28 Flavors of Love: The Monster Post
18. guideline
Fandom: Final Fantasy 12
Characters: Cid, Balthier
Word Count: 76
Rating: G
Always leave a way out, his father was fond of saying, while bent over designs and blueprints, lost in a labyrinth of carelessly stacked references. Always leave a way out, or you may destroy all you build while leaving.
For fourteen long years, he had thought the man a hypocrite, but as his father collapses into his arms, he gazes up into golden annihilation and realizes that Cidolphus has no intention of leaving.
He never did.
----
19. style
Fandom: Final Fantasy 12
Characters: Fran
Word Count: 100
Rating: G
Fran does not learn how to fight with anything less than wood-ward’s bow until she is five years away from the Wood, a tall harsh presence amongst those-who-are-not-of-the-Wood.
But one day her cherished bow breaks, and the old bangaa who has served as her companion these two years past barks a low bangaa laugh, for they are too far away from a town to procure a replacement anytime soon.
Time to learn to use the rest of you, he growls cheerily.
~
She still visits his grave occasionally; Balthier comes to rest asides him when the hume’s days are finished.
----
20. symbol
Fandom: Final Fantasy 12
Characters: Vaan, Balthier, Penelo, Fran
Word Count: 159
Rating: G
Warning: If you don't even want the slightest spoiler for Revenant Wings, skip this one. But it's a very tiny spoiler. =<
When Balthier jerks a thumb over his shoulder at the graceful planes of the corsair behind him, Penelo has to clap a hand over her mouth to stifle a squawk of laughter at the way Vaan’s eyes begin to bulge slightly. This is followed by several minutes of incoherent gurgling, during which Vaan somehow ends up plastered to the corsair’s hull, running reverent sweaty hands over the ship’s exterior.
Penelo grins. Balthier smirks. Fran deigns to crinkle her eyes slightly in her version of a smile.
What will you name her? Fran silently hands Penelo a sheaf of papers as Balthier speaks; the dancer leafs through it to find ownership papers, schematics, everything to do and not to do, snorting a little to the accompaniment of the viera’s vaguely maternal hum.
Vaan lifts his head with a too-bright, too-shiny smile.
A new ship. A new journey.
The Galbana, he announces loudly, and rushes aboard, his companions trailing unhurriedly after.
---
21. studio
Fandom: Final Fantasy 12
Characters: Larsa, Gramis, Vayne, Drace, Gabranth
Word Count: 116
Rating: G
He asked, question within question, if he could have a room to himself for studying.
His Lord Father barely spared him a glance from the affairs of Empire.
It is Vayne who finally assigned him a librarial suite; Drace who took him to it; Gabranth who pretended not to notice the emptiness in his polite smile.
This is not new; over time, he becomes inured to it.
His Lord Father was wedded to Empire- he could not have expected less.
Such was the duty of an Emperor.
Such was the duty of an Emperor’s son.
Much later, word comes that his Lord Father is dead; still the tears burn no less hot in his wind-dried eyes.
--
22. carrot
Fandom: Final Fantasy 12
Characters: Vaan, Penelo, Fran, Balthier, Ashe, Basch (guess whose reaction is whose?), Carrot
Word Count: 100
Rating: G
“……you’re kidding. That is NOT a ‘cute pet’, by any stretch of the imagination.”
The viera’s shapely shoulder moved slightly, approximating a shrug, or as much of a shrug as an archer with a fully strung and drawn bow could perform. “Whether its master was blind or deluded I cannot say, but that is indeed the creature you seek.”
Blink.
Twitch.
Gulp.
Grimace.
Genteel wince.
Fran’s delicate ears tilted infinitesimally backwards. “Let us be done with it.”
~
Far away, a gentlewoman sat in Nalbina’s Aerodrome, tapping perfectly painted lips with a perfectly made rosewood fan. “Oh, my poor Carrot…”
----
23. market
Fandom: Final Fantasy 12
Characters: Penelo, Balthier
Pairing: Penelo/Balthier (or should that be the other way around?)
Word Count: 121
Rating: PG
In the surging bustle of the crowd, he gazes between passing bodies, a mug of cool frothy chai-i in hand; he watches her dance, careless and golden in Dalmasca’s eternal sun, glittering with jewels and sweat like a too-solid, heartbreakingly real statue in motion.
She turns, her hair flying in tiny braids about her face, and their eyes meet; her mouth opens in an unguarded laugh of delight. Then the dancer sweeps a brief bow in his direction before the music takes her again, his raised-mug salute gone unnoticed, or unacknowledged.
But even if she fails to acknowledge his compliment, now or countless times…
As long as Dalmasca’s sun shines, as long as she dances…
The wind will carry him there.
----
24. bulletin
Fandom: Final Fantasy 12
Characters: Zargabaath, Basch
Word Count: 246
Rating: G
It does not take long for Zargabaath to notice that Gabranth is acting very oddly indeed. Ever taciturn, the Landisler speaks even less now; not to the servants, nor the younger judges, but almost exclusively to the Emperor alone. He no longer flies the Eden, his favorite cruiser; he neglects Parlian, his golden charger, until apparently reminded of it by their young liege’s subtle prompting.
More telling, he no longer visits Drace’s unmarked marker in the shrine to fallen, unnamed soldiers.
All this the old Judge Magister (last of his generation) sees, with eyes that are still keen, despite all he has pretended to be blind to, these past months. He sees, and thinks, and finally decides to approach the younger Judge Magister directly.
“The current trends of magisterial decree in central Archades seem to favor evidence over testimony, of late,” he says, faceless and inflectionless.
Gabranth stares straight ahead and does not speak for some time, as if some invisible force had frozen the joints of his armor and placed him against the wall, an unlikely guardian to oversee the artisan ponds beyond the balcony rail. Then he shifts, minutely, almost a physical sigh. “Such a trend is desirable, by my reckoning. Do you think differently?”
“The Emperor Larsa has always been a firm believer in evidence over testimony,” the older Judge Magister points out, and removes his helm.
Perhaps they may yet still be enemies, but in the meantime, they might rather be friends.
----
25. integrating
Fandom: Final Fantasy 12
Characters: Ashe, Balthier, Relj
Word Count: 223
Rating: G
On the first day, they argued about borders.
On the second day, they argued about borders.
On the third day, they argued about borders.
On the fourth day, they argued about borders.
On the fifth day, they argued about borders.
On the sixth day, they argued about borders.
On the seventh day, Queen Ashelia drew Excalibur on the entire diplomatic table and adjourned the negotiations for a good week. Arguing about borders was done by way of notes, well out of the irate monarchess’ way.
On the fifteenth day, Balthier strolled casually into the reconvened negotiations, tipped a jaunty bow to everyone present, and seated himself firmly at the Gran Kiltias’ white-robed side as if he belonged there all along.
“Well, ladies and gentlemen,” the pirate drawled with ineffable calm, “let us strike a deal.”
There was no arguing about borders that day, nor in the days to come, until Damalsca was long dead and Archades’ towers turned to dust. Even in the ages to come, however, the cunning and ability of the man called Balthier Ffamran Cidolphus Buanasa would be remembered by the ageless Gran Kiltias, she who had once seen him fell the great beast Fafnir, and she who had seen him almost single handedly talk down every member of that congregation.
After all, the man who had come to bridge all their worlds could be counted upon for nothing less.
----
26. loose
Fandom: Final Fantasy 12
Characters: Vayne
Word Count: 77
Rating: G
Loose hair in Dalmasca’s heat was never a good thing, sensible and fashionable as it might be in Archades; the wind tangled it to snarls, the sun heated it to burning, and the grit put paid to every semblance of grooming that could be attempted over one’s lifetime.
He left his hair unbound as an answer to this conquered demesne’s final silent defiance.
If Archades could not constrain him, Dalmasca would not attain the final say, either.
----
27. resident
Fandom: Final Fantasy 12
Characters: Cid, Balthier, Venat
Word Count: 307
Rating: G
Your son is very like you.
He cannot remember exactly when he looked up from his papers to find her there, studying him.
Neither can he remember exactly when her presence became constant, or her conversation a given.
But he remembers, quite vividly, the first time she spoke, and his son answered; drawling steel hollowly echoing down the venerated corridors of the Occuria’s absconded wisdom.
She had paused, the reply unexpected, and unfamiliar pride twinged in his breast that something could yet surprise the immortal, after all. It was a paltry emotion of course- compared to the lucid clarity that he had come to find strength in- but still triumph, still achievement. Like so many other achievements, it faded as fast as it had come and was discarded almost immediately, but the moment of triumph remained.
It would be the first and last time that his son ever acknowledged the Occuria directly.
And for that, he regretted.
Exactly why he regretted it, he did not know.
Your son is very like you, she says but once, and this he never forgets, nor the curious, anonymous feeling that welled up within him, though he did not understand what she meant then. The only son he knows is a defiant, devilish rogue weapon, as like to turn upon his wielder as upon his opponent. He, on the other hand, is a well-tended laser, smoothly oiled and always, always impeccably aimed.
As far as he knows, there is no particular resemblance between them.
But at the end, your son is very like you haunts him as he looks up, for the very last time.
They are very like each other, over skin and underneath, through and through.
She was right, after all. As always.
And the boy is still his own defiant, rogue weapon.
Your son is very like you.
----
28. queue
Fandom: Final Fantasy 12
Characters: Balthier, Fran, random anonymous screaming Balthier fangirls
Word Count: 188
Rating: PG?
“Ah, the duties of a leading man are never done.”
His partner stared narrowly down at him, pale ears eerily still and amber eyes slitted with displeasure. “Leading man or not, dispense with these so-called…duties…” Her voice sawed and yanked all elegance off the word as she gave him one last (distinctly disgusted) look and stalked off to another part of the tavern, glass of wine in hand and offended dignity trailing behind her like a tattered bridal train.
Really, Fran could be so tiresome sometimes, he thought indulgently, offering a brief smile to the next young lady who waited in line, in front of several wenches of varying ages and a couple of trying-not-to-look-interested-but-staring-anyway men. Didn’t she know how to appreciate compliments given, whenever and wherever they might be found?
What an exasperating female.
At least she had the good graces not to look at him as he eventually made his escape out of a window to the accompaniment of aggrieved female screaming.
(Although she did yank him up onto the roof with completely unnecessary force.)
The things a leading man had to put up with. Goodness.
----
Author's notes
Well, that's finally finished
From the day of my birthday, 29th October, until today- the 12th of Febuary as my computer reckons time-I have written 28 separate ficlets on as many separate themes. I have killed off Cid about three separate times (or four?!), Basch once, Vayne once, Balthier (figuratively) once, sent Gabranth to his literal doom, dumped Ashe in a pond, made her threaten a party of diplomats, used her as a plot device, etc. I have written Vaan as a complete goon (drooling over an airship indeed!) and as a hunting hero, Penelo as all manner of things (and rather shrewish sometimes), Larsa as the put-upon, too-old-for-his-years, improbably intelligent child prodigy, and so on and so forth.
I've even written a fic about Carrot. That tells you how quickly I was running out of ideas...
The quickly lowering word count should also give some clue as to how much LESS time I had left to write these things....
Still, ending the series with a crackfic about Balthier's popularity is somehow fitting for the end of a series about the various facets of life and love.
Thanks to:
Taiyou for reading it in its embryonic beginnings (and gagging over LarsaxPenelo or indeed anything with Penelo in it)
LaLuminosa for becoming my inofficial beta up until around 17 or so
kaizer_ki (for nothing in particular but just listening to me whine about writing each chapter)
and finally to
mariagoner for talking FF12talk with me. There's just something about unrelated chat that gives me the impetus to write, for some reason. Oh well, whatever works <3
Mood:
accomplished <- yay!
Fandom: Final Fantasy 12
Characters: Cid, Balthier
Word Count: 76
Rating: G
Always leave a way out, his father was fond of saying, while bent over designs and blueprints, lost in a labyrinth of carelessly stacked references. Always leave a way out, or you may destroy all you build while leaving.
For fourteen long years, he had thought the man a hypocrite, but as his father collapses into his arms, he gazes up into golden annihilation and realizes that Cidolphus has no intention of leaving.
He never did.
----
19. style
Fandom: Final Fantasy 12
Characters: Fran
Word Count: 100
Rating: G
Fran does not learn how to fight with anything less than wood-ward’s bow until she is five years away from the Wood, a tall harsh presence amongst those-who-are-not-of-the-Wood.
But one day her cherished bow breaks, and the old bangaa who has served as her companion these two years past barks a low bangaa laugh, for they are too far away from a town to procure a replacement anytime soon.
Time to learn to use the rest of you, he growls cheerily.
~
She still visits his grave occasionally; Balthier comes to rest asides him when the hume’s days are finished.
----
20. symbol
Fandom: Final Fantasy 12
Characters: Vaan, Balthier, Penelo, Fran
Word Count: 159
Rating: G
Warning: If you don't even want the slightest spoiler for Revenant Wings, skip this one. But it's a very tiny spoiler. =<
When Balthier jerks a thumb over his shoulder at the graceful planes of the corsair behind him, Penelo has to clap a hand over her mouth to stifle a squawk of laughter at the way Vaan’s eyes begin to bulge slightly. This is followed by several minutes of incoherent gurgling, during which Vaan somehow ends up plastered to the corsair’s hull, running reverent sweaty hands over the ship’s exterior.
Penelo grins. Balthier smirks. Fran deigns to crinkle her eyes slightly in her version of a smile.
What will you name her? Fran silently hands Penelo a sheaf of papers as Balthier speaks; the dancer leafs through it to find ownership papers, schematics, everything to do and not to do, snorting a little to the accompaniment of the viera’s vaguely maternal hum.
Vaan lifts his head with a too-bright, too-shiny smile.
A new ship. A new journey.
The Galbana, he announces loudly, and rushes aboard, his companions trailing unhurriedly after.
---
21. studio
Fandom: Final Fantasy 12
Characters: Larsa, Gramis, Vayne, Drace, Gabranth
Word Count: 116
Rating: G
He asked, question within question, if he could have a room to himself for studying.
His Lord Father barely spared him a glance from the affairs of Empire.
It is Vayne who finally assigned him a librarial suite; Drace who took him to it; Gabranth who pretended not to notice the emptiness in his polite smile.
This is not new; over time, he becomes inured to it.
His Lord Father was wedded to Empire- he could not have expected less.
Such was the duty of an Emperor.
Such was the duty of an Emperor’s son.
Much later, word comes that his Lord Father is dead; still the tears burn no less hot in his wind-dried eyes.
--
22. carrot
Fandom: Final Fantasy 12
Characters: Vaan, Penelo, Fran, Balthier, Ashe, Basch (guess whose reaction is whose?), Carrot
Word Count: 100
Rating: G
“……you’re kidding. That is NOT a ‘cute pet’, by any stretch of the imagination.”
The viera’s shapely shoulder moved slightly, approximating a shrug, or as much of a shrug as an archer with a fully strung and drawn bow could perform. “Whether its master was blind or deluded I cannot say, but that is indeed the creature you seek.”
Blink.
Twitch.
Gulp.
Grimace.
Genteel wince.
Fran’s delicate ears tilted infinitesimally backwards. “Let us be done with it.”
~
Far away, a gentlewoman sat in Nalbina’s Aerodrome, tapping perfectly painted lips with a perfectly made rosewood fan. “Oh, my poor Carrot…”
----
23. market
Fandom: Final Fantasy 12
Characters: Penelo, Balthier
Pairing: Penelo/Balthier (or should that be the other way around?)
Word Count: 121
Rating: PG
In the surging bustle of the crowd, he gazes between passing bodies, a mug of cool frothy chai-i in hand; he watches her dance, careless and golden in Dalmasca’s eternal sun, glittering with jewels and sweat like a too-solid, heartbreakingly real statue in motion.
She turns, her hair flying in tiny braids about her face, and their eyes meet; her mouth opens in an unguarded laugh of delight. Then the dancer sweeps a brief bow in his direction before the music takes her again, his raised-mug salute gone unnoticed, or unacknowledged.
But even if she fails to acknowledge his compliment, now or countless times…
As long as Dalmasca’s sun shines, as long as she dances…
The wind will carry him there.
----
24. bulletin
Fandom: Final Fantasy 12
Characters: Zargabaath, Basch
Word Count: 246
Rating: G
It does not take long for Zargabaath to notice that Gabranth is acting very oddly indeed. Ever taciturn, the Landisler speaks even less now; not to the servants, nor the younger judges, but almost exclusively to the Emperor alone. He no longer flies the Eden, his favorite cruiser; he neglects Parlian, his golden charger, until apparently reminded of it by their young liege’s subtle prompting.
More telling, he no longer visits Drace’s unmarked marker in the shrine to fallen, unnamed soldiers.
All this the old Judge Magister (last of his generation) sees, with eyes that are still keen, despite all he has pretended to be blind to, these past months. He sees, and thinks, and finally decides to approach the younger Judge Magister directly.
“The current trends of magisterial decree in central Archades seem to favor evidence over testimony, of late,” he says, faceless and inflectionless.
Gabranth stares straight ahead and does not speak for some time, as if some invisible force had frozen the joints of his armor and placed him against the wall, an unlikely guardian to oversee the artisan ponds beyond the balcony rail. Then he shifts, minutely, almost a physical sigh. “Such a trend is desirable, by my reckoning. Do you think differently?”
“The Emperor Larsa has always been a firm believer in evidence over testimony,” the older Judge Magister points out, and removes his helm.
Perhaps they may yet still be enemies, but in the meantime, they might rather be friends.
----
25. integrating
Fandom: Final Fantasy 12
Characters: Ashe, Balthier, Relj
Word Count: 223
Rating: G
On the first day, they argued about borders.
On the second day, they argued about borders.
On the third day, they argued about borders.
On the fourth day, they argued about borders.
On the fifth day, they argued about borders.
On the sixth day, they argued about borders.
On the seventh day, Queen Ashelia drew Excalibur on the entire diplomatic table and adjourned the negotiations for a good week. Arguing about borders was done by way of notes, well out of the irate monarchess’ way.
On the fifteenth day, Balthier strolled casually into the reconvened negotiations, tipped a jaunty bow to everyone present, and seated himself firmly at the Gran Kiltias’ white-robed side as if he belonged there all along.
“Well, ladies and gentlemen,” the pirate drawled with ineffable calm, “let us strike a deal.”
There was no arguing about borders that day, nor in the days to come, until Damalsca was long dead and Archades’ towers turned to dust. Even in the ages to come, however, the cunning and ability of the man called Balthier Ffamran Cidolphus Buanasa would be remembered by the ageless Gran Kiltias, she who had once seen him fell the great beast Fafnir, and she who had seen him almost single handedly talk down every member of that congregation.
After all, the man who had come to bridge all their worlds could be counted upon for nothing less.
----
26. loose
Fandom: Final Fantasy 12
Characters: Vayne
Word Count: 77
Rating: G
Loose hair in Dalmasca’s heat was never a good thing, sensible and fashionable as it might be in Archades; the wind tangled it to snarls, the sun heated it to burning, and the grit put paid to every semblance of grooming that could be attempted over one’s lifetime.
He left his hair unbound as an answer to this conquered demesne’s final silent defiance.
If Archades could not constrain him, Dalmasca would not attain the final say, either.
----
27. resident
Fandom: Final Fantasy 12
Characters: Cid, Balthier, Venat
Word Count: 307
Rating: G
Your son is very like you.
He cannot remember exactly when he looked up from his papers to find her there, studying him.
Neither can he remember exactly when her presence became constant, or her conversation a given.
But he remembers, quite vividly, the first time she spoke, and his son answered; drawling steel hollowly echoing down the venerated corridors of the Occuria’s absconded wisdom.
She had paused, the reply unexpected, and unfamiliar pride twinged in his breast that something could yet surprise the immortal, after all. It was a paltry emotion of course- compared to the lucid clarity that he had come to find strength in- but still triumph, still achievement. Like so many other achievements, it faded as fast as it had come and was discarded almost immediately, but the moment of triumph remained.
It would be the first and last time that his son ever acknowledged the Occuria directly.
And for that, he regretted.
Exactly why he regretted it, he did not know.
Your son is very like you, she says but once, and this he never forgets, nor the curious, anonymous feeling that welled up within him, though he did not understand what she meant then. The only son he knows is a defiant, devilish rogue weapon, as like to turn upon his wielder as upon his opponent. He, on the other hand, is a well-tended laser, smoothly oiled and always, always impeccably aimed.
As far as he knows, there is no particular resemblance between them.
But at the end, your son is very like you haunts him as he looks up, for the very last time.
They are very like each other, over skin and underneath, through and through.
She was right, after all. As always.
And the boy is still his own defiant, rogue weapon.
Your son is very like you.
----
28. queue
Fandom: Final Fantasy 12
Characters: Balthier, Fran, random anonymous screaming Balthier fangirls
Word Count: 188
Rating: PG?
“Ah, the duties of a leading man are never done.”
His partner stared narrowly down at him, pale ears eerily still and amber eyes slitted with displeasure. “Leading man or not, dispense with these so-called…duties…” Her voice sawed and yanked all elegance off the word as she gave him one last (distinctly disgusted) look and stalked off to another part of the tavern, glass of wine in hand and offended dignity trailing behind her like a tattered bridal train.
Really, Fran could be so tiresome sometimes, he thought indulgently, offering a brief smile to the next young lady who waited in line, in front of several wenches of varying ages and a couple of trying-not-to-look-interested-but-staring-anyway men. Didn’t she know how to appreciate compliments given, whenever and wherever they might be found?
What an exasperating female.
At least she had the good graces not to look at him as he eventually made his escape out of a window to the accompaniment of aggrieved female screaming.
(Although she did yank him up onto the roof with completely unnecessary force.)
The things a leading man had to put up with. Goodness.
----
Author's notes
Well, that's finally finished
From the day of my birthday, 29th October, until today- the 12th of Febuary as my computer reckons time-I have written 28 separate ficlets on as many separate themes. I have killed off Cid about three separate times (or four?!), Basch once, Vayne once, Balthier (figuratively) once, sent Gabranth to his literal doom, dumped Ashe in a pond, made her threaten a party of diplomats, used her as a plot device, etc. I have written Vaan as a complete goon (drooling over an airship indeed!) and as a hunting hero, Penelo as all manner of things (and rather shrewish sometimes), Larsa as the put-upon, too-old-for-his-years, improbably intelligent child prodigy, and so on and so forth.
I've even written a fic about Carrot. That tells you how quickly I was running out of ideas...
The quickly lowering word count should also give some clue as to how much LESS time I had left to write these things....
Still, ending the series with a crackfic about Balthier's popularity is somehow fitting for the end of a series about the various facets of life and love.
Thanks to:
Taiyou for reading it in its embryonic beginnings (and gagging over LarsaxPenelo or indeed anything with Penelo in it)
LaLuminosa for becoming my inofficial beta up until around 17 or so
kaizer_ki (for nothing in particular but just listening to me whine about writing each chapter)
and finally to
mariagoner for talking FF12talk with me. There's just something about unrelated chat that gives me the impetus to write, for some reason. Oh well, whatever works <3
Mood:
accomplished <- yay!