, I axed that part of things. I might release it as an extra chapter, though… even though a later chapter kind of has the same narrative…

Word count: 4,494 – Character count: 26,015 Originally written: July 17th to July 18th, 2019

Once things settle town, the Imperial Army continues forward, first to Nikeah, then to their landing zone.

Final Fantasy VI, Wedge, Biggs, and related characters, scenarios, and properties created by Square Soft, Inc. and © Square Enix Co, Ltd.

[ ← Prev. Chapter | Next Chapter → ]

“Hey, partner… How’s it goin’?”

Half-a-day after leaping into the sea to save a fellow soldier, Biggs had awoken in a downstairs room of the ship, confused and sore. When the medics explained what had happened, he immediately asked if Jessie was alright. The news wasn’t great… but, considering all that she lost was an eye, it could have been worse. However… “Jessie is… in shock, I think.” The redheaded soldier hadn’t said a word since she’d awoken.

“Don’t worry,” Wedge said from his standing position between the two cots, “I know how to get cute girls talkin’! But, Biggs? I asked you a question, pal!” The soldier who was laying there gave a weak chuckle. He was bandaged around the head, his right shoulder, and one of his arms was in a sling. There may have been more, but that was all that could be seen since the rest of his body was covered in a light sheet. “Aside from contributing to Jessie’s shock… I guess I’m alright?” Biggs answered. “I’m a little sore from everything… but, the medics say I’ll be fighting fit by the time we arrive.” “Yeah, you look pretty good for a guy who got munched on by sea demons!” The soldier chuckled… then, he sighed. “Tell Jessie that I’m sorry about her eye…” “Why? Was it your fault?” He didn’t respond to that… “Look,” Wedge started, “it probably wasn’t your fault. We were sleeping when she went in the water! Anything we could’ve done, we couldn’t’ve done faster than we did!” “That… was a very confusing statement,” Biggs flatly responded. “Need me to rephrase it?” “No, I get it,” he chuckled.

“Anyway, since you’re alright, I expect you to get back on the night watch, soon! It gets pretty lonely, just walkin’ around by myself. You know?” Wedge gave a comforting smile. Biggs gave one of his own. “Sure thing. Now, go give Jessie some attention. I know you want to.” “Jealous?” The standing soldier grinned. A second later, his friend waved him away. “Go bother Jessie, oddball.” “Yes, Sir!”

Wedge walked away with a “dummy” salute and staggered step – both of which made his bedridden friend chuckle. A few steps later, he was kneeling in front of the redheaded girl who was laying on the next cot over. His smile faded as he examined the damages and, as he looked on… the difference between Jessie and Biggs’ injuries became very apparent. Jessie’s head was bandaged from her cranium down to her neck and shoulder, a swath of gauze covering her left eye and hiding it from sight. She had either kicked her sheet off or the doctor hadn’t covered her, so it was easy for Wedge to notice that her entire body was wrapped up to varying degrees – both arms, one leg, her waist, sides, and chest all covered in strips and wraps of all sizes. Additionally, a lot of those looked in need of change, small patches of deep crimson having bled through. But, he wasn’t concerned with those injuries…

“Hey, Red…” He called to the lady who was blankly staring off into space. “Miss me?” He waited for a response before continuing. “I missed you,” he said, smiling at her. “We had a good talk, the other night, huh?” Again, he waited for a response. Unfortunately, she didn’t seem interested… “I’m looking forward to hitting the pub in Nikeah with you! Hey, there may even be a show, when we get there! That’s somethin’ to look forward to, right?” He offered a friendly laugh. When she continued to just stare, though…

“C’mon, don’t give me the silent treatment…” he sighed, his smile finally fading. “Look, I’m sorry I wasn’t there to pull you outta the drink, alright? I was gonna jump in and grab you, but Biggs did it, first!” Still, she refused to even acknowledge his presence. “How did you even end up in there, anyway? I heard some fish story, and…” He trailed off… Nothing he was saying seemed to get through to her. For some reason… that started to make him feel angry.

“You know, I came down here, specifically, to visit you ‘n Biggs!” he said in a raised voice. “The least you could do is say ‘hello!’” But, when even that didn’t get a response… “What the hell’s wrong with you?! Snap out of it, stupid!” Biggs shot up with a start, wincing as the more severe of his injuries told him what a bad idea that was. He gave a couple of blinks, then, before staring at his partner severely chew his new friend out.

“So, fine! You fell in the water! It happens to the best of us! And, yeah, alright! The fangly fish got ya! Could’a happened to anyone! They got one of your eyes as a trophy? So? You’ve still got one pretty, green eye, don’t you?! And, oh, let’s not forget… you’re still alive! Yeah! You’re still freaking alive, aren’t ya? And… I bet you’ll be ready for duty before we even hit town! But, no. Nooo. You don’t care about any of that. You just wanna lay here like a useless lump, and… and.. I dunno, feel sorry for yourself? Why? Because, you got bushwhacked by some sushi? Because, you lost an eye to some of the most dangerous creatures in the world? Because, you have to take an impromptu vacation from your daily duties on the ship? What?”

During the tirade, Jessie hadn’t moved or even blinked her good eye. It wasn’t until the furious soldier stopped talking that something happened…

“J… Jessie?” Something was forming in her visible eye… Not only that, but her previously-blank expression was giving way to something… horrible. A moment later… “Oh, shi–” Jessie scowled and started crying!

“Wai– wait-wait-wait, h-hang on!” Wedge backpedaled. “I– I didn’t mean it! I just–” Just as suddenly as she’d started crying, though… “Szak–!” She’d reached over and punched the angry soldier right in the gut!

“You jerk!!” she shouted, her tears immediately vanishing as she furiously glared from the bed. “You’re lucky I’m in such bad shape, or I’d give you something to cry about!!” Just like that, she rolled over with a whiff, pulled her pillow out from under her head, then hid her face, disinterested in anything that stupid-jerk-of-a-soldier had to say.

“On the bright side…” Wedge wheezed as he shuffled back over to Biggs’ side, “at least she’s– hek– not zonked out, anymore…” “I’m… not sure if I should ask if you’re alright,” his partner said with a grimace, “or just call you an idiot.” “Yeesss,” the other soldier huffed with a pained grin. There was a pause, then his friend decided to ask, “Are you going to be okay?” Wedge just gave an acknowledging noise and nodded. Tears were welling up in his eyes and, all-and-all, he looked worse off than either of the injured soldiers, somehow. Jessie did not “hit like a girl…” “Eat some crackers,” Biggs said with a grin as he lay back down. “You’ll be fine.” “Okay…” was the response he got, his partner’s voice barely above a whisper. With that, he shuffled out of the impromptu medical ward.

“You’ll have to forgive my friend.” The male soldier looked over at his partner-in-injuries. “He’s an idiot.” “Thank you…” “What?” He gave a blink. “Uh, you’re welcome?” “You could have let me drown…” Jessie murmured from beneath her pillow. “Maybe, you should have… A soldier that can’t even swim… I’m pathetic.” “Is… that what has you so upset? That you don’t know how to swim?” She hesitated… then, she pulled her pillow away, giving an embarrassed frown and a nod. “You really shouldn’t be,” Biggs told her as he settled against his own pillow. “There are plenty of people – enlisted or otherwise – who don’t know how to swim.” That didn’t seem to get a response. So, he added… “Including Wedge.” “W… Wedge can’t swim?” the lady-soldier asked after a moment. “Nope,” was the other soldier’s reply. “I tried to teach him, but…” He chuckled as he remembered almost being drowned by his friend. “And… he was going to jump in to… retrieve… me?” she carefully worded. “He was.” Again, there was another long pause before Jessie spoke.

“How do you put up with that idiot?” she quietly asked as she hid her head, again. “One day at a time,” she heard him respond with a slight smile. There was yet another pause before she said, “Thank you.” “For what?” Biggs curiously asked. “For saving me,” she said without delay. “You already thanked me for that. But, you’re welcome, still.” “I would give you a kiss on the cheek, but…” She peeked out, grinning at him before saying, “I spent what little energy I had socking that moron.” “If I had 5 Gil for every time I heard that…”

The days rolled on and the two soldiers’ recovery quickly reached its end. Before long, Biggs was joining Wedge for night duty, just like before. However… “Aw, c’mon! I said I was sorry!” Their new friend, Jessie, didn’t seem to want anything to do with the latter.

“Jessie! Seriously!” Wedge followed the soldier around, one afternoon, his hands clasped and a pleading look on his face as she actively avoided him. He was absolutely desperate to get her attention. “Stop giving me the cold shoulder, already!” he half-begged. “I’m sorry!” “You know, that’s not going to work,” Biggs, who had been following them both, told his partner. “Leave her alone, for a while.” “B– but–!” the shorter soldier whined. “We’re half-a-day from Nikeah! We had plans!” “No, you ‘had plans’ for her,” his partner corrected. “Clearly, she’s no longer interested.” “But…” Wedge looked down at the deck, letting his hands drop. “That’s not fair…” “Life’s not fair!” He winced, then, as he heard a feminine voice strongly shout at him. When he looked up and noticed Jessie looking right at him, he was almost happy… at least, until she started tearing him a new one, verbally.

“Sometimes, plans change! Sometimes, friends stop talking! Sometimes, someone loses an eye!” she sharply told him, drawing a wince from the other soldier. “Life! Is not! Fair! So, put your big boy pants on, build a bridge, and get over it! The sooner you get your mind back on the mission, the better! You’re an imperial soldier, so act like one!” She paused… then, she looked over at Biggs and gave a calm nod. “Biggs.” “Jessie.” “B… but, what about Weeedge…?” the shorter soldier whimpered. When Jessie walked away, he just slumped, staring at the deck, again. “There’s plenty of fish in the sea,” Biggs told him… before immediately saying, “er, I mean–” “When you get tossed off a chocobo,” Wedge quietly murmured, “you pick yourself up…” He straightened up. “You dust yourself off…” Then, he raised his fists, taking a determined pose. “And, you hop right back on that bird and make it your bitch! Jessie, h– hang on!!” “That’s not what–” His partner was about to correct him… but, he was already gone. “Alright, then.”

The next day, the ship docked at Nikeah. General Christophe suggested that they resupply the ship, and the commander passed down the order. Once the ship was restocked with dry goods and vital items, the general suggested spending the rest of the day there in the town. All the men cheered for Leo, and many offered to buy him a drink or take him out… but, he declined, wanting to help the civilian crew take inventory. With that, the soldiers headed into town and, the following day, were back out at sea… with a few new items… and, experiences.

“You shouldn’t wear that cape over your uniform. Actually, you shouldn’t wear that cape with your uniform…” “Why-the-heck-not?” Wedge asked with a grin. “Jealous?” The shorter of the two soldiers spun around, making their new purchase rustle and fan. “Because…” Biggs started, his eyes focused on that bright-white, back-length cloak around his partner’s shoulders, “number one: it doesn’t go with your armor–” “Since when did you become the fashion militia?” his partner chuckled. “And, two…” The taller man grinned. “That’s cloak is cut for a woman’s body.” “Whaaaaat? Get out.” He chuckled. “That kid told me I looked good in it!” “You look–” “You look like a fruit.” Both soldiers gave a blink, then looked over to the stairway. Another soldier had come down to the lower decks, where they were, and interjected their thoughts into the conversation.

“The juicy kind?” Wedge asked with a grin. “The kind you eat with a knife…” the soldier with red hair sighed as she walked away from the two. “Hey-hey-hey, wait a second, Jessie!” But, she had very little interest in sticking around. It seemed like she had someplace to be. And, as Wedge chased after her, Biggs just shook his head and sighed… That man has some serious focus problems…

After two more days of sailing, the ship finally came to a stop a knee’s depth from the shore. The commander called to the troops and crew, then told them of the upcoming plans… “We’re to march from here, down the shore, and to the isthmus–” “There’s that word again!” Wedge quietly told Biggs, getting an elbow as a response. “– where we’ll set up a barricade. If things go badly with the Domans, they’ll have nowhere to run and be forced into combat! We’ll have the advantage!” “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” said the stern voice of General Leo Christophe, who was standing right next to the commander. “R-right, Sir! In any case, start unloading the ship! You two!” Two cadets stood at attention. “Sir!” “You’re leading the way. Help load the first wagon, then fire up some Magitek Armor to pull it with. You two!” he called to another pair of soldiers. “Middle wagon. And, you two…” “Sir!” Both Biggs and Wedge stood at-attention. “Rear wagon duty! Keep your eyes peeled for lookouts from Doma. If you see any, shout it out! That goes for the rest of you, too! Now, the general and I will head out on our own to see if we can’t parlay with the enemy. If things go well, we’ll be allies with Doma before dinner! And, if not? Well, prepare for combat! Now… get to work. Dismissed!” The entire room barked a unified “Sir!” before splitting up to do their various duties.

“This is it…” Biggs said as he and Wedge moved a heavy box of mechanical parts onto a wagon, a short while later. “We’re in enemy territory… preparing for war.” “Eh, it might not come to that,” his partner said between strained groans. “There’s always the chance that it won’t… but – whuff.” The taller soldier grunted, he and his friend setting the box on the wagon. “But,” he continued as they retrieved another box, “there’s always the chance that it will.” “Naturally!” Biggs hummed… “You seem rather chipper. What’s going on with you?” “Remember that pendant I bought in Nikeah? The one you said Jessie wouldn’t like?” “Yeah…? Hup!” “Well!” Wedge brightly smiled as they grabbed a third box. “I offered it to her… then, she threatened to shove it down my throat! But – ah, geez, are these getting heavier…?” “Work through the fatigue,” the other man said. “What happened, next?” “So, she practically spat on the pendant, but… she said she’d forgive me if I let her try on my fancy, new cape.” “I… think I see where this is going,” Biggs commented, suddenly noticing that his companion wasn’t wearing that cape, anymore. “But, go on.” “So, I take it off, then she tries it on… Then… she asks me, ‘how much did you pay for this cheap piece of scrap?’” “How much did you pay, anyway?” he grunted as the third box hit the wagon. “5,000 Gil,” Wedge told him as they grabbed the last big box. “Five-thousand?! And, I thought one-thousand six-hundred Gil was too much for a spear – ah, wait. Where did you even get that kind of money? Our paychecks aren’t that good.” “Emergency funds,” was the other soldier’s answer. “Uh… alright. Anyway… is there more to the story, or…?”

“So, I tell her, ‘5,000 Gil.’ She tells me I got ripped off, then offers me half-as-much for it. I tell her– hnngh!” He paused, helping his friend load the last big box, then they pushed the stacks toward the front of the cart. “I tell her,” he huffed, “‘eh, just keep it.’ ‘Why?’ she snaps. ‘Because, it’s cheap?’ ‘No,’ I say back, ‘because… I feel bad about what I said. And, I’m sorry for your eye.’” “And, that worked?” “Mm…” He tossed his head from-side-to-side. “Yes-and-no? I mean, I got her to laugh and she did keep the cape… but, I think what did it was when I pulled my helmet off and offered her one of my eyes.” Biggs gave a sharp blink before saying, “That– what… what…?” “That’s what she said!” Wedge laughed. “But, when I looked her in the eye and really… really apologized…? I guess she finally gave in, then laughed… then, she smiled and said she’d think about forgiving me. ‘But, it’s going to take time,’ she said.” “Told you.” He offered a grin. “Oh… shut up and help me load the rest of these boxes. Heh.” Biggs returned the gesture. The two then re-focused on loading crates onto the wagon.

“Man, you’d think Doc Cid would make these things quieter…”

Later that day, Wedge and Biggs found themselves in a caravan of troops. As ordered, they brought up the rear, following behind two more wagons and, as-ordered, they operated two of the six Magitek Powered Anti-Personnel Armor units, using the power of the dragon-like mechs to pull the fully-loaded carts along the grass-and-dirt of otherwise-pristine lands.

“What do you mean?” Biggs asked his partner in a somewhat-loud voice. “Do you mean the chug of the engines? The clank of the footfalls? The rattle and squeak of the joints…?” “Yes!” Wedge answered, drawing a chuckle from his associate. “Quit bellyaching, you two!” Both soldiers looked back toward the wagon. Standing at the front of the open storage vehicle was another brown-suit. One with red hair and… a white cape under her shoulder pads. “They do the work of ten chocobos,” Jessie shouted. “and they’re fully-loaded with the latest array of magic-powered weaponry, so be thankful!” “I am thankful!” Wedge told her. “I just wish the damn thing didn’t give me a headache every time I used it!” “You’re an Imperial Soldier!” the lady-soldier retorted. “Suck it up!”

“Jessie, can I ask you something?” Biggs asked, surprising his partner. “Shoot.” “I know you’re very passionate about your work and you enjoy being the most dominant soldier in service of the Gestahlian Empire… but, do you always have to be so… aggressive?” Jessie paused… then, she shouted back, “E-excuse me?!” “All I’m saying is that… you’re with friends, right now.” The taller man smiled back at her. “You can relax a little, if you want.” “Yeah, quit being such a hard-ass!” Wedge laughed. “Live a little!” “I…” She paused… then, she growled, “The military is my life! Mind your own business – eyes on the caravan!!” “Well, it was worth a try…” Biggs chuckled. “It’s okay, babe!” his friend called as the two turned their heads back to the front. “We both know you’re a sweetheart when you’re off-the-clock! We just have to figure out when you actually are off-the-clock!” “Pipe down!” she shouted. “Maintain silence until further notice!” “Yes, Sir!” Wedge jokingly acknowledged. “You, uh… you know she’s the same rank and either of us, right?” “Yeah… but, she likes to take control. Like, that one night we went and–” “Sh-shut up, Wedge…!”

Biggs wasn’t sure… but, he thought Jessie sounded a little… embarrassed… as she shouted at Wedge. Still, he didn’t inquire. Even if the conversation was slightly amusing, they had more important things to focus on, just then.

#fan fiction #Final Fantasy VI #Mortem In Contumeliam #commercial characters #Imperial Soldier #Wedge #Biggs #Jessie #Imperial Commander #Leo Christophe #Imperial Cadet #fantasy #slice of life

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heartslogos · 6 years

Text

seas who could sing so deep and strong [95]

Judge has half a mind to kick Punk right behind the knees to get him to shut up. Punk and Chic have been trying to get Kore to take off her suit’s hood for the past hour. Punk’s been using his Ember to increase the heat in the area as they hunt ghouls and Chic’s been doing nothing about it, he has a feeling she’s got money on some sort of outcome.

Kore, herself, he knows, is more than capable of stopping this if it really bothered her. And Kore is nothing if not stubborn and relentless in her studious adherence to her own personal standards. Judge is incredibly fucking lucky to be considered someone she’s willing to let in.

Judge isn’t going to step into this unless Kore wants him to, and she’ll let him know when she wants that. Otherwise he’s staying out of it because Judge likes to think he isn’t as much of a fool as he used to be, and only a fool would get between Kore and whatever plans she has for any unfortunate victim that crosses her path.

So Judge turns around and goes back to trying to get Midas to stop actively digging up more Grineer ghouls.

Judge is about ninety percent sure that Midas thinks that this is a game and that he wins by pulling up ghouls by the necks and bringing as many of them to Judge as possible. The problem is that Midas doesn’t kill them, he just wakes them up and annoys the hell out of them. So by the time that Midas drops them at Judge’s feet they’re mad and more than willing to take it out on the Tenno in front of them.

Ecstatic, even. As ecstatic as a Grineer ghoul could be, he supposes. He’s not so certain of their emotional range aside from unconscious and frenzied rage.

Surely there’s something in the middle, but he has no idea how he’d go about trying to figure that one out -

“Fucking void,” Chic screams, followed by the sound of a loud and wordless scream from Punk.

Judge turns around, heart pounding in his chest, followed by confusion.

Chic’s hands are fisted up in front of her as she rapidly squeezes her fingers open and shut - frustration?

Judge boggles as he watches Punk fall onto his knees, hands in the air as he screams, “Why are you like this? Who made you this way?”

“You sadistic shit,” Chic snarls.

“What? You’re right. It’s hot. I removed my hood.”

Judge’s eyes snap to Kore, who’s been leisurely following behind them while encouraging Alpha - the dog - to explore on his own. Mostly Alpha seems too nervous of the plains and the grineer popping out of the ground and has stuck against Kore’s side.

Kore’s hood is indeed off.

But she’s wearing Umbra’s scarf underneath - some of the long folds wrapped around her pink hair - and -

Judge squints, moving over to join the rest of them.

She’s wearing one of Nakak’s Excalibur masks.

Judge didn’t know that Kore knew who Nakak was, let alone that she’d be willing to buy something off of her.

Kore makes a show of looking around, idly playing with one weighted end of the black scarf, “Such a beautiful day. The sun in the sky, the breeze on your face. I should do this more often.”

And Judge knows from her tone of voice - with the way she’s laying it on thick people in the outer terminus would hear it - she’s fucking with them.

Judge bites his lip to hide his laugh as Kore flips one scarf end over her shoulder and continues to calmly walk past the two dramatic Tenno wailing on the ground.

He falls into step with her as she passes, “How’d you fit all that underneath the cowl? Isn’t yours pretty skin tight?”

“A quick jump into the void for the switch out,” Kore says.

“And the mask?”

“Alpha, the Tenno, gave it to me. One of his various dogs found it and brought it to him. I think he has about thirty of them and he’s been trying to get rid of them,” Kore says, and then tilts her head meaningfully towards him, “Because unlike some people he understands that he doesn’t need thirty of something he’ll never use and he should just get rid of it.”

“Hey,” Judge protests, “We ended up needing all those crewman hats after all.”

Kore shrugs her shoulders, walking closer to him to bump against him playfully, “Underneath this thing I can fit another mask and maybe some glasses. I could keep this going forever.”

“You shouldn’t tease them, they’re only like that because you make it so hard,” Judge points out. “If you show them your face once they’ll probably let it go after half an hour and it’ll just be normal.”

“But I tease them like this because they’re trying so hard. They’re the ones egging me on,” Kore replies. “It’s the anticipation that gets them, really.”

Judge rolls his eyes, “I almost think you like Tyl Rygor with the way you mock him so fondly.”

“Then you’re a fool,” Kore says, watching as Alpha leaves her side to investigate a shallow pool of water, short tail gently bobbing as he snuffles under his breath. Alpha turns towards them, feet tamping at the ground, ears pricked at attention, before turning back down at the water and jumping in place. “I think he likes it.”

Alpha then does something like a sneeze, shaking himself out, and coming back over to Kore and leaning against her as she walks.

“Not as much as he likes you, apparently,” Judge muses. “Is there any Raksa mixed in there? He never leaves you.”

“Maybe,” Kore says, “He’s intimidating enough when he wants to be.”

Kore’s head turns up at the same time Alpha’s ears swivel to Judge’s right.

“What?”

“Where’s Midas?”

Judge grimaces, “Void, he’s probably found another ghoul nest by now.”

He turns to the two tenno in the background, “Guys. Incoming. Are you okay?”

“She has a mask under the mask!” Punk howls, “What kind of Sisyphean torture is this?”

“Big words for such a small brain. I’m almost impressed,” Kore mutters under her breath. Judge elbows her. “I said - “

“I meant quieter, not louder,” Judge cuts her off before she can repeat it fully.

Judge can feel her smirk as she takes one glimmering step forward and is enveloped in the body of her warframe. Judge copies her a moment later, and she laughs through their private channel.

“This is right up there with mocking Tyl Rygor or beating the fuck out of Vay Hek.”

“You shouldn’t torment them like that,” Judge says, “It’s only going to come around to bite me in the ass.”

“Part of the fun,” Kore replies, “You’re at your best when you’re exasperated. I once watched you hack a Bursa in four keystrokes when you were getting annoyed by Chic and Punk arguing about an anti-Moa unit.”

“They just wouldn’t shut up about the best place to target it!”

#heartsfic #warframe #punk and chic #otp: space kids

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heartslogos · 5 years

Text

seas who could sing so deep and strong [118]

Kore feels and hears something, someone, calling out to her. She feels herself being shaken and she's awake enough to know that she’s come off seven back to back Axi grade fissure runs on Eris, four solo and three in a squad with Judge, Jude, and Joy. (Kore loathes the sheer amount of alliteration she’s surrounded in.)

There’s absolutely no reason for her to be awake. The fucking Stalker could’ve broken onto her ship again and she wouldn’t care enough to wake up. Umbra and Ordis could wipe the floor with that scum.

“What?” Kore groans, trying to pull her blanket over her head.

“Operator,” Ordis says - it must be one of the specters he’s controlling -, “Operator. Operator wake up! Operator, you said you wanted to know when there’s a bounty with Nitain.”

She did say that. Fucking Vauban sapped all her Nitain - she doesn’t even use Vauban - and she’s been scrambling to get enough together for her other equipment. She’s getting by, but not comfortably. She could always start making Nitain from her fragments but she’s short on plastids, too. And she’s not going to do what she did on Ceres on Saturn. Void, Kore still gets a sick sense of dread and nausea every time they pass Ceres on the way to Jupiter.

She logged so many damn hours on Ceres that her stats changed, bringing her Ember up to third most used of her warframes. If she’d been clever enough - instead of desperate and trying out out-pace her Argon’s half-life - she would’ve forma’d one of her weapons. It’d have been maxed again by the time she was done.

“Operator,” Ordis shakes her some more and Kore hates her past self for doing this to her.

“What time is it?” Kore asks.

“Four hundred in Earth hours,” Ordis replies promptly.

Kore’s been asleep for two damn hours.

Is it worth it?

Kore throws the blanket back, glaring at Ordis’ plain specter. She could glare at a wall and Ordis’ cameras would pick it up.

“Bounty type?”

“Hijack.”

Lovely. She can’t even bring her Nidus. Nidus has no shields.

She recently re-modded her Saryn, but she hasn’t tested the build yet. She’d rather not take her untested Saryn into a hijack mission. Kore puts her hands over her face and groans. Somewhere around her foot she feels her Djinn wriggle - a hot, smooth ticklish motion that makes her toes curl. She can feel the small puffs of its exhaust - hopefully it isn’t spitting out toxin gas in its sleep mode again - and she gives it a very gentle nudge so that it rolls away from her.

She can always take in her Ember, but she hasn’t used that frame in a while and she was also running an experimental build on it.

“Umbra?”

There’s a slight shift of shadows and Kore turns to see the warframe standing on the other side of the main fish tank, distorted through the water, but present.

“The Dragon Nikana and the Hek,” Kore says. She hears the sounds of her quarter’s doors hissing open and shut as the warframe silently goes to fetch the equipment. “Ordis.”

“Yes, Operator?” The specter helps her sit up, gently wrapping a blanket around her shoulders as she stretches her legs out, wiggling her toes.

“Hail Judge and Punk,” Kore says. If she has to be awake so do they.

“What about Tenno Chic?”

“Let her sleep,” Kore says. Kore likes Chic. Kore also respects Chic and is kind of wary of anything Chic might do if Kore wakes her up for Nitain.

“Pedestal…prime,” Kore repeats dubiously as she follows Empress around the relay. Chic was waiting for the crowd around Ki’teer to die down a little before approaching. Kore was there earlier and she did take a quick look - he had a few mods that she thought were nice but she doesn’t have the endo or funds to be upgrading them so it would just be a waste of credits - and as always he’d annoyed her with his snide commentary so she left without giving him any of his stupid ducats.

Saryn’s head nods up and down, “Pedestal prime. She’s collecting them. Void knows she’s got the funds to burn on it. Everyone has their hobbies, I suppose.”

“What makes it prime?” Kore asks, following the Empress into the Arbiter’s room. Normally the Arbiters give her general looks of caution - she used to have a higher rank here and had a falling out due some misunderstandings with Red Veil and Steel Meridian. They haven’t set a bounty on her, but that’s because Suda stepped in and kept her in good standing. Kore’s working on getting her standing back slowly, but surely. It’s tricky trying to balance four Syndicates at once.

With the Empress here none of them so much as even glance her way. It’s a relief, honestly. She should take to hanging around people with more notoriety. It’s like she becomes invisible. It’s the best.

“I think it’s made of Endo,” Empress says, handing several medallions over to one of the Arbiter’s representatives, “Or Oro. Melted down scrap prime parts. I must admit that I haven’t the faintest idea, Persephone. I don’t have one and I’ve never paid any particular attention to the ones Chic has on her Orbiter.”

The idea of the Empress not having these is baffling because Kore immediately equates the other tenno with prestige of every sort.

“You don’t?”

“I can’t afford it,” the Empress replies.

“You? You? You can’t afford it?” Kore repeats dumbly.

“One million credits on a pedestal?” the Empress says, sounding bemused, “I have too many mods to upgrade, equipment to modify, and gear to keep maintained. I have neither the inclination nor the resources to spare on a pedestal. Chic’s content with her current load outs and arsenal as they are with minor tweaks. Her business is business. I don’t begrudge her that. But for me it would be a most splendiferous waste when I could be working on something to sharpen my blade.”

The Empress pulls out one of her Krohkur, holding the blade out in front of her and making a sweeping, decisive swing.

Everyone around them takes a surreptitious step backwards and away.

The Empress gives a soft sigh, “I currently have it for viral damage.”

“Yes,” Kore says, eyeing the soft green the emanates from the blade, “I don’t run a Saryn as much anymore, but I haven’t shaken that yet.”

Despite it being more practical to maybe use radiation or puncture, Kore still keeps her weapons set to toxin or viral damage as much as possible.

“I’m thinking of altering these for increased speed and critical hits rather than power and status duration,” the Empress says, sheathing the blade. “But I do love the feeling of swinging these blades into Eidolon flesh and watching it dissolve.”

Kore knows exactly what the Empress means.

“You already strike fast as it is,” Kore says, taking the lead as they head for Simaris’ Sanctuary to pick up some extra traps, “With the amount of hits you get in, I’d think that the status duration of the toxin and viral damage wouldn’t matter as much.”

“You have a very good point,” the Empress says, “But if I would want that speed for extra critical strikes, too.”

“Are you guys having a discussion?” Punk says, into the channel. “Teach me your ways. I’m so bored.”

“Still waiting for the crowd to die down?”

“Yeah. I wish she’d just call me when she has the thing. Or she could carry it herself.”

“Joy? Be seen doing manual labor? How unfitting,” the Empress laughs.

#heartsfic #warframe #punk and chic #otp: our ribs are cages #otp: space kids

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