Fic. "Damn the Man"
Remember " We Meet on the Field of Onion"? Sure you do. I managed to flesh out the events leading to Zack's challenge to the point where I was happy with it. Please don't mind the lameness. This is a younger Zack, after all.
Zack knew he'd never make it at court. Too much shit was going against him.
He'd made something of a friend in Caesar, but the kid was, well, a kid. He was good for a board game, but not much else. Besides, his grandfather was kind of a kook, his older brother needed to get the stick out of his ass but quick, and their bodyguard was just freaking weird.
Most of the girls his age were trying to jump him. This was good for his ego and all, but Zack knew all they wanted was to get knocked up so that a marriage could be arranged. Pulling all that shit to get written into the will of an immortal was probably the stupidest thing in the history of stupid things.
So, that pretty much left Zack with target practice. Guys didn't tend to make friends with the guy that all the girls wanted to jump. Especially if said guy only got what was coming to him because he'd been adopted instead of getting it the old fashioned way of being born.
Probably why he needed to stick up for himself.
It all started when he was hanging out with Caesar, using the kid as an excuse not to bother with the snobs. Well, maybe that wasn't exactly right. It was more like "A nine year old kicking his ass in shogi". The kid was gracious about it, at least.
"How fitting. Like attracting like even extends to our relations of the robe."
Caesar ignored the comment, and finished up his turn. Zack bristled. Fuck the tuning out, fuck being shown up on manners by a nine year old. (Not like Caesar wasn't owning him in shogi, after all.) This was to make them stop, or at least insult someone like they meant it. "Hey, at least be smart enough not to make fun of someone when they're in earshot, dickwad."
"Did your earlier upbringing allow you to gain such an impressive vocabulary?"
Zack grinned. "You know it, Poncy McLacypants."
Poncy scowled, whipped off a glove, swiped Zack's face with it, and dropped it to the ground.
Zack, still grinning, picked up the glove and threw it back in his face.
"Do you realize what you've done?" Poncy jammed his fingers back into the glove.
Zack rolled his eyes. "Accepted your challenge to a duel. Duh. Water balloons after dinner, or should I kick your ass now?"
Poncy placed a hand onto the riced-out rapier at his hip. He fiddled around with it, then pulled away. Wuss. "My second will inform you of the field of honor." Poncy bowed. "Young Master Strife, Young Master Silverberg." He smoothly turned on his heel and left.
Zack felt like smacking the jerk. Then Zack felt like smacking himself. Cloud was going to kill him. "I'm screwed," he moaned. He slumped down onto the shogi board. His Silver General was digging into his forehead.
His musings on his impending doom were interrupted by Caesar. "It's not like Git fon Gittingson, Baron Gitting of Gitsford on Gitshire didn't have it coming." Caesar snorted, a noise that he made sound like a kitten sneezing. "Just 'cause someone said we could get a pass to the palace and his family made someone give it to them."
Zack, still planted on the game board, smiled. Giving the finger to protocol would live on. He could die in peace.
Zack knew he'd never make it at court. Too much shit was going against him.
He'd made something of a friend in Caesar, but the kid was, well, a kid. He was good for a board game, but not much else. Besides, his grandfather was kind of a kook, his older brother needed to get the stick out of his ass but quick, and their bodyguard was just freaking weird.
Most of the girls his age were trying to jump him. This was good for his ego and all, but Zack knew all they wanted was to get knocked up so that a marriage could be arranged. Pulling all that shit to get written into the will of an immortal was probably the stupidest thing in the history of stupid things.
So, that pretty much left Zack with target practice. Guys didn't tend to make friends with the guy that all the girls wanted to jump. Especially if said guy only got what was coming to him because he'd been adopted instead of getting it the old fashioned way of being born.
Probably why he needed to stick up for himself.
It all started when he was hanging out with Caesar, using the kid as an excuse not to bother with the snobs. Well, maybe that wasn't exactly right. It was more like "A nine year old kicking his ass in shogi". The kid was gracious about it, at least.
"How fitting. Like attracting like even extends to our relations of the robe."
Caesar ignored the comment, and finished up his turn. Zack bristled. Fuck the tuning out, fuck being shown up on manners by a nine year old. (Not like Caesar wasn't owning him in shogi, after all.) This was to make them stop, or at least insult someone like they meant it. "Hey, at least be smart enough not to make fun of someone when they're in earshot, dickwad."
"Did your earlier upbringing allow you to gain such an impressive vocabulary?"
Zack grinned. "You know it, Poncy McLacypants."
Poncy scowled, whipped off a glove, swiped Zack's face with it, and dropped it to the ground.
Zack, still grinning, picked up the glove and threw it back in his face.
"Do you realize what you've done?" Poncy jammed his fingers back into the glove.
Zack rolled his eyes. "Accepted your challenge to a duel. Duh. Water balloons after dinner, or should I kick your ass now?"
Poncy placed a hand onto the riced-out rapier at his hip. He fiddled around with it, then pulled away. Wuss. "My second will inform you of the field of honor." Poncy bowed. "Young Master Strife, Young Master Silverberg." He smoothly turned on his heel and left.
Zack felt like smacking the jerk. Then Zack felt like smacking himself. Cloud was going to kill him. "I'm screwed," he moaned. He slumped down onto the shogi board. His Silver General was digging into his forehead.
His musings on his impending doom were interrupted by Caesar. "It's not like Git fon Gittingson, Baron Gitting of Gitsford on Gitshire didn't have it coming." Caesar snorted, a noise that he made sound like a kitten sneezing. "Just 'cause someone said we could get a pass to the palace and his family made someone give it to them."
Zack, still planted on the game board, smiled. Giving the finger to protocol would live on. He could die in peace.