Categories > Games > Final Fantasy XII

Eyes Wide Shut

by Xavernus 0 reviews

Wandering thoughts with the main cast and a few others.

Category: Final Fantasy XII - Rating: PG - Genres: Angst, Drama, Fantasy, Humor, Romance - Warnings: [!!!] - Published: 2007-02-15 - Updated: 2007-02-16 - 2066 words - Complete

2Insightful
I do not own the characters, nor the title in a manner of speaking.

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If it's been a hard day, and the rats have gotten too much for him, Vaan retires to the bed Penelo lets him use, in the backroom of the shop. He never asks what it's there for, though he can guess, judging from the stains. And that makes him shudder, wondering what Migelo gets up to at times. That's when he actually makes a gagging sound, because thinking about Migelo doing that when he was younger would make anyone gag, even throw up a little bit. Instead though, he just tosses off the sheets and lies down on the bed, arms behind his head and legs crossed in the air. He never sleeps, but stays there, resting his body with his eyes wide open, and thinks. There are not too many things for him to think about, but the ones he does think about make him want to shut his eyes and not think at all. His brother Reks is one example, and he closes his eyes quickly, trying to block out the image of his brother stretched out in the bed, tied down to stop him from seizing, or sitting in his chair, eyes deadened to the world. But he cannot escape these images, no matter how hard he tries, and Vaan opens his eyes, turning his head to look out the window, up at the sky, dreaming about the day that he will finally become a sky pirate.

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It's become second nature for her mind to wander as she runs errands for Migelo, and Penelo finds her mind doing just that, as she steps outside of yet another shop, and she is just about to hoist her basket up more on her arm when the sun is eclipsed by something, and she looks up, thinking how strange it was that an airship would be passing by just as she was thinking of one. Not one particularly in mind, thank you, but more along the lines of what would happen when Vaan realized that his dream might just be only that - a dream. That maybe it just wasn't in the cards, as the old mystics down in the older parts of town would tell her when she went to go say hello to them. That maybe he would stay here, and maybe, just maybe, be with her until the end of their days, like her parents had been, until they had died. It's when she is suddenly kidnapped and left alone on the ship with only her thoughts to occupy her, that she closes her eyes and thinks that maybe Vaan will achieve his dream. And maybe he'll even include her in them.

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As the smoke clears from his gun, and he allows time to survey the damage around him, Balthier gives a nod and a smirk of satisfaction. "A good job, wouldn't you say," he comments off-handedly to the others, who all roll their eyes at him and just move on ahead, letting him deal with rummaging through the dead creature's things, seeing if there is any gil on them, anything they could perhaps sell for a profit, now that they are running low on change. It makes him laugh in an ironic sort of way, the way that they are trusting a sky pirate to get them their things, and trusting him not to short change them. As he leans down to pick up a pelt, his mind wanders and he remembers the time when he was someone else, when he was trusted with things much more important then just this. He remembers back when he went under a different name, when he wore a suit, not of thin clothe and light armor, but of heavy plates, and an iron sword. When he closes his eyes, he can almost hear his father giving him orders again.

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Her thoughts whirl around her all of the time, just like the Mist she continuously speaks about, and Fran is not particularly concerned by this. She does not like to dwell on the past, like these humes do, and she is unconcerned about the future, unless it means an end to her and the hume she has taken residence with. She has found herself becoming fond of him as the days turn into months, the months turn into years, and she can tell when something is wrong, and that is when she develops a way of thinking that is unlike her. Her mind wanders from time to time, of the day they met, and as she pilots /The Strahl/, her mind takes her back to those events. It is unlike her to dwell on these things, but she decides that one time couldn't hurt, pushing the button for autopilot and leaning back in her chair, eyes closed as she thinks of days gone by.

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She had always felt like the one in charge of their little group, even if she was one of the younger ones. She was around the same age as Vaan and Penelo, and yet, Ashe did not carry the same light-heartedness as they did. She seemed to carry the burden of a thousand souls on her shoulders, and in fact she really did, as she carried the faith of Dalmasca with her, along with the ghost of her beloved, dead now for two years. At night, when she lay in her tent, she would think about these things, the things she must do, the things she had done, and how they did not ever seem much closer to their goal. She would close her eyes, her mind wandering, and imagine Rasler's arms around her, holding her tight, holding her close. And when she woke in the morning, the feeling would still be there, the memory of it would still be with her, and she would feel safe, like she could take on the world. And she would take on the day with a clearer head, her heart only occasionally thinking of times in the past, while her mind was set towards the future.

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It's when he's fighting side by side with Basch that Vossler has to steel his mind from wandering, as the heavy weight of a sword in his hand, and the warmth of Basch by his side has Vossler thinking about the past, when they would train together, and eventually, when they fought together. As they both struck blows at the same time to the giant tortoise, the impact making his arms shake, he thought back to the time when they had both fought in the same battle, when he had told him to leave the boy behind, only to find that the thing they had protected was in fact, gone. As the tortoise collapsed, Vossler allowed his hand to be shaken by the others in congratulations, and watched as Basch gave him a salute. He thought back to a time that it was he that was the one doing the saluting.

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It's when the creature's blood is sprayed on his face, and he makes his way to the little river by the side, that Basch allows his thoughts to wonder a bit, wading out into the recesses of his memory, just as he wades out into the shallow part of the river. Shrugging off his shirt, his customary frown on his face, he dips the shirt into the water and wets it, wringing out the water before cleansing his face with it, the shirt quickly being stained with the blood. He dips the bloody shirt back into the river, then leans back to examine his torso, in case of any nicks or cuts that would have to be taken care of with a potion, or if they had none, a Cure spell. Seeing none, he allowed a rare nod of approval to himself as he wrung out the blood from his shirt. Once the cleaning was done, he leaned down in the water, allowing it to come up to his neck, and taking some time to allow his mind to wander. It usually wandered to their mission, to the things they had to do, but at times like these, when the water was so cool and clean against his skin, he couldn't help but think back to the time when he had just gotten out of the prison, and they allowed him time to clean up. That in turn made him grimace, and he closed his eyes, dipping his head back under the water, thoughts of the way he had been treated in prison running through his head.

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When he's in his rooms and the lights are dimmed down low, that is when Noah, or Judge Gabranth as everyone knows him, takes off his helm and runs a hand through his light blond hair. He's gotten through a day in the sweaty armor, and he knows that tomorrow will be another one, but he relishes the fact, the idea that he is a judge making him preen with pleasure. Dropping his armor off as he goes to the bath, the water already brimming in the tub, he slowly strips of his light underclothes and silently steps into the water, his body making the barest of ripples. Long, toned, and still light from days without the sun on his body, his reflection stares back at him as he grabs the soap and starts rubbing the sweat from his body off. Once he is done with the daily cleaning ritual, he leans back, his head touching the back of the tub, as he sinks down in the water, till it reaches to just above his neck, chin poking out and eyes narrowed in contentment. It's now that he finally allows his mind to wander, to turn to thoughts of his brother and his imprisonment, to thoughts of how his brother had escaped, and where he might be now. He tries to use a connection, some sort of one, to try and find him, but of course fails. They have been separated far too long for there to still be any brotherly love between them, no matter how much the same they might look. With that thought in mind, Noah ducks his head down in the water, wetting his hair as he thinks about the way the King had looked as he took his finally breath, and the blood that had fallen from his slit throat, and the way Basch had looked as he met his brother right in the eye.

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If he's gotten rid of his tutors, and of having Judge Gabranth follow him around all the time, protecting him so to speak, Larsa will go out and roam the streets, hidden under the name of Lamont, though it is getting harder and harder to do that now that things have gotten tenser between the resistance and Archadia. Still, if he hides his face in shadows when someone speaks to him, so to hide the distance Solider profile, he is sure to be fine. So he walks along the streets, and when the sun shines down on him, he smiles, acting his age for once, the serious expression off his face as his thoughts turned to his 'one true love'. He was serious when he thought about Penelo, the thought of her, all light hair and smiles, making him smile himself. He would never do anything to harm her, and he would do everything to prevent her from being harmed, and he closes his eyes. With his eyes closed, he keeps her picture in his mind, even as he begins to plan treaties and alliances.

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When his assistants have left him, and everyone who has wanted a chance to speak with them have had their fill, Vayne retires for the night, donning a sleeping gown and overcoat, gathering books for him to read, planning on his way to treat the people of Rabanastre better then they could ever imagine. With a smile on his sharp features, he thinks up of new ways to show them that Archadian rule is not as bad as they might think, and when his mind begins to wander away from that, he sharply pulls it back to the task at hand. If, and when he lets it wander though, he lets it wander to ways to decimate, and utterly destroy the Dalmascan resistance.
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