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white fae

FF VII post - AC Fanfic: Redeemer

Posted by moonofmorrigan on 2008.12.23 at 19:09
Tags: , , ,
Disclaimer: No ownership. No profit. No infringement. No money. No pasta. No jellybeans. No suing.

Author's Note: I had a hard time with this chapter, so I apologize if it's sucky and short. Plus, not to spoil things for people, this fanfic is going to span over several years time, and yes, the last chapter is in fact already finished.

Thanks to Becky, Nur and Yellowelectricseed (who by the way, I love your fic Decadence and Debauchery as well) for your reviews/comments/encouragement. As always more are welcomed by all so I know if it still stands of interest to even one person. The chapter titles are lyrics to the song "Propehtian" by Eternal Tears of Sorrow, which I sadly have no affiliation with either.

Final Fantasy VII: Redeemer
Chapter Two: On the layers of the outer heaven - Hidden omens are found

He spent months preparing. If he had been Kadaj, he would have been tracking and literally stalking big brother by now. But Yazoo, for the most part, considered big brother to be the last of his worries for the moment. For the moment. He saved up money, even at times going without meals for the sake of meeting his ends. What his intentions were going to be, he knew would take years, and would not be totally completed even his lifetime. It would make no sense, he was very well aware, to anyone who did not have to live with in his mind. Yet, in his lifetime he would achieve that which was the most important. But first things first, he needed weapons once more. He knew, he counted on it that big brother would find out, and with it, he would come after him. When he did, he was going to be ready. Then when big brothers body was lying broken and bleeding before him would he know any satisfaction.

Therefore, for this reason he took several months gathering together enough gil that he could buy a new gun, a sword, a knife and bullets. He had browsed the shops, and finally, he seen one with the perfect gun for him. The perfect knife - all that was left was the sword. Kadaj deserved his enemy's blood to be spilled upon a sword. He was fully capable of using a sword. He just disliked them. With a gun you took a shot, and if it hit the target with the accuracy he had drilled in him since he was 3 years old, death was practically instantaneous. Unlike Kadaj who enjoyed watching suffering, in addition to inflicting it, all it ever did to him was remind him of some experiment or another. The memories therefore brought forth uncontrolled emotion, and emotion clouded judgment. Hate was the only sure emotion. Was the only thing that got results.

The day he chose to finally go out and get his weapons was punctuated with everyday, but pivotal things which he would recall in later years. As he walked to the weapons shop, his white coat fluttering behind him in the breeze, dusting his dyed black hair about his shoulders, he had seen Turks in the alleys. Not an unusual sighting, except it was the red-headed jackass he had fought 5 years ago on the day Kadaj died. Followed behind was the burly man in sunglasses, and then the two Kadaj took so much sadistic pleasure in torturing for information, beginning it all. Yazoo couldn't help stopping and glaring at them from across the street, then pulling his collar higher about him, huffed and pressed on.

As he entered the shop a bell clang overhead to alert the owner of his presence. Not that it seemed to have any effect. Yazoo walked around browsing. Detailing and being sure his initial desire was perfect for this one time purchase. Any other time, he wouldn't think anything of it, but Shin-ra was back, and cracking down upon "civilians" owning weapons. Having satisfied himself that the gun behind the counter, a silver gun much like he had before with a retractable blade at the top of it for close contact fighting, was what he wanted he eyed the display case for the suitable knife. It was then that a sword off to the corner caught his eye that was in the display case. Walking over to it, he stared in disbelief at it. It was the Fang Tooth Kadaj had used. There was only one like it in the world. Just one... Kadaj had made it himself when they had run. When Kadaj had formulated his plan. Perhaps this was his way of telling him he did approve of his own plan.

He heard footsteps coming his way and the shopkeepers all too eager voice speak up in front of him, "Just came in this morning. Unique piece... and as you can see practically never used."

Yazoo chuckled at that leaving the owner to give raise an eyebrow. The man bent over, slid the case back and put out on the counter for him to look at. As Yazoo reached forward, he couldn't help dwelling on the very sense of awe and amusement he had at this coincidence.

"Careful, that blade is rather sharp. Cut myself 3 times already just putting it in the case."

"I can imagine..." Yazoo replied absently, swinging it in he air in a practice move. The sword was such that only one of the 3 brothers could handle it without getting cut. Thus was the spell interwoven into it's very metal.

"We have some other ones too as you may have..."

"How much?"

He looked at the bug eyed shopkeeper. "Excuse me?"

"How much do you want for this?"

"Well, it won't be cheap, which is why I think you may want to look..."

Yazoo gave him a pointed look, that he could tell sent a wave of panic through the mans veins judging by how white he suddenly got. "I want no other. Gil is not an issue. What do you want for it?" He asked again patiently, turning his attention back to the sword which he turned this way and that to see the silver metal glow in the light. When he made no sound, he looked back at him, to find him just staring at him with an odd expression. There was fear in his eyes, and anger.

"I'll get you a box for it then."

Yazoo's eyes slitted as he watched the man walk over to a corner, pulling out a white box with shaking hands. Before he could walk back Yazoo called over, "Oy, and boxes for those too." he pointed at the gun and the knife with a blue handle behind the counter. The man merely nodded his head watching him out of the corner of his eye. When he came back he packaged them up.

"You still haven't told me how much..."

As the man slipped the last of the weapons in a larger bag for him to carry discreetly down the alleyways, he looked up at him and just shivved the bag at him. "Just take them! take them all!" then ran into the back room.

Yazoo cocked his head to the side listening. No sounds. Nothing. Just the man's breathing. As he opened the door clanging the bell again he heard a woman ask the man what was wrong, and him answering as he was shutting the door, "I swear, that funny customer in here just now... just like Sephiroth..."

The door closed out the rest of the conversation with an unattractive slam.

Sephiroth? Why did everything come back to Sephiroth? Yazoo started walking quickly. He felt angry. Anger and hate were the only safe things he allowed himself to feel anymore. He detested the feelings, yet on another level, he reveled in them. Sephiroth... No matter how much he understood him. No matter how much like him he knew he was - he absolutely hated the bastard.

Dusk was setting in. The cool of night would soon be here and the sting of the sun in his eyes would be gone. He had already stored his weapons back at his apartment, but he felt restless for some reason. So, he went for a walk along the shop ways and restaurants. Sephiroth still brooding in his mind. Was he the new Sephiroth? Would he be changed only to be slaughtered again before his plan was done? He couldn't imagine it, Sephiroth would be disgusted with this plan of his. So would Kadaj. No wonder she chose them. Destroy the world right? Why destroy it when you can conquer it? While this world swarmed with these humans, there was no way to get around them. No way to win against the Lifestream's protection of them, except, he knew by his way. His way the Lifestream had to accept what things would pass. It couldn't reject it's own children.

It was just then that he looked over and seen off to the corner of the sidewalk a girl with purple, nearly black hair dressed in a checkered waitress outfit with two bags in her hands, being slammed into - on purpose by two people who were passing her. They smacked into her shoulders so hard she lost her balance and fell to the ground right on her butt. The ground was wet, not a good day for that to happen in your work clothes, he mused. Things had spilled out of one of the bags and the girl had just finished gathering it all once more and putting it in the bag, when he came upon her. Her leg was bleeding. He looked over noting the slight metalic glint of something stuck in the pavement. He stopped and held out a hand when she stumbled trying to get up.

She looked up at him with violet eyes. Her face was sort of pretty in a non-stand-out kind of way. She seemed to be completely thrown off balance again by his gesture to her. Yet tentatively, as if thinking it was a joke, she reached out and let him pull her up.

"Thank you.." she softly muttered, bowing her head hiding her features from his view. He frowned, and couldn't help wondering, outside of embarrassment, what the hell her problem was. He bent down, picking up her bags and handed them to her. Again, she quietly, almost apologetically, thanked him. He gave her another look trying to figure out exactly why this girl, in such a free willed country for women acted like such a... tentative creature. She didn't trust him. He sensed that in the air, he also sensed fear. He rolled his eyes and looked at the bleeding cut on her leg.

"I would see a doctor about that leg if I were you."

She nodded, and practically whispered, "Yes, sir."

He waited for her to do something. Continue walking, just merely look up, but she stood still as a statue. Subconsciously he noted the unusual pendant on a chain about her neck. A moon that seemed to be made of a material that glowed in the light of the now starry and moonlit road. For a fleeting second he was tempted to ask her about it. But she was acting so... weird for lack of a better word. He shook his head, and turned to go on. When he was merely a few steps ahead he couldn't help looking back behind him to look at her. She was just... odd. More so, than he thought he was. He at least attempted to blend in. When he did he found her staring straight back at him. He raised an eyebrow and seen her shoulders tense up and her nod at him. Then she put a hand to her heart and looked up. The motion was so sudden, he followed her gaze. He saw an unusual sight for this city. Several stars shooting across the sky. He looked back to where she had been, but she was gone.

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