Disclaimer: Square owns all its Final Fantasy characters. The rest is mine! Mwahahaha... (All flames shall be met with a proper retort from my chocobo. He likes to cast Meteo on people, not sure why.) And, on another note, thanks to everyone reviewing the newer chapters. The more you review, the more I feel like writing. ^^; (And if you're still here after the last chapter, congrats, you're truly wonderful.)
When You're Evil and Dead
Chapter 34: How Many Fanboys is Too Many?
Kuja's jaw popped as he yawned through the end of his nap. He rubbed his eyes, noting the rapt look he was receiving from Kefka.
"...don't stare at me like that, it's mildly disturbing."
He looked around the table. The Cat was asleep on the new newspaper, but the other seat was empty.
"Ah....getting his sword....realigned...uwee hee."
"That's what the dumb git gets for betting that I couldn't twist his blade into a pretzel."
"Where there's a will, there's a way, I always say..."
"That wasn't very nice."
"What, you're siding with him?" Kefka huffed. "He dared me to do it!"
"And you took him up on it."
"Glad to see nothing's changed," Kuja sighed.
"Uwee...." Kefka scooted his chair a bit closer to Kuja's. "Say, maybe we'll get lucky and he won't come back."
He looked at Kefka doubtfully. "What makes you say that?"
"Well...." The chair scooted again. "It would be quite fortunate. On my part, at least."
Kuja sweatdropped. "You really don't care that I'm a guy now, do you?"
"It...uwee...Does change things, yes it does." The blonde peered up at Kuja, grinning. "But no, I'd say it makes things easier."
"Because now I know what's under your skirt, doll."
Kuja's fist connected with Kefka's pale forehead, and sent he and his chair back several inches. Kefka drooped over the table, still grinning as he held an empty glass against his forehead. The ice in the glass clinked as he giggled.
"Uwee...you really haven't changed, doll...." He looked up at Kuja woozily. "You're still ravishingly...ravishing.."
"And you're still a persistent idiot."
"So..." Kuja picked up his glass and took a sip of its murky maroon contents. "Did I miss anything else while I was napping?"
"Just me staring adoringly at you."
"I thought I told you to stop doing that!" Kuja half-raised in his seat, preparing to deck him again.
Sephiroth's voice boomed behind them. "Ooh, violence toward Kefka? Let me help!"
Kefka ducked as the Masamune slashed at his head. "Hey! Mind the hair!"
Sephiroth smirked. "In the flesh." He flopped in his chair, straightened sword in hand.
Kuja turned in his seat. "I see your sword's better."
"No thanks to Kefka," Sephiroth said. "Can we go back to beating him up?"
"I'm afraid you arrived at the end of Kefka beat-up time," Kuja smirked.
"There shouldn't be a designated beating up Kefka time!" the villain in question flailed a bit.
"Poor thiiiing," Kuja patted the top of his head.
"Yes, that's right, pity me," Kefka grumbled.
"You're quite pitiful," Sephiroth said.
"You're going to be quite bald if you don't shut up," Kefka growled, wiggling his fingers menacingly. Sephiroth cringed, reaching up to check his hair.
"Uh...change of topic..." he said, apparently satisfied with his hair's safety. "Um...Kuja?"
"Why did you change back into a guy all the sudden anyways? I mean, you were a chick for...several millenia."
"That's a good question," Kefka said, slouching back into his seat. "I mean, if you were turned into a chick as your punishment, why end it all the sudden?"
"I asked that myself," Kuja said, sipping his drink. "From what I remember, the doctors at Hell's Bells told me that when everyone dies, their amount of punishment is determined and allotted."
"What's that mean in English?"
"It means that how long I was female was pre-determined," Kuja said.
"Seems like a rather random amount of time," Sephiroth noted. Kuja shrugged.
"It might've been."
"Well, your punishment seems...rather obvious," Kefka said. "But what about mine? Or his?"
"You said yourself that you're on permanent low-power mode," Kuja said. "Isn't that punishment enough?"
"I suppose so," he sighed.
Sephiroth scratched his head. "What was my torture? Not having my sword?" He held up the Masamune. "That doesn't make much sense, since I found it fairly soon after I was released from Hell's Bells..."
"Uwee hee, maybe they made you permanently stupid."
"Ha ha... Oh, I know what my punishment is!!"
"What's that?" Kuja looked at him curiously.
"Having to put up with him!" Sephiroth jabbed a finger in Kefka's direction. The blonde flushed angrily, flailing in his seat.
"That's not funny!!"
Kuja perked. "Heeey, maybe that's my new punishment!"
"Don't even suggest it!" Kefka pounded a fist on the table. "How dare anyone use me as punishment without my permission!"
"Don't worry, I'm sure they got your consent, and you just don't remember."
Kefka pouted. "Hmph. That's not very fair."
"What do you expect? It's Hell."
"This is true..."
"And if they did that, imagine what else they did to you without your remembering?" Sephiroth said with a smirk.
"That's not funny! What if they--" Kefka suddenly fell silent.
He and Sephiroth looked up with dark, suspicious expressions. Kuja tensed momentarily as he felt a hand rest on his shoulder. He glanced to his side, spying upon a set of long pointy dark blue nails.
"Ah, Miss Kuja, what a pleasant surprise to find you here."
Kuja recognized the voice and cringed. He tilted his head, looking up at the new arrival. "Hello, Mr. Seymour."
"That's Maester Seymour Guado. But you may call me Seymour." Seymour peered at Kefka and Sephiroth. "Though I'd rather if your little friends didn't call me at all."
Sephiroth growled, picking up his sword. Kefka made an equally displeased noise.
"So who's the blue-haired freak?" Kefka snapped.
"You're one to talk, you clown," Seymour said in his persistently airy voice.
"Boys, this is Seymour. I met him while in Hell's Bells."
"Oooh, so you just got released," Sephiroth smirked. Kuja heard a very faint snort come from Seymour.
"Seymour," Kuja said, keeping his voice low. "You should probably know that I'm not a woman."
"You're not?" His voice lilted slightly in surprise. "That's strange, I was under the impression that you were female."
"He's not!" Sephiroth said.
"Yeah, we saw!" Kefka giggled. Kuja blushed.
Seymour blinked a few times, and then shrugged. "What a pity."
"Are you gonna leave now?" Sephiroth wondered, tapping the Masamune on the table. The other villain eyed the sword, then looked at its owner.
"Why would I?"
"I don't need another fanboy," Kuja grumbled. "Or cat."
Meow x17 peeked over the side of the table. "Hey, leave me out of this, meow!"
Seymour stared at Meow x17 for a moment, then sighed. He batted idly at the blue bang in front of his eyes. "A talking cat. Now I know I'm really dead."
"Well, why don't you go be dead someplace else?" Sephiroth suggested. Seymour narrowed his eyes at him.
"How very amusing..."
"Seymour, what if I asked you to leave?"
"Why would I want to leave your wonderful prescence?" He waved a dismissive hand at Kefka and Sephiroth. "I think you need a companion who is a bit more...cultured."
Kuja's nose wrinkled. "A bit of culture would be nice, but I've spent far too long training these two to start over now."
"We're trained?" Kefka wondered.
"Works for me," Sephiroth whispered. Kefka nodded in agreement. Seymour sighed.
"How very peculiar..."
Kefka sneered at him. "Yes, you are."
Sephiroth waved his sword again. "Oooh, I know. How about we fight?"
"No, just to fight."
"Ah...I believe I'll pass."
"Oh no, I really do insist," Sephiroth said, standing. Seymour was tall, but Sephiroth was still taller. (The fact that he was in boots and Seymour was wearing what looked like house slippers probably helped.) He posed a bit with the Masamune, and menaced his best menace. Seymour cringed and took a step back.
"Dear me, I believe I have an appointment....somewhere else," Seymour said, jabbing a long blue fingernail over his shoulder. "I'm afraid I'll have to be leaving now..."
"Aw, isn't that a shame," Kefka smirked.
"Until next time we meet, Kuja...stay well."
"R-right..." Kuja blinked as Seymour scurried off like his robe was on fire.
"Uwee hee hee..."
Sephiroth sat back down, looking quite pleased with himself. "You meet all kinds of weirdoes at Hell's Bells, Kuja, you should've been more careful."
Kuja blinked again. "My mistake."
"Uwee..." Kefka adjusted his feather. "I wonder what his punishment is?"
"I'm not really sure I want to know," Kuja said.
"Truthfully, neither do I..." Kefka smirked. "He was rather creepy."
"The kettle calling the pot black, isn't that the saying..."
Kefka glanced around the table. "What pot? Are we having coffee? Uwee, I could go for some coffee!"
Kuja sweatdropped. "No, I don't think you need any coffee, Kefka."
The blonde pouted. "Phooey. Not even a little cup? Maybe a little mochaccino?"
"I don't think that'd be wise," Sephiroth said. Kefka wiggled his fingers.
"Oooh, I know! How about a nice little glass of Crème de Menthe...."
"You idiot, that's not a coffee," Sephiroth sniffed. Kefka stuck his tongue out at him.
"I meant with the coffee."
"No coffee, Kefka."
"But why nooot?"
"That would be like giving a horny moogle a bottle of essence of kupo nut."
Kefka and Sephiroth both cringed. "Scary image."
Kefka blinked a few times at Kuja. "Are you comparing me to a horny moogle?"
"I am if it's necessary, Kefka."
He seemed to consider this, then flashed Kuja a wicked grin as he reached over and took the closest available hand. "Oh no, Kuja-doll, I'm much worse than a horny moogle."
"There go those unwanted mental images again," Sephiroth sighed, resting his forehead on the table.
"Ack! Lemme go!" Kuja attempted to pull his hand free.
"Uwee, no, I've claimed this as mine."
"Let it go."
"Uwee hee hee...no."
end chapter 34