[fic] Carbon Made - Chapter 4
Feb. 29th, 2008 01:46 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
crankyoldmanFandom: FF8
Characters/Pairings: Rinoa, Laguna, Kiros, Ward implied Squall/Rinoa
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The reorganization of someone's mind took time, not unlike discarded books.
Notes: Ha, I am almost to the climax. REALLY. I also know this will probably end ambiguously and make Sev throw things. Tee hee.
She'd seen messes like this a lot in the past couple of years. The purging, the organizing, the discovery. Rinoa remembered going along with Quistis when they were reorganizing Galbadia, who despite having their own identity was suffering from the loss of any authority structure--apparently they'd suffered more losses than Balamb. She remembered the days that were sure to lead up to a real war, because as she'd learned from whispers and the like, the Sorceress War was at most lukewarm. Many of the battles had been stricken from the papers, left only to rumor and tabloid, right up there with Adel sightings.
The citizens of countries, of towns, they didn't know. And Rinoa couldn't help but hear all about it.
"Oh hello! Sorry for the mess, we just got some thing delivered..."
"From where?" she asked, trying to look as innocent as possible. That tended to help things, she'd learned.
Laguna looked over at Kiros for a moment, and figured they were having some sort of conversation that she wasn't supposed to be able to pick up on. The SeeDs did that; she always noticed.
"Oh, just some musty old books and files from places we don't have anymore. Nothing to worry about. Unless you trip on something," he replied, hand on the back of his neck in a completely harmless gesture.
Very diplomatic. Squall was silly, Laguna was a fantastic leader. He knew his limitations, kept people he trusted near him, and he could make just about anyone like him. Then again, maybe that was the problem. She suspected Squall was loosening up about him. It would be interesting if they ever teamed up. Well, she hoped when.
"I can help, if you want. I'm sure you don't like being cooped up here with all these papers."
Laguna relaxed, as if he had been trying to figure out a way to ask her to do just that. Or to let her know there wouldn't be much exploring that day. Or they were out of cereal. She supposed it was Ward's job to make sure he didn't feel too bad about letdowns, using those enormous hands of his to pat him on the back.
Rinoa knew what he meant by musty when she made the mistake of actually opening a binder.
She coughed. "Oh gross."
"Right, forgot to warn you, these... well, they've been sitting for a while."
And here she was going to say something nice about a President that took time to do the work that a lackey typically would. It wasn't kindness and generosity--no one in their right mind would want to catalog books and binders that smelled like a combination of old hot dogs, Angelo being bad, and something that she was sure was living once and was very very ugly.
"Maybe they died."
"Probably."
"Maybe we should just bury them. I'm sure you could grow flowers."
He laughed. She liked his laugh. Strangely enough Irvine laughed just like that. Maybe they went to the same school of Long Haired and Charming.
"Right here in the office!"
Kiros had snuck out, she'd noticed, nearly as it happened. Ward had taken off before that. Well, she supposed they were always busy, making sure things ran smoothly. That or they were smart enough to run off before they too got roped into this chore. Definitely more likely.
Laguna tossed her a pair of gloves. At least they were somewhat prepared.
"So exactly how are we sorting things out?" she asked, letting the glove snap against her wrist. Sometimes Rinoa found herself doing things like that, as if to remind her that it was real.
"Well, on all the inside covers there are dates. So by those."
Someone had been a little meticulous, even if they had bad handwriting. Only people that wanted to be remembered put dates on everything, she'd heard once from her father. It was funny how as much as she wanted to put him out of her mind, he'd crop up. Something that Squall would say, something that smelled a certain way... Rinoa was clutching her rings again.
It was going to be a lazy day.
---
Laguna couldn't stay quiet when working. He told her stories she knew she'd heard before, actually, she'd been there. Rinoa didn't have the heart to tell him to stop as he went over the exploits yet again. If she wanted to, she could be listening to several people at once, and understand them all. It was the little things that disturbed her the most, the things that she supposed she should have taken advantage of.
The light brush of a hand with well manicured nails on her cheek.
She looked over her shoulder, and nothing was there. Rinoa hoped Laguna didn't notice, but in the corner of her eye he was making hand puppet motions as he explained Caraway--she called him Daddy until she decided she was too wild for sitting in the drawing room--in this part of the story, because he was caught up in it.
Under her right gloved hand, something felt warm. She looked down. Take it.
It felt like that one time, when her unruly friends had goaded her into taking a handful of candy without paying for it, even though she had the money, she always had the money. Rinoa had split it with them, so she wouldn't feel bad, and to some extent she felt good about it. Things like that had never been about taking, though, they had been about getting away with it.
"So that's how I learned how to peel potatoes really well..."
---
It would take her a couple days to come up with the right words, so Rinoa had decided to start on her letter to Squall. Even if it was getting sent over the invisible wires that all data was turning into. Laguna had explained to her that was the point of sorting out all those smelly books...
...well, they weren't all smelly. But she didn't want to think about the one she'd slipped under her skirt on way out of his office.
Hi Squall. How's the weather?
She hit the backspace key hard a few times. This was her seventh attempt at a sentence after saying 'hi' and they all sounded dumb. Rinoa knew that people found her clingy, but what they didn't understand was that was how she'd always communicated, because of her mother. When her father stopped gently putting his hand on her shoulder when she looked scared, that was when she knew something was wrong.
Rinoa bit her lip.
"I don't even know what I'm looking for!"
Not that she expected anyone to answer. But part of her hoped someone did, as much as she feared it. So much fear... after all, she'd pulled them back. Hand to her heart, something in her throat, she'd pulled them back because... because things like that mattered.
She sighed. "If nothing exists, nothing has to matter anymore. Is that what it was?"
Alright, at this rate she really was going to the loony bin.
When she was a kid and felt like this, she would sit in Daddy's study and read through his heaviest books. Maybe if Rinoa had kept that up she wouldn't have had such sloppy plans, but she remembered enough from them. General Caraway, obsessed with tactics had given that legacy to his daughter. Oh how she'd fought that, going through tutors faster than clothes, telling him that he probably wasn't even her real dad.
Hi Squall. I know that you want certain things, but I really hope that you don't end up like my father.
But it was still there. Knowing that people could be manipulated, sometimes going with that instinct. Sometimes wanting to laugh at how easy it was, because she'd always been able to read them. There had always been something in the back of her mind that wanted to laugh and now she could almost hear it...
She held the backspace key this time.
Characters/Pairings: Rinoa, Laguna, Kiros, Ward implied Squall/Rinoa
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The reorganization of someone's mind took time, not unlike discarded books.
Notes: Ha, I am almost to the climax. REALLY. I also know this will probably end ambiguously and make Sev throw things. Tee hee.
She'd seen messes like this a lot in the past couple of years. The purging, the organizing, the discovery. Rinoa remembered going along with Quistis when they were reorganizing Galbadia, who despite having their own identity was suffering from the loss of any authority structure--apparently they'd suffered more losses than Balamb. She remembered the days that were sure to lead up to a real war, because as she'd learned from whispers and the like, the Sorceress War was at most lukewarm. Many of the battles had been stricken from the papers, left only to rumor and tabloid, right up there with Adel sightings.
The citizens of countries, of towns, they didn't know. And Rinoa couldn't help but hear all about it.
"Oh hello! Sorry for the mess, we just got some thing delivered..."
"From where?" she asked, trying to look as innocent as possible. That tended to help things, she'd learned.
Laguna looked over at Kiros for a moment, and figured they were having some sort of conversation that she wasn't supposed to be able to pick up on. The SeeDs did that; she always noticed.
"Oh, just some musty old books and files from places we don't have anymore. Nothing to worry about. Unless you trip on something," he replied, hand on the back of his neck in a completely harmless gesture.
Very diplomatic. Squall was silly, Laguna was a fantastic leader. He knew his limitations, kept people he trusted near him, and he could make just about anyone like him. Then again, maybe that was the problem. She suspected Squall was loosening up about him. It would be interesting if they ever teamed up. Well, she hoped when.
"I can help, if you want. I'm sure you don't like being cooped up here with all these papers."
Laguna relaxed, as if he had been trying to figure out a way to ask her to do just that. Or to let her know there wouldn't be much exploring that day. Or they were out of cereal. She supposed it was Ward's job to make sure he didn't feel too bad about letdowns, using those enormous hands of his to pat him on the back.
Rinoa knew what he meant by musty when she made the mistake of actually opening a binder.
She coughed. "Oh gross."
"Right, forgot to warn you, these... well, they've been sitting for a while."
And here she was going to say something nice about a President that took time to do the work that a lackey typically would. It wasn't kindness and generosity--no one in their right mind would want to catalog books and binders that smelled like a combination of old hot dogs, Angelo being bad, and something that she was sure was living once and was very very ugly.
"Maybe they died."
"Probably."
"Maybe we should just bury them. I'm sure you could grow flowers."
He laughed. She liked his laugh. Strangely enough Irvine laughed just like that. Maybe they went to the same school of Long Haired and Charming.
"Right here in the office!"
Kiros had snuck out, she'd noticed, nearly as it happened. Ward had taken off before that. Well, she supposed they were always busy, making sure things ran smoothly. That or they were smart enough to run off before they too got roped into this chore. Definitely more likely.
Laguna tossed her a pair of gloves. At least they were somewhat prepared.
"So exactly how are we sorting things out?" she asked, letting the glove snap against her wrist. Sometimes Rinoa found herself doing things like that, as if to remind her that it was real.
"Well, on all the inside covers there are dates. So by those."
Someone had been a little meticulous, even if they had bad handwriting. Only people that wanted to be remembered put dates on everything, she'd heard once from her father. It was funny how as much as she wanted to put him out of her mind, he'd crop up. Something that Squall would say, something that smelled a certain way... Rinoa was clutching her rings again.
It was going to be a lazy day.
---
Laguna couldn't stay quiet when working. He told her stories she knew she'd heard before, actually, she'd been there. Rinoa didn't have the heart to tell him to stop as he went over the exploits yet again. If she wanted to, she could be listening to several people at once, and understand them all. It was the little things that disturbed her the most, the things that she supposed she should have taken advantage of.
The light brush of a hand with well manicured nails on her cheek.
She looked over her shoulder, and nothing was there. Rinoa hoped Laguna didn't notice, but in the corner of her eye he was making hand puppet motions as he explained Caraway--she called him Daddy until she decided she was too wild for sitting in the drawing room--in this part of the story, because he was caught up in it.
Under her right gloved hand, something felt warm. She looked down. Take it.
It felt like that one time, when her unruly friends had goaded her into taking a handful of candy without paying for it, even though she had the money, she always had the money. Rinoa had split it with them, so she wouldn't feel bad, and to some extent she felt good about it. Things like that had never been about taking, though, they had been about getting away with it.
"So that's how I learned how to peel potatoes really well..."
---
It would take her a couple days to come up with the right words, so Rinoa had decided to start on her letter to Squall. Even if it was getting sent over the invisible wires that all data was turning into. Laguna had explained to her that was the point of sorting out all those smelly books...
...well, they weren't all smelly. But she didn't want to think about the one she'd slipped under her skirt on way out of his office.
Hi Squall. How's the weather?
She hit the backspace key hard a few times. This was her seventh attempt at a sentence after saying 'hi' and they all sounded dumb. Rinoa knew that people found her clingy, but what they didn't understand was that was how she'd always communicated, because of her mother. When her father stopped gently putting his hand on her shoulder when she looked scared, that was when she knew something was wrong.
Rinoa bit her lip.
"I don't even know what I'm looking for!"
Not that she expected anyone to answer. But part of her hoped someone did, as much as she feared it. So much fear... after all, she'd pulled them back. Hand to her heart, something in her throat, she'd pulled them back because... because things like that mattered.
She sighed. "If nothing exists, nothing has to matter anymore. Is that what it was?"
Alright, at this rate she really was going to the loony bin.
When she was a kid and felt like this, she would sit in Daddy's study and read through his heaviest books. Maybe if Rinoa had kept that up she wouldn't have had such sloppy plans, but she remembered enough from them. General Caraway, obsessed with tactics had given that legacy to his daughter. Oh how she'd fought that, going through tutors faster than clothes, telling him that he probably wasn't even her real dad.
Hi Squall. I know that you want certain things, but I really hope that you don't end up like my father.
But it was still there. Knowing that people could be manipulated, sometimes going with that instinct. Sometimes wanting to laugh at how easy it was, because she'd always been able to read them. There had always been something in the back of her mind that wanted to laugh and now she could almost hear it...
She held the backspace key this time.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2008-02-29 08:19 pm (UTC)Hi Squall. I know that you want certain things, but I really hope that you don't end up like my father.
I’m not sure if it was your intent or not but this line makes me think Rin may be a little afraid of Squall betraying her like her father did to her predecessor.
Luguna was wonderfully awesome and the supernatural mystery elements are intriguing.