Monday, July 5, 2004

Chapter ten...or is it...?
(I'm sorry, I tend to lose count...anyway, I hope you all enjoy this one. This chapter is rated PG, due to adult language, and some suggestive content. That doesn't mean you have to drag your parents in here to read it, it's just a warning.)

Cloud glared at Lucia, in a mixture of outrage and confusion. “What?”

“You heard me!” Lucia advanced toward him again. “Drop your sword, now!”

Cloud slowly crouched, as though lowering his sword, when he swung the handle around at her. The unforeseen nature and the force of his strike knocked the handgun out of Lucia’s grasp and sent her stumbling backward, clutching her wrist in anguish.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to hit a lady?” she said frostily. She reached into the bosom of her outfit and whipped out a small switchblade.

“See, if I wasn’t so pissed right now, something like that would been a turn-on,” Cloud said bitterly. “I’ve tried asking you nicely, so now I’ll ask you again. What the fuck is going on here?”

Lucia did not reply. Instead, she swung her switchblade at him wildly. He dodged her fierce onslaught, trying his best not to injure her.

“That’s enough, Lucia,” a male voice echoed along the corridor.

Cloud spun around to face the anonymous intruder. He was about Cloud’s height, and had short, silvery-gray hair that was scattered about his head randomly. His eyes were a deep gray, as cold and as ruthless as steel. More important was the fact that he had an arm around Tifa’s slender neck at the moment, and had a gun pressed against her head.

“Cloud, meet Agent X,” Lucia said smugly, retrieving her handgun.

“Well, if it isn’t Cloud Strife, one of the late, unsung Protectors of the Planet,” X said tartly. “One would expect that someone of your caliber would know better than to leave his girl all alone on a corridor crawling with Shinra agents.”

Cloud glared at the stranger angrily. “If you hurt her, I swear I’ll kill you.”

“Touché, Strife,” said X with great nonchalance. “All bark and no bite. Don’t worry too much about Tifa. I’ll take good care of her.”

X pressed the cold steel of his handgun against Tifa’s cheek. She shuddered slightly with discomfort, and this brought a grin of satisfaction to X's face. Tifa, in her semi-conscious state, was barely aware of what was going on around her, and as such was unable to struggle against him.

Cloud stood there, pure rage reflected in his aquamarine eyes,and he gripped the hilt of his sword more tightly now. He could have unleashed an attack on X, but in doing that, he knew he would endanger not only his life, but Tifa's as well, and that was a risk he could not afford to take. He was well aware that Lucia had retrieved and reloaded her handgun, and was ready to fire the moment he tried to attack X.

Another agent came up behind Cloud and addressed X. “Sir, we’re preparing to move the clones up to the lab now!”

“Good. It was nice meeting you, Strife,” X said. “I’ll make sure to give Tifa your regards.”

Cloud felt a sharp, stunning blow to the back of his head, and everything swirled around him before fading into subconscious perpetuity.

+++++++

The one word that would suitably describe the entire city of Junon would be contradiction. While the people of Upper Junon lived in the lap of luxury, the people of Lower Junon still struggled with the issues of pollution, harsh taxes and low income. Upper Junon was quickly evolving from a military state to a tourist destination, full of casinos, restaurants, malls, and even a military museum. The people even had access to the finest cruises in the entire world. Lower Junon did not evolve far from days of old, except for the addition of another wooden building, and the locals did not even have access to an unpolluted beach.

Unless one was rich, or knew someone who was, one could not afford the luxuries of upper class life. In this day and age, money was the only way one could buy fame, or have any influence in society at large, and this was the reality that those of the lower class were forced-fed from the cradle to the grave.

“A truly unfortunate reality,” Abbis thought, as she and Tiago strolled along the dusty streets of Lower Junon. They had sought refuge here after a group of anonymous intruders ambushed them not far from Fort Condor. They fought as best as they could, but the intruders retreated swiftly, taking Cross Blade with them. Their sore, scar-ridden bodies were living proof of their ordeal.

The first building, which had previously been a house, had now been transformed into a cozy inn. The two entered the room and were instantly noticed by the manager behind the counter.

“Excuse me, but how much will it cost for us to rent a room?” Tiago asked.

“Twenty gil,” the manager said firmly.

Abbis reached into his pocket and pulled out a purse, full of gil. The jingling in the purse caught the manager’s attention immediately. Abbis emptied sufficient gil from the purse and gave it to the manager. He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a small brass key.

“Thank you,” the manager said falsely. “You’ll be staying in room three.”

Abbis and Tiago turned to go, when a young man approached to counter. “Yo, is there an empty crib ‘round here for me to crash for the night?” he asked the manager.

Abbis glared at the young man over her shoulder. He was clad in a black hooded jacket, baggy jeans, and sneakers. A cap was perched his head, backwards, and he wore as though it were a crown. He also wore a pair of glasses, but opted to look over them instead of through them while he spoke. Abbis stared at the young man in awe. His face, his outfit, even his mannerisms, seemed all too familiar to her. Yet, she couldn’t pinpoint where she had seen him before.

The manager looked at the young man bemusedly. “Pardon me?”

“Then I shall speak in a manner so as to convey my statement to you comprehensibly,” the young man said, clearing his throat dramatically. “What I verbalized previously was merely a query as to the availability of accommodation here at your humble inn, good sir.”

“So…you’re asking me if there’s any empty rooms here.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, we’re all out of rooms for the night. Too bad.”

The young man looked at the manager in disbelief. “What?”

“You heard me, boy. Now get out of here!”

“Hey, hold up a sec!” the young man interjected. “I’m a professional D.J, and I have this huge gig in Upper Junon tomorrow. If you don’t give me somewhere to sleep, and I miss that gig tomorrow, I swear my agent will eat you alive.”

“You’re a D.J, boy?” the manager asked, ogling him closely. “D.J. who?”

“D.J…um…” the young man hesitated. “…VileFantom. Yeah, that’s right. D.J. VileFantom.”

Everything suddenly came into focus for Abbis. “Oh my god!!” she shrieked. “It’s you! It’s really you! Oh my god! Can I get your autograph?”

“Um, sure…anything for my adoring fans,” the young man said nervously, as Abbis snatched a pen and a piece of paper from the desk and hastened over to him.

“Do you know this man, ma’am?” the manager inquired impatiently.

Abbis turned to the manager. “Do I know this man? How could you not know this man? Do you, like, live under a rock or something? You’d better give this guy a room, if you know what’s good for you.”

The manager grumbled. “There ain’t any more room here.”

“Well…” Abbis said, with a smirk of satisfaction, “He can bunk with me and my friend here. Right, Tiago?”

Abbis aimed a sly wink at Tiago, and he nodded right on cue. The manager grudgingly submitted to Abbis’ request, and he led them into their room. It wasn’t the most elegant room, but it would do.

When the manager finally left, Abbis laughed and took a seat on the bed closest to the window. The young man looked at her in surprise.

“Thanks for saving my behind out there,” he said. “Who are you anyway? And what’s so funny, Kakashi-anne?”

“You, a D.J?” she said between fits of laughter. “Good one, Dave.”

Dave’s eyes were wide with shock. “How do you know my name?”

“It’s me, Abby. Otherwise known as Abbis, from MyOtaku.”

“No way.”

Abbis rose and went to where Dave was standing. When she was a few feet away from him, she raised her arm and unleashed a powerful slap on his face. Surprised, he stumbled backward, clutching his sore cheek.

“Holy cow, it is you.” Dave’s face wore an overwhelmed expression. “Geez girl, that hurt.”

“Sorry, I was just trying to prove a point.”

“So, where are you guys headed from here?” asked Dave.

“I don’t know,” Tiago stated dully. “Here in Junon, we’re safe as long as we keep a low profile. That’s all that matters at this point.”

Abbis nodded hesitantly, and made her way over to the only window in the room and peered outside at the dull scenery. “I guess you’re right,” she said. “For now, let’s just get some sleep. We'll figure that out in the morning.”

+++++++

It was only at nightfall, after burying Choco Billy’s body, that Malkav decided to make his move out of the Chocobo Farm, donning the leathery wings of Chaos and soaring through the night sky, inconspicuous to the sleeping world below. Driven by the need for his next meal, and unsure of where to go next, and weary from all the flying, he opted to make a pit stop in Junon. Landing some distance away so as not to be noticed in his winged form, he entered the building to the far end of Lower Junon. Above the doorway was an aged wooden sign that read, ‘Ye Old Tavern.’

One change that Malkav noticed, other than his Vincent-like appearance, was the fact that his senses were much sharper than usual. Upon entering the tavern, the strong smell of whiskey and cigarettes was enough to make him feel intoxicated with every breath he took. A pair of drunks sat around one of the two wooden tables, drinking and sharing lewd jokes about the attractive barmaid that was serving them. Over at the other table, a man was sprawled over facedown, snoring loudly.

Malkav took a seat on one of the uncomfortable barstools and called for a drink. The same barmaid he had seen came over to the counter to serve him, flashing her most radiant smile. He rested his chin in his hands and got carried away while observing her figure, which was amply displayed by her tight work outfit.

“Hard night, huh?” she asked, pouring him a drink.

“Probably not as hard a night as you,” he said sympathetically. “I don’t see how you put up with those drunk assholes over at that table.”

She laughed. “Considering my job, I have to put up with drunk assholes every night. Tonight is no different, I guess.”

“…Perhaps. What’s your name anyway?”

“Eva.”

“That’s a beautiful name. Well, Eva, what time do you get off?”

“We’re closing in a few minutes. Why don’t you stick around?” she offered openly.

Malkav smiled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

(Watch out for chapter eleven sometime in the not-too-distant future. Thanks for reading.)

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