Final Fantasy 8, Squall Leonheart, I Walk Alone - Saliva
Author:
wolfchildblazer
Title of work: Shards of Power
Rating: PG
Fandom: Final Fantasy 8
Character: Squall Leonheart
Song and Artist: I Walk Alone by Saliva
Song Number: # 9
Disclaimer: I do not own the song, the game, or the character contain within, nor am I receiving any proceeds from this written piece.
Summary- (AU)- Well, Squall thought, he had to start somewhere.
Shards of Power
This television has a poison on its breath
This counter culture of wicked lies and death
It makes my eyes bleed every time I turn around
How will they all feel when I bring them to the ground?
And I say.
Squall shifted lightly watching the screen of the television for information on his newest target. A small ripple of boredom and disgust flooded through him as he had to wait through nine tons of news to get the information he was waiting for, this cold war, it was terrible what people did to one another. Yet, he knew as sure as the badge on his shoulder declared him a member of Balamb that all resistance would fall before his feet, it was his mission after all. He, and they were training him to be the best, to be a leader, a killer, all in one, and he would be, because that is where he belonged.
I walk for miles in this pit of danger
A place where no one follows me
I walk alone
He hated undercover work, it was tedious, but he wasn’t reckless. Still what he wouldn’t give to just challenge them all and watch them fall beneath his might. There had been numerous surges of uprising for the support of Galbaldia, the rest of the world couldn’t afford this. So they sent him as a mole, to destroy the uprising from the inside out, and destroy it completely. Squall knew these people had family had their reasons, and such, but it didn’t matter, it couldn’t matter because they dispatched him.
None, and no one could pull the job off, he was non-descriptive in all his ways. Squall was neither confrontational or memorable, just quite and skillful. His hair was a muted brown, reminiscent of hot cocoa easily forgettable, easily melded into the shadows. Eyes the color of stormy skies, shadowed and glassed over, not impenetrable, the color and soul of a lost boy. Dark colors, non descriptive style, the only thing flashy was the single necklace he wore and his weapon of choice, gunblade master, but it was too unique the ones causing the uprising applauded his skill. Squall did never seen any part of his squad from Balamb, he was too good, and so he was left alone, but that was fine, he worked best alone.
I’m sick of all these people talkin’ out their heads
I never understood a damn thing that they said
He was honest however, revealing his duplicitous nature when it came to the kill. They would mewl and beg, before explaining the views of the world. Squall would shrug unsure where they were going with such talk, his gunblade at the ready. He was to be the best, which means he was not socialized in the way of morals and thoughts. Then came the promises, the statements that he could be great under their guidance.
From words to actions never knowing what they’re about
I guess I’ll have to chew them up and spit them out
And I’ll say!
He was great, would be greater, but without their help, he was no one’s tool. Squall would swing his blade with ease and another would fall before his feet, his path paved. He never stopped to think about it, if he did then he would choke, he needed to be powerful so none could control him. Squall could not see the power of words only of actions, as whenever they tried to convince him it would only fall on deaf ears.
I walked for miles inside this pit of danger
I’ve swallowed down a thousand years of anger
The weight of the world is falling on my shoulders.
A place where no one follows me, I walk alone.
Squall frequently understood why he hated undercover missions, it was always a fight to stay true to who you were, to have to constantly interact with those that you couldn’t stand. He hated it with a passion, he wasn’t unfeeling, these missions did not succeed in making him robotic, which was the goal of his proprietors among silencing the uprising. Squall knew though if he failed in his mission, the world would fall under Galbaldia and its control. He was the only one that could save his home, but it was difficult to do alone, but he was alone for none would follow, because none could.
I’m sick of all these people talkin’ out their heads.
I never understood a damn thing that they said.
From words to actions never knowing what they’re about
I guess I’ll have to chew them up and spit them out
And I’ll say!
“Damn it.” It was a soft curse, though it could be loud for all the frustration bundled in it. Squall brushed a glove hand through sweaty fringe, blood staining his fingertips. His last few well planned strikes had a few bumps in the road, but he managed and with his identity still unknown. Still, it had been too close, there had been another, one he shouldn’t have had to silence, but he couldn’t be compromised. The radio blared in the background spewing out vile facts of this rapidly heating war. Several thousand world leaders chanting either for or against Galbaldia’s rule, some silenced on either side. He couldn’t understand it, what was the need for this war? The heavy sounding words flew over his sticky head, and angry voices paraded in his ear. Which side mattered, whose view counted, which should be followed? Squall was losing control to the mask, but he pushed against it, his will was his own as was his power. He would have to act incognito and quickly, both sides had a sense of wrongness.
I walked for miles inside this pit of danger
I’ve swallowed down a thousand years of anger
The weight of the world falling on my shoulders
A place where no one follows me, I walk alone
Squall felled the last leader, blood dripping down his blade in a syrup coat. Taxed from the fight, both physically and mentally drain he slid to his knees to the crimson covered floor. His anger lashed at the surface for they had tried to use children as shields against his gunblade. During his deadly dance he urged the children to scatter, but some stayed remarking that one of the many leaders were their father. War is hell, he knew it, and now these children knew it, but he could give them a better future. So, he informed them of one of his hidden cottages were he would raise them in peace in between his growth of power. Squall admitted silently he had seen no faces he recognized in over two years, alone in this vile pit of human waste.
I walk alone
Yeah
I walked for miles inside this pit of danger
I’ve swallowed down a thousand years of anger
The weight of the world falling on my shoulders
A place where no one follows me I walk alone
Galbaldia surrendered under his might, ceremoniously in front of numerous cameras. Balamb had the nerve to try and take his credit when none of his relief ever showed. He stayed to the shadows simmering in rebuke, before assuming the mantle of leader. Many pledge to his rule, but he wasn’t a fool, he handed the diplomatic reins to his old headmaster Cid. Squall was better as a hunter, killer, protector, not a leader. So he would keep this world peace, by staying in the shadows and eliminating those who would seek to harm it. Rinoa had already left him long before this war started, his friends died defending their homes, he was the last. Alone, he was alone, but he would defend their ideas with the power he had gained, alone.
I WALK ALONE
wolfchildblazer
Title of work: Shards of Power
Rating: PG
Fandom: Final Fantasy 8
Character: Squall Leonheart
Song and Artist: I Walk Alone by Saliva
Song Number: # 9
Disclaimer: I do not own the song, the game, or the character contain within, nor am I receiving any proceeds from this written piece.
Summary- (AU)- Well, Squall thought, he had to start somewhere.
Shards of Power
This television has a poison on its breath
This counter culture of wicked lies and death
It makes my eyes bleed every time I turn around
How will they all feel when I bring them to the ground?
And I say.
Squall shifted lightly watching the screen of the television for information on his newest target. A small ripple of boredom and disgust flooded through him as he had to wait through nine tons of news to get the information he was waiting for, this cold war, it was terrible what people did to one another. Yet, he knew as sure as the badge on his shoulder declared him a member of Balamb that all resistance would fall before his feet, it was his mission after all. He, and they were training him to be the best, to be a leader, a killer, all in one, and he would be, because that is where he belonged.
I walk for miles in this pit of danger
A place where no one follows me
I walk alone
He hated undercover work, it was tedious, but he wasn’t reckless. Still what he wouldn’t give to just challenge them all and watch them fall beneath his might. There had been numerous surges of uprising for the support of Galbaldia, the rest of the world couldn’t afford this. So they sent him as a mole, to destroy the uprising from the inside out, and destroy it completely. Squall knew these people had family had their reasons, and such, but it didn’t matter, it couldn’t matter because they dispatched him.
None, and no one could pull the job off, he was non-descriptive in all his ways. Squall was neither confrontational or memorable, just quite and skillful. His hair was a muted brown, reminiscent of hot cocoa easily forgettable, easily melded into the shadows. Eyes the color of stormy skies, shadowed and glassed over, not impenetrable, the color and soul of a lost boy. Dark colors, non descriptive style, the only thing flashy was the single necklace he wore and his weapon of choice, gunblade master, but it was too unique the ones causing the uprising applauded his skill. Squall did never seen any part of his squad from Balamb, he was too good, and so he was left alone, but that was fine, he worked best alone.
I’m sick of all these people talkin’ out their heads
I never understood a damn thing that they said
He was honest however, revealing his duplicitous nature when it came to the kill. They would mewl and beg, before explaining the views of the world. Squall would shrug unsure where they were going with such talk, his gunblade at the ready. He was to be the best, which means he was not socialized in the way of morals and thoughts. Then came the promises, the statements that he could be great under their guidance.
From words to actions never knowing what they’re about
I guess I’ll have to chew them up and spit them out
And I’ll say!
He was great, would be greater, but without their help, he was no one’s tool. Squall would swing his blade with ease and another would fall before his feet, his path paved. He never stopped to think about it, if he did then he would choke, he needed to be powerful so none could control him. Squall could not see the power of words only of actions, as whenever they tried to convince him it would only fall on deaf ears.
I walked for miles inside this pit of danger
I’ve swallowed down a thousand years of anger
The weight of the world is falling on my shoulders.
A place where no one follows me, I walk alone.
Squall frequently understood why he hated undercover missions, it was always a fight to stay true to who you were, to have to constantly interact with those that you couldn’t stand. He hated it with a passion, he wasn’t unfeeling, these missions did not succeed in making him robotic, which was the goal of his proprietors among silencing the uprising. Squall knew though if he failed in his mission, the world would fall under Galbaldia and its control. He was the only one that could save his home, but it was difficult to do alone, but he was alone for none would follow, because none could.
I’m sick of all these people talkin’ out their heads.
I never understood a damn thing that they said.
From words to actions never knowing what they’re about
I guess I’ll have to chew them up and spit them out
And I’ll say!
“Damn it.” It was a soft curse, though it could be loud for all the frustration bundled in it. Squall brushed a glove hand through sweaty fringe, blood staining his fingertips. His last few well planned strikes had a few bumps in the road, but he managed and with his identity still unknown. Still, it had been too close, there had been another, one he shouldn’t have had to silence, but he couldn’t be compromised. The radio blared in the background spewing out vile facts of this rapidly heating war. Several thousand world leaders chanting either for or against Galbaldia’s rule, some silenced on either side. He couldn’t understand it, what was the need for this war? The heavy sounding words flew over his sticky head, and angry voices paraded in his ear. Which side mattered, whose view counted, which should be followed? Squall was losing control to the mask, but he pushed against it, his will was his own as was his power. He would have to act incognito and quickly, both sides had a sense of wrongness.
I walked for miles inside this pit of danger
I’ve swallowed down a thousand years of anger
The weight of the world falling on my shoulders
A place where no one follows me, I walk alone
Squall felled the last leader, blood dripping down his blade in a syrup coat. Taxed from the fight, both physically and mentally drain he slid to his knees to the crimson covered floor. His anger lashed at the surface for they had tried to use children as shields against his gunblade. During his deadly dance he urged the children to scatter, but some stayed remarking that one of the many leaders were their father. War is hell, he knew it, and now these children knew it, but he could give them a better future. So, he informed them of one of his hidden cottages were he would raise them in peace in between his growth of power. Squall admitted silently he had seen no faces he recognized in over two years, alone in this vile pit of human waste.
I walk alone
Yeah
I walked for miles inside this pit of danger
I’ve swallowed down a thousand years of anger
The weight of the world falling on my shoulders
A place where no one follows me I walk alone
Galbaldia surrendered under his might, ceremoniously in front of numerous cameras. Balamb had the nerve to try and take his credit when none of his relief ever showed. He stayed to the shadows simmering in rebuke, before assuming the mantle of leader. Many pledge to his rule, but he wasn’t a fool, he handed the diplomatic reins to his old headmaster Cid. Squall was better as a hunter, killer, protector, not a leader. So he would keep this world peace, by staying in the shadows and eliminating those who would seek to harm it. Rinoa had already left him long before this war started, his friends died defending their homes, he was the last. Alone, he was alone, but he would defend their ideas with the power he had gained, alone.
I WALK ALONE