The Odds Are In [5] (FFVIII)
The Odds Are In, Chapter 5
Fandom: FFVIII
Characters: Quistis, Irvine, Laguna, Kiros, Ward
Rating: PG
Summary: Squall sends Quistis and Irvine on a mission to Esthar, in the midst of political (and familial) unrest. Will they end up facing down the terrorists they suspect are behind Esthar's current political uprisings? Or is Laguna paying millions of gil for two very skilled Triple Triad partners?
Notes: This is a total piece of comfort-writing, after the hellish fuckjob that March has been. Somewhat inspired by the shenanigans at lunaticdiscord, but also simply somewhat an excuse for me to write some fun characters that come easily to catch up almost 10,000 words on getyourwordsout.
The Odds Are In will be a series of connected ficlets / scenes / vignettes / pieces. Some will have plot, some will just be scenes. This month's goal: WORDS. The tag for this series is here.
- - -
who gives the orders here / alright / who gives the orders here / all - right -- /
- - -
By the time the knock on the door finally came, Quistis was not only dressed and ready; she'd already had two cups of coffee from the extravagant coffee bar included in their suite, she'd cleaned out the coffee-pot and set up the timer for tomorrow morning, and she'd had no less than three arguments with Irvine about proper mission attire. Irvine, who had had no coffee at all, was grumbling loudly in the Love Suite. Quistis sighed, stood up, straightened the tie on her uniform, and answered the door.
Laguna started, grinning. "Quistis! Hey, you guys are in uniform! That's pretty cool."
Quistis nodded. "I've decided that when we're attending you, we'll be in uniform at all times. That way, it might be a little harder for people to recognize us if we have to go civilian later in the mission."
Laguna nodded with her in approval. "I'd never really thought of that. Man, you guys look really official with all those things on!"
Quistis turned around. Behind her stood Irvine, grimacing, in his SeeD uniform. He opened his hands in obvious surrender. "Okay, you win. Can I at least wear my hat?"
"No!" Quistis resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Irvine, the entire point is to be unrecognizeable in our street clothes. Your hat? Very recognizeable."
"It is quite a stellar hat," Laguna offered.
"Fine." Irvine mumbled a few things under his breath Quistis couldn't hear, but obediently tossed the hat back into the Love Suite. "So where are we going this morning?"
"I want to introduce you to the staff around here." Laguna drew himself up proudly, obviously pleased to be escorted by two uniformed SeeDs. "I've called a quick meeting with the Head of Security, the Treasury Secretary, my Public Relations Secretary, the Chief of Staff, and the Head Guard." He paused, biting his lip. "They don't all know everything about what happened. It'll actually be interesting to see what versions of what stories they've heard."
"Interesting," Irvine repeated. Quistis said nothing.
Laguna looked between the two of them. "Shall we? C'mon, there's food, too."
They followed Laguna through the halls of the Palace. The President greeted everyone they passed, even the poor housekeeper who was sweeping the floors in another spacious guest room. They all looked pleased to see him, but Quistis kept her eyes open: so many people with access to the Palace. It was a security nightmare.
Kiros was waiting for them beside a closed door which read Conference Room 3B. "Good morning," he said, and handed a small handheld device to Quistis.
She glanced down at it. It was a couple generations newer than the one she'd used in Balamb, with the standard programs on it for phone, messaging, and notes. The screen was about the size of her palm, maybe slightly larger, and the images were bright and crisp. She looked back up at Kiros.
"We've programmed that for your use," he said. "Come in, and I'll show you why."
Quistis glanced at Irvine, but before she could ask, Kiros answered. "We only had the one on hand at the moment. Sorry, Irvine. We'll get you one in a day or two." Irvine nodded, and tried not to look disappointed.
Kiros opened the door. An oval-shaped table filled the conference room; in the back, along the wall, was a low table sporting thermoses of coffee and assorted pastries. Ward was sitting at the oval table, alone, eating a muffin. Laguna entered, greeting Ward with a lazy wave, and headed right for the tables of food.
"May I officially introduce you to the Head of Security." Kiros opened his palm in Ward's direction.
"Ward's the Head of Security?" Irvine asked. "Wait, can't he not talk?"
Quistis mentally buried her face in her hand in embarrassment, but before she could say anything, she felt the device in her hand vibrate in a brief spasm. She glanced at it, curious, noticing a message box had popped up.
Not talking =/= I'm an idiot, the message box read. Underneath it said in smaller handwriting, Idiot.
Quistis glanced up at Ward, who laid the stylus down next to his own handheld device and quirked an eyebrow at her, as if to say, am I right?
Irvine glanced between the two of them. "What?" he asked. "What'd he say?"
Quistis hastily closed the window on her screen. "Ward says he's perfectly capable of doing his job, thank you."
Irvine turned back to Ward, his face falling. "That is so not what I meant," he started to explain. Ward's face was locked in a disapproving, humorless frown.
"Now you see what it's for," Kiros murmured into her ear as Irvine made a hasty apology across the table. "But it's not just to help Ward. As Head of Security, Ward has complete autonomy from all of the other departments. What Ward says--" here he glanced down at her handheld, meaningfully. "...is for your eyes only. Keep that in mind."
Quistis watched as Ward's stone-faced expression broke down in wheezing laughter; Irvine's worried face melted in sudden relief and amusement, and the two men shook hands in greeting. She turned back to Kiros. "How do I--?"
Kiros took the handheld from her, tilting the screen forward so she could see. "Any time you're in a meeting with Ward, simply open this messaging program. It will automatically sign you in. Ward can then send you private messages, and you'll also be able to see any comments he sends to everyone. This little icon tells you whether it's privately or publicly sent." Kiros touched another part of the screen. "If Ward sends you a message when you're not signed in, it'll save that message in your inbox, here." His grin flashed. "Obviously, Ward's link is always on."
Quistis plucked the stylus out of its compartment and wrote on the touch screen: Thanks for not giving Irvine a heart attack. She hit Send with the tip of her finger.
Ward, now up at the buffet line, paused; Quistis saw him scribble something hastily, and a few seconds later, her screen read: Just wait until he gets one of these.
She turned to Kiros. "It's pretty useful. Who else has these?"
"Everyone you're going to meet today," Kiros said, "although not everyone uses them all the time. Ward rarely... he sits in on a lot of meetings, but he rarely has comments. Usually if he has something to say, he sits on it and thinks about it very hard. Then you find a twenty-page report in your Inbox right before you're about to do something ridiculously stupid." He paused. "Ward has... Security is very highly respected around here."
"Head of Security," Quistis mused aloud. She'd been in Ward's head once, courtesy of Ellone. "Kiros," she said suddenly, "what's your official position, here?"
"First Aide to the President," Kiros said, and his mouth quirked upwards, letting her know he fully intended the pun.
"First Aide." Quistis chuckled. "I assume Laguna needs a lot of that." At the mention of his name, Laguna turned around hastily, and the thermos of coffee he'd been serving himself from made a loud squelching noise as its flow was suddenly cut off. Laguna whirled back around, startled, and spilled half of his cup on the table.
Kiros gave her one last look and a shrug, and headed across the room to save Esthar's President from the evil coffee machine.
Quistis followed, eventually helping herself to a bagel and taking the seat Laguna gestured to, at the head of the table. She left the handheld device in her lap, where she could easily access it, but took out a plain notebook to take notes the old-fashioned way. Irvine sat down next to her, carrying three muffins and a mug of coffee with the precarious balance only a sniper could have. He glanced at the paper. "Notes?"
"Names, at least." She wrote the date on the top of the pad. "Positions. That kind of thing."
"Positions," Irvine murmured as an attractive woman in a suit entered the room, greeting Laguna and Kiros. "How about phone numbers?"
"Take your own notes," Quistis suggested under her breath. She stood as the President and the new woman approached her.
"Quistis," Laguna said, "this is Ristene Chanlon. She's the Chief of Staff for my organization, here." The woman held out her hand, and Quistis shook it, smiling. Ristene was about Laguna's age, with an attractive, lively face and a wide smile.
"Nice to meet you," Ristene said. "I'm glad Laguna has finally called someone in!"
Laguna elbowed her playfully, and said to Quistis, "Teeny has been on me to do something for months."
"Laguna!" Ristene rolled her eyes. "That's the stupidest nickname ever, you know."
"This is Irvine," Quistis said hastily, "also SeeD." Irvine stood up and shook Ristene's hand with a pleasant, warm smile; when he turned to Quistis, however, he gave her a quick wink.
The room was quickly filling up, and Quistis and Irvine were introduced in turn to the rest of Laguna's staff. The Public Relations Secretary, Allen Smark, was a young man with exuberantly red hair. The Treasury Secretary, Ide Losser, was an older, stern-faced woman who looked faintly disapproving of everything else in the room. Quistis shook both their hands and wrote their names down on her paper. The last person in the room was introduced as Pason Podnick, Head of Guard. Pason was an older man, stiff in military uniform, who gave them all shy but warm smiles as he bowed before taking the chair closest to the door.
Quistis sat, her back straight, watching as the small council greeted Laguna and exchanged news, updates, and stories. She only jumped a little when the device in her lap gave a short burst of vibration again. She tilted her head downwards to read the message.
Have Irvine get me another muffin
Quistis looked up, arching an eyebrow at Ward. He was efficiently blocked in between Allen, who was telling Laguna a story complete with exciting hand gestures, and Ide, who frowned at the device in her hands. What kind? she wrote on the screen.
Cranberry. After a moment, another window popped up. Better make it two
"Irvine," Quistis murmured, "go grab two cranberry muffins and give them to Ward, would you?"
Irvine gave the device in her lap a sulky glare, but stood up. He came back with three muffins and a cup of coffee, all of which were casually slid down the table. Ward nodded, and then scribbled something on his screen.
Tell him "thank you, pookie-muffin"
Quistis snorted in laughter. Not on your life, she wrote back.
Laguna stood up at the end of the table. "Alright, guys! You're here to meet the SeeD I've brought in to help out while we try to get rid of this pesky assassination thing!" Irvine waved; Quistis nodded, briefly, unsure of how to react. "They'll be my bodyguards, so you can all stop worrying and get back to your real jobs!"
"Laguna," Allen Smark said, "how are we going to spin this? Frankly, I'm terrified to see the headlines tomorrow: 'Scaredy-cat President Has Nightmares, Calls SeeD'? We should release something right away."
"Um," Laguna replied. "Sure. Whatever you want! What about a picture of me and Quistis and Irvine all, you know, smiling or something?"
"That's... um, a start." Allen scratched his chin in thought. "Still, I'm worried. Maybe we can spin it to our advantage. 'President Laguna: Safety First'. No, no. 'SeeD Brings Stability To The Oval Office.' No, that's no good either."
The handheld went off in her lap again. Quistis glanced down.
Smark is a douche
She bit her lip to keep from laughing and passed the device to Irvine. "Here," she hissed, "you figure it out. I'll pay attention."
"Gladly," Irvine muttered. He set the device in his lap, under the table, so that no one could see just how much he was writing -- no one except Quistis.
"What about honesty?" Ide's voice was dry. "'SeeD Here To Keep President Safe From All You Bastards With Grenades'. Or something of the sort."
"Hmm." Allen seemed to be considering it. "It would sell a fortune, that's true. But I'm not sure it's the message that we want."
Quistis leaned back in her chair, trying to quell the urge to doodle all over her notepad. Beside her, Irvine's shoulders were shaking in silent laughter at something on the handheld. She momentarily regretted passing it to him; this was going to be a long meeting.
"'Skilled Companions To Accompany President Loire At All Times'?" Allen was still verbally vomiting headlines.
Kiros leaned forward, an exasperated look on his face. "They're not specialized hookers, Allen."
Quistis sighed, and stole Irvine's coffee. He had the handheld to entertain himself; she was going to need all the help she could get.
Fandom: FFVIII
Characters: Quistis, Irvine, Laguna, Kiros, Ward
Rating: PG
Summary: Squall sends Quistis and Irvine on a mission to Esthar, in the midst of political (and familial) unrest. Will they end up facing down the terrorists they suspect are behind Esthar's current political uprisings? Or is Laguna paying millions of gil for two very skilled Triple Triad partners?
Notes: This is a total piece of comfort-writing, after the hellish fuckjob that March has been. Somewhat inspired by the shenanigans at lunaticdiscord, but also simply somewhat an excuse for me to write some fun characters that come easily to catch up almost 10,000 words on getyourwordsout.
The Odds Are In will be a series of connected ficlets / scenes / vignettes / pieces. Some will have plot, some will just be scenes. This month's goal: WORDS. The tag for this series is here.
- - -
who gives the orders here / alright / who gives the orders here / all - right -- /
- - -
By the time the knock on the door finally came, Quistis was not only dressed and ready; she'd already had two cups of coffee from the extravagant coffee bar included in their suite, she'd cleaned out the coffee-pot and set up the timer for tomorrow morning, and she'd had no less than three arguments with Irvine about proper mission attire. Irvine, who had had no coffee at all, was grumbling loudly in the Love Suite. Quistis sighed, stood up, straightened the tie on her uniform, and answered the door.
Laguna started, grinning. "Quistis! Hey, you guys are in uniform! That's pretty cool."
Quistis nodded. "I've decided that when we're attending you, we'll be in uniform at all times. That way, it might be a little harder for people to recognize us if we have to go civilian later in the mission."
Laguna nodded with her in approval. "I'd never really thought of that. Man, you guys look really official with all those things on!"
Quistis turned around. Behind her stood Irvine, grimacing, in his SeeD uniform. He opened his hands in obvious surrender. "Okay, you win. Can I at least wear my hat?"
"No!" Quistis resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Irvine, the entire point is to be unrecognizeable in our street clothes. Your hat? Very recognizeable."
"It is quite a stellar hat," Laguna offered.
"Fine." Irvine mumbled a few things under his breath Quistis couldn't hear, but obediently tossed the hat back into the Love Suite. "So where are we going this morning?"
"I want to introduce you to the staff around here." Laguna drew himself up proudly, obviously pleased to be escorted by two uniformed SeeDs. "I've called a quick meeting with the Head of Security, the Treasury Secretary, my Public Relations Secretary, the Chief of Staff, and the Head Guard." He paused, biting his lip. "They don't all know everything about what happened. It'll actually be interesting to see what versions of what stories they've heard."
"Interesting," Irvine repeated. Quistis said nothing.
Laguna looked between the two of them. "Shall we? C'mon, there's food, too."
They followed Laguna through the halls of the Palace. The President greeted everyone they passed, even the poor housekeeper who was sweeping the floors in another spacious guest room. They all looked pleased to see him, but Quistis kept her eyes open: so many people with access to the Palace. It was a security nightmare.
Kiros was waiting for them beside a closed door which read Conference Room 3B. "Good morning," he said, and handed a small handheld device to Quistis.
She glanced down at it. It was a couple generations newer than the one she'd used in Balamb, with the standard programs on it for phone, messaging, and notes. The screen was about the size of her palm, maybe slightly larger, and the images were bright and crisp. She looked back up at Kiros.
"We've programmed that for your use," he said. "Come in, and I'll show you why."
Quistis glanced at Irvine, but before she could ask, Kiros answered. "We only had the one on hand at the moment. Sorry, Irvine. We'll get you one in a day or two." Irvine nodded, and tried not to look disappointed.
Kiros opened the door. An oval-shaped table filled the conference room; in the back, along the wall, was a low table sporting thermoses of coffee and assorted pastries. Ward was sitting at the oval table, alone, eating a muffin. Laguna entered, greeting Ward with a lazy wave, and headed right for the tables of food.
"May I officially introduce you to the Head of Security." Kiros opened his palm in Ward's direction.
"Ward's the Head of Security?" Irvine asked. "Wait, can't he not talk?"
Quistis mentally buried her face in her hand in embarrassment, but before she could say anything, she felt the device in her hand vibrate in a brief spasm. She glanced at it, curious, noticing a message box had popped up.
Not talking =/= I'm an idiot, the message box read. Underneath it said in smaller handwriting, Idiot.
Quistis glanced up at Ward, who laid the stylus down next to his own handheld device and quirked an eyebrow at her, as if to say, am I right?
Irvine glanced between the two of them. "What?" he asked. "What'd he say?"
Quistis hastily closed the window on her screen. "Ward says he's perfectly capable of doing his job, thank you."
Irvine turned back to Ward, his face falling. "That is so not what I meant," he started to explain. Ward's face was locked in a disapproving, humorless frown.
"Now you see what it's for," Kiros murmured into her ear as Irvine made a hasty apology across the table. "But it's not just to help Ward. As Head of Security, Ward has complete autonomy from all of the other departments. What Ward says--" here he glanced down at her handheld, meaningfully. "...is for your eyes only. Keep that in mind."
Quistis watched as Ward's stone-faced expression broke down in wheezing laughter; Irvine's worried face melted in sudden relief and amusement, and the two men shook hands in greeting. She turned back to Kiros. "How do I--?"
Kiros took the handheld from her, tilting the screen forward so she could see. "Any time you're in a meeting with Ward, simply open this messaging program. It will automatically sign you in. Ward can then send you private messages, and you'll also be able to see any comments he sends to everyone. This little icon tells you whether it's privately or publicly sent." Kiros touched another part of the screen. "If Ward sends you a message when you're not signed in, it'll save that message in your inbox, here." His grin flashed. "Obviously, Ward's link is always on."
Quistis plucked the stylus out of its compartment and wrote on the touch screen: Thanks for not giving Irvine a heart attack. She hit Send with the tip of her finger.
Ward, now up at the buffet line, paused; Quistis saw him scribble something hastily, and a few seconds later, her screen read: Just wait until he gets one of these.
She turned to Kiros. "It's pretty useful. Who else has these?"
"Everyone you're going to meet today," Kiros said, "although not everyone uses them all the time. Ward rarely... he sits in on a lot of meetings, but he rarely has comments. Usually if he has something to say, he sits on it and thinks about it very hard. Then you find a twenty-page report in your Inbox right before you're about to do something ridiculously stupid." He paused. "Ward has... Security is very highly respected around here."
"Head of Security," Quistis mused aloud. She'd been in Ward's head once, courtesy of Ellone. "Kiros," she said suddenly, "what's your official position, here?"
"First Aide to the President," Kiros said, and his mouth quirked upwards, letting her know he fully intended the pun.
"First Aide." Quistis chuckled. "I assume Laguna needs a lot of that." At the mention of his name, Laguna turned around hastily, and the thermos of coffee he'd been serving himself from made a loud squelching noise as its flow was suddenly cut off. Laguna whirled back around, startled, and spilled half of his cup on the table.
Kiros gave her one last look and a shrug, and headed across the room to save Esthar's President from the evil coffee machine.
Quistis followed, eventually helping herself to a bagel and taking the seat Laguna gestured to, at the head of the table. She left the handheld device in her lap, where she could easily access it, but took out a plain notebook to take notes the old-fashioned way. Irvine sat down next to her, carrying three muffins and a mug of coffee with the precarious balance only a sniper could have. He glanced at the paper. "Notes?"
"Names, at least." She wrote the date on the top of the pad. "Positions. That kind of thing."
"Positions," Irvine murmured as an attractive woman in a suit entered the room, greeting Laguna and Kiros. "How about phone numbers?"
"Take your own notes," Quistis suggested under her breath. She stood as the President and the new woman approached her.
"Quistis," Laguna said, "this is Ristene Chanlon. She's the Chief of Staff for my organization, here." The woman held out her hand, and Quistis shook it, smiling. Ristene was about Laguna's age, with an attractive, lively face and a wide smile.
"Nice to meet you," Ristene said. "I'm glad Laguna has finally called someone in!"
Laguna elbowed her playfully, and said to Quistis, "Teeny has been on me to do something for months."
"Laguna!" Ristene rolled her eyes. "That's the stupidest nickname ever, you know."
"This is Irvine," Quistis said hastily, "also SeeD." Irvine stood up and shook Ristene's hand with a pleasant, warm smile; when he turned to Quistis, however, he gave her a quick wink.
The room was quickly filling up, and Quistis and Irvine were introduced in turn to the rest of Laguna's staff. The Public Relations Secretary, Allen Smark, was a young man with exuberantly red hair. The Treasury Secretary, Ide Losser, was an older, stern-faced woman who looked faintly disapproving of everything else in the room. Quistis shook both their hands and wrote their names down on her paper. The last person in the room was introduced as Pason Podnick, Head of Guard. Pason was an older man, stiff in military uniform, who gave them all shy but warm smiles as he bowed before taking the chair closest to the door.
Quistis sat, her back straight, watching as the small council greeted Laguna and exchanged news, updates, and stories. She only jumped a little when the device in her lap gave a short burst of vibration again. She tilted her head downwards to read the message.
Have Irvine get me another muffin
Quistis looked up, arching an eyebrow at Ward. He was efficiently blocked in between Allen, who was telling Laguna a story complete with exciting hand gestures, and Ide, who frowned at the device in her hands. What kind? she wrote on the screen.
Cranberry. After a moment, another window popped up. Better make it two
"Irvine," Quistis murmured, "go grab two cranberry muffins and give them to Ward, would you?"
Irvine gave the device in her lap a sulky glare, but stood up. He came back with three muffins and a cup of coffee, all of which were casually slid down the table. Ward nodded, and then scribbled something on his screen.
Tell him "thank you, pookie-muffin"
Quistis snorted in laughter. Not on your life, she wrote back.
Laguna stood up at the end of the table. "Alright, guys! You're here to meet the SeeD I've brought in to help out while we try to get rid of this pesky assassination thing!" Irvine waved; Quistis nodded, briefly, unsure of how to react. "They'll be my bodyguards, so you can all stop worrying and get back to your real jobs!"
"Laguna," Allen Smark said, "how are we going to spin this? Frankly, I'm terrified to see the headlines tomorrow: 'Scaredy-cat President Has Nightmares, Calls SeeD'? We should release something right away."
"Um," Laguna replied. "Sure. Whatever you want! What about a picture of me and Quistis and Irvine all, you know, smiling or something?"
"That's... um, a start." Allen scratched his chin in thought. "Still, I'm worried. Maybe we can spin it to our advantage. 'President Laguna: Safety First'. No, no. 'SeeD Brings Stability To The Oval Office.' No, that's no good either."
The handheld went off in her lap again. Quistis glanced down.
Smark is a douche
She bit her lip to keep from laughing and passed the device to Irvine. "Here," she hissed, "you figure it out. I'll pay attention."
"Gladly," Irvine muttered. He set the device in his lap, under the table, so that no one could see just how much he was writing -- no one except Quistis.
"What about honesty?" Ide's voice was dry. "'SeeD Here To Keep President Safe From All You Bastards With Grenades'. Or something of the sort."
"Hmm." Allen seemed to be considering it. "It would sell a fortune, that's true. But I'm not sure it's the message that we want."
Quistis leaned back in her chair, trying to quell the urge to doodle all over her notepad. Beside her, Irvine's shoulders were shaking in silent laughter at something on the handheld. She momentarily regretted passing it to him; this was going to be a long meeting.
"'Skilled Companions To Accompany President Loire At All Times'?" Allen was still verbally vomiting headlines.
Kiros leaned forward, an exasperated look on his face. "They're not specialized hookers, Allen."
Quistis sighed, and stole Irvine's coffee. He had the handheld to entertain himself; she was going to need all the help she could get.