i’ve disappointed my entire family but at least i didn’t drop the first iphone 6
They’re abominations, they’re alien, they’re beyond us. They’re creatures that biology as we know it does not apply to. Often they do not love mankind. (x)
She whispered something against his neck, unable to make herself heard over the r o a r.
Instead of panic, she felt peace. She was Ariadne, and he was no Theseus to abandon her to the labyrinth or shore. Seifer had come for her.
It was time to go home.
Her arms wrapped around his shoulders weakly, holding on as best she could when a red light, faint but there all the same, surrounded them. Enveloped them, warmed them.
It wasn’t her. But it was there because of her, just as the house itself was her fault. Of course, her fevered brain was making it all up. Maybe there was no maze, no light, no minotaur.
Or maybe she was the red string all along.
Just r u n.”
His vision tinged blood, and he ran, ran like hell, ran as if there weren’t a week of sleeplessness and loss and grief and sheer determination to find her
dead or alive, find her, find her, hanging heavy from his shoulders like a shroud.
He ran, because the growling was at his heels, and then, abruptly, a scream of static, a shift— the walls moving, collapsing, tunnels forming and dying and universes exploding, his map of tape and spray-paint gone, gone gone gone, I’m sorry, babe, I’m so sorry, I tried, I tried—
And the minotaur stepped out of the inky blackness in front of them.
A woman, clad in scarlet and horns atop her head, a beast with gunsmoke wings.
She lifted one clawed hand, beckoned— give her to me.
Not a chance in hell.
The dip had been a rather showy touch and she groaned as he brought her back upright. The audience seemed to be interested in their performance and Lisa’s face nearly glowed a deep crimson as the applause sounded. Hopefully, someone’s vacation memories had been enhanced by Seifer’s fancy footwork.
Returning to the table herself , she fussed with her hair, smoothing it down in the hope that it had mostly stayed in place. Leaning forward, she propped her chin atop her hands, eyeing her dance partner.
"It’s an escape for them. People who might be the usual whipping boy come here and are able to be treated like a star.That changes people sometimes. I’m willing to use all of my patience to make sure that if only for a few days, things go well for the people in my hotel. The guests matter to me."
Seifer studied her while she spoke, noting the serious tone, the glint in her eyes. She actually cared about this place, these people. It wasn’t just what was undoubtedly a good paycheck.
He could respect that, even if he wanted to punch the next idiot he saw whining about how there weren’t exactly enough ice cubes in their overpriced drink.
"They oughta classify you as a saint of some sort, being willing to do that," he decided.
"And how, may I ask, did you end up in that situation?" She filled the papers, keeping her comments to herself. Behind her serious face, there was a mix of a laugh and exasperation. Seifer always ended up in the strangest of adventures when she was not around and there were times she wondered if she was too boring for him to do all those exciting things like the bungee jump he did with Mindy or too motherly.
Like, right now, she felt more like a mother than a girlfriend. And she hated that feeling.
"I am simply curious as it is not the kind of incident we hear every day," she added, hiding her insecurities behind her unreadable expression.
"Let’s just say that I hate my job— which is a charitable way of putting things," Seifer countered. "She was drunk as hell, I cut her off, she smashed her glass on the counter and tried to shank me."
He thought he’d gotten off clean, some attention from the first aid kit and the woman unceremoniously thrown out on her drunk, sweatpants-clad ass. Tifa’d sent him home early, but he’d gotten halfway there before the bleeding hadn’t showed any signs of stopping.
Seifer leaned, and kissed his girlfriend’s neck. “Be glad. There are some fucking crazy people in this city.”
The woman turned beast has all attention focused on the monster who dares threaten her child. Edea allows Seifer one loud and harsh “Run!" from over her shoulder, before she whips back to the abomination before her.
Run! her father had told her in a urgent whisper, before the witch had killed him, before she found the girl, before the man had somehow gotten back up, blew her head off with his rifle, and watched in horror with his last breath as his little girl—-no older than her little boy now—-became a successor. Her path in life to be molded by that fateful day.
And oh how it would affect everyone dear to her.
He scrambles backwards at her tone, little feet digging into the sand, and he runs like hell, screaming for his father, Daddy, daddy, daddy, help, there’s a monster, help, help—
And even Chicken has the sense to keep his smart mouth shut when Seifer hurls himself into the orphanage, screaming at the top of his lungs.
But Cid isn’t there.
He’s gone, gone for a business trip.
Seifer turns sharply on his heel and runs back the way he came, lungs burning and heart pounding in a way he has never felt before— he’s left his mom alone with that thing.
Cid feels small, low, embarrassed—-it’s nothing new, and he’s looking for any excuse to get out of there. And while they haven’t been remotely close since Seifer was a child, and that they don’t regularly go out of their way to spend “quality time” with one another, Cid has an inkling that his son has been trying to avoid him as much as he has himself.
The setting is claustrophobic, and if they have to talk, he’d rather do it anywhere else.
"Mind if we step outside?" And he’s already on his way to the door before an answer is given.
Outside beat the shit out of inside, and he follows without complaint— probably the first time in his life he’s ever just obeyed an instruction set forth by his father.
It’s cool, fall creeping into Balamb in the way of all beach towns across the globe— slowly, and then all at once they wake up in the middle of winter. It’s still warm enough for a t-shirt, but the heat of the coffee helps.
"I’m sorry," he says curtly. "About kicking you out the other night. I just— don’t really like to talk about that shit. But…" And he tries to figure out a way to put this as delicately as possible, but that has never been Seifer’s strong suit. "I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to Quistis."
She doesn’t know. He’s not going to tell her— and if she’s figured it out, she hasn’t said anything. For that, he is grateful.
" all the galaxies
held in her tender frame
and they shiver “ ( x )
[photos can be found here.]
”And you’re going to go to hell, because of the life you took. You’re fucked.”
…is this how you summon a Winchester?
- seifer almasy from final fantasy viii.
- indie. multiverse/multiship. mainverse 3-4 years post-game.
- gif/icon/para adaptable.
- semi-selective; no kingdom hearts variant.
- bonus lady seifer: damechevalier
The worldgate, and an airship later, dumps him out in a city, sprawling, bustling, chaos in every inch of its winding streets, and Seifer stands there for a moment, absorbing it all.
Rabanastre, the name strange and alien on his tongue.
He joins the bustle, sliding into the crowds like he belongs there, and starts walking, following the sketched out map that Fran had sent him, getting turned around only twice and pointed in the right direction both times, until he finally, finally finds the inn.
"Y’know, you could’ve picked an easier place to find,” he grumbles, sliding into the chair across from her. She is distinct, even in a city where she is not the only Viera, and she hadn’t even had to do anything more than tilt her head for him to pick her out of the crowd. “I’m pretty sure I passed by like seven other inns on my way here.”