Zidane Head's Off
Zidane cried out, jolting awake, arms flailing as he sat bolt upright. His chest heaved with unrestrained pants as he stared dead ahead, blues eyes wide, a tiny ring of their hue visible in the faint moonlight. His throat was dry, breath rasping as he looked around, taking in his scenery and beginning to calm. His tail, at first stiff and bristling, wilted, and came to curl around his midrift, as if it were a frightened child seeking comfort in the storm. His bed sheets were tangled roughly around his thighs, and his hands rested upon them, shaking slightly, and he could not still them.
"Blank.." The name came out as a hoarse whisper, his long, feminine lashes batting the air as he blinked, vision beginning to blur. Tears pricked in the corners of his eyes, and he sniffed, hands rising now. They pressed to his cheeks as the first salty droplets fell.
Why, why am I dreaming this? Why now? It's been years.. Why now? Seeing him like that.. I can't cope with it...
Zidane closed his eyes, palms digging against them as he tried to force the images his dream had produced from his mind. Blank, his oldest and dearest friend, lying before him, torn apart.. His pale skin tinged green by the endless hi-potions Zidane emptied upon him, and the contrast in the slick, warm fluid which poured from his wounds. The fact that it was all his fault and he couldn't do anything to make right. That maybe he was dying.. that he was dying, and Zidane was powerless to help him.
Finally ridding himself of these thoughts, Zidane shook his head, and shifting to the side and off the bed, he stood. Something was amiss in the world. Moving quietly across the floor boards so as not to disturb his friends, (though his cry was surely enough to wake the dead), he drew the curtains of his window - and gasped.
Mist. Spreading out, as far as the eye could see. Fogging his view, shrouding everything in pessimistic grey. The mist was back. And only one person could have caused it to return.
"Kuja.." Zidane felt more tears blossom and fall on his heated skin, but now they were doused in anger, rather than despair. How could he do this? How could he make it come back?
Growling, Zidane turned from the window, tail lashing behind him furiously. Moving to his closet he flung the doors open, grabbing his usual garb and donning it in a matter of moments. Shoving on his boots, he took up a paper and quill, scribbling a hasty note and throwing it on the bed.
Dagger, and everyone,
Gotta find out what's going on. Be back before you know it.
Zidane.
And - pausing only to tie his hair into the usual style - with that he was gone. He slung his newly alterered Ultima Weapon over one shoulder as he disappeared into the mist, materia glowing eerily, and didn't look back.
Aaaaand now I have NO idea where this is going XD Bet it's going to intrude on people's plots though. Oh well, Zidane was going to go mad if he didn't do anything soon, so at least my sanity is saved!
Um, if anyone wants to have their character see him leave, feel free to reply >>; But he's too far gone to be caught up with now, so this isn't really open for RP XD; Sorry!
- Kazzii
"Blank.." The name came out as a hoarse whisper, his long, feminine lashes batting the air as he blinked, vision beginning to blur. Tears pricked in the corners of his eyes, and he sniffed, hands rising now. They pressed to his cheeks as the first salty droplets fell.
Why, why am I dreaming this? Why now? It's been years.. Why now? Seeing him like that.. I can't cope with it...
Zidane closed his eyes, palms digging against them as he tried to force the images his dream had produced from his mind. Blank, his oldest and dearest friend, lying before him, torn apart.. His pale skin tinged green by the endless hi-potions Zidane emptied upon him, and the contrast in the slick, warm fluid which poured from his wounds. The fact that it was all his fault and he couldn't do anything to make right. That maybe he was dying.. that he was dying, and Zidane was powerless to help him.
Finally ridding himself of these thoughts, Zidane shook his head, and shifting to the side and off the bed, he stood. Something was amiss in the world. Moving quietly across the floor boards so as not to disturb his friends, (though his cry was surely enough to wake the dead), he drew the curtains of his window - and gasped.
Mist. Spreading out, as far as the eye could see. Fogging his view, shrouding everything in pessimistic grey. The mist was back. And only one person could have caused it to return.
"Kuja.." Zidane felt more tears blossom and fall on his heated skin, but now they were doused in anger, rather than despair. How could he do this? How could he make it come back?
Growling, Zidane turned from the window, tail lashing behind him furiously. Moving to his closet he flung the doors open, grabbing his usual garb and donning it in a matter of moments. Shoving on his boots, he took up a paper and quill, scribbling a hasty note and throwing it on the bed.
Dagger, and everyone,
Gotta find out what's going on. Be back before you know it.
Zidane.
And - pausing only to tie his hair into the usual style - with that he was gone. He slung his newly alterered Ultima Weapon over one shoulder as he disappeared into the mist, materia glowing eerily, and didn't look back.
Aaaaand now I have NO idea where this is going XD Bet it's going to intrude on people's plots though. Oh well, Zidane was going to go mad if he didn't do anything soon, so at least my sanity is saved!
Um, if anyone wants to have their character see him leave, feel free to reply >>; But he's too far gone to be caught up with now, so this isn't really open for RP XD; Sorry!
- Kazzii