TLR and Star Ocean fic
May. 4th, 2010 06:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
clonechildI was also planning to write some FFXIII stuff, but it isn't finished yet, even though it is short and not plotty.
Anyway, I really wanted to write about Nora and the Ladies of Bloody Alice, but I can't write something long and interesting to save my life, so it's short and sucky.
- - -
Nora had always defined her life in ‘before’ and ‘after’. ‘Before’ meant the streets; begging for money and stealing whatever scraps of food she could get her hands on, trying to sell her body when she got too hungry, looking malnourished and filthy. ‘After’ meant working for the Third Committee.
The Ladies of Bloody Alice were all orphans, plucked out of the gutter by the researchers. The work they did wasn’t any less dirty than what she did ‘before’, but unlike then, she got food, clean clothes, a place to bathe and a bed that was definitely softer than the cobblestones. She had… not friends, but… comrades, yes, that was the better word, around to joke with her.
She’d never have thought there’d be another ‘after’.
And now ‘before’ was just before, and ‘after’ meant spending all her cash on food, trying desperately not to starve, running around with a kid that didn’t seem to get how the world operated, a ragtag bunch of mercenaries (she among them) and a marquis.
Not that it mattered. As long as it made her money. She may have lost a lot at the divide between the new ‘before’ and ‘after’, but she still had the Ladies. And rough as they might be, they all agreed on one thing.
Revenge.
- - -
And I recently started playing Star Ocean: First Departure. I was sort of :| about it until I entered Van. Drunken antics ensued. Millie grew on me after she started crushing on Mavelle; she was so much more boring when all you knew about her was that the game thought you should ship her with the hero. Also, I started shipping Ioshua/Cyuss the moment Ioshua introduced himself with, 'oh hi highlander. your muscles look nice. may i borrow you for a moment?' Paraphrased of course, but still.
In this fic there are no drunken antics, because Ronyx and Ioshua do not approve. It also proves that I can't write groups.
- - -
‘…And have you seen her hair? So smooth and glossy, and with those gorgeous waves! And the way she killed that monster, throwing that orb out… she was so graceful!’ Millie sighed dreamily and went on another ode to Mavelle’s skin. Or eyes. Or battle prowess, Ilia honestly didn’t know since she’d tuned the girl out the moment the bartender had served her a new drink.
The liquor in the Van Kingdom was definitely stronger than in Astral. Grape basis, not rice, and very nicely ripened. Kept in good-quality barrels, by the taste of it…
‘…and did you see how she incinerated that zombie? Oh, how beautiful she looked, with the flames dancing from her hand and –’
At least she was lucky the captain hadn’t noticed Mavelle’s many talents, as Millie so obviously had. Or should she count herself unlucky instead, because if the captain didn’t even notice that…
Ioshua floated into the room, interrupting Millie’s rapturous extolling of Mavelle’s virtues.
‘The others are coming back,’ he said quietly, folding his wings neatly behind his back and walking to the table, though he didn’t take a seat.
‘Oh!’ Millie veered up from her chair. ‘Bartender! Four fruit shakes and a beer, please!’ She slid into her seat again and beamed at Ilia. ‘I bet they can use something to drink. I hope they’ve brought back some news.’
‘A-ah, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea…’ Ioshua made a vague motion with one hand at the bar. ‘Perhaps the captain has something to say.’
‘Nonsense,’ Ilia laughed, putting her glass down. ‘Everyone can always use a drink!’ A frown. ‘Except Cyuss. He obviously does not care for the finer qualities of alcohol.’
‘But still…’
Ioshua’s feeble protests were overshadowed, however, when the door to the bar burst open to admit the rest of their party, Cyuss at their front, the flickering light in the room deepening the colour of the markings on his body.
Millie jumped up again. ‘Welcome back! How are you all? Anybody harmed?’
‘We’re all fine, no injuries some berries couldn’t handle.’ Roddick gave her a comforting smile, holding out his hands. ‘See? Still got all my fingers.’
Placing a hand on Cyuss’ shoulder to push him gently out of the way, as he was still blocking the door, Ronyx walked to the head of the table. ‘Alright, everyone, when we were out we found out that –’
He was interrupted by the bartender bringing their drinks. Cyuss laughed, loud and wild, draining half of his beer in one gulp. Ilia huffed.
‘You,’ she said snippily, ‘have absolutely no class. Nor taste.’
‘Shit, woman!’ The Highlander gave her an irritated look. ‘Maybe I don’t drink for class! It’ll just cost me more money to get drunk and we’re not exactly swimming in fol, now are we? What with those new shoes you wanted so badly.’
Ilia’s fingers clenched around the fragile stem of her glass. ‘Well, maybe some of us don’t drink merely to become inebriated,’ she said icily. ‘And maybe –’
She was cut off by a sigh from the captain.
‘Calm down, please,’ he said. ‘Could everyone please put down their drinks? We’ve got some news to tell you and I don’t want a repeat of last time.’
‘Don’t be so stiff, captain! The news will still be here tomorrow, won’t it?’ his second-in-command said cheerily. No one came between Ilia and her alcohol. Not even her captain.
Cyuss made some noise in his glass that could, loosely, be interpreted as agreement. Millie was gushing to Mavelle and Roddick about how good the mango shakes here were, before taking a sip and noticing it was – once again – pineapple. Ronyx looked pained.
And then Ioshua whipped around, startled, wings unfurling in a reflex, long white feathers brushing over the table and sweeping all their glasses over. Cyuss cursed when he spilled his beer all over his torso, Ilia making sounds of dismay as her expensive cocktail spread over the wooden table and dripped onto the floor.
‘Ioshua, what –’ Roddick’s hands were sticky with his fruit shake, and Mavelle and Millie had jumped up in order to prevent their own shakes from falling all over their dresses.
Ioshua turned around again. ‘I apologize,’ he murmured, eyes downcast, looking as depressed as he always did when he did something wrong. ‘I thought I saw something… but it is gone now. It was most likely simply a shadow.’
Cyuss cursed some more under his breath, then looked up. ‘Man, I’m going to wash up. Don’t get drunk without me!’ The liquid ran in tiny rivulets down his arms and chest, glistening in the soft light and oh, that was definitely a very nice view, Ilia thought absently. Cyuss’ personality may not have been up to scratch, but at least he knew how to look good. Roddick hadn’t noticed, dashing after him to go clean up as well, but she saw Ioshua’s eyes sweep slowly down the Highlander’s body as Cyuss left the room.
‘Come on, Mavelle, Ilia,’ Millie said sadly. ‘Let’s get some dry clothes. Oh, Ilia, your skirt!’
‘I know,’ the woman said, grimacing. Her skirt was glued to her legs, the sturdy fabric dark and sticky. Mavelle carefully stepped over some spill on the floor, lifting up her hemline so it wouldn’t drag in the liquor. Commiserating at each other, they left the room, Ioshua making apologetic faces at their backs.
‘Well,’ Ronyx said carefully, looking between the waitress who was cleaning the floor and Ioshua’s suspiciously blank face. ‘Not quite the method I’d have used, but you have my thanks all the same. It wouldn’t do for everything to end the way it did last time.’
Ioshua gave a weary sigh. ‘I know. Getting them to bed was, ah,’ he searched for words for a moment, ‘an experience.’
‘We might consider imposing some rules about liquor consumption if everything is to go smoothly.’ Ronyx rubbed his temples and turned around. ‘Bartender, if you would, please ignore whatever they order when it concerns alcoholic beverages. Now, Ioshua, let’s ambush them before come bustling in again, ready to start over. I have news they might want to hear.’
- - -
Because for some reason Ilia's armour is always more expensive than what the rest of them wear.
Anyway, I really wanted to write about Nora and the Ladies of Bloody Alice, but I can't write something long and interesting to save my life, so it's short and sucky.
- - -
Nora had always defined her life in ‘before’ and ‘after’. ‘Before’ meant the streets; begging for money and stealing whatever scraps of food she could get her hands on, trying to sell her body when she got too hungry, looking malnourished and filthy. ‘After’ meant working for the Third Committee.
The Ladies of Bloody Alice were all orphans, plucked out of the gutter by the researchers. The work they did wasn’t any less dirty than what she did ‘before’, but unlike then, she got food, clean clothes, a place to bathe and a bed that was definitely softer than the cobblestones. She had… not friends, but… comrades, yes, that was the better word, around to joke with her.
She’d never have thought there’d be another ‘after’.
And now ‘before’ was just before, and ‘after’ meant spending all her cash on food, trying desperately not to starve, running around with a kid that didn’t seem to get how the world operated, a ragtag bunch of mercenaries (she among them) and a marquis.
Not that it mattered. As long as it made her money. She may have lost a lot at the divide between the new ‘before’ and ‘after’, but she still had the Ladies. And rough as they might be, they all agreed on one thing.
Revenge.
- - -
And I recently started playing Star Ocean: First Departure. I was sort of :| about it until I entered Van. Drunken antics ensued. Millie grew on me after she started crushing on Mavelle; she was so much more boring when all you knew about her was that the game thought you should ship her with the hero. Also, I started shipping Ioshua/Cyuss the moment Ioshua introduced himself with, 'oh hi highlander. your muscles look nice. may i borrow you for a moment?' Paraphrased of course, but still.
In this fic there are no drunken antics, because Ronyx and Ioshua do not approve. It also proves that I can't write groups.
- - -
‘…And have you seen her hair? So smooth and glossy, and with those gorgeous waves! And the way she killed that monster, throwing that orb out… she was so graceful!’ Millie sighed dreamily and went on another ode to Mavelle’s skin. Or eyes. Or battle prowess, Ilia honestly didn’t know since she’d tuned the girl out the moment the bartender had served her a new drink.
The liquor in the Van Kingdom was definitely stronger than in Astral. Grape basis, not rice, and very nicely ripened. Kept in good-quality barrels, by the taste of it…
‘…and did you see how she incinerated that zombie? Oh, how beautiful she looked, with the flames dancing from her hand and –’
At least she was lucky the captain hadn’t noticed Mavelle’s many talents, as Millie so obviously had. Or should she count herself unlucky instead, because if the captain didn’t even notice that…
Ioshua floated into the room, interrupting Millie’s rapturous extolling of Mavelle’s virtues.
‘The others are coming back,’ he said quietly, folding his wings neatly behind his back and walking to the table, though he didn’t take a seat.
‘Oh!’ Millie veered up from her chair. ‘Bartender! Four fruit shakes and a beer, please!’ She slid into her seat again and beamed at Ilia. ‘I bet they can use something to drink. I hope they’ve brought back some news.’
‘A-ah, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea…’ Ioshua made a vague motion with one hand at the bar. ‘Perhaps the captain has something to say.’
‘Nonsense,’ Ilia laughed, putting her glass down. ‘Everyone can always use a drink!’ A frown. ‘Except Cyuss. He obviously does not care for the finer qualities of alcohol.’
‘But still…’
Ioshua’s feeble protests were overshadowed, however, when the door to the bar burst open to admit the rest of their party, Cyuss at their front, the flickering light in the room deepening the colour of the markings on his body.
Millie jumped up again. ‘Welcome back! How are you all? Anybody harmed?’
‘We’re all fine, no injuries some berries couldn’t handle.’ Roddick gave her a comforting smile, holding out his hands. ‘See? Still got all my fingers.’
Placing a hand on Cyuss’ shoulder to push him gently out of the way, as he was still blocking the door, Ronyx walked to the head of the table. ‘Alright, everyone, when we were out we found out that –’
He was interrupted by the bartender bringing their drinks. Cyuss laughed, loud and wild, draining half of his beer in one gulp. Ilia huffed.
‘You,’ she said snippily, ‘have absolutely no class. Nor taste.’
‘Shit, woman!’ The Highlander gave her an irritated look. ‘Maybe I don’t drink for class! It’ll just cost me more money to get drunk and we’re not exactly swimming in fol, now are we? What with those new shoes you wanted so badly.’
Ilia’s fingers clenched around the fragile stem of her glass. ‘Well, maybe some of us don’t drink merely to become inebriated,’ she said icily. ‘And maybe –’
She was cut off by a sigh from the captain.
‘Calm down, please,’ he said. ‘Could everyone please put down their drinks? We’ve got some news to tell you and I don’t want a repeat of last time.’
‘Don’t be so stiff, captain! The news will still be here tomorrow, won’t it?’ his second-in-command said cheerily. No one came between Ilia and her alcohol. Not even her captain.
Cyuss made some noise in his glass that could, loosely, be interpreted as agreement. Millie was gushing to Mavelle and Roddick about how good the mango shakes here were, before taking a sip and noticing it was – once again – pineapple. Ronyx looked pained.
And then Ioshua whipped around, startled, wings unfurling in a reflex, long white feathers brushing over the table and sweeping all their glasses over. Cyuss cursed when he spilled his beer all over his torso, Ilia making sounds of dismay as her expensive cocktail spread over the wooden table and dripped onto the floor.
‘Ioshua, what –’ Roddick’s hands were sticky with his fruit shake, and Mavelle and Millie had jumped up in order to prevent their own shakes from falling all over their dresses.
Ioshua turned around again. ‘I apologize,’ he murmured, eyes downcast, looking as depressed as he always did when he did something wrong. ‘I thought I saw something… but it is gone now. It was most likely simply a shadow.’
Cyuss cursed some more under his breath, then looked up. ‘Man, I’m going to wash up. Don’t get drunk without me!’ The liquid ran in tiny rivulets down his arms and chest, glistening in the soft light and oh, that was definitely a very nice view, Ilia thought absently. Cyuss’ personality may not have been up to scratch, but at least he knew how to look good. Roddick hadn’t noticed, dashing after him to go clean up as well, but she saw Ioshua’s eyes sweep slowly down the Highlander’s body as Cyuss left the room.
‘Come on, Mavelle, Ilia,’ Millie said sadly. ‘Let’s get some dry clothes. Oh, Ilia, your skirt!’
‘I know,’ the woman said, grimacing. Her skirt was glued to her legs, the sturdy fabric dark and sticky. Mavelle carefully stepped over some spill on the floor, lifting up her hemline so it wouldn’t drag in the liquor. Commiserating at each other, they left the room, Ioshua making apologetic faces at their backs.
‘Well,’ Ronyx said carefully, looking between the waitress who was cleaning the floor and Ioshua’s suspiciously blank face. ‘Not quite the method I’d have used, but you have my thanks all the same. It wouldn’t do for everything to end the way it did last time.’
Ioshua gave a weary sigh. ‘I know. Getting them to bed was, ah,’ he searched for words for a moment, ‘an experience.’
‘We might consider imposing some rules about liquor consumption if everything is to go smoothly.’ Ronyx rubbed his temples and turned around. ‘Bartender, if you would, please ignore whatever they order when it concerns alcoholic beverages. Now, Ioshua, let’s ambush them before come bustling in again, ready to start over. I have news they might want to hear.’
- - -
Because for some reason Ilia's armour is always more expensive than what the rest of them wear.