(no subject)
Username: lightofeilia
Class: Monk
Title: Apocalypse
Summary: Um. I just spent half an hour trying to come up with one. Figures the one time I come up with a title I can't come up with a summary
Characters/Pairings: Squall Leonhart, Rinoa Heartilly, Ellone (Loire?)
Word count: 931
Rating/warnings: Um... nothing major, one swear word.
"I looked, and there before me was a white horse! Its rider held a bow, and he was given a crown, and he rode out as a conqueror bent on conquest."
Squall never used Lion Heart again, ever since the final battle. Perhaps it was a nod to the past (and simultaneously to the future... time compression really does fuck with one's sense of time), of the hours spent painstakingly searching for the finest materials to forge it, and of the triumph he felt when he cut Ultimecia down. Handling Revolver felt much better, though he couldn't figure out why.
Sometimes, he'd look at Lion Heart in the glass case especially made for it and wonder. Why did it feel uncomfortable to hold it? What was wrong with the grip? Had he.. de-leveled ever since his triumphant return? Was a hero worth nothing more than his conquest?
Often these peculiar thoughts came back to him in the night while holding his very own sorceress, slumbering peacefully beside him.
... it was the right thing to do. Saving the world. From Ultimecia.
... There should be no question about that.
"Then another horse came out, a fiery red one. Its rider was given power to take peace from the earth and to make men slay each other. To him was given a large sword."
Dealing with anti-sorceress propaganda was becoming the norm. Squall was now Commander of Balamb Garden and Ambassador for the Sorceresses. It was really quite the paradox, but Squall couldn't care less. He would do what it takes to save Rinoa, and if holding a united front for the masses meant that he would have to suck it up and take the bad publicity, he'd do it in a heartbeat.
The question is whether or not it was working.
Squall sighed wearily as he stepped into his room after a long day of dealing with the public. Why couldn't people learn that the categories of good and sorceress were NOT mutually exclusive?
He moved to take off his boots when he noticed the glass on the floor.
Looking up, he saw nothing.
______
"Someone stole my gunblade," Squall snarled at Xu, who monitored all security coming in and out of the Garden.
Xu didn't respond, her eyes trained on the screen in front of her, reviewing the security camera reels.
Squall had no doubt that it was probably done by someone of the anti-sorceress group, but he wasn't sure why. What would they do with a gunblade? They would need a gunblade specialist to use that. Seifer was under watch by Garden, there was no one else who could wield it.
After hours of searching, they found nothing that they could trace, and the security measures were reviewed and fast-tracked to the Finance Department for upgrading.
Returning to his room in frustration, he realized that Rinoa was nowhere to be found.
Squall didn't have to wait long to find out where Lion Heart ended up at. The worse part was what it was used for.
"I looked, and there before me was a black horse! Its rider was holding a pair of scales in his hand. Then I heard what sounded like a voice among the four living creatures, saying, "A quart of wheat for a day's wages, and three quarts of barley for a day's wages, and do not damage the oil and the wine!"
Where they came up with this elaborate mechanism, Squall did not know. All he could see was the terror in Rinoa's eyes.
His gunblade lay in the center of the cross, fixed into an upright position. Rinoa's body was hung horizontally above the tip of the blade. The ropes connected to a wooden beam like a makeshift see-saw. On the other side was Ellone, safe from Lionheart, but with a noose around her neck. Her weight on the noose was keeping Rinoa's body from falling onto Lionheart. She wasn't suffocating... yet.
The love of his life, or his sister?
He was too far away to save either one of them. He had no idea where they were. He could only speak his choice, gritted, through the phone whilst the perpetrator smirked at the screen.
He watched as Ellone was released from the noose and Rinoa was plunged stomach-first into his gunblade. He watched her scream.
He also saw the fire in her eyes.
"I looked and there before me was a pale horse! Its rider was named Death, and Hades was following close behind him. They were given power over a fourth of the earth to kill by sword, famine and plague, and by the wild beasts of the earth."
It wasn't consent he gave. Nobody would care, though, in the aftermath. When he chose his sister over his loved one, all everyone else saw was the cruelty of a cornered sorceress clutching desperately at her own life. And then the fear started to spread.
That's how the hunt for sorceresses began.
He'd never live to see the day they turned against their hunters. Perhaps, then, he would have died feeling a little happier and satisfied.
Slowly the sorceresses collected each other, one by one, and they spread the destruction and power of magic across the world. SeeDs were frozen to death and shattered. Politicians and leaders were burnt alive. The war stretched on and on, seemingly forever.
The secret to forging the mythical gunblade Lionheart, said to be able to kill sorceresses in one blow, faded in time.
Death reigned, and there would be no victory forthcoming in the next few millenia.
_____
Once again, exploring the cyclical nature of FFVIII's plot. Overused, I know. Horsemen, psh, so unoriginal, right? Oh well. I haven't written anything in awhile now, so I'm quite pleased with what I managed to throw together here.
Class: Monk
Title: Apocalypse
Summary: Um. I just spent half an hour trying to come up with one. Figures the one time I come up with a title I can't come up with a summary
Characters/Pairings: Squall Leonhart, Rinoa Heartilly, Ellone (Loire?)
Word count: 931
Rating/warnings: Um... nothing major, one swear word.
"I looked, and there before me was a white horse! Its rider held a bow, and he was given a crown, and he rode out as a conqueror bent on conquest."
Squall never used Lion Heart again, ever since the final battle. Perhaps it was a nod to the past (and simultaneously to the future... time compression really does fuck with one's sense of time), of the hours spent painstakingly searching for the finest materials to forge it, and of the triumph he felt when he cut Ultimecia down. Handling Revolver felt much better, though he couldn't figure out why.
Sometimes, he'd look at Lion Heart in the glass case especially made for it and wonder. Why did it feel uncomfortable to hold it? What was wrong with the grip? Had he.. de-leveled ever since his triumphant return? Was a hero worth nothing more than his conquest?
Often these peculiar thoughts came back to him in the night while holding his very own sorceress, slumbering peacefully beside him.
... it was the right thing to do. Saving the world. From Ultimecia.
... There should be no question about that.
"Then another horse came out, a fiery red one. Its rider was given power to take peace from the earth and to make men slay each other. To him was given a large sword."
Dealing with anti-sorceress propaganda was becoming the norm. Squall was now Commander of Balamb Garden and Ambassador for the Sorceresses. It was really quite the paradox, but Squall couldn't care less. He would do what it takes to save Rinoa, and if holding a united front for the masses meant that he would have to suck it up and take the bad publicity, he'd do it in a heartbeat.
The question is whether or not it was working.
Squall sighed wearily as he stepped into his room after a long day of dealing with the public. Why couldn't people learn that the categories of good and sorceress were NOT mutually exclusive?
He moved to take off his boots when he noticed the glass on the floor.
Looking up, he saw nothing.
______
"Someone stole my gunblade," Squall snarled at Xu, who monitored all security coming in and out of the Garden.
Xu didn't respond, her eyes trained on the screen in front of her, reviewing the security camera reels.
Squall had no doubt that it was probably done by someone of the anti-sorceress group, but he wasn't sure why. What would they do with a gunblade? They would need a gunblade specialist to use that. Seifer was under watch by Garden, there was no one else who could wield it.
After hours of searching, they found nothing that they could trace, and the security measures were reviewed and fast-tracked to the Finance Department for upgrading.
Returning to his room in frustration, he realized that Rinoa was nowhere to be found.
Squall didn't have to wait long to find out where Lion Heart ended up at. The worse part was what it was used for.
"I looked, and there before me was a black horse! Its rider was holding a pair of scales in his hand. Then I heard what sounded like a voice among the four living creatures, saying, "A quart of wheat for a day's wages, and three quarts of barley for a day's wages, and do not damage the oil and the wine!"
Where they came up with this elaborate mechanism, Squall did not know. All he could see was the terror in Rinoa's eyes.
His gunblade lay in the center of the cross, fixed into an upright position. Rinoa's body was hung horizontally above the tip of the blade. The ropes connected to a wooden beam like a makeshift see-saw. On the other side was Ellone, safe from Lionheart, but with a noose around her neck. Her weight on the noose was keeping Rinoa's body from falling onto Lionheart. She wasn't suffocating... yet.
The love of his life, or his sister?
He was too far away to save either one of them. He had no idea where they were. He could only speak his choice, gritted, through the phone whilst the perpetrator smirked at the screen.
He watched as Ellone was released from the noose and Rinoa was plunged stomach-first into his gunblade. He watched her scream.
He also saw the fire in her eyes.
"I looked and there before me was a pale horse! Its rider was named Death, and Hades was following close behind him. They were given power over a fourth of the earth to kill by sword, famine and plague, and by the wild beasts of the earth."
It wasn't consent he gave. Nobody would care, though, in the aftermath. When he chose his sister over his loved one, all everyone else saw was the cruelty of a cornered sorceress clutching desperately at her own life. And then the fear started to spread.
That's how the hunt for sorceresses began.
He'd never live to see the day they turned against their hunters. Perhaps, then, he would have died feeling a little happier and satisfied.
Slowly the sorceresses collected each other, one by one, and they spread the destruction and power of magic across the world. SeeDs were frozen to death and shattered. Politicians and leaders were burnt alive. The war stretched on and on, seemingly forever.
The secret to forging the mythical gunblade Lionheart, said to be able to kill sorceresses in one blow, faded in time.
Death reigned, and there would be no victory forthcoming in the next few millenia.
_____
Once again, exploring the cyclical nature of FFVIII's plot. Overused, I know. Horsemen, psh, so unoriginal, right? Oh well. I haven't written anything in awhile now, so I'm quite pleased with what I managed to throw together here.