Categories > Games > Final Fantasy 8 > Fated Children
Our first mission as a squad was a station out near Dollet. We were to collect information from the town without entering or engaging with any of the citizens of the City of Dollet, then return to Deling with that information.
Easy enough, right?
"Kiros, I'm really sorry."
"You should be. I think you broke my damn arm."
"I didn't know you were there!"
Ward was watching us with laughter in his eyes, working quickly to pitch the tiny pup-tents while Kiros managed to remove the left sleeve of his uniform to inspect the damage I'd done when I'd been playing around with Ward's . . . spear. Anchor. Thing.
Really, they just shouldn't give people giant chunks of ships as weaponry, and then we wouldn't have this problem.
It didn't really help that it was rainy and miserable, and we were all soaked to the skin and about twenty miles away from the actual border between Galbadia and Dollet. Kiros kept shooting me annoyed little looks, as though it was somehow my fault that it was raining. I sighed, dug through my things, and handed him a HiPotion.
"Do those work for busted arms?" Ward asked mockingly. "We're set up."
"It's not /broken/," I whined, grabbing for Kiros' arm just to prove that: One, it wasn't broken; and Two, I wasn't anywhere near big and strong enough to swing the damn thing hard enough to break bones.
Kiros flinched away, walked haughtily over to his pup-tent, and disappeared. Ward looked around at the dismal weather, sighed, and offered to take first watch. I crawled into my own pup-tent-it was on a puddle/-and tried to ignore that fact that every single bone in my body wanted to jump up, drag Kiros out of his tent, and tell him he needed to stop being such a /prick about everything.
I think, maybe, that a bit of his hostility had to do with the thing he thought he'd seen with that pianist girl the night before ranking. I knew that a decent chunk of his hostility had to do with the fact that I'd made Corporal at ranking, and he'd made Private First Class. And maybe a small fraction of it had to do with stupid things: the weather, having a massively bruised shoulder, being stuck in pup-tents in the rain unable to avoid Ward . . .
Okay, okay. So the last one was something rubbing my nerves. So sue me. I was feeling a little homesick, and just wanted to spend some time, alone/, with Kiros. That last night had been nice. We hadn't /done anything, but it had been nice to just lie in bed together and not have to worry about officers and curfew and the fact that Men Do Not Cuddle.
Thinking of that, I wondered which of our fathers had imparted that lovely sentiment. Because it /sucked/.
The puddle was starting to make my sleeping pad all wet and cold. I shifted onto the dry spot, swore under my breath, and stared out into the rain stupidly. With all the rain, I'd never get to sleep. So I might as well /watch it/.
A few hours later, Ward came and got me, and I, grumbling, went out to watch the camp. "Just in case," officers were always telling us. Just in case /what/? Nobody on the continent was stupid enough to attack a bunch of fully armed Galbadian soldiers. Even the monsters were avoiding the rain as much as possible.
One of the pup-tents shifted, but I kept my eyes fixed on oiling my gun under the small tarp that served as our look out shelter. The wind was cold at my back, bringing icy rain water with me.
But it stopped, for just a moment, and then there was a warm body right against my back. I fixed together the machine gun and sarcastically asked, "Shouldn't you be healing your broken arm?"
"I'm sorry," he whispered. I shook my head.
"No you're not. You're angry. And I understand that. Now, if you don't mind, I have to make sure that the nothing that is going to happen is not going to happen. Or going to happen? Anyways." I thought about dissembling the machine gun and oiling it down again . That would be the third time.
He sat down in the mud at my hip, and stared out into the surrounding forest with me. After some amount of time that I was not ticking away in the back of my head-/I wasn't!/-his hand slid up from where it had been sitting on his leg, and found mine.
His hands were really warm. And I was really, really cold. So sue me. I can be Manly all I want and still hold my boyfriend-devotee-lover-/whatever/'s hand.
"I didn't break your arm." Really, I should learn how to keep my big mouth /shut/, I suppose.
"I know."
The rain kept falling. And I kept being a little homesick and a little annoyed, and a lot glad that I had somebody like Kiros in my life.
Easy enough, right?
"Kiros, I'm really sorry."
"You should be. I think you broke my damn arm."
"I didn't know you were there!"
Ward was watching us with laughter in his eyes, working quickly to pitch the tiny pup-tents while Kiros managed to remove the left sleeve of his uniform to inspect the damage I'd done when I'd been playing around with Ward's . . . spear. Anchor. Thing.
Really, they just shouldn't give people giant chunks of ships as weaponry, and then we wouldn't have this problem.
It didn't really help that it was rainy and miserable, and we were all soaked to the skin and about twenty miles away from the actual border between Galbadia and Dollet. Kiros kept shooting me annoyed little looks, as though it was somehow my fault that it was raining. I sighed, dug through my things, and handed him a HiPotion.
"Do those work for busted arms?" Ward asked mockingly. "We're set up."
"It's not /broken/," I whined, grabbing for Kiros' arm just to prove that: One, it wasn't broken; and Two, I wasn't anywhere near big and strong enough to swing the damn thing hard enough to break bones.
Kiros flinched away, walked haughtily over to his pup-tent, and disappeared. Ward looked around at the dismal weather, sighed, and offered to take first watch. I crawled into my own pup-tent-it was on a puddle/-and tried to ignore that fact that every single bone in my body wanted to jump up, drag Kiros out of his tent, and tell him he needed to stop being such a /prick about everything.
I think, maybe, that a bit of his hostility had to do with the thing he thought he'd seen with that pianist girl the night before ranking. I knew that a decent chunk of his hostility had to do with the fact that I'd made Corporal at ranking, and he'd made Private First Class. And maybe a small fraction of it had to do with stupid things: the weather, having a massively bruised shoulder, being stuck in pup-tents in the rain unable to avoid Ward . . .
Okay, okay. So the last one was something rubbing my nerves. So sue me. I was feeling a little homesick, and just wanted to spend some time, alone/, with Kiros. That last night had been nice. We hadn't /done anything, but it had been nice to just lie in bed together and not have to worry about officers and curfew and the fact that Men Do Not Cuddle.
Thinking of that, I wondered which of our fathers had imparted that lovely sentiment. Because it /sucked/.
The puddle was starting to make my sleeping pad all wet and cold. I shifted onto the dry spot, swore under my breath, and stared out into the rain stupidly. With all the rain, I'd never get to sleep. So I might as well /watch it/.
A few hours later, Ward came and got me, and I, grumbling, went out to watch the camp. "Just in case," officers were always telling us. Just in case /what/? Nobody on the continent was stupid enough to attack a bunch of fully armed Galbadian soldiers. Even the monsters were avoiding the rain as much as possible.
One of the pup-tents shifted, but I kept my eyes fixed on oiling my gun under the small tarp that served as our look out shelter. The wind was cold at my back, bringing icy rain water with me.
But it stopped, for just a moment, and then there was a warm body right against my back. I fixed together the machine gun and sarcastically asked, "Shouldn't you be healing your broken arm?"
"I'm sorry," he whispered. I shook my head.
"No you're not. You're angry. And I understand that. Now, if you don't mind, I have to make sure that the nothing that is going to happen is not going to happen. Or going to happen? Anyways." I thought about dissembling the machine gun and oiling it down again . That would be the third time.
He sat down in the mud at my hip, and stared out into the surrounding forest with me. After some amount of time that I was not ticking away in the back of my head-/I wasn't!/-his hand slid up from where it had been sitting on his leg, and found mine.
His hands were really warm. And I was really, really cold. So sue me. I can be Manly all I want and still hold my boyfriend-devotee-lover-/whatever/'s hand.
"I didn't break your arm." Really, I should learn how to keep my big mouth /shut/, I suppose.
"I know."
The rain kept falling. And I kept being a little homesick and a little annoyed, and a lot glad that I had somebody like Kiros in my life.
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