Glances at the World's Heroes - Hanging Around
Title: Glances at the World's Heroes - Hanging Around
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Characters/pairings: Ensemble
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Oneshots focusing on Avalanche during their adventures.
Warnings: violence
Notes: Old writing, from way back in the day, in it's mostly original format (very minor corrections may have been made) Generally ignores Advent Children and later. Special guest appearance by Vincent's Mideelic accent (bastardized German)
o o o
Gibbons read the reports with a frown. Six members of Avalanche had been captured off of the Highwind, five humans and the last known member of the great Canyon cats. Two of the humans, Wallace and Lockheart, were in the personal care of Rufus Shinra, the other three and the cat locked in the Junon jail. Of the humans, Strife and Gainsborough, and the mechanical Cait Sith, there was no sign. It was confirmed that the cyborg had boarded the Highwind, but no sign of it had been seen since. Four of the humans and the cat had fought capture fiercely, resulting in five deaths and numerous injuries to Shinra staff, but Lockheart had been unconscious upon arrival.
The man's frowned deepened. While Highwind, Kisragi and the cat, Nanaki, were secure in standard holding cells without additional restraint, Valentine had nearly escaped several times, forcing the guards to use additional restraints. Like chains, strong tranquilizers, and a straitjacket? Gibbons scowled. Such measures should not be necessary for one man, especially not tranqs of the strength listed here, which were strong enough to drop a charging chimera in it's tracks. Maybe someone had gotten the cat and the man mixed up somehow. Standing from his desk, he left his office for the jail.
The first thing he saw, upon arrival, was a cluster of workmen gathered around a cell. Approaching, he saw the bars of the cell had been twisted and warped, as if a giant had tried to force them open. Claw marks slashed across parts of the bars, and the floor of the cell in general was scorched black. The men snapped smartly to attention as they noticed him, and Gibbons turned to the lieutenant in charge. "I assume the cat did this?" He asked calmly.
"Sir, no sir." The other man replied, saluting nervously. "The cat has been little enough trouble, in comparison. Sure, he snarls whenever we get too close, and Markey nearly got his hand bitten off, but no, he's been fine enough. It was Valentine, sir, who did this."
Gibbons scowled again. "How could one man do that?" He spat, pointing at the warped bars.
The lieutenant, his name tag proclaiming him to be named Avers, was sweating visibly. "I don't right know, sir." He said truthfully. "I wasn't on duty when it happened, sir. But the men say that he turned into a monster, sir. All I know is that I wouldn't go into his cell if you paid me, sir. None of us will, sir"
Gibbons snorted in disgust and walked past the man and past the workers struggling to get the warped bars off of the cell. Further down, he encountered the prisoners. Highwind first on the left, sitting on the cell floor against the wall, his head tipped back and his eyes closed, apparently asleep. Then Kisragi on the right, laying on her cot and staring listlessly at the ceiling, barely glancing at him as he passed. Then the cat on the right, restlessly prowling it's cell, growling low in it's throat when it caught him looking at it. And in the last cell on the left, Valentine, and Gibbons stopped short when he saw the man. A heavy straitjacket trapped his arms to his chest and a chain was looped around his body and shoulders, as if the captor hadn't thought the canvas dinner jacket enough.
Apparently, even this wasn't enough, because they had chained Valentine up to hang from the ceiling. By his feet. His black hair nearly swept the floor as he slowly swung back and forth. Gibbons felt a small niggling of worry in the back of his mind. If what Avers had shown was any indication, the man hadn't been touched in three days, since when the report stated the extra measures had been taken. If that was the case, then Valentine's face should be as red as a whore's lips from the blood rushing to his head. But his skin was pale and smooth, as if he'd just flipped himself upside down for a quick moment, and his blood hadn't had time to collect. Suddenly, the man's eyes flashed open, as red as his face should have been. Gibbons fought the urge to swallow nervously as those eyes raked his body, feeling absurdly like a piece of meat being eyed by a predator.
Valentine snorted, disgust and amusement filtering into his eyes. "Guter Gott in Himmel oben," He said calmly, as if he hadn't been hanging by his ankles for three days. "Sie sind hässlicher jedes Mal." Gibbons frowned. He didn't know the language the man spoke, although he thought it might be old Mideelic.
A snort of laughter from the cell over caught his attention. He turned towards Highwind, who still sat on the cell floor. "What did he say?" Gibbons snapped.
Highwind opened one lazy eye to peer at him, smirking. "Well, hello to you, too." He answered. "He said, roughly, 'they keep getting uglier.' I just hope they don't get any uglier than you, Tinkerbell."
Laughter from behind him alerted Gibbons to the Wutaian girl and the cat, both who were watching with interest. He turned back to Valentine, who was watching him with a lazy smile that made him think of a tiger at rest. He cleared his throat, summoning his best stern expression. "I assume you are uncomfortable, no?" He asked the hanging man, trying to quash the feeling of being prey. "If you tell me what I wish to know, I will see to it that you are at least turned upright."
"Hmm, interesting." Valentine replied with a strong accent. "I speak, und you let me down. Most intriguing."
"Don't give into 'em, Val." Highwind called over lazily, his eyes closed again. "Don't let 'em break you, man."
Vincent replied with a long string of Old Mideelic. Gibbons had no idea what it meant, except that it probably wasn't 'Happy Birthday', although it made Cid laugh again. The man looked back up at him, his red eyes thoughtful. "Vat do you vish to know, mein Freund?"
"The exact locations," Gibbons said firmly. "Of Strife, Gainsborough, and Cait Sith."
Instantly he could feel the change in all of them, from lazy humor to...what? Grief? Rage? Or some unholy combination of both? Valentine stared up at him, eyes smoldering. "Cait, we do not know." He said flatly, his accent dropping in his anger and Gibbons thought of the Turks, sleek and deadly. "Strife, we do not know, except that he was in ze crater when we left." Dimly, Gibbons was aware of Highwind at his cell door, watching intently, of the eyes of Kisragi and the cat and the workers boring into them, but the main focus of his attention was Valentine's eyes, which were glowing with a deep, unnatural glow that was far brighter and far beyond any Soldier mako eyes. "But Aerith," He said, his voice barely above a whisper, and pulsing with rage. "Aerith ist dead and deep, beyond the filthy hands of you bastards." Gibbons stared as if hypnotized, realizing far too late that Valentine's pupils were no longer round, but slit. "She ist beyond you all as you are now, but perhaps I can send you closer."
He suddenly curled up on himself, until his head was pulled up near his knees, a hoarse sound of pain and rage escaping his throat. Gibbons stumbled back as the canvas swathed body writhed and humped, lenghtening and stretching, the buckles holding down his arms snapping like rubberbands and the thick hair shrinking, as if growing backwards. Suddenly his hands were free, no longer hands but huge, misshapen claws, and the remaining hair on his head turned scarlet as he reached up, slicing through the shackles around his ankles like knives through butter. He dropped to the floor, twisting in midair like a cat to land on all fours, the chains and the remains of the straightjacket slithering off over his head, which was no longer anything remotely human. Only the eyes remained the same, gleaming hungrily as the wolf-creature threw back it's head, howling at the ceiling.
It leapt forward, coming up on it's hind legs and grabbing the cell bars in it's forepaws. With so little effort it was eerie it pulled the bars apart, stepping through it's inpromptu doorway. Gibbons was backed against the bars of Kisragi's cell, his eyes and mouth wide O's of shock and terror. He stared at the creature towering above him, not noticing when his bladder let go, nor when his knees collapsed, until the creature reached out and stopped him from falling by wrapping a huge paw around his neck. It lifted him off the ground, bringing him close to it, and Gibbons could smell it's breath on his face, like air from a crypt, then the hand tightened and the world went black.
Yuffie grimaced slightly as Galian tossed the man it held back into Vincent's cell and heard his skull crack off the far wall. A starburst of blood marred the metal as the corpse slid to the floor. She stepped back quickly as Galian turned it's baleful red eyes on her, a low growl working up it's throat. Suddenly, a scream from one of the workers caught it's attention. The workers were running and screaming, trying to get out of the jail proper, but were so busy looking back to see if Galian was following them that the ones in back didn't realize they were crushing the ones in front against the door, which swung inwards. It's prey effectivly trapped, Galian snarled and leapt down the hall, turning the place into a bloodbath.
Cid turned his face from the spray of blood and the sounds of screams. He caught sight of Yuffie across the aisle, shaking and curled away from the mess, her hand over her mouth. Nanaki watched Galian calmly. A splintery crack shot through the air, then Galian's roars were moving away, leaving silence. "He's gone." Nanaki said. "He tore the door off it's hinges and left." He paused for a moment. "None of them live."
Yuffie looked at the blood and dismembered bodies that littered the jail house and shuddered. "I hate it when he does that." She said dully.
"Hell, he hates it when he does that." Cid replied, examining the cell-door lock in hopes of picking it somehow. "But ya gotta do what ya gotta- fuck!" He kicked the door sourly, sitting on his cot. "Lousy piece of shit." He muttered.
Nanaki's head snapped up, towards the hole Galian had made for itself. "Someone's coming." He said shortly. Cid stood up again, and Yuffie tensed.
Cait Sith's moogle-doll hopped through the door, Cait himself riding high atop a pile of cloth and leather and metal the doll carried. The toy cat wrinkled it's nose at the mess it traveled through, then hopped down onto a nearby desk. A bit of searching turned up a keycard and he quickly scampered down the cellblock aisle. "Sorry it took me so long, guys." He said, handing the keycard up to Cid. "I had to lay low, and wait for a diversion to get in here." He looked over his shoulder. "I guess Vince made a diversion, huh?"
Cid swiped the card through the lock and grinned as it swung open. "Yeah, as best he could." He replied, tossing Yuffie the card and digging through the moogle's load for his spear. "Didn't run into him, didja?"
Cait shook his head as Yuffie unlocked herself and Nanaki. "Heard him, didn't see him. They kept all your guy's stuff down the hall, Barret and Tifa, too. Speaking of, Rufus Shinra is going to execute them day after tomorrow."
"No, he von't." Replied a voice. Vincent calmly reached over Cid's shoulder to retrieve his holster and cloak from the moogle. "Your ship is vaiting for you on ze upper level, Highvind." He continued, checking his gun's materia. "I take it zat it ist our escape route?"
"Damn straight." Cid replied. "Lead the way, Cait." Cait jumped back onto his moogle and bounced out, followed closely by Nanaki and Yuffie. Vincent moved to follow, but Cid stopped him with a hand to his shoulder. "Val? You all right?" He asked.
Vincent nodded shortly. "I am fine, let us continue." He replied. Which means, in Vin-speak, 'No, but I'm not transforming anytime in the next five minutes so don't waste your time', Cid thought. He let the subject drop and followed the gunman out of the broken door.
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Characters/pairings: Ensemble
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Oneshots focusing on Avalanche during their adventures.
Warnings: violence
Notes: Old writing, from way back in the day, in it's mostly original format (very minor corrections may have been made) Generally ignores Advent Children and later. Special guest appearance by Vincent's Mideelic accent (bastardized German)
o o o
Gibbons read the reports with a frown. Six members of Avalanche had been captured off of the Highwind, five humans and the last known member of the great Canyon cats. Two of the humans, Wallace and Lockheart, were in the personal care of Rufus Shinra, the other three and the cat locked in the Junon jail. Of the humans, Strife and Gainsborough, and the mechanical Cait Sith, there was no sign. It was confirmed that the cyborg had boarded the Highwind, but no sign of it had been seen since. Four of the humans and the cat had fought capture fiercely, resulting in five deaths and numerous injuries to Shinra staff, but Lockheart had been unconscious upon arrival.
The man's frowned deepened. While Highwind, Kisragi and the cat, Nanaki, were secure in standard holding cells without additional restraint, Valentine had nearly escaped several times, forcing the guards to use additional restraints. Like chains, strong tranquilizers, and a straitjacket? Gibbons scowled. Such measures should not be necessary for one man, especially not tranqs of the strength listed here, which were strong enough to drop a charging chimera in it's tracks. Maybe someone had gotten the cat and the man mixed up somehow. Standing from his desk, he left his office for the jail.
The first thing he saw, upon arrival, was a cluster of workmen gathered around a cell. Approaching, he saw the bars of the cell had been twisted and warped, as if a giant had tried to force them open. Claw marks slashed across parts of the bars, and the floor of the cell in general was scorched black. The men snapped smartly to attention as they noticed him, and Gibbons turned to the lieutenant in charge. "I assume the cat did this?" He asked calmly.
"Sir, no sir." The other man replied, saluting nervously. "The cat has been little enough trouble, in comparison. Sure, he snarls whenever we get too close, and Markey nearly got his hand bitten off, but no, he's been fine enough. It was Valentine, sir, who did this."
Gibbons scowled again. "How could one man do that?" He spat, pointing at the warped bars.
The lieutenant, his name tag proclaiming him to be named Avers, was sweating visibly. "I don't right know, sir." He said truthfully. "I wasn't on duty when it happened, sir. But the men say that he turned into a monster, sir. All I know is that I wouldn't go into his cell if you paid me, sir. None of us will, sir"
Gibbons snorted in disgust and walked past the man and past the workers struggling to get the warped bars off of the cell. Further down, he encountered the prisoners. Highwind first on the left, sitting on the cell floor against the wall, his head tipped back and his eyes closed, apparently asleep. Then Kisragi on the right, laying on her cot and staring listlessly at the ceiling, barely glancing at him as he passed. Then the cat on the right, restlessly prowling it's cell, growling low in it's throat when it caught him looking at it. And in the last cell on the left, Valentine, and Gibbons stopped short when he saw the man. A heavy straitjacket trapped his arms to his chest and a chain was looped around his body and shoulders, as if the captor hadn't thought the canvas dinner jacket enough.
Apparently, even this wasn't enough, because they had chained Valentine up to hang from the ceiling. By his feet. His black hair nearly swept the floor as he slowly swung back and forth. Gibbons felt a small niggling of worry in the back of his mind. If what Avers had shown was any indication, the man hadn't been touched in three days, since when the report stated the extra measures had been taken. If that was the case, then Valentine's face should be as red as a whore's lips from the blood rushing to his head. But his skin was pale and smooth, as if he'd just flipped himself upside down for a quick moment, and his blood hadn't had time to collect. Suddenly, the man's eyes flashed open, as red as his face should have been. Gibbons fought the urge to swallow nervously as those eyes raked his body, feeling absurdly like a piece of meat being eyed by a predator.
Valentine snorted, disgust and amusement filtering into his eyes. "Guter Gott in Himmel oben," He said calmly, as if he hadn't been hanging by his ankles for three days. "Sie sind hässlicher jedes Mal." Gibbons frowned. He didn't know the language the man spoke, although he thought it might be old Mideelic.
A snort of laughter from the cell over caught his attention. He turned towards Highwind, who still sat on the cell floor. "What did he say?" Gibbons snapped.
Highwind opened one lazy eye to peer at him, smirking. "Well, hello to you, too." He answered. "He said, roughly, 'they keep getting uglier.' I just hope they don't get any uglier than you, Tinkerbell."
Laughter from behind him alerted Gibbons to the Wutaian girl and the cat, both who were watching with interest. He turned back to Valentine, who was watching him with a lazy smile that made him think of a tiger at rest. He cleared his throat, summoning his best stern expression. "I assume you are uncomfortable, no?" He asked the hanging man, trying to quash the feeling of being prey. "If you tell me what I wish to know, I will see to it that you are at least turned upright."
"Hmm, interesting." Valentine replied with a strong accent. "I speak, und you let me down. Most intriguing."
"Don't give into 'em, Val." Highwind called over lazily, his eyes closed again. "Don't let 'em break you, man."
Vincent replied with a long string of Old Mideelic. Gibbons had no idea what it meant, except that it probably wasn't 'Happy Birthday', although it made Cid laugh again. The man looked back up at him, his red eyes thoughtful. "Vat do you vish to know, mein Freund?"
"The exact locations," Gibbons said firmly. "Of Strife, Gainsborough, and Cait Sith."
Instantly he could feel the change in all of them, from lazy humor to...what? Grief? Rage? Or some unholy combination of both? Valentine stared up at him, eyes smoldering. "Cait, we do not know." He said flatly, his accent dropping in his anger and Gibbons thought of the Turks, sleek and deadly. "Strife, we do not know, except that he was in ze crater when we left." Dimly, Gibbons was aware of Highwind at his cell door, watching intently, of the eyes of Kisragi and the cat and the workers boring into them, but the main focus of his attention was Valentine's eyes, which were glowing with a deep, unnatural glow that was far brighter and far beyond any Soldier mako eyes. "But Aerith," He said, his voice barely above a whisper, and pulsing with rage. "Aerith ist dead and deep, beyond the filthy hands of you bastards." Gibbons stared as if hypnotized, realizing far too late that Valentine's pupils were no longer round, but slit. "She ist beyond you all as you are now, but perhaps I can send you closer."
He suddenly curled up on himself, until his head was pulled up near his knees, a hoarse sound of pain and rage escaping his throat. Gibbons stumbled back as the canvas swathed body writhed and humped, lenghtening and stretching, the buckles holding down his arms snapping like rubberbands and the thick hair shrinking, as if growing backwards. Suddenly his hands were free, no longer hands but huge, misshapen claws, and the remaining hair on his head turned scarlet as he reached up, slicing through the shackles around his ankles like knives through butter. He dropped to the floor, twisting in midair like a cat to land on all fours, the chains and the remains of the straightjacket slithering off over his head, which was no longer anything remotely human. Only the eyes remained the same, gleaming hungrily as the wolf-creature threw back it's head, howling at the ceiling.
It leapt forward, coming up on it's hind legs and grabbing the cell bars in it's forepaws. With so little effort it was eerie it pulled the bars apart, stepping through it's inpromptu doorway. Gibbons was backed against the bars of Kisragi's cell, his eyes and mouth wide O's of shock and terror. He stared at the creature towering above him, not noticing when his bladder let go, nor when his knees collapsed, until the creature reached out and stopped him from falling by wrapping a huge paw around his neck. It lifted him off the ground, bringing him close to it, and Gibbons could smell it's breath on his face, like air from a crypt, then the hand tightened and the world went black.
Yuffie grimaced slightly as Galian tossed the man it held back into Vincent's cell and heard his skull crack off the far wall. A starburst of blood marred the metal as the corpse slid to the floor. She stepped back quickly as Galian turned it's baleful red eyes on her, a low growl working up it's throat. Suddenly, a scream from one of the workers caught it's attention. The workers were running and screaming, trying to get out of the jail proper, but were so busy looking back to see if Galian was following them that the ones in back didn't realize they were crushing the ones in front against the door, which swung inwards. It's prey effectivly trapped, Galian snarled and leapt down the hall, turning the place into a bloodbath.
Cid turned his face from the spray of blood and the sounds of screams. He caught sight of Yuffie across the aisle, shaking and curled away from the mess, her hand over her mouth. Nanaki watched Galian calmly. A splintery crack shot through the air, then Galian's roars were moving away, leaving silence. "He's gone." Nanaki said. "He tore the door off it's hinges and left." He paused for a moment. "None of them live."
Yuffie looked at the blood and dismembered bodies that littered the jail house and shuddered. "I hate it when he does that." She said dully.
"Hell, he hates it when he does that." Cid replied, examining the cell-door lock in hopes of picking it somehow. "But ya gotta do what ya gotta- fuck!" He kicked the door sourly, sitting on his cot. "Lousy piece of shit." He muttered.
Nanaki's head snapped up, towards the hole Galian had made for itself. "Someone's coming." He said shortly. Cid stood up again, and Yuffie tensed.
Cait Sith's moogle-doll hopped through the door, Cait himself riding high atop a pile of cloth and leather and metal the doll carried. The toy cat wrinkled it's nose at the mess it traveled through, then hopped down onto a nearby desk. A bit of searching turned up a keycard and he quickly scampered down the cellblock aisle. "Sorry it took me so long, guys." He said, handing the keycard up to Cid. "I had to lay low, and wait for a diversion to get in here." He looked over his shoulder. "I guess Vince made a diversion, huh?"
Cid swiped the card through the lock and grinned as it swung open. "Yeah, as best he could." He replied, tossing Yuffie the card and digging through the moogle's load for his spear. "Didn't run into him, didja?"
Cait shook his head as Yuffie unlocked herself and Nanaki. "Heard him, didn't see him. They kept all your guy's stuff down the hall, Barret and Tifa, too. Speaking of, Rufus Shinra is going to execute them day after tomorrow."
"No, he von't." Replied a voice. Vincent calmly reached over Cid's shoulder to retrieve his holster and cloak from the moogle. "Your ship is vaiting for you on ze upper level, Highvind." He continued, checking his gun's materia. "I take it zat it ist our escape route?"
"Damn straight." Cid replied. "Lead the way, Cait." Cait jumped back onto his moogle and bounced out, followed closely by Nanaki and Yuffie. Vincent moved to follow, but Cid stopped him with a hand to his shoulder. "Val? You all right?" He asked.
Vincent nodded shortly. "I am fine, let us continue." He replied. Which means, in Vin-speak, 'No, but I'm not transforming anytime in the next five minutes so don't waste your time', Cid thought. He let the subject drop and followed the gunman out of the broken door.