"Camcorder" FFVII Fic for wheatear/Pied
Title: Camcorder
For: wheatear (Pied)
Medium: Fic
Request(s): FFVIII, any SeeDs, the consequences of using GFs. Memory loss, and how that affects their relationships. This can explore romance or friendship, but canon pairings only, please. Irvine/Selphie is fine too.
Fandom(s): Final Fantasy VIII
Characters/Pairings: Rinoa/Squall, Irvine/Selphie
Rating/Warnings: G
Feedback: sure!
Spoilers: orphanage business, and obviously the effects of GF
Word Count: 868
Summary: The preservation of memory, through a more reliable medium, can be both a relief and a burden.
Notes: I tried really hard not to keep the fic completely in Rinoa's head, and throw in some of the actual scenes that you requested. Hopefully I was at least moderately successful. Sorry this is a few days late, I hope you enjoy it anyway. Thanks for pitching in and being a beta for the exchange!!! You rock!!
“Hold it a sec!” Selphie shouts. Rinoa can see her finger working the zoom button on the top of the camcorder. The lens is pointed at Rinoa and Squall’s hands, wrapped around the handle of the cake knife.
The knife that is going to cut the cake. The cake of all cakes, the cake Rinoa has been waiting to cut since she was a girl, the cake that will taste better than any other cake in her life. White as snow, studded with twinkling gems, five feet tall. Almost the same height as Selphie, who is now gesturing impatiently for the two of them to apply pressure to the knife handle.
“Come on, I’m starving over here,” Zell says, his voice heavy with champagne. Rinoa wants to roll her eyes, but Selphie’s camcorder is still staring them in the face, and she wants the videotape of today to be as perfect as the day itself.
It is two years since Ultemecia, and she suspects they all have begun to forget things. Mainly because her memories and Squall’s don’t match up most of the time when they talk about the past
(Rinoa can’t stop looking at the ring on her finger, the blue diamond set in white gold, the etching of Griever on the inside of the band.
“I think I started loving you when you saved me from those gargoyles,” she sighs, he head full of cotton candy. Honey sweetness coursing through her veins.
“When I what?” Squall says, looking up from the menu. They are in Dollet, at a nice restaurant, celebrating the question and the answer that happened this afternoon in, of all places, the parking lot of the Garden.
“You know,” she says, reality starting to seep back into her mind, “when we first faced Edea, in Deling”.
Squall’s face is like a block of wood. His eyes look trapped and frightened as he furrows his brow and tries to remember, and in the end it disturbs her so much that she directs the conversation to the menu, holding it before her face so he will not see her holding back tears)
but also just because she can feel holes in her own mind sometimes. Mostly related to Seifer, who is little more than a name and a steely flash of eyes in her memory now, that and an occasional knotting of her belly that she thinks will pass after today. After the knife sinks into the cake, after the honeymoon in the southern islands, after she moves her things into the Commander’s Quarters at the top of the Garden.
But it unnerves her slightly, that she has begun to forget after so short a time. It doesn’t bother her as much as the idea that the rest of the party forgot growing up together, that the memory of Zell was taken from Squall, that Selphie lost Irvine, that they all lost Matron
(“I mean, do the math, Rinny,” Irvine says, his maple eyes hard and insistent under the shadow of his hat. “It took about eight or nine years of constant GF use for Quistis to completely forget about the orphanage, for Squall and Seifer to remember nothing but that they didn’t like each other. And that was seeing each other all the time. They forgot even though they were still together.”
Rinoa sighs, leaning forward against the stone railing of the Quad balcony. Inside the Garden Festival is in full swing with Selphie at the center, careening around with her new camcorder that Irvine gave her this afternoon. Rinoa was already sick of the taping, and so she had cornered Irvine to ask him what had possessed him to give Selphie the device.
“And now we’re using GF too,” she finishes for him, “and you’re worried that even though we’re all together, the same thing will happen again”.
Silence falls. Irvine rubs the space between his eyes with two fingers.
“We’ll always feel the way we do now,” Irvine says, his voice hard. “Squall and Seifer, Quistis and Squall, they’re proof of that. We won’t forget how we feel, only how we came to feel that way”.
Inside, Selphie is yelling for Irvine. His head pivots in that direction like a dog picking up a scent, and Rinoa sees warmth enter his face.
“So let the cameras roll,” Rinoa says, linking her arm through his. “Film can’t lie, after all. One day we’ll be grateful for that.”)
and, most disturbing of all, that she might lose Squall in a haze of summons, Ruby Light and Siren Song.
“Ready, Rinoa?” Squall says, his voice a deep and perfect rumble that enters her ear and sends shivers down her neck. She feels his hand tighten around hers, feels his thumb trace a few smooth circles against the latticework of delicate bones in the underside of her wrist. She looks up into his eyes, so clear and joyful they border on silver for the first time in her imperfect remembering
(and if they have been silver before it doesn’t matter doesn’t matter)
and she smiles, and places a kiss against the underside of his jaw.
“Smile for the camera,” she whispers, and they press down together.
For: wheatear (Pied)
Medium: Fic
Request(s): FFVIII, any SeeDs, the consequences of using GFs. Memory loss, and how that affects their relationships. This can explore romance or friendship, but canon pairings only, please. Irvine/Selphie is fine too.
Fandom(s): Final Fantasy VIII
Characters/Pairings: Rinoa/Squall, Irvine/Selphie
Rating/Warnings: G
Feedback: sure!
Spoilers: orphanage business, and obviously the effects of GF
Word Count: 868
Summary: The preservation of memory, through a more reliable medium, can be both a relief and a burden.
Notes: I tried really hard not to keep the fic completely in Rinoa's head, and throw in some of the actual scenes that you requested. Hopefully I was at least moderately successful. Sorry this is a few days late, I hope you enjoy it anyway. Thanks for pitching in and being a beta for the exchange!!! You rock!!
“Hold it a sec!” Selphie shouts. Rinoa can see her finger working the zoom button on the top of the camcorder. The lens is pointed at Rinoa and Squall’s hands, wrapped around the handle of the cake knife.
The knife that is going to cut the cake. The cake of all cakes, the cake Rinoa has been waiting to cut since she was a girl, the cake that will taste better than any other cake in her life. White as snow, studded with twinkling gems, five feet tall. Almost the same height as Selphie, who is now gesturing impatiently for the two of them to apply pressure to the knife handle.
“Come on, I’m starving over here,” Zell says, his voice heavy with champagne. Rinoa wants to roll her eyes, but Selphie’s camcorder is still staring them in the face, and she wants the videotape of today to be as perfect as the day itself.
It is two years since Ultemecia, and she suspects they all have begun to forget things. Mainly because her memories and Squall’s don’t match up most of the time when they talk about the past
(Rinoa can’t stop looking at the ring on her finger, the blue diamond set in white gold, the etching of Griever on the inside of the band.
“I think I started loving you when you saved me from those gargoyles,” she sighs, he head full of cotton candy. Honey sweetness coursing through her veins.
“When I what?” Squall says, looking up from the menu. They are in Dollet, at a nice restaurant, celebrating the question and the answer that happened this afternoon in, of all places, the parking lot of the Garden.
“You know,” she says, reality starting to seep back into her mind, “when we first faced Edea, in Deling”.
Squall’s face is like a block of wood. His eyes look trapped and frightened as he furrows his brow and tries to remember, and in the end it disturbs her so much that she directs the conversation to the menu, holding it before her face so he will not see her holding back tears)
but also just because she can feel holes in her own mind sometimes. Mostly related to Seifer, who is little more than a name and a steely flash of eyes in her memory now, that and an occasional knotting of her belly that she thinks will pass after today. After the knife sinks into the cake, after the honeymoon in the southern islands, after she moves her things into the Commander’s Quarters at the top of the Garden.
But it unnerves her slightly, that she has begun to forget after so short a time. It doesn’t bother her as much as the idea that the rest of the party forgot growing up together, that the memory of Zell was taken from Squall, that Selphie lost Irvine, that they all lost Matron
(“I mean, do the math, Rinny,” Irvine says, his maple eyes hard and insistent under the shadow of his hat. “It took about eight or nine years of constant GF use for Quistis to completely forget about the orphanage, for Squall and Seifer to remember nothing but that they didn’t like each other. And that was seeing each other all the time. They forgot even though they were still together.”
Rinoa sighs, leaning forward against the stone railing of the Quad balcony. Inside the Garden Festival is in full swing with Selphie at the center, careening around with her new camcorder that Irvine gave her this afternoon. Rinoa was already sick of the taping, and so she had cornered Irvine to ask him what had possessed him to give Selphie the device.
“And now we’re using GF too,” she finishes for him, “and you’re worried that even though we’re all together, the same thing will happen again”.
Silence falls. Irvine rubs the space between his eyes with two fingers.
“We’ll always feel the way we do now,” Irvine says, his voice hard. “Squall and Seifer, Quistis and Squall, they’re proof of that. We won’t forget how we feel, only how we came to feel that way”.
Inside, Selphie is yelling for Irvine. His head pivots in that direction like a dog picking up a scent, and Rinoa sees warmth enter his face.
“So let the cameras roll,” Rinoa says, linking her arm through his. “Film can’t lie, after all. One day we’ll be grateful for that.”)
and, most disturbing of all, that she might lose Squall in a haze of summons, Ruby Light and Siren Song.
“Ready, Rinoa?” Squall says, his voice a deep and perfect rumble that enters her ear and sends shivers down her neck. She feels his hand tighten around hers, feels his thumb trace a few smooth circles against the latticework of delicate bones in the underside of her wrist. She looks up into his eyes, so clear and joyful they border on silver for the first time in her imperfect remembering
(and if they have been silver before it doesn’t matter doesn’t matter)
and she smiles, and places a kiss against the underside of his jaw.
“Smile for the camera,” she whispers, and they press down together.