Alright, fanfic time. Prompt me!

[NiNeLiVeS]

Alright, here's the drabble store. Give me a prompt and I'll write a hundred or so words with a KH-slant to it.

Starting with:

Shin-Ra Electric Co.: ANSEM. BEING ALL.... ANSEM-Y.

i. Ansem the Wise

It isn't quite fair, he knows. No father should have favorites. No teacher either.

But Xehanort is beyond mere brilliance and Ansem discovers that he cannot help himself. Xehanort is simply better than his peers.

Oh, not always, of course. There are moments when Ansem despairs that the young man will ever break even on the most basic of social mores. Gaffe after gaffe filters to him from the ears of cooks that he still visits for the occasional midnight snack; from the lips of maids that dust his chamber and remind him not to stir his tea with the same knife that has buttered his toast; from his other disciples who are fed up with baby-sitting the strange amnesiac.

But then, as always, Xehanort will say something, suggest a notion and Ansem is awed at the breathtaking leaps of intuition and logic.

He is the one. The one with Ansem has been waiting for. A heir for his crown, the one that can lead them when he has gone into his retirement, tinkering with forces while the day-to-day can be left to the care of others. He is as certain of it as anything in his life.

And because he is so certain, because he feels that this is right he is afraid.

It is not a rational fear. Nor a reasonable one. But sometimes... sometimes... in the thrust of Dilan's spear, in the ringing shot of Braig's guns, in the swing of Aeleus's hammer and even the tightly wound research notes of his burgeoning scientists he is reminded that nothing worth having comes easily.

And Xehanort's appearance and genius can only be described as easy.

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Draconas: COMBINE BOTH; A MEMORY OF DARKNESS.

ii. Memory of Darkness

Sora ponders.

There is a scar somewhere. Not - not a physical one. He's tried to explain it but it's something that takes more than words to bridge. It is like trying to explain what the color blue is to someone who has never seen; or what heat is to someone who cannot feel the summer sun or the warm sandy beaches that soak it in.

What was it like, to be a Heartless? Riku wanted to know. Guilt-ridden, chagrined the young man asked. What was it like... to have your Heart ripped out?

And Sora could only shrug. It was... it was like being full while being empty. Always needing more but always being enough. It was a series of contradictions without ever having a riddle.

But it was also, strangely, peaceful.

Sora ponders and then laughs. He's not one for thinking. Crouching low he crawls forward to tackle his friends into the waves.
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Draconas: SOMETHING ABOUT SOMEONE WHO IS SLOWLY LOSING THEIR MEMORIES TO THE DARKNESS AS A HEARTLESS.

iii. The Broken Pieces

You don't become a Heartless all at once, Vincent realizes as the swarm consumes him, mind and body.

It seems sudden, but that's only because the Heartless are... surface manifestations of a much graver ill. Their world is dying.

And now, so is he.

Chaos is the first to leave. Vincent, in all honesty, is not sorry to see him go. He fancied himself the Lord of Madness and the Ender of all things and now it is He who is at an end.

Hell Masker goes next, red hot anger blazing trails as he cuts through the encroaching darkness. Hell Masker was always the most dangerous - to his friends, to his foes and most of all to Vincent himself who mirrors that hate so well. When he falls Vincent is left feeling cold and hollow.

Death Gigas goes with a confused, dull surprise. He is Vincent's thwarted patience and broken dreams and the culmination of unshed tears but Vincent knows he has lost something all the same and cries out like a lost child, for those things to come back.

Who is he?

A beast growls in the Darkness. Gaelian Beast... some part of him remember distantly.

Who is that? He feels like he should remember but...

Hey! Vinnie! You big meanie! You totally owe me for that materia!

Who is that?

Oi, freak. I got point. So stick behind and take care of my little girl.

Who is that?

Vincent... I'm glad you're here with us.

Who... who is that?

Vincent... you have to leave. Hojo will-

Who... who is Vincent?

Who is Vi

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Prythian: Rewrite a fairy tale to be about KH
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iv. Little Red Riding Hood

"Once upon a time there lived a little girl-"

"Moooom. Is this another fairy tail where the girl gets saved by some bogus hero?"

"Well, fine then. How would you like the story to go?"

"Well..."

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One day, little White Riding Hood (not that she was wearing white, mind you, she was far more sensible than that and had a green turtleneck and comfortably short shorts) went out to hunt for gemstones.

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"Gemstones? But dear, you can't just find gemstones and what about grandma-"

"Mooom! This is *my* story!"

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Ahem. Anyway, little White Riding Hood went out to find gemstones so that she could raise money to cure her grandma's illness or whatever was afflicting the crazy old lady.

Ignoring the tree's outburst that grandma wasn't crazy (because she totally was, everyone knew that she'd gone batty like a million bajillion years ago) little White Riding Hood passed upon a sleeping prince!

Now this Prince was an angsty one, she could tell that at first glance for he wore far too many belts and it is a well-known idiom that a man with too many belts is a man with too many thoughts and a man with too many thoughts is just one step removed from cutting himself and lamenting over his dead girlfriend or pet goldfish or whatever.

So, seeking to relieve him of his terrible burden, she took some of his jewels. Not all of them, mind you, she left him his family nuts-

___________________

"-Yuffie!"

"Alright, alright, I'll keep it PG-13, geeez Mom. You don't see me complaining that you keep on doing the nasty with Dad-"

"-YUFFIE KISARAGI!"

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-right, where were we? Ah yes, she left him some money for the road as well as his weird gun that wanted to be a sword that wanted to be a gun because she was pretty sure that if she took it she might shoot herself by accident.

Unfortunately, magnanimity is bad karma and it just so happened that this prince was actually a lion in disguise!

And so once he realized that his jewels had been stolen he roared after her and little White Riding Hood, being little (but fortunately not wearing white) scurried up into the trees to escape his terrible wrath.

Fortunately, she met an ornery old vampire, living up in the treetops. He wore a bright red cape.

"Heya!" She greeted.

"..." the vampire ellipsed.

"Not very talkative, are you?" Little White Riding Hood noted.

"..." the vampire said eloquently. It was super eloquent! Super-duper eloquent! Eloquent enough that Little White Riding Hood realized that it was the vampire's goal in life to save a precious maiden like her so she picked the vampire up by his big red cape and threw him down to the lion.

After stealing his jewels, of course.

And everyone lived happily ever after! The End!

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"...young lady, you and I are going to have a talk."

"Awww, but Moooom-"

[Sir Percival]

Not so much difficult as something I'd like to see...

Could you write something of a man going insane? I'd like to see how you do with it.

[NiNeLiVeS]

v. Madness, Lurking

When did it start?

When had he become a different person?

When... when did... he start becoming him?
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It was so easy at the beginning.

Fight. Kill. Maim.

Find him. Kill him.

Then he saw Aerith.
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"You're dead," he tells her. "You're dead, I saw you die, you're dead, you're dead-"

"Shhhh, it's alright." Aerith tells him, cradling his head with her slim fingers. "It's alright, Cloud. It's alright."

She's wrong, he knows. She's wrong and he destroyed the world and it's all his fault and she's dead and-

"Shhhh, just relax."

He cries.
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He doesn't tell anyone else. It's his sin. His sin, Sephiroth's sin, their sin-

No, not their sin.

Sephiroth was the one who destroyed the world.

Just Sephiroth.

Always Sephiroth.
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"You don't have to fight," Aerith tells him earnestly. "We could use help here and you would be so much happier-"

He would be. Happy, that is.

For a moment, he dares himself to think about it. The image almost makes his eyes water.

The last time he dared to relax he doomed a Planet.

Cloud shakes his head stiffly and walks out the door. He will fight. Because when he fights he knows his Darkness is there, fighting with him.

And if his Darkness is fighting him then it can't fight anyone else.
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"You just don't get it," Sephiroth says shaking his head as Cloud falls to his shaky knees. "You will never defeat me."

"I will," Cloud snarls back defiantly. "One of these days, I don't know when, but you WILL fall."

Laughter and feathers answer him.
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First Sephiroth kills Barret.
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Then Tifa.
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Then Vincent.
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"You just don't get it," Sephiroth says shaking his head as Cloud falls to his shaky knees. "You will never defeat me."

It's a trite, tired game that the two of them play. Cloud doesn't even bother to say his part. He's not looking to defeat Sephiroth. He gave up on that long ago.

He just wants to stall.

"You will never be rid of me." Sephiroth repeats.

"Never."
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One day Cloud wakes up and his hair is silver and his wing is growing feathers.
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"Cloud!" Aerith yells. "Cloud, you have to stop this! You're hurting yourself."

Cloud laughs. "He's eating me," he tells her, gripping her forearm tighter than he would normally allow himself. "He's eating me and I can't stop him."

"Help me," he whispers.
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One day, Cloud wakes up and his hair is golden again and his wing is back to wholesome leather.

But when he moves to sigh in relief his mouth quirks upwards in a smile instead.

"Hello, Cloud," Sephiroth greets.

And Cloud can only scream wordlessly.
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00Penguin: I, THE GREAT BLAH BLAH, CHALLENGE YOU MAKE THE FINAL MEMORIES OF KEYBLADE MASTER IN THE FINAL KEYBLADE WAR

vi.
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Her name is Lightning.

Her name is Lightning and if there's anything she knows is that she's sick and tired of this bloody, stupid, pointless war.

"You went too far," she tells him, breathing heavily. Ice makes the air mist and her breath comes out in puffs. Around them are a graveyard of broken keyblades. "You went too far."

Snow looks at her and smiles weakly. "You... you can still do it." The traitor gasps. "Join..." he taps his Keyblade to her weakly, "...them... together."

He coughs out blood. "You... you can do it! You can bring her back!"

"Bring... Serah... back."

He falls to his knees and dies with a smile on his face.

Bastard.

Bastard.

"She didn't want it!" Lightning roars. "She didn't ask for it! She had a will! She... do you think she wanted to die? No one does! But she accepted it! Because she knows that her Heart will go back to the Kingdom and that you two will meet again."

"But you, you stubborn fool. Why did you try to open the Gates? Why-" She sobs brokenly as she falls, the last of her kind, the last of the Order that once numbered thousands. "She loved you, you fool."

"She loved you."
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"Sis, IthinkImighthavecancer and hey, I'm getting married!"

Lightning is the youngest Keyblade Master in the history of their Order and Keyblade Masters do not spit coffee onto their little sisters in shock.

Nonetheless, it's a close thing.

"WHAT?"
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"Oh no," Lightning says, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "You are not getting married to this buffoon. I refuse."

"But - but we're in love-"

"Sis-" Snow starts to say.

"I am not your sister," Lightning says hotly to the young giant. "And you had better start explaining this cancer thing to me. Here, I'll cast cura and-"

Sera moves back and shakes her head fiercely. "That'll just make it worse- here, I have a pamphlet somewhere."

Lightning has never heard of cancer before. It's not unusual. Cure and Cura spells revert damaged DNA back to their correct coding and it is a job taken care of before it even is a problem.

Usually.

When she finishes reading Lightning sits down heavily.

"Is this... is this..."

Sera nods.

It's not a joke.

Lightning doesn't hyperventilate. She doesn't cry.

But when she leaves the training ground that day it is blasted into nothing.
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The wedding is a simple, awful thing. There are too many people, too much alcohol and too much noise and too much laughter.

And Sera is a young girl in love and Lightning's heart constricts.

Not fair. This isn't fair. This isn't-

When she cries, people assume it's for entirely wrong reasons.
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"When I lost my wife I... I stopped functioning." Sazh confides to her, late one night, when they're both busy getting soused. The older Keyblade Master is one of the few Lightning trusts and it is a trust reciprocated. "Dajh was the one who pulled me out of that funk."

"But... but... what do I do? Why... how can she smile?" Lightning asks plaintively, bottle next to her lips. "It's so unfair-"

"Hey!" Sazh says. "Sera isn't gone yet, not by a long shot. And it isn't even a sure thing!" He shakes his head. "I didn't even have the chance to say good-bye and make things right. You, you have that chance."

"Don't squander it."
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So, just for half a year, Lightning puts down her Keyblade.

And becomes Claire Farron.
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When Sera dies, something in Lightning breaks beyond all repair. She doesn't notice - doesn't think to notice - what Snow is feeling.

But if she had... if she had noticed when he'd applied to become a Keyblade wielder... if she had noticed when he began to gather allies... if she had noticed when he'd begun singlemindedly pursuing a strange avenue of research...

But those are all maybes and what ifs that, in the end, are meaningless.

Everyone is gone now.

Everyone but her.

[Rocket!]

That.

With Lightning.

I am floored.

EDIT: PROMPT OH OKAY

When Xehanort started looking down on Eraqus.

[NiNeLiVeS]

Rocket: When Xehanort started looking down on Eraqus
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vii. Brotherhood
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"Xehanort, my old friend."

It was an unexpected meeting. The sort where you're off grocery shopping or buying that spare part you need to conquer the world or decide that you simply must try that new-fangled sea-salt ice cream you’ve been hearing so much about (to see if it can be infused with Darkness, of course) and you just happen to run into an old face.

Or it calls you from behind, as the case may be.

“Eraqus?” Xehanort asked, taking the frozen dessert out of his mouth as he slowly turned. Eraqus looked at the Popsicle in askance but with a snap of gloved fingers the thing burnt to ashes. Xehanort bowed and straightened, a ritual greeting before Keyblade Masters. “Why it’s been-” then the older man paused. “Wait, old?” He said, appalled. “I’m fifty years young you whipper-snapper.”

Eraqus – no doubt to the horror and confusion of his three young students had they been present – laughed. It was a rare, rich sound that made Xehanort miss his youth. Ah, the adventures they had had…

“And yet your hair is leaving you in droves.” Eraqus ventured to say, the near-joke falling awkwardly from the reserved man’s lips. It was almost a teasing tone.

So, age had mellowed him, had it?

Xehanort felt a slight hope…

“Bah, vanity,” Xehanort replied, making a trailing motion with his fingers. “I’ve never seen the use of it. Why, the number of times it’s exploded on me-”

“You still conduct your experiments, then?” Eraqus said, tone forbidding.

Energy crackled between the two. Xehanort reined in his temper. One mustn’t give in to the Darkness, only rule it.

“I still venture to search where you dare not,” Xehanort replied with the ease of someone who had long ago justified the risks and dangers of gambling with lives that weren’t his own for an unsteady, uncertain profit. “I still explore possibilities where you would seek to stifle them… Master Eraqus.”

Left unsaid between them was how was ‘Master’ Eraqus became a Master in the first place.

“My old friend…” Eraqus said again, before pausing. Visibly, the younger Master composed himself. Xehanort, despite himself, was impressed. Eraqus had always been always stuck to his principles and thus to his pride. To see him swallow it was no small things. “I did not mean to bring up our differences. We serve the same goal, if differently.” His face broke into a tired smile. “I am honestly glad to see you again.”

“And I you!” Xehanort returned with the easy, laughing grace of the victor. “Tell me of yourself! How have you been? What have you done? What of those students I hear so little about? I am an old man who hears naught but drafty winds and the occasional ice cream man-”

“I noticed,” Eraqus replied dryly.

“Ah, allow this old man some foibles,” Xehanort retorted. “It is not easy becoming old.”
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“You give the girl far too much of your attention,” Xehanort said as Eraqus joined him in the shadows of the giant tree that dominated the training grounds. So far his presence was like an extra, hidden test. So far, none had passed it. “The other two suffer because of it.”

“She is the best,” Eraqus defended.

“She is merely the brightest and purest,” Xehanort sneered. He made a motion towards Terra. “That one has unmatched potential while…” his hand paused at Ventus. “There is something… unusual about that one.”

“Darkness?”

“I… am not entirely sure,” Xehanort confessed. “It is like he is book that has been written over so many times that the ink needs to be white instead of black…” then he shook his head. “You must lose these prejudices, Eraqus. Because of you Terra will remain-”

“There is no bargaining with Darkness,” Eraqus said warningly. “It is consuming you. It will certainly consume him. He has not your strength nor your wisdom.”

“The Heart is a thing of balance, young man.” Xehanort said sternly.

“Even so.” Eraqus returned. “Even so.”
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“You fool.” Xehanort said tiredly as he slammed his keyblade into the dirt. “You young, impetuous fool.”

“It is you that are the fool,” Eraqus gasped out, hand clutched over the burning wound that Xehanort had inflicted upon him. “What is this lunacy, Master Xehanort? This is a sacred place. Do not defile it with your… your experiments!”

The word came out like a curse. Xehanort sighed again and offered a cura which Eraqus managed to rebuff.

“The Final Keyblade War was waged here, yes.” Xehanort finally said.

“And that war was cataclysmic!” Eraqus said, sounding as desperate and disheartened as the man ever did. “We are the only Keyblade Masters!”

“Little brother,” it was a slip of the tongue, an old habit when the two of them battled together, side-by-side. “Think. Why would they have gone to war? To what purpose? For mere destruction? I think not. I think that there was a threat, some inconceivable battle that they foresaw and that the power they sought will be necessary-”

“You cannot know that.”

“And until you are willing to acknowledge that there may be some other truth to the one you stubbornly cling to, neither can you.”

Eraqus stood. He took his hand from the wound. It was a grisly one, which made Xehanort feel a pang of regret.

“Master Xehanort… this is a road I cannot approve.”

“And I care not for you sensibilities.”

He should have killed Eraqus then and there. Really, he should.

But…

Well. The Heart is balance.

“Farewell little brother,” Xehanort said to the man’s retreating back. “Farewell.”
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Author's Notes: It doesn't quite answer the prompt but it's how it turned out. >_>

[NiNeLiVeS]

000Penguin: However it's something so evil, so foul, so... lustfully perverted that it can't be posted on this forum or on the internet for that matter.

THAT TOTALLY WAS A PROMPT.

OKAY THIS WAS TERRIBLE. I AM SO SORRY.
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viii. Internet Is For-
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When Even woke up, he was treated to the sight of four unconscious bodies lying in front of his door.

Scratching his head in bewilderment, the scientist toed his fellow students perplexedly before determining that yes, this was indeed Braig, Aeulus, Dilan and even little Ienzo. All in their undergarments. Calling up the Castle staff to get them sent to the infirmary was but a moment's work. There was an awkward moment when Braig woke up before the nurses arrived, clawing at his eyes and shrieking:

"Oh god, oh god, ohgodohgodohgod make it go away, MAKE IT GO AWAY." With monstrous strength he latched onto Even's arm. "Even, I'll do anything, just make it go away-"

Even made it go away by giving the sharpshooter good hard thwack on the head. He felt a little guilty but the man had asked.

He then went to offer his report to King Ansem.

"...and I found them passed out in front of my door!" He finished in exasperation. "Your Highness, I really do protest the liberties you have given them. They are clearly not responsible enough for the burden that their position entails!"

The old man's eyes were mischievous. "I am afraid this is a somewhat... complicated tale, Even. And yes, it was their fault-" the king held up a placating hand, "but they have been duly punished."

"Really," Even asked disbelievingly. He knew that his acerbic tongue and lack of patience made him the least favorite of the King's students, at least among the local populace.

"Oh, indeed. You see, they stumbled in on a certain Ms. Arlene as she was changing-"

Even was appalled. "Your Highness, that's a crime. To abuse the authority and trust placed in them to such an extent-!"

"I have determined it was an accidental thing. Here, you may take a look at the records if you are uncertain." The King gestured and a the MCP appeared in the room, a coruscating illusion made of light and some very minor magics. He was very orange.

"Administrator Ansem! User Even! Do you have any queries for me? It is my pleasure to serve."

"Please playback the audio recordings of-"

_____________


"-this is a terrible idea," Ienzo whined.

"A terribly delicious idea," Braig opined, as he dragged himself through the Castle's air ducts. "And goddamn if ogling our guests isn't a tradition."

"It is?" Ienzo asked, confused. He sighed when he realized that his lab coat's trailing sleeves had gotten caught on yet another sharp metallic corner and tugged it free.

"Uh. Probably not. But we can make it one!"

"Braig, I don't think this is a good-" Ienzo tried again.

"Kiddo, the problem with you is that you think too much." The sharpshooter said. "When I was your age-"

"When he was your age, he got all of us banned from the bathhouse for life," came the dry, muted voice of Dilan from directly below them. "Get out of there you two."

"Is the mountain of muscle there with you?" Braig asked,

"Yes," Aeulus replied stoically. "You tripped the alarm."

"What? Since when are there-"

"Ever since Space Paranoids came online," Dilan replied. "Now get out of there. You're lucky we were on duty."

"Arrrgh! You guys aren't men! Come on Ienzo, ignore these losers."

"B-but-"

"Ha! They're too big to fit anyway. Just continue-"

"We're going to come in after you," Dilan warned.

"Ha! I'd like to see you hopped up steroid freaks try!" Braig crowed. "Meanwhile me and the kid are gonna go check on the beautiful Ms. Arlene-"

Ienzo screamed when Braig simply opened up the bottom of the air duct with brute strength, nearly causing the junior scientist to tumble out.

"It's the fuzz! Run for it!" Braig yelled, cackling madly.

Dilan, assisted by his wind abilities, zipped up into the opening and chased after them, Aeulus following a minute later.

It was entirely by accident that the scuffling students managed to find a weak point just above Arlene's room and have their combined weight tumble through.

Ms. Arlene, on the other hand, took one look at the four of them, her relative state of undress and then - in a most unladylike manner - fried the four of them with a conjured Thundaga.

____________

When Braig woke up, he was in his undergarments, his hands bound behind his back. So were the other four. Dilan was still smoking, slightly. He never did respond to lightning magic well.

Ms. Arlene, blonde antenna bobbing, gave him a charming smile. "Oh good, I thought you'd be the first to wake."

He returned her smile with one of his own as he struggled for a moment with the rope around his wrists. "Bondage? Kinky."

"Naah, they're just restraints." Ms. Arlene told them. "Since you gentlemen, were so nice to - ahem - drop in, I thought we could share some reading time."

She took out a book. "I wrote this one myself, dedicated it to De Sade." She grinned impishly. "I hope you like it. All five of you are the main cast."

______________


As Even listened to the screams he shuddered a bit himself. That drivel was heinous.

"I... suppose..." he said after a moment, "that I can see their punishment as having been given. Still, Braig-"

"Has learned his lesson," Ansem replied cheerfully. "And if not, well, there is always the recording-"

Even shuddered again and left.

[The Squeak]

Hopefully I'm doing this right. I'm pretty much looking for great lulz now.

Sephiroth's grudge against Cloud, in a not-so-serious light.

[NiNeLiVeS]

✖ Squeaky ✖: Sephiroth's grudge against Cloud, in a not-so-serious light.

ix. Rivalry

Life for Sephiroth was simple before Cloud arrived.

Get up in the morning, do the necessities, listen to Hojo rant about conquering the world, nod his head perfunctorily, whine politely demand that he be allowed to trim his monstrosity of a hairstyle, get shot down (cut that hair and we'll be doomed! Doomed!) and ordered to conquer a few countries, remind Hojo that they had done that last year (or the year before last year, or the year before the year before last year and so on), give Step-Mother's glass tank a good polish, prepare breakfast and then eat, kill various people and then train for the rest of the day before going to bed.

All in all it hadn't been the most satisfying existence but it had been his.

But then Cloud had come in and had ruined everything.

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My ChiLD

"Yes Step-Mother?" Sephiroth had asked, soaking the rag he'd been using in the pail of warm, soapy water before giving the glass a good scrub.

No one had explained to Sephiroth why Step-Mother was blue and tentacly and stuck in a tank but she was very nice to him and loved him a lot so he hadn't seen fit to ask too many questions and had turned the various people who had made her unhappy rather unhappy themselves. He wasn't sure exactly what they'd done to make her unhappy since she was stuck in the basement most of the time and couldn't have possibly of met them but assumed that they had sneaked in, somehow. She wasn't Mother, but she was still family.

WhaT dO YOu thINk AbOUt gETTinG a nEw bRoTHer Or SISter? Step Mother had asked.

At the time, Sephiroth hadn't thought much of it and had indicated as much. Step-Mother made an exasperated sound, bubbles fleeing her mouth in a rather interesting way since as far as Sephiroth knew, Step Mother's tank wasn't oxygenated and she didn't seem to have any organs that would allow her to filter air from the mako chamber.

WouLD yoU LIKE a BrOTHER or sisTER?

"I don't know," Sephiroth had confessed. Then he had wondered, in the idle sort of way that he had always wondered what it would be like to have a challenge that didn't involve trying to condition his ridiculously time-consuming hair. "Would they be strong?"

Step-Mother paused for a few moments before answering:

YeS, they WOUld BE strONG if IT pleASED you, my SON, my SoN, my sON-

"You'll strain yourself, Step-Mother," Sephiroth chided. "You need to rest. Your vocalization sounds off today."

I WAS supPOseD TO be BUT a HeAD by NoW, Step-Mother grumped, like she always did.

"I'm not cutting off your head, Step-Mother," Sephiroth told her patiently. "Now take care. I have to go train."

YoUR hair. Is. VERY. niCE.

Sephiroth grit his teeth but then smiled pleasantly.

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For ten or so months, Sephiroth forgot the conversation completely. There had been an odd incident in Wutai involving dragons trying to stage a world revolution and then something about tonberries complaining about their working conditions (did they think hapless political prisoners grew on trees? It wasn't like Sephiroth could just magically make them appear) and so on. It wasn't precisely abnormal but it had still been hectic and he could be forgiven for having a few of the more confusing conversations with Step Mother slip his mind.

But then, one day, after exiting the showers he was presented with a young man named Cloud. His new 'baby' brother.

Sephiroth had protested that baby brothers - as far as he knew - were rather smaller. Like - say - about the size of his forearm. Maybe less. This one rose to about his shoulder.

Hojo had ranted about science (not unusual), unappeasable idiots (not unusual) and then about how difficult it was to vat grow children but if Sephiroth absolutely wanted his baby brother terminated, Hojo would be oblige-

And Sephiroth, for reasons probably involving insanity and curiosity mixed liberally together (not unlike energy drinks and alcohol) had said no, this particular baby brother would do.

______________


The first thing that Cloud had ever said was: "Look, I'm not your baby brother."

Ah, the poor thing. Clearly out its mind. Mako treatments did that sometimes, Sephiroth knew. Not to him, of course. Other people. He'd heard about it. At great length. Sometimes it occurred to him to wonder what other dinner conversations were like.

"Hojo said you were," Sephiroth pointed out as if that settled the argument.

"...can you think for yourself at all?" The baby brother had asked.

"Of course!" Sephiroth had bluffed and that had been that.

____________


After discovering that Cloud wasn't a bad fighter - merely a passable one - Sephiroth had reasoned that training the kid up would mean that when he grew up (although he did look quite grown up already) would mean that he would become a good one. Not an awesome one like himself, but nearly there.

After a year or so of training, Cloud began to be getting much better than good - almost excellent, really - and he began mentioning certain things. Like how unutterably inconvenient it'd be to fight with such long hair.

"I can't cut it."

"Why not?"

Sephiroth had asked himself the same question for nearly twenty years but wasn't about to admit -that-. "I just can't."

"You mean Hojo told you you couldn't."

"N-no!" For some reason Sephiroth stuttered. He must have been getting tired or something. "I chose to. I can cut it if I want to."

"Really." And in the awful way that all baby brothers knew how to make their older brothers do idiot things, he'd demanded: "Prove it."

_____________


And so Sephiroth, despite the manifold warnings from Hojo and the protests of his mother, did cut his hair.

______________


Now one has to understand something about politics before we go much further.

Civilization, as one scholar put it, passed between the points of Savagery, Barbarism and then onto Civilization.

Savagery was the state wherein all people did possess the same amount of power and exercised it cautiously lest they be beaten to death by a passing monkey.

Barbarism was the state where the strongest guy ruled for about ten or so months before old age, poison, arrows and so on killed him and replaced him with the next strongest guy.

Civilization was the state where the prettiest people were put in charge, regardless of their stated occupation.

And Sephiroth, sadly enough, was the face on the wall. Within a tenday there was rioting in the streets and within the month the Shinra monarchy collapsed altogether. Rufus tried to stem the tide but by then, the embittered, embattled people had had enough and were consumed by the rage in their hearts.

Literally, in a few cases.

Sometimes he liked to muse it had all been a coincidence. Someone else had seeded the Heartless there and it had just been coincidence that his haircut had occurred within the same timeframe.

Ridiculous, of course.

"This is your fault!" He'd told Cloud upon returning home to rescue Step-Mother (Hojo could burn in the pits of hell). "Yours! All of it!"

"What the hell are you talking about? Help me save them!"

And lo and behold, Cloud was saving people. Rather ineptly, but he was trying.

Sephiroth had sniffed. "It was you who opened the gates to this madness! I will haunt you, Cloud! I will be the darkness that shall remind you of your sins!"

At this point, Sephiroth could have really used some thunder and lightning. He made do with a thundaga.

"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?"

"This all happened because you asked me to cut my hair." Sephiroth had said. He'd tried to say it darkly but back then he hadn't had much practice. He was much better at it now, really.

"Your hair," Cloud had said disbelievingly, knocking down a passing Heartless. "....what?"

"This all happened because-"

"I heard you the first time and no, that's just stupid." Cloud had protested.

"...know that we will fight forever!" Sephiroth had proclaimed, ignoring Cloud. "Know that I will chase you forever and forever-!"

Anyway, life was simple before Cloud arrived.

[00Penguin]

Nine... I shall place upon you a prompt that I hope will bring happiness to us all... or at most just to me. I want to feel really giddy after reading it, Got It? Good... eh hm...


I want a prompt that puts three characters in a love triangle that was started on a single misunderstanding. EDIT: The characters have to be of an unusual pairing none of the known ones... yeah you know what I'm talking about.

I hope ya make it tasty... ;D

[NiNeLiVeS]

Hoho! Challenging indeed!

.

x. A Love Story (Part the First)

Okay.

Okay. You know how sometimes you hear about really, truly, awful, ridiculous first loves and are pretty sure that the speaker's a goddamn liar that cribbed the entire thing wholesale from some trashy romance novel?

(Tabloid Headline: White Rose of Wutai, secretly a trashy romance novelist.)

This isn't that story.

To start, it was my second love. My first was to that bozo Cloud and his pretty face and se- ahem, ultra-fine derriere. And before you actually get to know the boob he kinda comes off as mysterious and a girl thinks - hey! - that might be a pretty sweet deal.

That was before I knew him, of course. Turns out, that brooding mystery thing he likes? It's actually a code for Emo King. I mean geez, your best friend's best friend accidentally blows up one planet and then you're off moodily looming over people shorter than yourself, speaking in single syllables, pretending your ears blocked when a sweet gal like Tifa runs after you and telling everyone and their grandmother I don't deserve your love.

Cry me a river. Come on! Lighten up! That chocobo head of yours ain't foolin' anyone. You sir are not the looming type. Leave the looming the professionals. Like Vinnie. At least he can pull it off with style.

Bah.

Right. So, as I was saying, totally my second love. Also, not a trashy romance. Not at all. No siree. Yuffie Kisaragi is no tramp caught between two guys and trying to figure out which is the better kisser.

Really.

In some ways though, I guess my second love was kind of worse than Cloud, King Emo though he might be.

You see, Cloud never tried to kill me.

Riku?

That little bastard was a psychopath.

______________


So it goes kind of like this:

One day, little Yuffie is walking through Traverse Town, minding her own business, beating on the occasional no-good heartless when she espies-

(-espy. Isn't that an awesome word? I could say it all day. Espy, espy, espy, espy- kinda like ESP and SPY mixed together. Awesome.)

-when she espies a young woman who has fainted! Being the dashing, worldly person (who was totally not rifling through the little missy's pockets - not that she really would have stolen the weird, foreign currency) that she is, she rescues the mysterious damsel from the encroaching Heartless.

That of course, is when the man of the hour appears.

I, personally, thought he would have looked a lot more manly if he hadn't been harassed by plastic flamingos at the time, but that's just me.

(Don't ask me what the flamingos were doing there, to this day Alice is just... y'know. Odd)

So anyway, Riku goes, doing his best to impersonate an evil villain and failing hardcore. I blame his hair. You just can't get scared of a guy who's getting gray hair when he's like, all of thirteen. "Hand the girl over."

And I'm like: "Nuh-uh."

And he's like: "Little girl, you don't want-"

He totally was being boob (calling me a little girl! The White Rose of Wutai!) so I kicked him between the legs, got the little lady over my shoulder and made a run for it.

I should have stayed, really. Would have saved me an awful lot of trouble.

____________


"Aerith! I found a newcomer!"

Aerith is awesome. You have not met awesome until you have met Aerith. She is like a one-woman warrior therapist healer and is the only person I have seen wheedle Cloud into dress with nothing more than puppy eyes and one or two crocodile tears.

That? That right there that takes skill.

"Oh! Does she need help?"

Aerith doesn't offer to help me with carrying the little miss which is cool. Aerith knows I'm not a little kid and doesn't just say she knows which is what everyone else does.

"Yeah, I'm not too sure what they did to her. I'll put her in the guesty, okay?"

"I'll be right up!"

It's beyond me why Aerith decided to sell flowers. She is like the most gifted healer ever. She mumbles something about healing people's hearts but it's beyond little ol' me. Privately I think she's scared she's going to fail again, like she failed with-

Anyway. It's not nice bringing that up. It's okay to tease Cloud because he broods but Aerith is so cheerful sometimes that it hurts.

So anyway, I drag the blonde to the guest room, plunk her on the bed and Aerith does her magic thing.

And so blondie wakes up. First thing out of her mouth is as she spots Aerith (Aerith is taller than me which is not the only reason why she's more noticeable):

"Why! You're a Princess!"

Aerith is looking profoundly uncomfortable at that (which is kinda weird) so I take over and go: "Hiya! I'm Yuffie! You're in Traverse Town which probably means your world went the way of lima beans. What's your name? And who was the jerk?"

(I don't miss lima beans one bit. Good riddance)

"I'm -" and her face goes into a little frown of confusion which I've come to think of as her default expression, "why that is curious! I don't remember my own name. I think it began with A. Or maybe B. I know it's one of the first few."

Owch. Poor girl. I think that maybe the Heartless got to her pretty bad.

Then she points to me. "You're a Princess too. How queer. I was sure there were only supposed to be one or maybe two. And yet here we are, three of us!"

I dunno about you. But when she said that to me, my brain kinda went: What a nutter.

"You think I'm crazy, don't you." The girl went on. My eyes went wide and she goes, calm as you please, "that's alright. Miss Aerith here - oh how droll! I know your name and not my own. Have we met before? - Miss Aerith here knows I'm telling the truth."

And then Aerith nods and does a weird sort of half smile that comes out as a grimace and puts one finger on the girl's lips.

"I'm not a Princess," and it's just plain bizarre because it's Aerith and it almost comes out bitter, "not anymore."

"I was never a Princess!" I tell them both solemnly. I mean, who the heck hears about a Princess that lives off the streets and goes around pickpocketing people for a living before getting blown clear off her own world and into another one?

"Maybe you were, in a past life," the mystery girl suggests, but looking at Aerith. Then she sort of smooths her hair and lies down. "But I think that you're both in trouble. The young sir is looking for Princesses. He has an awful lot of darkness in his Heart, trying to save his own Princess. Maybe that's why he thinks it's okay to steal the other Princesses. It's not, but she's asleep and can't tell him that."

Then she yawns.

"I'm tired now. May I go to sleep?"

"Sure," Aerith chirps and then she kind of pulls me away and we clop off to the door. Soon as we're out Aerith shuts it and goes, before I can say anything: "I'm going to go fetch Leon. Wait here for a bit and don't go out."

_____________


Leon. Leon Leon Leon. Good ol' Leon. Fun as a barrel of monkeys.

No really, have you ever tried having fun with a barrel of monkeys? Yeah, didn't think so. It ain't. Let's leave it at that.

So with Aerith out looking for moody-broody number two (why on earth God gave the sexy genes to people who only want to use it to frown is beyond me) I kind of stood guard over our mysterious new addition.

That is to say, I went through her things.

She had cheese in her pockets. A pack of playing cards. Some odd looking dice.

"Don't throw the dice, please, they might summon something terrible."

When caught, the first thing to do is smile and try to play it cool.

"Hiya! I thought you were going to sleep." Carefully put the crazy girl's stuff back into her pockets. Just in case she's telling the truth.

"Mmmm. I thought so too. But I do feel much better now." She pauses and then stares at me. I fidget nervously because most people are rather more touchy about me taking examining their things. Y'know. In case they were broken or jostled or something. "I've never seen eyes like yours before. I think they are very nice."

"You want them?" I say, trying to laugh off the awkward turtle vibes that I really want to give off.

"No, although the sorrow-spiders might."

I don't laugh this off. Get back to me on what's impossible when you've seen Huey, Lewey and Duey.

"Sorrow-spiders?" I ask, despite myself. Insects are already ick.

"Oh yes. They steal your eyeballs to make nests. I'm told it's quite horrific. Not for the spiders, of course, but-"

I shudder. Even if she's stringing me along, it's kinda - yowch. That takes a warped imagination.

"Yeah, I don't want to know."

"Most people don't," she agrees. She looks into my eyes again. "How odd. I think I may be a lesbian. Do you think it's possible? A Princess is supposed to await her Prince."

Ooookay, yeah.

That's the second part of how this totally isn't like a trashy romance novel.

[Spring [Complex]]

Hmm do a DS based prompt involving Jack Sparrow, Jack Skellington, and Pete lol

[NiNeLiVeS]

But in DS they couldn't possibly meet up. D:

[Spring [Complex]]

That will be for your imagination to conjure =D! Go nuts ^0^!

[00Penguin]

This looks like a victory for DSA...

Score is 1-0 with DSA in the lead.

Ahem... I challenge you, Nine to do this prompt.

It is an all-boy high school romance plot... Fangirls scream for joy... here it comes...

You must do a scene where a student confess his love to his teacher, but the teather denys this confession of love but secreatly accepts it but doesn't want to cause trouble for both himself and his student... and it's with any character that is in Radiant garden...

Mmmmm.... yeah... you like it.

[NiNeLiVeS]

xi. The Pirate King
.
Jack stared at the giant... thing.

Then he looked at his bottle of rum. Then the thing. Then the rum.

Then the thing again.

It was tall. That was Jack’s first impression. His second impression was that it was very… well… and he used the word in the loosest possible meaning... piratey.

It had a peg leg. In fact, it had five peg legs, taped into the oddest conceivable locations. One of them looked like it might have once had arachnid ancestry somewhere down the line – the others looked wooden but he’d seen them twitch and bend at odd angles and was that an eye stuck in the bottom of one?

It also had a hat. A very nice hat. Jack would have almost been jealous if not for the fact that it appeared to have teeth digging into that skeletal brow. The coat was a nice piece of work but the parrot head that had been glued onto its shoulder and whose eyes followed his every motion was a bit… much. And that beard was not made of hair, Jack would have bet the Pearl (had he still had it) on that.

Also. It had eyepatches. Eyepatches stuck in every conceivable location. Except its eyes. Which were sockets more than eyes and-

Jack looked around suspiciously before taking another swig of rum. Either this was the best or the worst rum he had ever had in his life and he was determined to figure out which.

He closed his eyes and prayed for a blonde. Or a brunette. Or a red-head. Or, heck – she could be bald. He wasn’t picky.

He cracked open an eye.

“Arrrr.” The thing said, almost sounding jovial.

“Arrr,” Jack replied, raising his bottle of rum in a toast and then taking another swig. Ah well. Win some, lose some. His first mate had stolen a ship he’d sold his soul to get. He was marooned on an island. His hallucinations were pretending to be laughably bad bad, dead pirates.

There was a silence. It was broken by the sound of crashing waves and wind. Jack took another swig.

Finally, the thing spoke, sounding oddly contrite for an almost laughably bad nightmare. “I’m terribly sorry, very new at this and all. Are you – are you a pirate by any chance?”

A pirate? His hallucination was asking if he was a pirate?

“Of course,” he replied, miffed. “Have you never heard of the great…” He paused. Sighed. Took another swig. “…the great, Captain Jack Sparrow?”

The figure scrunched up his brow. It was quite a feat, what with having no brow to begin with. Not one with visible muscles, anyway.

“No, No I don’t think I have. Are you sure you’re a captain? I thought captains required more…” he gestured vaguely towards his various accoutrements. “Things.”

“What kind of a bleedin’ rot is that all about?” Jack said, appalled. “Bein’ a Captain’s about being free! Free ta choose! To get all the bleedin’ swag ya want and-”

“Really?” If Jack wasn’t so sure that skeletons didn’t have facial features to warp he would have sworn that the face in front of him smiled. “Tell me more.”

“Well…”

Two hours later they’ve commandeered a tugboat with a giant talking anthropomorphic cat.

No, he didn’t get it either. Apparently out there, somewhere, was a holiday called 'Talk Like a Pirate Day.' And this... this 'Jack Skellington' had just stolen it.

Well, that was something he could get behind, savvy.