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[shockwavepulsar]

Limit Break; ty for your patience with replies and starters that I owe. I got hit with the flu last week and I'm on the mend now. Should have some posts up this weekend!

[shockwavepulsar]

Quistis begins to walk forward, crossing her arms over her chest as she feels the swell of magical power simmering and buzzing beneath her skin. Something catches her eye to her left. A movement. Her eyes trail to a patch of snow that's almost rippling as if something is burrowing underneath the ground. Then what appears to be some kind of a root peeks out from within it and Quistis stops, slinging her arm to the side to direct her magic towards it. She can't tell if her slow spell was effective, or if it's simply moving slowly because of the cold. But if it's what she thinks it is, the spell wouldn't have done anything at all. It's moving a little faster. "Malboro up ahead. Be prepared." Her eyes follow the direction of the root, towards where the body probably is. Judging by the length of it, this is a big one. But the forest is dense, and she can't quite tell where the brush ends and it begins. They'll have to get closer. She looks at him for a moment, the slightest, easy-to-miss trace of fear present in her gaze. They're going to have to put the utmost trust in each other to get through this. She's got defense against silence, at least, so she can use spells. But if they can't see each other, it's going to be a hell of a battle.

Sure enough, a slightly green mist begins to rise from beneath the bushes, its warmth making a noticeable depression in the snow as it melts. The smell is awful.

That, he agrees with-- neither of them are afraid of the dark, but it's a lot harder to defend yourself against things creeping in the shadows when you can't fucking see them. It's Survival 101.

And, yeah, it's freezing out here; he runs warm all the time anyway, but even that's not quite enough against winter in the northern part of the world.

He's tempted to reach deep, to crank the internal temperature up a couple more degrees to try to ward off the icy breeze that cuts through the wilderness, but there's the threat of cooking his organs if something goes wrong. Ever since the war, it's like the dial on his magic was cranked all the way up and then broken off-- what used to be well-trained, well-honed battle magic, as innate as breathing, is now wild, unpredictable. Sometimes it works. Sometimes...

Seifer hunches his shoulders slightly against the wind instead, and decides he'll survive.

Better slightly cold than internally combusted.

He won't lie that it pisses him off to no end to be this cautious about it, about something he's had his entire life, about something he knows better than he knows himself.

Fuck that bitch, he thinks darkly, not for the first time today, even; for a moment, it's like she's laughing in his ear.

They walk, but they don't have to go very far, crunching through the snow, before there's a rustle up ahead, a low grunt of intimidation, something lying in wait. Probably large, probably full of teeth.

Probably very hungry.

He can't quite stop the grin that overtakes the scowl on his face at the prospect of another challenge, pulling Hyperion off his shoulders, sliding a full magazine of paramagically-laced bullets in place and tucking the empty into his pocket next to the stone.

Quistis is better at the distance magic-- Seifer's reckless, but throwing a fireball and burning the whole forest down before it's strictly necessary would be one of the dumber ideas he's had, so he stops, allowing her to get a step or two ahead of him.

"After you, Instructor," he tells her, gesturing grandly with one gloved hand toward the source of the noise.

She can flush it out. He'll run it through.

[shockwavepulsar]

Adding onto this

because I thought more about specifically Ulti coming to the past to where everyone were kids, and how Edea, who was already a sorceress, took Ulti's powers so she couldn't pass them on to either Selphie or Quistis (which, maybe she was looking for herself). What if Edea knew? When Ulti possessed her. What if she knew it was Quistis? Quistis, who was drawn to Squall because she wanted to take Ellone's place. Who was jealous of Rinoa because he showed affection for her. Her speech at the end of the final battle always felt so out of place but it kinda makes sense in this context. She says, "Reflect on your childhood. Your sensation, your words, your emotions. Time...it will not wait. No matter how hard you hold on. It escapes you. And...." There are lots of possibilities here. First, why is she mentioning their childhood out of nowhere? It seems so oddly sentimental for someone who has been trying to kill them the whole time, who wanted to compress all of time into a single moment for her to control. Why, at the end of her life, does she suddenly get so introspective? Because she was there for it. She was a direct part of their childhood. And maybe in her death, she remembers. Her sensations, her words, her emotions were fueled by the desire to be someone important to Squall. Not just in her childhood, but for her whole life. Time wouldn't wait for her. He grew up, he didn't need her anymore. Even when she failed as his teacher and he surpassed her. He didn't need her. Yet, she held on. It could also be a warning, a plea for him to understand and to stop her at the very start. If she had been a sorceress in her childhood, she probably never would have gotten to become SeeD. But Edea stops that from happening, which sets in motion her growing up to become one of the youngest to ever become SeeD. She was meant to destroy herself.

Limit Break; Okay so everyone is well aware of the Rinoa is Ultimecia theory and how it’s been debunked and such. I’ve also seen (very very rarely) people suggesting maybe Quistis is Ultimecia but I haven’t ever seen anyone give reason to that other than her hair in the front looks similar and Quistis is the only one to have her portrait facing the other way. SO I’m gonna give it a go. It might be bad, but I want to try. Okay so here are some points (under a cut because this is a long boi):

Keep reading

[shockwavepulsar]

Limit Break; Shipping things.

I love how my top favorite pairings with Squall aren't even with people from FF8. How does something like that even happen? I think I started shipping Squall with Aerith like 20 years ago and Squall and Yuna not long after. Squall and Cloud is also a classic, but I honestly don't know how Squall and Yuna happened. Squall/Aerith and Cloud/Squall I can at least throw Kingdom Hearts in as a big reason but ???????? Squall/Yuna???? it's so good??? it makes me happy and giggly to see it??????

[shockwavepulsar]

Independent Selphie Tilmitt roleplay blog! Sideblog to shockwavepulsar

[shockwavepulsar]

❛  just let me sleep for five more minutes.  ❜ -corditeheart

"You said that five minutes ago," she states, full-volume. She'd offered what grace she had the first two times she's attempted to rouse Xu, but makes no attempt to hide her exasperation. Grasping the duvet, Quistis yanks the heavy material, and top sheet along with it, from the woman's half-sleeping form. "Up! You're the one who made these plans. I don't care either way if we miss it, but I know I won't hear the end of it later when you've had your coffee."

[shockwavepulsar]

❛  if you've got a problem with the way i handle things, just say so.  ❜ -reveromantique

Instead of taking the bait, Quistis offers him a smile and tilts her head, her eyes squinting with indignation. She's not going to say a damned thing to him and she's going to watch him try and figure it out. He'll act as if he doesn't care, but she knows that the thought will weasel its way into the back of his mind whether he wants it to or not. She tuts, chuckling to herself as she plays the fool, feigning obliviousness. "I think we can wrap things up here for the day." Grabbing her duffel bag full of equipment, she swings it over her shoulder and adjusts her posture to counteract the weight of it. "Get some rest, Seifer. We'll resume training in the morning."

[shockwavepulsar]

Quistis shrugs at his counter. He's likely being contrarian just to get on her nerves, but she's not giving him the satisfaction. She plunges her gloved fingers into a clean patch of snow and rubs her hands in it, as if it would somehow rid her of the blood. It works, mostly. She then wipes her hands on the back of her skirt and inspects them before shoving them into the pockets of her jacket, beginning to trail after him. She'd be lying if she didn't say she was looking forward to a rest, but they've had good momentum and she isn't quite frozen, yet. How he was fairing in such a cold climate was beyond her. Perhaps it's his magical inclination that gives him some sort of resistance to it. In the few times she's gotten close enough for a long enough time, she's noticed the feverish nature of his skin. At first, she drummed it up to typical overheating during training, but it clearly isn't only his stubborn determination and willpower that keeps him going. Even if he's being a complete jackass, she's thankful he at least doubles as a heater. "One more for the road couldn't hurt," she says casually, letting the words roll off her shoulders as if she hasn't spent the past half of a day slaying beasts in a combination of two-foot deep freshly fallen powder and packed-in ice. Her muscles are screaming and she's counting the moments until she gets to peel out of her half-soaked clothes and dip herself into one of the hot spring baths in the town near their camp. The thought pushes a dreamy sigh from her lips and gives her an extra boost of energy. She picks up the pace. "Come on, let's get this done before sundown. I'm not walking all the way back in the dark," she commands, looking at the trees ahead of them, examining them for signs of more monsters. Something rustles in the foliage up ahead.

If she wants to dig around in a dead behemoth's guts, who's he to stop her?

Seifer snatches the stone out of the air, tosses it up high enough that it flips a couple times before it hits his palm again, and tucks it into his pocket without bothering to examine it. Useful, yeah. Terribly necessary? Not really.

"I think red's more my color," he counters, Hyperion resting across his shoulders, a stance that allows him to fall right back into the fray if there's another one of these bastards lurking in the trees around them.

The Grandidi Forest, at least, isn't Balamb; there's the possibility of something interesting happening.

(Even if the "something interesting" happens to be making the split-second decision as to whether or not to let a monster just eat Trepe and save him the trouble of listening to her talk.

You can take the instructor's license away from a person, but good luck taking the instructor out of them. And he's sat through enough of her lectures for a dozen lifetimes.

Sometimes, he thinks it might have been easier if they'd just sent him to Deling, instead of letting him out of Balamb's brig in the wake of his trial, back into the fold like he had never left.)

His boots sink into the crust of snow on the ground, another reminder that they're not in Balamb anymore, and Seifer moves away from the corpse without bothering to see if she's following.

"That's what? Nine?" Not that he'd paid much attention to what the mission brief had said as far as quota. It's not like he's making any money off of this.

"You wanna round it out to ten, or do you need to go back to camp and rest?"

The implication, of course, is that if she can't keep up, that's her problem.

[shockwavepulsar]

❛ if you've got a problem with the way I handle things, just say so. ❜ bluntly, probably after finishing a mission

Quistis panted, wiping the sweat off of her forehead and hastily pushing soaked strands of hair behind her ear, waiting for the electrifying sensation of adrenaline to fade and allow her heartbeat to settle. She stretched her arms in front of her, furrowing her brow at his retort, and making quick work of coiling her whip to set it at her side. She really wasn't going to say anything, wanted to practice holding her tongue, but she was seemingly unaware of how expressive she was. Perhaps her eyes had said it all. Part of her was impressed with Cloud's observational skills, something she had hoped he would employ more of in the previous battle. The other part was irritated at his smart ass attitude. What was it with blonde men? "Alright then, for starters, you tend to rush in recklessly, hacking and slashing, without having a plan in mind. It's sloppy at best, dangerous at worst. You're relying too much on people to heal you if you slip up, and we wouldn't have to do that if you'd just think first." She turned away from him, beginning to walk away while rolling her arm as she pressed into the tender muscles of her shoulder. "Second, you're leaning too far forward with your torso which puts more strain on your lower back when you recoil. You're going to end up slipping a disc if you don't fix your posture."

[shockwavepulsar]

🐝  *  ―  𝑹𝑨𝑵𝑫𝑶𝑴 𝑫𝑰𝑨𝑳𝑶𝑮𝑼𝑬 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺 𝑷𝑻. 𝑰.

❛  it was wrong of me to assume you're ever gonna change.  ❜ ❛  that's it? it was all just a lie?  ❜ ❛  shame on me for thinking you were a good person.  ❜ ❛  you're gonna pay for what you did to me.  ❜ ❛  you didn't hear a word of what i just said, did you?  ❜ ❛  believe me, you weren't my first choice either.  ❜ ❛  if you've got a problem with the way i handle things, just say so.  ❜ ❛  do you think we're gonna survive this?  ❜ ❛  what's your problem?!  ❜ ❛  will you please slow down a little?  ❜ ❛  i can't believe you would do something like that.  ❜ ❛  did it mean anything to you?  ❜ ❛  i'm never gonna be good enough for you.  ❜ ❛  we were just fooling ourselves this whole time.  ❜ ❛  i'm sorry, i didn't know where else to go.  ❜ ❛  i don't want to argue with you anymore.  ❜ ❛  fine. you were right, and i was wrong. happy now?  ❜ ❛  this day feels like it's never gonna end.  ❜ ❛  i didn't think you'd care so much.  ❜ ❛  this must be like the first time you were nice to me.  ❜ ❛  out of all the people here, why do i have to be stuck with you?  ❜ ❛  do you want to go on a date with me?  ❜ ❛  honestly, i don't think i wanna leave the house today.  ❜ ❛  were you ever planning on telling me about all of this?  ❜ ❛  i wish i had another choice.  ❜ ❛  don't flatter yourself, a fifth-grader could've done this as well.  ❜ ❛  you're the most insufferable person i have ever met.  ❜ ❛  here, you look like you need this more than me right now.  ❜ ❛  oh, just so you know, i don't ever lose this game.  ❜ ❛  just let me sleep for five more minutes.  ❜ ❛  alright, is there anything else we have to do before they arrive?  ❜ ❛  do you believe in ghosts?  ❜ ❛  i wish we had more time together.  ❜ ❛  you don't have to leave just yet ... you could stay the night if you wanted to.  ❜ ❛  where are you taking me?  ❜ ❛  trust me, this is the last thing i want to do.  ❜ ❛  i need more time to think about what i want.  ❜ ❛  why didn't you say anything earlier? we could've avoided this whole mess.  ❜ ❛  i don't feel so good, i think i may be getting sick.  ❜ ❛  help me! please!  ❜

[shockwavepulsar]

@reveromantique It's a valid question, he supposes. Rhetorical, more than likely; he treats it as such, looking down at the flat of Hyperion's blade, and reaching with one gloved hand to flick away a substantial chunk of monster gore. It sends up another spray of blood, most of it splattering across her skirt. Whoops. He'd pretend to be sorry, if it were worth the effort. Fortunately, it isn't, and the way he looks her up and down isn't in the least apologetic. "You know, most people would just say thank you, Trepe."

It's not the first time she's been splashed with the liquid remains of monster viscera, but there's a part of her that suspects the trajectory of the spray was intentional. The other part rationalizes that although he is skilled, he's not that skilled. Either way, she chooses not to react to it, it's not that difficult to remove blood from clothing. She's been doing it regularly since her early teens, after all. She rolls her tongue against the roof of her mouth, willing the words she wishes to say in response to his poor attitude to dissipate, instead offering an almost-genuine, "you're right; thank you," as she makes her approach. Sometimes it's easier to just say what he wants to hear even if they both know she doesn't mean it. Her boot pushes into the flesh of the monster, peeling back a layer of muscle tissue and she quickly leans down to pluck something shiny from within it. She turns it over in her hand, would have thought of just pocketing it had she been in the company of anyone else. Instead, she rolls it between her fingers and raises it to show him. It's a Wizard Stone. Neither of them really need it, but she rationalizes that of the two, he would need it more than she. Or maybe she just likes the idea of getting under his skin by gifting it to him. He was the one who felled the creature after all, so she has no claim to any of its loot to begin with. She closes her fist around the stone and makes a motion to signify her intent to toss it to him, then does so. "Blue suits you better."

[shockwavepulsar]

@grievehart The steady hum and gentle occasional rocking of the train would have been relaxing in another scenario, perhaps, but the way Quistis struggled to flip through the pages of a magazine she wasn't even truly reading was a subtle sign of the nervous energy she attempted to mask, easily missed if one wasn't entirely observant of her behavior. She was no stranger to the concept of mediation, often having been the one tasked to look after the more troublesome students in her past, but she never felt she had been particularly skilled at it. Time and time again, she proved that her efforts to communicate were destined to fall short. She had the intellect, the charm, the observational skills, the grace expected of a diplomat, and yet the pieces never quite fit together. The task of returning to Timber as a representative of Balamb Garden wasn't at all the type of mission she was expecting to be recruited for, but a part of her felt a swell of confidence at having been chosen above all others, people who she felt would be much more qualified, much more successful than she. Xu, maybe. Nida, even. But with that confidence came the nagging thought buzzing around in the back of her skull that told her that if this fails, it's on her. Squall. Everything seemed to come naturally to him. She knew how irritated he could get when reminded of how unintentionally successful he was at most things, and how people seemed content to take a mile for every inch he gave. The expectations of him, the pressure he must have felt, the pressure he likely feels now. Knowing this of him brought a small amount of comfort to her system, dulling the racing of her heart as she willed away her thoughts of what-ifs and why-mes. Not that she wanted to see him feel uncomfortable, of course, but the thought that she might not be the only one nervous about this—even if she was projecting those feelings onto him—is ultimately what steadied her hands. Quistis closed the magazine and set it between them on the cushioned seat of the Timber-bound train and pushed it towards him, a silent offering. Although she hadn't read it, what she could glean from the pictures in it were idealistic designs of future travel. Skyferries, or something like that. Although air travel made sense as the next step in worldwide tech since the radio industry was flourishing once more, she couldn't imagine it would happen any time soon. The world was still in need of improving what it already had, many countries still in debt as a result of the damages during the war so many years ago. The Dollet Dukedom a prime example. A slight buzzing sound, quiet and barely noticeable, came from the speaker against the wall of the train compartment. Immediately following it came a four-note jingle in indication of an announcement. A deep voice cut through the static. ["Attention passengers. We will be arriving in Timber in approximately one hour. I repeat. We will be arriving in Timber in approximately one hour. Thank you." ] The static remained for a moment before a dull thump sounded, followed by silence. Qusitis rested her head against the seat, frowned at the feeling of her hair clip pushing into the base of her skull, and sat back up straight again. Truly, no comfort would come to her this day. Figures. "The Timber Parliament will be meeting with us at the Tomra Convention Center at 1600 hours, meaning we will have—" She paused, hooking a finger into the cuff of her SeeD uniform to peek at her watch. "Two hours to kill before then." Enough time to walk around, maybe get a bite to eat, do something to get her thoughts in order. "Could have a drink at one of the pubs near the station, take the edge off?" It was said in jest. Mostly. The last thing she needed was to be inebriated during a conference about the SeeD's continued involvement in a still-unliberated city, although she wouldn't be surprised if that was exactly what she needed to calm her nerves enough to fulfill her duties assisting the Commander of Balamb Garden. "I'm definitely going to need one afterwards, though."

[shockwavepulsar]

Doomed by the narrative but not because of the story itself, doomed by the narrative because it isn’t about you, doomed to obscurity, doomed because the narrative forgot you and you’re doomed to burn your hands on the spotlight as you try to drag it onto yourself

[shockwavepulsar]

Deborah Ann Woll for Vulture (2018)

[shockwavepulsar]

@corditeheart She has a lot of things to say, most of them deeply unpleasant, but Xu reins it all in, picking up her coffee again, taking a sip of the bitter, over-roasted brew, and pretending she doesn't want to hurl the whole thing at the wall instead. Or at Squall's stupid, fluffy-haired head. "What's the point? Leonhart's made his decision." It's a dumbass decision, and she's going to be pissed about it for days, but he outranks her. Unfortunately.

Quistis brushes her fingers against the tag dangling over the side of her cup that says 'steep for 3 to 5 minutes for best results' and twirls the small string around the tip of her index finger before lifting the cup to her lips. She expects some steam, but is disappointed at the weak billowing of warmth which barely shifts the coolness of the air around her. At least it won't burn her mouth when she drinks it. "Sure, he's made his decision, but keeping your thoughts bottled inside isn't going to help any, either." She settles the cup against her lap, looking into the swirling amber-colored liquid, steadily dyed a deeper red-violet. "No one wants to deal with Mayor Dobe, I get it, but if you can convince him to allow us to employ some of his engineers, I have no doubt the promotion he's been dangling in front of you will be yours." She chances a sip. It's fine, really. Not as bad as she was expecting. "Tell me what you need and I'll talk to him. It...may not change his mind completely, but I can at least recommend an alternative. Someone with more diplomacy skills? No offense."