FIC: Half a Year (Paixao)
Title: Half a Year
Author: ShadowSpirit
Rating: PG-13 for lil language
Fandom: Post-Paixao (paixaorpg) // crack-based
Character(s): Naja Salaheem, slight appearance of others.
Word Count: 835
Disclaimer: Paixao is a multi-fandom rpg; none of us own the charries there.
Half a Year
Half a year; she tried to forget, tried to put it out of her mind, but for half a year she had been back in Vana’diel, not even missed even. When she had returned she had been right where she left off, mid-conversation with Abquhbah. She stared at him for the longest time and he finally dropped to silence as her expression changed from calm - she had been so happy before - to realization, to remorse as she fell into her chair, head held tightly in her hands as she shook. Abquhbah ran out of the room without a word, came back with a mug of coffee, and goddammit, she thought of Godot immediately - he always got her the perfect blend, and this wasn’t it. Her breathing hitched. She was scaring her assistant. He never saw her like this; never with such emotion pouring off her.
He asked her what was wrong, what happened, and she couldn’t tell him. She couldn’t tell him and sound sane. She demanded that he left her alone for awhile, and made sure that no one was allowed in, and then she ducked her head low and sobbed.
Half a year; her expression was dull. She flipped through pages of the reports, not really reading them. Half a year since they opened their ports to the Middle Lands. She had many worthy Sentinels under her now, mercenaries that were once adventurers from those lands.
A group moved into her office; several leaders, some of her top-ranking Sentinels. They were each handing off a report and she nodded to a corner of her desk for them to be set; then she heard the sirens and she cringed. The capitol was under attack. She should have known before the siren went off; why hadn’t a scout come and tell her?
She looked up at the group with hazy eyes, then stood up and pointed out to each one as she spoke. “Form up your groups again, there’s a call to arms. Hiru, take your group to the Flameserpent Square. Aul, the Springserpent. Knell, the Bastion. Kano-Tema, Chocobo Alley. Ahjeih, the Galeserpent Square. Miriku, the Victory Gate. Understood? Your orders are to protect the generals; keep the Astral Cadensence safe, keep any citizens safe. GO!”
Once they left, she glanced at the six reports, and then fell back into her chair, looking drained and blocking out the sound of the siren. It would go off soon. After the non-combatants evacuated. This almost seemed… like nothing. She realized that again and again. The monsters were easy to pick off, really. The casualties were never too bad, never that damaged. It was all physical damage. This wasn’t Organization XIII messing with their psyche, and then beating the ever living shit out of them.
She frowned. She had to stop thinking about it. Half a year was surely enough time to forget. And yet the domed city still haunted her mind. Its structures, its people. No matter how much she tried, she was haunted. And President Naja Salaheem hated ghosts. This time, there were so many of them. Fogging over her mind, making work difficult. What she wouldn’t give to have Montblanc’s help. That moogle truly was good at what he did. He was a good ally.
Naja still had Abquhbah, even though she was terrifying him. He stuck around. He was so loyal… She would have trusted him to take care of the company, if she hadn’t been placed back into the timeline correctly…
Angrily, she slammed a fist to her desktop. Why was this coming up again? Why were the ghosts haunting her?
She glared around the room at them: Sara standing the closest to her with a familiar grin (her partner-in-crime); Balthier keeping close to the door, even as a ghost wanting to stay away from her (but she preferred his ghost and not the other him; that hurt too much to think about).
She spited that city for changing her. Almost more than she could handle. And she was reaching, finally after these six months, her breaking point.
She spited Timon sitting on a shelf, an outcast that she wouldn’t admit to accepting, fiddling quietly with the ninja headband. Zetsu eating a delicacy of his. Deidara, waving a hand idly through the air and saying that he could just blow up (“katsu!”) the invaders easily.
“Leave me the fuck alone!” she shouted, slamming both hands down angrily. She thought the Sara-ghost jumped and looked offended, and Timon looked frightened, but the only one that was really, truly in the room with her, was the faithful hume, Abquhbah. He looked nervous and she seethed at him, but tried to hold back. “Go on,” she snapped, “you, too, Abquhbah! Everyone, out!”
He looked around, confused at who else she was talking to, but left quickly all the same.
The ghosts were gone, too, and Naja slumped over her desk weakly.
…who’d have thought that she wanted to go back.
…but there wouldn’t be anyone there.
Cross-posted to paixaowrites <3
Author: ShadowSpirit
Rating: PG-13 for lil language
Fandom: Post-Paixao (paixaorpg) // crack-based
Character(s): Naja Salaheem, slight appearance of others.
Word Count: 835
Disclaimer: Paixao is a multi-fandom rpg; none of us own the charries there.
Half a Year
Half a year; she tried to forget, tried to put it out of her mind, but for half a year she had been back in Vana’diel, not even missed even. When she had returned she had been right where she left off, mid-conversation with Abquhbah. She stared at him for the longest time and he finally dropped to silence as her expression changed from calm - she had been so happy before - to realization, to remorse as she fell into her chair, head held tightly in her hands as she shook. Abquhbah ran out of the room without a word, came back with a mug of coffee, and goddammit, she thought of Godot immediately - he always got her the perfect blend, and this wasn’t it. Her breathing hitched. She was scaring her assistant. He never saw her like this; never with such emotion pouring off her.
He asked her what was wrong, what happened, and she couldn’t tell him. She couldn’t tell him and sound sane. She demanded that he left her alone for awhile, and made sure that no one was allowed in, and then she ducked her head low and sobbed.
Half a year; her expression was dull. She flipped through pages of the reports, not really reading them. Half a year since they opened their ports to the Middle Lands. She had many worthy Sentinels under her now, mercenaries that were once adventurers from those lands.
A group moved into her office; several leaders, some of her top-ranking Sentinels. They were each handing off a report and she nodded to a corner of her desk for them to be set; then she heard the sirens and she cringed. The capitol was under attack. She should have known before the siren went off; why hadn’t a scout come and tell her?
She looked up at the group with hazy eyes, then stood up and pointed out to each one as she spoke. “Form up your groups again, there’s a call to arms. Hiru, take your group to the Flameserpent Square. Aul, the Springserpent. Knell, the Bastion. Kano-Tema, Chocobo Alley. Ahjeih, the Galeserpent Square. Miriku, the Victory Gate. Understood? Your orders are to protect the generals; keep the Astral Cadensence safe, keep any citizens safe. GO!”
Once they left, she glanced at the six reports, and then fell back into her chair, looking drained and blocking out the sound of the siren. It would go off soon. After the non-combatants evacuated. This almost seemed… like nothing. She realized that again and again. The monsters were easy to pick off, really. The casualties were never too bad, never that damaged. It was all physical damage. This wasn’t Organization XIII messing with their psyche, and then beating the ever living shit out of them.
She frowned. She had to stop thinking about it. Half a year was surely enough time to forget. And yet the domed city still haunted her mind. Its structures, its people. No matter how much she tried, she was haunted. And President Naja Salaheem hated ghosts. This time, there were so many of them. Fogging over her mind, making work difficult. What she wouldn’t give to have Montblanc’s help. That moogle truly was good at what he did. He was a good ally.
Naja still had Abquhbah, even though she was terrifying him. He stuck around. He was so loyal… She would have trusted him to take care of the company, if she hadn’t been placed back into the timeline correctly…
Angrily, she slammed a fist to her desktop. Why was this coming up again? Why were the ghosts haunting her?
She glared around the room at them: Sara standing the closest to her with a familiar grin (her partner-in-crime); Balthier keeping close to the door, even as a ghost wanting to stay away from her (but she preferred his ghost and not the other him; that hurt too much to think about).
She spited that city for changing her. Almost more than she could handle. And she was reaching, finally after these six months, her breaking point.
She spited Timon sitting on a shelf, an outcast that she wouldn’t admit to accepting, fiddling quietly with the ninja headband. Zetsu eating a delicacy of his. Deidara, waving a hand idly through the air and saying that he could just blow up (“katsu!”) the invaders easily.
“Leave me the fuck alone!” she shouted, slamming both hands down angrily. She thought the Sara-ghost jumped and looked offended, and Timon looked frightened, but the only one that was really, truly in the room with her, was the faithful hume, Abquhbah. He looked nervous and she seethed at him, but tried to hold back. “Go on,” she snapped, “you, too, Abquhbah! Everyone, out!”
He looked around, confused at who else she was talking to, but left quickly all the same.
The ghosts were gone, too, and Naja slumped over her desk weakly.
…who’d have thought that she wanted to go back.
…but there wouldn’t be anyone there.
Cross-posted to paixaowrites <3