Categories > Games > Final Fantasy 8 > Between One And Perdition
"Hyne, he's a big one," remarked Irvine, peering carefully over the top of a boulder. "That fucker could bowl with this rock."
"Not a problem," said Squall, shaking his head. His eyes held the green tinge that meant he was using assessment spells while studying it. "Just don't throw lightning at it."
Rinoa was blinking up at the white-skinned, leathery giants. Four, five of them in a group. Any one of them would be trouble. "Then what?"
"Anything else," said Squall. "Just not lightning. They've adapted to being the local lightning rods. Once we're past, it's a clear run to the tower." He hefted his heavy blade thoughtfully. "Irvine - head shots, keep it high. Quistis, Selphie, trip them up and try not to get trampled. Rin, stay back here and slow them down. Zell and I will go for the knees and try to bring them down where we can finish them off."
"Dark shot," said Irvine, looking at them. "Easier to bring 'em down if they don't know which way is up."
"Don't waste your time," said Squall. "Or the ammo. The Force holed up in the tower's managed to stay that way for years, with everyone knowing it's there. We'll need the better shot more once we're inside."
"/Jawohl/," shrugged Irvine, but his tone implied he'd rather have done things his own way. "Rin, how's your aim these days?"
"Pretty good," Rinoa grinned. "You spending hours having me zap pebbles has to be good for /something/..."
Squall looked to Zell, as Selphie and Quistis tested their weapons. He shrugged and nodded. /No problem/.
One by one, the others said "ready", and then Squall gave the signal to attack.
It was all so much easier when they were actually fighting. All the minor bickering disappeared and they flowed right into being a single force. Six fighters into three pairs - Irvine and Rinoa at a distance with bullets and spells, Quistis and Selpie with whip and nunchaku tangling and bludgeoning.
They'd fought together so long it went beyond habit and into intuition - Squall knew when he swung that Zell would not be in the path of the stroke. Knew what it meant when his friend pointed; it meant throw me - which wasn't quite literal, but it tended to look that way. Crouch and quick running step, launching from his back and Zell could aim himself right at his chosen target, wrap and cling and pulverize until the giant stumbled in pain for Squall to behead as it fell. Zell knew, too, what Squall was doing when he ran around one, slicing across the tendons, jump and punch into bone to snap a descending neck or spine. Music, of a kind, rhythm and flow.
"Everybody alive over there?" called Irvine, and one by one the four close combatants called back.
"Didn't waste any shot?" asked Squall.
Irvine shook his head. "Orders are orders. Anything useful on these...things?"
"See for yourself," shrugged Squall. "Maybe."
Quistis was testing her whip, clucking her tongue. "I need to rework this section," she said. "I'll see if they have any metal on them."
"That was fun," remarked Zell. A flicker of a rather fierce smile flashed. "The bigger they are..."
Squall was thinking, /when his hands are higher than your head, your head is level with his groin/. He knew better than to say it, though, only shook his head, amused. They'd always had the most fun taking down giant anything.
"You are covered in blood," chided Rinoa, and promptly threw a water spell at Zell that splashed into the dry earth all around. He came out of it spluttering furiously, his long bangs plastered down his nose.
"You.../witch/!" he griped, though not angrily, and hopped to dripping feet. "Give me a bath, will you? Say hello to a mudfight!" and promptly flung some in her direction, which made her laugh and duck.
"Squall," said Quistis, as Zell promptly engaged Rinoa in a game of tag.
He turned to her, knowing what was coming, and so said nothing as her fingers tested and rebraided sections of her whip.
"He can't stay," she said quietly, nodding minutely at Zell. "He was fine today, but..."
"Quistis, he stays," Squall said firmly, and shrugged. "Maybe Rinoa will be good for him."
Her expression clearly said what she thought of that. "Rinoa can't make up her mind and it'll crack both of them," Quistis predicted. "This is personal for him." And personal, in Quistis' lexicon, was a terrible thing.
Honestly, part of him agreed with her. The good days were getting fewer and farther between. Rinoa was laughing and squeaking and tossing the magical equivalent of water balloons as much because Zell was taking it in good humor as anything else. It wouldn't have been unlikely for him to throw a fit about it. Still... "He fights as well or better than anyone else we could have along."
"Because you're covering for him."
"No." That, Squall could definitely answer. "If I had to cover for him, I'd tell him to stay behind. As I've done before."
"He needs time off," Quistis repeated. "Forced time off...to deal."
"No." Again, Squall was sure, and now grim. "Quistis...he had weeks off. In Garden, when we got it moving." That was not so long ago. Insomnia had been the least of Zell's problems. Claustrophobia, doors slamming, darkness - half the things in Garden had been making him twitch and jump, to the verge of breakdown until Squall practically carried him down to Kadowaki and ordered her to do /something/. He'd learned a lot after she'd sedated Zell into uneasy sleep, and he was sure of his choices. "He needs to face this down, Quistis. It might kill him, yes. If he doesn't face it down he might as well look into a new line of work." He nodded in Zell and Rinoa's direction. "You want to be the one to tell him that? He was given the choice to stay behind and he refused."
"It's your job to keep everyone alive," Quistis snapped. "Not mine. If his - therapy - endangers us -"
"It won't." Flat, sure. "I know him - even wild, I know him. You will get out of this alive, if I've got to drag you."
Quistis studied him a while longer, assessing, then bent her head to her whip repair. "You've got plans in mind."
"Yes." Squall sighed, sat down on a stone, started checking his gunblade for nicks. "If it comes down to it, I'll let him die. Or kill him myself. If it doesn't come down to that, I expect you to follow orders."
"Cold of you." From the tone, it was hard to tell if the observation was compliment or insult.
"My job."
"Not a problem," said Squall, shaking his head. His eyes held the green tinge that meant he was using assessment spells while studying it. "Just don't throw lightning at it."
Rinoa was blinking up at the white-skinned, leathery giants. Four, five of them in a group. Any one of them would be trouble. "Then what?"
"Anything else," said Squall. "Just not lightning. They've adapted to being the local lightning rods. Once we're past, it's a clear run to the tower." He hefted his heavy blade thoughtfully. "Irvine - head shots, keep it high. Quistis, Selphie, trip them up and try not to get trampled. Rin, stay back here and slow them down. Zell and I will go for the knees and try to bring them down where we can finish them off."
"Dark shot," said Irvine, looking at them. "Easier to bring 'em down if they don't know which way is up."
"Don't waste your time," said Squall. "Or the ammo. The Force holed up in the tower's managed to stay that way for years, with everyone knowing it's there. We'll need the better shot more once we're inside."
"/Jawohl/," shrugged Irvine, but his tone implied he'd rather have done things his own way. "Rin, how's your aim these days?"
"Pretty good," Rinoa grinned. "You spending hours having me zap pebbles has to be good for /something/..."
Squall looked to Zell, as Selphie and Quistis tested their weapons. He shrugged and nodded. /No problem/.
One by one, the others said "ready", and then Squall gave the signal to attack.
It was all so much easier when they were actually fighting. All the minor bickering disappeared and they flowed right into being a single force. Six fighters into three pairs - Irvine and Rinoa at a distance with bullets and spells, Quistis and Selpie with whip and nunchaku tangling and bludgeoning.
They'd fought together so long it went beyond habit and into intuition - Squall knew when he swung that Zell would not be in the path of the stroke. Knew what it meant when his friend pointed; it meant throw me - which wasn't quite literal, but it tended to look that way. Crouch and quick running step, launching from his back and Zell could aim himself right at his chosen target, wrap and cling and pulverize until the giant stumbled in pain for Squall to behead as it fell. Zell knew, too, what Squall was doing when he ran around one, slicing across the tendons, jump and punch into bone to snap a descending neck or spine. Music, of a kind, rhythm and flow.
"Everybody alive over there?" called Irvine, and one by one the four close combatants called back.
"Didn't waste any shot?" asked Squall.
Irvine shook his head. "Orders are orders. Anything useful on these...things?"
"See for yourself," shrugged Squall. "Maybe."
Quistis was testing her whip, clucking her tongue. "I need to rework this section," she said. "I'll see if they have any metal on them."
"That was fun," remarked Zell. A flicker of a rather fierce smile flashed. "The bigger they are..."
Squall was thinking, /when his hands are higher than your head, your head is level with his groin/. He knew better than to say it, though, only shook his head, amused. They'd always had the most fun taking down giant anything.
"You are covered in blood," chided Rinoa, and promptly threw a water spell at Zell that splashed into the dry earth all around. He came out of it spluttering furiously, his long bangs plastered down his nose.
"You.../witch/!" he griped, though not angrily, and hopped to dripping feet. "Give me a bath, will you? Say hello to a mudfight!" and promptly flung some in her direction, which made her laugh and duck.
"Squall," said Quistis, as Zell promptly engaged Rinoa in a game of tag.
He turned to her, knowing what was coming, and so said nothing as her fingers tested and rebraided sections of her whip.
"He can't stay," she said quietly, nodding minutely at Zell. "He was fine today, but..."
"Quistis, he stays," Squall said firmly, and shrugged. "Maybe Rinoa will be good for him."
Her expression clearly said what she thought of that. "Rinoa can't make up her mind and it'll crack both of them," Quistis predicted. "This is personal for him." And personal, in Quistis' lexicon, was a terrible thing.
Honestly, part of him agreed with her. The good days were getting fewer and farther between. Rinoa was laughing and squeaking and tossing the magical equivalent of water balloons as much because Zell was taking it in good humor as anything else. It wouldn't have been unlikely for him to throw a fit about it. Still... "He fights as well or better than anyone else we could have along."
"Because you're covering for him."
"No." That, Squall could definitely answer. "If I had to cover for him, I'd tell him to stay behind. As I've done before."
"He needs time off," Quistis repeated. "Forced time off...to deal."
"No." Again, Squall was sure, and now grim. "Quistis...he had weeks off. In Garden, when we got it moving." That was not so long ago. Insomnia had been the least of Zell's problems. Claustrophobia, doors slamming, darkness - half the things in Garden had been making him twitch and jump, to the verge of breakdown until Squall practically carried him down to Kadowaki and ordered her to do /something/. He'd learned a lot after she'd sedated Zell into uneasy sleep, and he was sure of his choices. "He needs to face this down, Quistis. It might kill him, yes. If he doesn't face it down he might as well look into a new line of work." He nodded in Zell and Rinoa's direction. "You want to be the one to tell him that? He was given the choice to stay behind and he refused."
"It's your job to keep everyone alive," Quistis snapped. "Not mine. If his - therapy - endangers us -"
"It won't." Flat, sure. "I know him - even wild, I know him. You will get out of this alive, if I've got to drag you."
Quistis studied him a while longer, assessing, then bent her head to her whip repair. "You've got plans in mind."
"Yes." Squall sighed, sat down on a stone, started checking his gunblade for nicks. "If it comes down to it, I'll let him die. Or kill him myself. If it doesn't come down to that, I expect you to follow orders."
"Cold of you." From the tone, it was hard to tell if the observation was compliment or insult.
"My job."
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