Scandalous! Or, Seifer Almasy and the Angry Inch

Disclaimer: The boys don't belong to me. They belong to someone else. Poor me, poor them. Also, this chapter? May be a bit angsty, but I swear I’ll start to equalize the humor and the angst. Fun note, spell-check wants me to change “Hyne” to “Hymen.” Praise Hymen! (Edit: Thanks for pointing out the name mistakes. I knew I had something wrong, and I checked three times that I didn't have any continuity errors with the first chapter. See, it's always the most obvious things. Damn Square and their naming department)
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Scandalous! Or, Seifer Almasy and the Angry Inch

Chapter Two: The Origin of Love part One, or, the Pottery Chapter

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I wasn't the first time I've said the words fuck and Seifer in the same sentence. In fact, for the better part of my life, the word 'fuck' was usually preceded by the glorious truth, 'I want to' or with the word 'you' and a comma in the middle.

The picture was always my favorite. I was about six, Seifer was seven, and I don't know how old Sis..er...Ellone was. Sorry, the GFs can do that to you. Make you forget names, dates, people you care about. Luckily for me, Ellone kept a diary from when she came to the orphanage. She wanted to remember everything, so she could tell Laguna everything that happened.

Ellone let me borrow it, once. It was wonderful. I could feel the memories flooding back. It's such a bad thing to be mind raped by a parental figure. Recently I've been wondering if Cid wanted to make a mindless army of drones from us SEEDs. Why else would we need to lose our memories to gain power? If we only had memories of the Garden, Cid could manipulate us to be his sword and use us to take over the world!

Luckily for us, that's really not that likely. I hope.

According to the diary, Edea used to read us ancient Centran myths before bed. One that noticeably stood out, in both Ellone's words and the brief flashes of memory, was the story of how humans were first born.

Originally, the myths say, there were three races of humans, each really two people joined. But they weren't two people, they were one person. They came in all colors, gender combinations and sizes, and they were happy. They were so happy that even the GFs, who were at this time called gods, became jealous of the humans, for the gods had not other half, they were whole, and they were empty.

So, Gilgamesh and Odin hatched a plan. They would divide the humans into two beings, where there was once one. The sky darkened, and the swords of the gods slashed through the humans, diving what was once a cohesive whole into two incomplete beings. The gods laughed at our weakened, bleeding bodies, and the great Shiva took pity upon us and sealed up that whole. The humans desperately tried to reconnect, but they were torn apart by winds, fire and thunder. The human race was scattered, each half person trying to find their respective half, but due to Shiva's magic, even if they find their other half, they never will become one again. It’s horribly saddening.

But it’s just a myth. People are whole, right?

Such were the questions marching through my tiny little head when Edea put us to sleep. According to the diary, I would cry myself to sleep after hearing said myth. Seifer, who slept in the bed next to me, would calm me. Ellone never told me how, but apparently I would fall asleep immediately after he helped me. I wonder what he did.

Ellone’s diary ends with her being taken by the Esthar soldiers, as does my memory of the orphanage, except for a few seconds of me crying in the rain, calling out to her.

Sad stuff.

But that’s not the issue. How the fuck am I going to get Rinoa to take her shit from my room? It will be good to have some personal space again, and maybe actually get some without having to worry about the General’s daughter.

Dancing had left me tired and sweaty, and I’m fairly certain my make-up was running. I took off my clothes, throwing them in the bin. I folded the duster and put it in my drawer. I love that thing, even if I have nothing that goes with it.

I grabbed a towel, embroidered with the letters S.L. and a Griever on it and entered the bathroom. The lights were low, as we had a slider thing. I liked the low light. Grabbing a matchbook and throwing down my towel onto the sink, I lit some candles that Rinoa liked to have around. Hey, love the whole symbolic rebirth thing going on. I turned the water on. It was scalding. I glanced in the mirror and saw that I was a multicolored, glittery raccoon. So much for sex appeal.

The heat dissipated, leaving a warm stream of droplets. I stepped into the shower. I grabbed the bar of lavender scented soap that I bought two days ago. It seems like so long ago that I told Rinoa off, but it was like, seven hours ago. Still, if your boy buys lavender soap, you’d better just assume he’s an ass pirate.

I washed my chest, my stomach, my arms. I went a bit lower, feeling my limpness. Three orgasms, even with a woman, will do that to you. I scrubbed my back, moving lower my behind, teasing myself with a finger. I would have gone further, but I was too tired. Upon finishing soaping up my legs, I turned and let the water push the suds and bubbles into the drain. I fumbled with my hair for a minute, and turned my face to the head.

Fuck. I forgot to take off my make-up, and Rinoa’s cheap shit burns the eyes. I jump, almost tripping, out of my shower, and rub the residue away. In the mirror, my hair is drippy and my eyes are red. Such wonderful things we do to ourselves.

I dried myself off, pulling on a pair of loose pajama pants, and I pull my blankie up. Rolling to my side, I close my eyes, even if my hair is wet and that angers me. I’m too tired to worry about being uncomfortable. Whatever.

That night I dreamt that Irvine and I opened an office supply warehouse in Deling. Not much for symbolism, but I’m fairly certain I caught a glimpse or two of some pertinent storyline information, seeing Seifer in the rain. He was surrounded, and was shot. This made Dream Squall very sad, he screamed.

I woke up the way I always do. I open my eyes and realize I’m awake. I tumbled out of bed, stepping in the broken glass from the picture frame. Ouch, majorly. I hopped, on my uncut foot to the medicine cabinet and grabbed myself a potion. The liquid burned the cut away, leaving behind a smooth fresh layer of skin. I walked, softly, as the foot was still sore, and picked up the glass.

Seifer had a red gash on his forehead. Art mirroring life, I guess. I take a shower, eat some breakfast, make some executive decisions, including but not limited to reducing the amount of hot dogs served. I sat back, relaxing in my prettiness. No man in Garden is prettier than me.

Maybe Irvine, but that’s nothing a few hired goons can’t fix.

I got a buzz from Quistis, informing me that Rinoa was coming to get her belongings. Praise Hyne I didn’t have to wait long. One can only see so much pink frills before one starts wearing them.

I split, grabbing Lionheart; the oh-so-coincidently named ultimate gunblade design, and went for a walk. Balamb Town was having an art festival today, and I wanted to buy some pottery. What? I like my Centran vases! They have a nice terracotta aesthetic that I like to work into my office. The walk wasn’t that long, and I didn’t really get to kill anything cool. Damned lowered monster populations. I wouldn’t have been a good guy if I knew that it would make life boring.

I arrived at the town, walking past the gas station, hearing a few mechanics snicker. Bastards, they will pay, oh, such paying they will do. I sheathed my long, hard gunblade, hehe, hard, and walked into the town proper.

Le sigh.

It turns out this big “art festival” consisted of Ma Dincht selling a few clay pots she made in her spare time. Granted, they were nice clay pots, and to an unobservant buyer could pass off as the real thing, but I still, really, really wanted genuine Centran pottery.

Oh, what the fuck? It’s cheap and the Dinchtes always need some spare cash, even with Zell being Mr. Hero. That might be my fault. I should probably give everyone that “Yay, we saved the world!” bonus I promised. Oh well. Maybe right after we pay taxes. Blame Cid, have him arrested, take over Garden and make them my slaves!

Damn, I may have revealed too much of my plan. I’ll kill you all when I’m done.

“Hi, Mrs. Dincht,” I said with an inquisitive smile that screamed, ‘I have come for purchases!’

“Why, Squall! What are you doing in town, I just saw that young lady...what was her name wandering about!” She said in her motherly voice. She just needed an apron and some cookies and I’d have to kill her for disgracing Joan Cleaver.

“Oh, Rinoa? We broke up.” She looked sad, I’m sure I didn’t. I fondled the pottery. All for Squally, all for Squally!

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry to hear that.” She looked at me as I stroked the vase. The vase will be mine, and we will rule over Garden together with an iron fist of vase! “Would you like one?”

“Oh, yes.” I reached for my coat pocket. It wasn’t where I expected it to be. I forgot I was wearing the blue duster. That would explain why so many people gave me double takes. I forgot how unbelievably hot I looked in this. Or maybe it was the fact that I look like a chick. Probably the chick thing.

“Oh, no Squall, I couldn’t,” she interjected as I pulled out some Gil. I was in no mood to argue. I shot her the Look that was not the Sexy Look but was the Look of Doom. She smiled and took my money, I took two vases.

Vases! Beautiful vases. All for Squally, la la la!

But then, smash! No more vases. I looked up to see a studly man chest before, brown with what may have been a kinky Estharian tattoo.

Raijin, congratulations, you are now on my kill list.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, it was just an accident, ya know?” He said with his fake island drawl. I knew as well as he did that he was from Balamb. He has no accent! It’s a fake! It’s for the chicks! Lies, all lies. He looked at my face, to see the Ice Princess nearly in tears. “Squall? You okay?”

I breathed deeply. Count to ten, smashing in his skull with broken pottery is not a way to aptly deal with the pain down in my soul. I will make his pain the same as mine, one day.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Sorry about the vases, ya know.”

“Whatever.” My heart and soul wants to weep for you, sweet vases. My mind says no, but my heart, my heart emphatically says yes!

“SQUALL.”

Oh shit, not the dyke bitch of doom.

“Hello Fujin.” Please note that that should be said so that if you substitute Fujin for Neumann, the tone does not change. I did not want to give her the look. Her look can beat my look to a bloody metaphorical pulp. Interestingly, I think her eye patch is just for show. One day I’m going to check, but today is not the day.

“VASE?” she held up a half of my broken pottery. I love my dead fake vase! On the inside, I was deeply tempted to pat her on the head and say ‘Yes, Rainman.’

“FIX.” She gathered the fragments. Raijin appeared to be distracted by a small shiny object, and she kicked him in the ankle. He followed us to their small, quaint, diminutive and horribly decorated home.

Honestly. You thought how Zell dressed was bad? Imagine that he exploded all over four walls and a floor. That’s the apartment I’m in. I extracted my vengeance by stealing twenty bucks from Raijin’s counter. Teaches you to not look wear you’re going even though I wasn’t looking where I was going. The vase is mine! You took him from me, damn you. Trying to seduce my dead vase…

Fujin held the vase up a moment later, and it looked as good as new. I knew lesbians were good for something. She handed it to me and flashed me a grim, but sweet smile. I need to wash myself now.

“SQUALL.” She gestured to the couch.

I sat. Raijin sat across from me. Shit, she saw me swipe the cash, didn’t she?

“Squall, we know you and Seifer didn’t exactly, ya know, get off.” I almost dropped my beautiful vase.

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, ya know, you two weren’t friends, ya know?” Fujin chuckled. Unlike her man-beard, she wasn’t oblivious to the wild sex.

“SEIFER. BOOK.” She gestured at a large pile of papers on the coffee table, a tacky maroon thing. Ick, yuck and ew.

“What she means is, Seifer wrote this book, ya know, and he needs to know you’ll be okay with it, ya know?”

I arched my sexy, slightly darkened eyebrow.

“What’s it about?” I looked at the paper and made a sly reach. Fujin gathered them for me.

“It’s about the War, and what preceded it.” Fujin said in her calmness voice. It’s a cool voice. If she got over the entire “ME ROBOT” thing she could be a good singer or voice actress. She handed over the document.

They escorted me to the door and I left, carrying my Vase, twenty dollars in cash, and a book by my ex-boyfriend that probably includes me in a starring role. This was a very strange day.

On the upside, at least Rinoa’s gone


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Author’s note: Sorry about the lack of lemon yet, but I promise you, it’s coming up. Also, my fingers are tired. Pretty much the entire next chapter is sexy!flashback, so be patient. The fappage will come in time, no? Also, writing two chapters in one day is hard. Way to stream of conciousness for me.