Disclaimer: Square owns all its Final Fantasy characters. The
rest is mine! Mwahahaha... (All flames shall be met with a
mocking scornful laugh, because my armor has Flameproof on it.
Notes: Sorry that this is taking so long to get updated. I've just not totally felt like working on it lately....sowwies.
And to clear up any possible confusion, any sections of this (and the previous) chapter that are in the past, are not being told to Kuja by Kefka. They're merely retellings of the past in order for the reader to know what's happened. ^^;
When You're Evil and Dead
Chapter 31: Sephiroth
After a few more years, Kefka was allowed to go to the cafeteria. Supervised, of course, but he hadn't been 'stable' enough to go before.
He found himself at a table, staring down at an empty plate and a glass of orange juice. There was a man sitting across the table, tall and silent and pathetic looking. Though fine enough of face to stare at. He was wearing a black robe, and his long silver hair was bound into a ponytail. The mass was draped over his shoulder, and the man was cradling it like a baby. The hand that was absently petting the hair had a green tag attatched at the wrist. Nonviolent, unstable. Kefka's tag was still orange. Unstable and prone to violent outbursts.
"Aren't you a pathetic looking sod," Kefka smirked, sipping his orange juice. He had learned the faint taste of the tranquilizers, but ignored it. The man looked up from the table.
"You. You look like someone just shot your pet chocobo and barbecued it in front of you."
The bishounen's stomach growled audibly. "Please don't mention barbecue."
Kefka tapped the edge of the glass on his lip. "Or maybe just a nice chocobo pot pie..."
"Stop!" His face screwed up like he was in pain. "I'm starving!"
Kefka shrugged. "Who isn't?" He pointed a thin finger at the bishounen's untouched glass of juice. "Shut up and drink your juice."
"I don't like it," came the nearly-pouted reply. "It makes me tired."
"It's supposed to."
"Still don't like it."
"You're awfully whiny," Kefka said, glowering at him.
"Though, true, I wish we had a little more variety in what we were allowed to drink." Kefka took another sip. "This place makes me crave tequila."
A blink. "Tequila..."
Kefka sighed. "You did have tequila on your planet, didn't you?"
"I think so..." He twisted his silvery hair in his hands. "I never drank though."
"What? Why not?"
"Well, I wasn't...um..." His low, smooth voice wavered, and he twisted his hair again.
Kefka was briefly distracted by the strange glow of the man's green eyes. "Hmm?"
"Well...I was only old enough to legally drink a little while before I died...." His nose scrunched up. "And they controlled almost everything that I did..."
"Uwee? They who?"
"The Shinra." A frown.
"Ooh, sucky name. Uwee hee. Poor sap. That means you're probably a virgin too."
"Uwee hee hee!" Kefka slammed his empty glass on the table, making the other man jerk in surprise. One of the attendants brought him a fresh glass of orange juice.
"I don't think my misfortunes are funny!"
"I do," the blonde cackled briefly, before sipping his fresh juice. "Gods, I hate this stuff. Makes my stomach get all acidy. But you gotta take what you can get."
"I guess so."
"So, what's your name, you little whiner?"
The man narrowed his eyes, looking down at Kefka. "You're not really one to call anyone little."
"That's your name?"
"No!" He shook his head.
"Then what is it?"
"Ah. Well, Sephiroth.." He pointed at himself. "I am Kefka. Feel free to fear me."
"You're hardly scary," Sephiroth said, though he didn't look quite so certain. "It's hard to be intimidated by a little man wearing a bathrobe with chocobos on it."
"I'm waiting for my new outfit!" Kefka snapped at him. Sephiroth winced. The blonde snickered.
"You're like a scary, angry little...um...mog."
"Small white animal, with slanty eyes and wings and big nose and a pom-pom."
"They're called mogs."
"MOOGLES!" Kefka snarled loudly. Sephiroth winced again. "Uwee hee hee hee hee..."
"I knooooow," Kefka purred. He took a moment to leer at the nervous bishounen. "You know, you'd be pretty if you weren't so depraved looking."
Sephiroth blinked a few times, then shook his head a bit. "I'm not gay."
"How would you know, you're a virgin."
"You see, you don't!"
Another frown. "I suppose not..." Sephiroth arched a brow. "Though I'm quite certain that even if I was, I wouldn't be doing anything with you."
"And why's that?"
"You're not really very cute, y'know."
Kefka snorted. "That's very shallow of you."
"I have every right to be shallow," Sephiroth returned the snort.
"I suppose so." He pursed his lips. "So, if I'm not intimidating, and I'm not cute, then what am I?"
"You just look like an angry little blonde man, that's all."
"Uwee hee hee!" Kefka slammed a fist on the table. Sephiroth just stared at him, blinking a few times before a miserable look crossed his face. His expression scrunched up again, and then:
"Oh, Mother! Oh, me! Oh gods! I hate it here! I hate it here! I hate it! I hate it! I hate it! I--" Sephiroth's screaming rant stopped suddenly. The ponytail dropped from his fingers, and his eyes rolled back. Sephiroth slumped forward onto the table, quite far, knocking over his glass of orange juice in the progress.
"Uwee..." Kefka stared at the little tranquilizer dart sticking out from the mass of silvery hair. A few guards shuffled forward, collecting Sephiroth and carrying him off. Kefka tapped a nail on his chin, watching them go. "Must be my wonderful influence."
"I won't ask what you meant by getting to know him better," Kuja said, a sour tone to his voice.
"A wise decision," Kefka smirked. There was a pause, as they glanced back down at Sephiroth. Kuja sighed.
"This place sucks."
"Uwee, I know." Kefka turned back to face him. "But....Kuja-doll, it's up to you to leave."
Kuja frowned, toying with a lock of silver-violet hair. "I don't know if I can leave. I don't know what to do. What if this happens again? What'll I do if I change again?"
"From what I've learned, you've just got to take whatever cards death deals you."
Kuja sighed, "and here I was just getting used to being a woman."
"Kujaaa, I don't care if you're a guy or a girl, I'm not that picky! I just want you to come back." He fixed his most cute pleading look on Kuja.
Kuja looked doubtful. "You really...don't care?"
"Not really..." Kefka pointed behind him. "And I'm sure sword-boy won't really care either, once he gets over the shock."
The doubtful look persisted. "But...why not?"
Kefka shrugged lightly. "Don't know. Just don't." He teetered on his heels for a moment. "All I know is that I...we...want you Kuja. Just Kuja. Regardless of how well you are or are not hung, uwee."
"What's that supposed to mean?!"
He backpedaled a few steps, tripping over Sephiroth's inert form in the process. Kefka gave a little "oomph!" as he landed on his butt. "Owwie..."
Kuja "Rar"-ed loudly, and Kefka winced as the door rattled behind the force of a disgruntled Flare casting.
"Uwee hee, sounds like someone's meds are wearing off."
"You little fucker, don't toy with my emotions! I'm unstable! UNSTABLE!" He waved the little tag in front of the window.
"Now, doll, calm down, I didn't mean anything bad by it--"
"The hell you didn't! I ought to get out of here, just to rip off your--"
"Can you guys stop yelling, you're interrupting my nap."
They fell silent, looking down at the speaker. Sephiroth was silent again, eyes closed and fingers clutching an imaginary pillow.
Kuja pounded a fist on the window. "Get out of my sight, you little menace!"
"I don't care! Maybe I'll just stay in here forever!" Kuja dropped out of view, and they heard a thunk as he sat noisily against the door. Kefka blinked a few times, sitting up.
"Are you sure you're not still a girl, doll? It sure sounds like you're on the rag or something.."
There was no response. Kefka pouted.
Kuja still wasn't talking after Sephiroth fully regained conciousness, so the boys were forced to leave.
"So, do you think sh...he....Kuja will come back soon?" Sephiroth asked, still wobbling a bit as he followed Kefka back to the villains room. Kefka grunted noncomittally. "Eh? Is that a yes-grunt or a no-grunt?"
A blink. "Uhh..."
"Don't strain yourself, sword boy." Kefka huffed lightly.
"Okay?" Sephiroth paused for a moment, brandishing his sword dramatically. "Yatta!"
"Good to see that drooling on the floor didn't damage any more brain cells."
"Nope....I wasn't passed out too long, was I?"
"Just a chapter or so."
"No, not too long," Kefka sighed, kicking a rock.
"What'd you do while I was...ur...out?"
"Uh huh." Kefka sighed again. "You weren't gone that long."
"Where'd I go again?"
"Happy drunk passed out on the floor land."
"Explains why my head hurts more," Sephiroth said, poking at a lump on the back of his head. "You didn't hit me, did you?"
"No, though I probably kicked you a few times."
"Oh. That's not nice."
"That's why I did it."
"True." They continued down the sidewalk. "What'd you talk about?"
"Stuff. Mostly about how stupid you are," Kefka smirked. "And other less relevant things."
Sephiroth seemed to pause in his thoughts. "You didn't tell him about the sex on the table, did you?"
Kefka sneered briefly. "No, I believe I left that part out."
Sephiroth sighed. "Good."
"Why the hell would I want to bring that back up, anyway?"
"I dunno. You have a tendency to do things to get your ass kicked."
The bishie scratched his ear, looking vaguely thoughtful again. "How come Kuja wasn't talking when we left?"
"He's a bitch, that's all."
end chapter 31