Author's Notes: Well, here it is. To those of you that reviewed Stranded, this is the real beginning to my story, so hopefully the character's changes won't seem so...abrupt now. Granted, they won't be entirely as they were in the game (because let's face it, they weren't given the greatest development) so I added some of my own touches in, but I'm hoping it won't suck too much.
I'm also not really one for songfics, so I didn't just throw in the lyrics in between the story. Instead, I decided to try having the characters think/speak some of the lines to aid in the storytelling process. Hopefully it isn't too odd.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in this story; they are the respective property of Square-Enix. I also do not own the song. It is the creative property of the Goo Goo Dolls, but man, what a great song it is.
Chapter One/Seifer/Sympathy
The funny thing about alcohol is that it burns the hell out of your throat when it's going down, but Hyne, is the numbing sensation afterwards more than worth it. It's almost like some sort of test to see if you really want it. Can you handle the fire that you have to walk through?
Fuckin'-A right I can.
The bartender comes back to refill my shot, but I just sneer and snatch the bottle out of his hand. He knows better than to protest my action.
I'm Seifer Almasy, feared Sorceress' Knight. See also: biggest fucking coward on the planet.
Yes, you heard right. I, Seifer Almasy, have openly admitted to being a Grade-A pussy. Not even Chicken Wuss has me beat.
I down over half the bottle after that revelation.
I've been chased out of just about every town I've stumbled into. No one takes pity on lapdogs, which is just as good.
I don't want their Hyne-damned pity. And pity for what? I wasn't sided with evil. I was just on the losing end of the battle. That's all there is. There is no good or bad, just winning and losing.
I set out to prove that I could follow my dream, regardless of consequences and that's exactly what I did. I became the Sorceress' Knight. I never lost sight of my ideals. That trophy goes to Captain Pubes and his little band of heroes.
Heroes. Yeah, fuckin' right.
What's really sickening is that everyone thinks he's the better warrior for defeating me. Well, let's review. One fighter versus three fighters. Wow, now there's an even battle.
Why the hell do I even care? It was over a year ago.
'So I'll just sit here and keep killin' myself from the inside out.' I take another swig of the whiskey. It's pretty damn weak. I call the bartender over and order something much stronger. Trabian Whiskey, now here we go.
For being such a backwater town, Winhill has some damn good liquor. Plus, it's the only town that hasn't run me out with pitchforks.
My guess is it's because this is about the only place on Gaia that I didn't try to blow up or burn to the ground.
Some people take things so personally.
If they had a chance to follow their childhood dream, I'd have one hell of a time believing they wouldn't take it. But maybe that was where I went wrong. It was my childish fantasy. I could have walked away, or at least that's what I like to tell myself. That sorceress bitch had me under her spell, but no one would ever believe that. If it were Pubes, he'd be welcomed back with open arms.
Thank Hyne I ain't him.
"Yes. Thank Hyne you aren't
the one who made SeeD, won over your Instructor and Rinoa and saved
the world. Thank Hyne for that." I slam the nearly
empty bottle down against the bar.
The other patrons glance up briefly at the outburst and quickly busy themselves with their drinks as they realize it came from me.
They may not chase me out, but they still openly fear me.
Well, at least they're not all that dumb.
Finishing off the bottle, I toss out some five's and exit the bar.
After spending the night and a good portion of the morning and afternoon in dim lighting, the sunlight nearly blinds me.
Leaning against the brick wall, I fish a cigarette out of my pocket.
"Under all the talk, the lies...are all the empty things disguised as me." Some random person eyed me as they walked past; I guess talking to yourself is strange to some people. Go figure.
If I would have been told two years ago that I would have been the right hand in bringing about the almost destruction of the planet I would have laughed my ass off. No one ever thought I'd amount to anything and I guess they're proved right. But for that brief moment, I tasted glory. I tasted their disappointment in failing me. That was enough to make it worthwhile.
Stamping the cigarette under my boot, I head off in the direction of the hotel; I could probably stand to get a few hours of sleep.
Drinking yourself into a stupor really takes it out of ya.
Sometimes it's too easy to think what would have happened if I had just been executed. Matron was the only reason I wasn't. Somehow she managed to convince the Estharian jury that I had been possessed, just as she had.
What a load of bullshit. I was weak; that's the only reason she had any hold on me. Ultimecia, you fucking bitch.
Halfway to the hotel, a whirlwind of blond comes speeding past. Even with her head down and running like a bat outta hell, I'd recognize her anywhere.
Trepe.
Suddenly, I'm not so tired. I stalk behind her at a safe distance, curiosity getting the better of me.
"Well, Trepe, I never would've guessed you were a drinker." Chuckling to myself, I walk back into the tiny bar and lo and behold, there's the little instructor sitting at the bar.
Walking up the bar, I take a seat on the stool next to her, "I'll have whatever this delicate flower is havin'." I catch a darkness pass over her eyes for a moment. I knew that'd get a rise out of her.
Drink set in front of me, I down the shot and immediately regret it. A Balamb Pan-Galactic, holy fuckin' hell. Suppressing the urge to go into a seizure right then and there, I settle for clutching my head.
"Holy Hell..." Trepe starts chuckling at my response.
"Don't you know you have to drink these very carefully and slowly?" Her point is emphasized by her dainty sipping.
"Dammit,
Trepe, I never knew you were connoisseur of liquor." Her
head perks up when she hears her name. "
"Mind tellin' me why you're downing shots like it's going out of style?"
"Yes. I do." She finishes off the Pan-Galactic and orders a double shot of Trabian whiskey, downing the contents in one gulp.
I always did admire a woman who could hold her own with liquor.
She reaches down for, I assume, her purse to pay for the drinks only to realize that she had forgotten it. Unconsciously I reach into my pocket and pull out enough to pay for her drinks, plus another round. Who knows, if she drinks enough I might find out just what the hell she's doing here.
She gives me an appreciative nod and orders another double.
Just as I'm about to open my mouth to pry again, she shoves a shot in my direction. Oh, I can play that game, Instructor.
"He chose her. He utterly, truly and completely chose her." I don't need to ask; everyone knew she had a thing for Cap'n Pubes, except the man himself. So I play it wise and keep my damn mouth shut.
There's a thud, so I turn my head to see Trepe with her head buried in her hands, sobbing. I never could stand a woman crying. Most damn annoying thing. Hesitantly, I reach an arm over to console her, which only makes the sobbing louder.
This is going to be a long night...