FFX-2: An Error of Judgement
Title: An Error of Judgement
Rating: G
Word Count: 319
Characters: Paine, Nooj
Notes: Clearly the correct response to losing your writing mojo is to write about a character whose headspace you can't get into - seriously, the headspace I have for Nooj doesn't seem to match the canonical OR the fandom one, and if I had more time I would so rant about it but that isn't the sort of thing you can inflict on people unasked for, really. [SPOILERS FOR PAINE'S PAST.]
The first time he saw Paine was at the trials for the Crimson Squad candidate selection. Most candidates had to demonstrate their magical and fighting abilities; Nooj hadn't. He assumed that his reputation preceded him - if not the part about his skills, then the part where he wouldn't fight any battle that wasn't to the death.
The ring Paine had been in was different to the one the other candidates were in - there were fewer competitors, and the fighting wasn't quite as hard - or at least there were fewer people being dragged out unconscious. Sand marked out the ring, Paine circling with her sword held at angle behind her, the light filtering through the cracks in Mushroom Rock caves and shining on her, on her sword and hair and sweat and leather.
One of the attendants was explaining to him; the recorders were to keep tracks of the candidates progress and provide healing support where necessary. Spies in their camps by another name. Nooj wasn't listening entirely - he was watching her fight. She was fast, ducking under her opponents swing and coming up behind to hit them with the flat of her sword, not quite laughing, but close.
Nooj watched her fight for a while. She was fast, stronger than she looked - she wielded her sword with a grace that made Nooj's missing limbs ache, and a joy he thought he could understand.
And yet once the battle ended - Paine the victor - he dismissed her. She could neither help nor hinder him, so she was of no concern to him.
It took until the day that she dropped her sphere-recorder in the sand in her rush to rescue him - the recorder that never left her even while she was eating or bandaging them up - and dragged him away from the fight herself that he realised he might have misjudged her.
Rating: G
Word Count: 319
Characters: Paine, Nooj
Notes: Clearly the correct response to losing your writing mojo is to write about a character whose headspace you can't get into - seriously, the headspace I have for Nooj doesn't seem to match the canonical OR the fandom one, and if I had more time I would so rant about it but that isn't the sort of thing you can inflict on people unasked for, really. [SPOILERS FOR PAINE'S PAST.]
The first time he saw Paine was at the trials for the Crimson Squad candidate selection. Most candidates had to demonstrate their magical and fighting abilities; Nooj hadn't. He assumed that his reputation preceded him - if not the part about his skills, then the part where he wouldn't fight any battle that wasn't to the death.
The ring Paine had been in was different to the one the other candidates were in - there were fewer competitors, and the fighting wasn't quite as hard - or at least there were fewer people being dragged out unconscious. Sand marked out the ring, Paine circling with her sword held at angle behind her, the light filtering through the cracks in Mushroom Rock caves and shining on her, on her sword and hair and sweat and leather.
One of the attendants was explaining to him; the recorders were to keep tracks of the candidates progress and provide healing support where necessary. Spies in their camps by another name. Nooj wasn't listening entirely - he was watching her fight. She was fast, ducking under her opponents swing and coming up behind to hit them with the flat of her sword, not quite laughing, but close.
Nooj watched her fight for a while. She was fast, stronger than she looked - she wielded her sword with a grace that made Nooj's missing limbs ache, and a joy he thought he could understand.
And yet once the battle ended - Paine the victor - he dismissed her. She could neither help nor hinder him, so she was of no concern to him.
It took until the day that she dropped her sphere-recorder in the sand in her rush to rescue him - the recorder that never left her even while she was eating or bandaging them up - and dragged him away from the fight herself that he realised he might have misjudged her.