Damien:
A few drinks throughout the afternoon, and an entire pack of cigarettes, Damien was feeling much better as he bounced down the hallway back to his mothers hidden room. Pausing at the doorway he glanced back down the hall to make sure no one was paying attention to him before he slid back inside. "I'm back, mother!" he called, his voice excited and announcing, however still a whisper. Sliding to the edge of the bed he smiled as he looked down at her, reaching forward to push her hair away from her face. "We don't have to worry about Vere anymore," he informed her, as if she was awake and talking to him, "We just gotta get father, now, and we can be a family!" Taking hold of the side of the bed, he climbed in and kissed her cheek, "That's what you want, isn't it?" After snuggling back down into her embrace he smiled as he closed his eyes. "Yeah, I know it is," he whispered before he would start to nod off as well.

Kuja:
After a little while Kuja appeared seated in a chair against the far wall, one leg crossed over the other, resting his head against a fist, his other arm falling straight over the arm rest, a nearly empty bottle of brandy held loosely, almost swinging between uncaring fingers. His expression was very un-amused, very unimpressed as he watched Damien and Desora sleeping so together, but he did wonder. The life they all might have had, and could still possibly, the life of just Desora and Damien, the life of just himself and Desora, and the life that had been with just Damien, himself and Vere. But rationality was not often his forte, and so he remained seated in contempt at the site and would introduce his presence, since he knew the boy wasn’t completely asleep yet. “My little boy, don’t you think it’s time you stopped clinging to your mother so? Because it’s not about what she wants, it’s about what I want. Or with your childish body, has all childish fantasies come with it?”

( Damien & Kuja )

Damien:
The boys eyelids fluttered open and he smiled as he was met with his mothers face. Nothing could have made his morning brighter, that is, assuming it was morning. Without moving, he glanced around the room, and with no light emitting from anywhere, but the room still lit from what he assumed was his fathers power, he had no idea if it was night or day. But, whatever it was, he was awake now, and had things he wanted to do. "I'll be back, mother," he whispered before kissing his mothers cheek and let go of the necklace he was still clutching before sliding out from her embrace. The moment he sat up he felt sick and his head pounded and felt fuzzy. He wanted more than anything to turn back the time and not be drunk when he changed himself, but that was impossible as he had no powers anymore. So, there he sat, on the edge of the bed, until he could settle his stomach enough to stand and slip unnoticed out of the room, just as he had entered. He walked slowly, wishing to stay as still as possible, but also to return to his room, and his boots echoed off the empty hallway walls. His clothing, he had altered when he had altered himself, but his necklace hung nearly to his waist and bounced back and forth as he moved before he would reach up and take hold of it to stop it. He was focused mostly on not getting sick until he noticed that his footsteps weren't the only set he heard, and he stopped just beside his door and looked up to be met with the sight of Vere, presently turning the corner. His eyes narrowed as he glared at him, wishing to pour out his heart and let the other know exactly how he felt towards him now, but at the same, wanting to run to him and throw his arms around him. Though, the night before he had quite a speech prepared, now that he was actually met with the situation, he simply wanted to turn and run. Without so much as a word, he simply opened his door and entered his room, closing it behind him. 'Maybe Vere will just keep going,' he told himself as he slid to his night stand and picked up his cigarettes. He crawled up onto his bed and sit there, his legs dangling over the edge, as he lit his cigarette and turned his attention out the window.

Vere:
Vere wandered up the hall quite disturbed by the current turn of events. His heart ached but he was getting back to his feet and had decided to have a walk around the castle to see who was still around. He turned the corner to see a small child, then rubbed his eyes as he watched the child move into Damien’s room, the big necklace dangling around his neck. “Damien?” he said puzzled. Vere tapped gently on the door, waiting a moment before he pushed it open and peered through to see the small boy dangling his feet over the bed. “Damien? What’s happened?” Vere said puzzled. “Why in God’s name are you a child again? Why would he do that to you?”

( Damien & Vere )

Siren:
Siren had left the castle feeling upset about the last meeting ,his meeting with Damien, he didn't mean to frighten him, and he'd left Dru all of the sudden, he groaned , if he kept on interacting with the others, well he figured no one would want him around, he snorted , the thought actually making him want to laugh, "like anyone wants me around anyways" he muttered stepping forward and cursing as he found himself in waist high water, the bottom of his robe now soaked " I can fix that" he said to no one in particular nodding and pulling himself from the creek, he plopped down on the sand and ran his hand over the darkened fabric that clung to his skin drying it immediately, things could be worse, he could be in hell, he tried hard to cheer himself up, failing miserably as he noticed he was in the same spot he'd first met the amethyst eyed boy, who he'd left only hours ago, it was pretty though, he placed his hands behind his head and fell back, staring up at the sky through slender branches and patches of green a small breeze giving life to nature , the patches of leaves brushed against each other whispering lullabies.

Kuja:
Kuja could not help Vere’s sorrow, not in ways that the other would consent to, and so when the other had fallen asleep he sent him back the castle, adding to the list of those slumbering in misery thanks to him. He did not feel like returning to the castle, and he could not handle Damien’s eyes chancing upon him or being anywhere near him at this point. A ridiculous notion, being avoidant in his own corridors. Oh well. Nothing was going his way these days, not while his conscience rang so prominent. Summoning a bottle of brandy to his hand he drank to himself, but even brandy did not taste so sweet as it once did before. Some time rolled passed before he picked up on a nearby presence, quite far, but he had become quite familiar with the demons aura to feel drawn to it, to be aware of it. He appeared soundlessly and leant against a tree, simply watching the other, pondering, contemplating Siren’s existence and his role around them. When the wind threw a stronger caress over the leaves he began to walk forward, and even though he hoped not to scare the other away, a light smirk was spread across his thin lips. “You are a nostalgic person then, Siren? I wouldn’t have thought a creature like you would have many memories to look pleasantly back upon. But I suppose any memory between you and my son is a brighter one?” He spoke gently before adding debasingly, coming to stop by the other “How sad.”

( Siren & Kuja )

[to be continued]

I've been wanting to make this for ages and i've finally found time. I can't believe my life's that busy =/

I wanted to make and finish this today so i didn't end up getting all the scenes i wanted. And annoyingly most of the in-game FFIX scenes glitched horribly so i could only use tiny segments. I really wanted Kuja kicking Garland off the cliff! Rarar!

I thought this song represents Kuja's soul ambition, to be seen, to prove that he is so much more than what his upbringing has told him and Things. The Clowns, there's no discrimination, everyone's a clown, cause everyone's a stupid fool (you're not special Kefka). F-friends? Don't make me sick into my own scorn.

But it's still not THE song i want for Kuja. When i find that song i'll be sure to use every clip of him i want!

Kuja:
He was losing again. One of those few though forever haunting, painful, devastating, scaring and unbearable moments. Desora and Nicki had both killed themselves to leave him, the horrible night Balthameul walked out of his life before finding his eternal rest, and now he was losing Vere to the exact same effect. It was supposed to be one night of love, one night of just the world being Vere and himself, but he couldn’t help waking up in the middle of the night and staring at the others beautiful sleeping face, crying silently to himself with his hands over his lips. He wanted the other to be awake, but at the same time feared it for he had nothing to console him with, no words to make everything right, better, nothing at all to help Vere, and surely as soon as the other was conscious, Vere would only wish for the grave once more. Kuja didn’t want to give up, there was always a way, but since taking Vere’s memories away didn’t work, he couldn’t think of anything else he could do. When his eyes were dry and the morning had come, he would gently brush his fingers against the others cheek.

Vere:
Vere’s eyes slowly fluttered open to the brush against his cheek, and he smiled a sad smile as he looked up to Kuja. “You’ve been crying” said Vere, lifting a hand up to hold Kuja’s. “This night wasn’t supposed to be sad, except for that it is only one night.” Vere pulled Kuja down next to him so that the other’s head rested on Vere’s shoulder. “What happens in the morning? Do you simply go back to hating me for all my shortcomings, or will you just make me sleep forever? That’s why you’re crying, isn’t it? You’re going to send me to sleep forever?” Vere asked as he gently kissed Kuja’s forehead. “Don’t feel bad, it’s for the best” he added, sadly, with another meek smile. “You’ll be happier, Kuja. Much better off.”

( Vere & Kuja )

Kuja:
In the darkness behind the thrones a large and high doorway appeared though without evidence of a door, or a slab. It appeared in silence, in the darkness, and was for one to find the marble steps that stretched on and on, though light was eventually at the end. One would find that the light was omitted and glowed from the floor, the giant portrait of Kuja as he was dressed now in white with all his godly arrogance. Beyond the floor, a large square shape, it dropped into endless darkness, as darkness reigned above as well. Kuja hovered high in the air, one knee higher than the other as he rested his chin on a fist, in wait. Far to his sides two others were strung up, crucified in white glowing chains, their heads sunk and bodies tortured. Vere was shirtless, cuts all over him, old and new, some still bleeding. Desora’s white dress soaked in red, torn at the edges, revealing one thigh and glass shards were imbedded all over her body. “Life has never been more wonderful for me, Damien.” Kuja spoke gently when Damien finally appeared. “When you have so much control it does not matter how much one hates you, rejects you, is hurt by you, would rather die than be with you, and yet they can’t do anything about it. That is true power. That is true comfort, and the only comfort I have ever reached and strived for.” His hands slowly with serpent grace danced beside him as he continued to hover. He spoke seriously, calmly, as if he were telling someone the meaning to life, at least the meaning of his own existence. “There is just one thing stopping me from complete comfort, my complete happiness, which I’m sure you already know is your existence. But I have decided to be lenient, for all the suffering and how cruel your life has been, since of course, none of it is your own fault. And it goes like this…” Vere stirred a little and Desora whispered stop. “Pull out your own eyes before us and I’ll let Vere go to hell with you.” He laughed at his own cruelty, his joke.

Damien:
Damien's eyes opened and he peered out around the room. He had fallen asleep curled up in his fathers throne, and was somewhat, no, greatly annoyed that he was still trapped in the giant hall. He figured by now his father would have at least moved him somewhere else. Frustrated, he rose from the throne and lit a cigarette before pacing back and forth before the thrones while frowning at his and Vere's blood still covering the floor. "Why won't you let me go?" he asked as he paced, "You just going to keep me locked up in here forever? I'll just call Siren! He'll get me out! If he..." His eye caught on something behind the thrones and he moved to expect the doorway with a frown. It made him wonder how long it had been there without him knowing. Pulling his lighter out, he flicked it open before stepping inside, closing it once he came upon the end and the bright light and he rolled his eyes at Kuja's painting before looking around. He was absolutely horrified by the sights, his mother, Vere, and even by his father. "How could you do this?!" he demanded angrily, throwing his lighter, as it was all he had, up at the other in hopes of clocking him in the head. As Kuja continued to speak, he peered over the edge at the darkness that seemed to go on forever before moving to the center of the floor directly beneath Kuja. Slowly he let his eyes meet his father, an angry stare to meet that smug face, "Pull out my eyes? And I'm supposed to think that will make you stop!? Let them go! Destroy me if you wish, I won't stop you, but let them go!"

( Damien & Kuja )

Damien:
Every so often, Damien would become conscious again. Only to stare down at the blood pooled on the floor below him and watch a drop or two drip down to join it before slipping off again. Not that he really cared. There was nothing he wished to think about, and the only thing to look at were the thrones that he had come, so quickly, to hate with all his being. This was one of those times, however, where he stayed conscious for more than a minute and his mind wandered to all sorts of things, the most dominate thought being, 'how long would his father leave his this way?' He suspected a few days, maybe a week, and then surely he'd return, if only to taunt him. A whimper escaped his throat and his fingers extended before curling into his palms, trying to deal with the pain of the spikes digging deeply into his wrists. On a positive side, however, the wound in his stomach wasn't hurting as badly as it did the day before. If it had been a day already. Time seemed to stand still in his own little personal hell. But, he supposed the loss of pain in his stomach was due to the never subsiding, deeper pain in his wrists from which he was hung.

Siren:
Siren pulled himself from the dark shadow that formed to make way his path, entering this large hall that seemed so unfamiliar to him, he took his time glancing around before he noticed the boy hanging by his limbs in the air, and his mind returned to hell, images flooding back of Lucifer's torture "if he likes it this much " he muttered stepping forward "he should just go to hell" angry that he would do this much damage to his own flesh and blood, and boy was there alot of it on the floor, he knelt to the floor to dab his finger in the thick crimson, drawing an ancient symbol on the floor below , cursing the shackles that held him captive, he then proceeded to pull a clear vile from his garments and dropped it on the floor , the shackles fading away in a cloud of smoke, "I gotta say, I'm quite confused but you can catch me up later" he finished catching the boy in his arms and holding him up, "I can feel the power limiter, but your immortal so I'm not really worried about you dying, however you've lost much blood and your wounds are in deed horrid" he placed the other on the floor tearing at the bottom of his robe and wrapping the wounds that flowed so freely "let's get you somewhere safe, k?" he asked basically trying to decipher if Damien could walk or not.

( Siren, Drucilla, Damien, Kuja )

Vere:
Vere grunted heavily as he was pulled to the ground, letting out more noise as Kuja stepped down on him. He struggled against the chains for a moment before crooking his head to try and see what was happening to Damien. Vere decided that Kuja’s words about Desora meant that he had done little to her, but the fact they had been gone so long worried him. Suddenly, as the sound of chains pulling fast filled the room, he saw Damien pulled, quickly towards the centre of the room and then up, out of sight. His head rushed as he was teleported and he wondered what would happen next.

Kuja:
A room void of furniture save the two seats and a large rug that covered nearly the whole wooden floor, royal purple and gold walls and no doors. Vere would be fastened down and strapped into his solid seat with metal and leather around every limb keeping him secure, his legs slightly spread, arms upon the rests, and neck strapped as well. Shirtless though his pants remained and all blood from previously removed to start with a clean slate as Kuja sat back in his own more normal decorative and cushioned chair, opposite Vere, holding a rested crop over his crossed legs, still in all his complimenting and shimmering accessories. “So tell me, Vere. Why did you do it?” He asked patiently.

( Vere & Kuja )

Kuja:
Kuja returned to the hall, standing before the site of the two curled up in blood and sleep. He pondered upon the site for a moment before stepping around to his own throne while new chains were spawned, the ones attached to Damien’s cuffs snaking into the deeper darkness of the hall, while a collar appeared around Vere’s neck. As Kuja half lay in his throne, his feet dangling over the arm rest with his back somewhere in the opposite corner, he pulled on a chain that brought taught Vere’s restraints, his wrists locked to his collar and forced to his knees and elbows, though still a little distance from Kuja himself. “Resting time is over. Have you said your fair wells?”

Vere:
Vere’s eyes shot open as the collar appeared, his hands shooting up to his neck to pull it away as they were suddenly locked to the collar. A chain pulled him closer, leaving some splotches of blood as he was forced to his knees and elbows, looking up with a crooked neck to see Kuja lounged in the throne. He gritted his teeth as all the anger of what had happened recently filled him. “The only thing fair in this room is the revenge I had on you” he snarled, “and even that was too short lived. Shouldn’t you be spending the night with your wife, or after my conjugal visit, have you decided you only like to receive, instead of give?”

Damien:
As Vere was pulled away from him, he slowly opened his eyes and peered through the tiny slits. Though hazy, he had a fair understanding of what was going on, and it didn't take long for his eyes to open completely. With a great amount of effort and pain he got to his feet and threading the chain through his fingers, pulled against it. He didn't want to be separated from Vere. It wasn't as if he could actually help him, no, Kuja was more powerful than them both, but still, he wanted the other near. Angrily he glared up at Kuja, saying nothing as it wouldn't have mattered anyway. Not to mention the fact that Vere seemed to be taunting Kuja enough for the both of them. But when the other was finished, he would add one thing, "Where is my mother?"

( Damien, Vere, Kuja )

Desora:
Her distant past seemed to have played from beginning to end within the confinements of her dreams. The people she had met, the people she had grown to love, the person that had defiled her, the people she had formed a home with, all of them steering up emotions deep within her heart. Desora seemed to be trapped in the world between reality and the acceptance of reality, the body of flesh that had return to her-the one that slept, ate, breath, felt- all seemed surreal after a long time of spiritual confinements where even sleeping and eating had been left in the realm of life. She remembered moments very vividly, her meeting with Alexey, her beloved friend and traveling companion. Her beloved brother Xin, and the beautiful silver necklace that represented the union and trust between them. Destructo, to whom her innocence she lost. Scorpio, to whom she owned for helping Kuja in her rescue. Drucilla and Bal, her beloved troop and trusted friends that lit up life. Damien, her beloved son and ultimate proof of love, to whom she loved and cherished even if their time spent in flesh had been limited. Finally, the most vivid memory of them all, the memory of Kuja, her husband and one true love, the painful moments, the beautiful moments, the happy moments, all of them flooded deep within her mind. She felt it all, the warmth of his lips on her cheek, the warmth of his kiss on her forehead and the warm and familiar embrace, but still it all seemed to be so surreal and a mere extension of the vivid dreams she was currently having. How many hours had passed before she finally grasped the concept of “dreaming” and reality? She was not sure but suddenly she felt it all, the real warmth and the real tactile embrace. Her eyes opened to this sudden grasp of reality and a gasp escaped her lips. It all came back to her -her rebirth, her meeting with her beloved son, her slumber-. Tears quietly began to break out from her eyes as she knew who was embracing her for she could never forget those loving arms. “Kuja” his name came out from her lips in a gentle whisper. Desora could tell he was sleeping, but her heart was palpitating fast from joy she could not hold it in so she abruptly turned around and wrapped her arms around him tightly. “Kuja, Kuja, Kuja, Kuja” his name was repeated over and over again swallowed in her tears of shock, of happiness, of love. When she had turned around, the key she had not noticed was in her hands, had tangled itself on sheets as it fell to the side of the bed, its contact with the floor bellow had been silent.

( Desora, Damien, Vere, Kuja )

[Inspired from, composed of The Great Gatsby. Perhaps my third favourite book. I don't do it any justice at all and it's only some themes from the book]

The sound of cutlery and plates, of wooden chairs scraping over the wooden floor, tea and coffee cups over the long span of time almost incessantly sounded like the birds that chirped in the early hours of the morning while servers moved with haste compared to the languid customers, the sound of a tinging bell ringing over the steam maker and kitchen in the background all came together and composed the distinct atmosphere of a café. But more so to one man’s ears, who sat quietly to himself leaning relaxed back in his chair with an open book in one hand while the other rested around a glass of brandy on the little oval table, the sound of conversation streamed through his mind, filtering things of interest, was brought for neither tea or cakes or company of his own, but for the sound of something on a much more grander and great scale.

( Read more... )

Kuja didn’t want to open his eyes, he didn’t want to be conscious, however something seemed different and lured him away from the longing perpetual darkness. A soft fragrance permeating, he knew exactly what the sweet smell reminded him of and when he opened his eyes he became lost on the grasp of dreams and his reality. So beautiful, every line and contour that composed her flawless features to every exact and minute detail of how he remembered her, the beautiful person she was through and through where no woman, man or god alike could ever compare to the respect and love he felt for her. He didn’t realise he was crying until a sob escaped him and he covered his own mouth, dreading disturbing her, his breath alone tainting her. He heard her voice in his mind, calling his name fondly at the same time as chiding him and it made him smile, more tears brimming over the sides. Her smile, her blushes when they held each other’s hands, kissed each other’s cheeks, the happy times, and looking back, so few precious moments they were compared to the life without her he had been violating and abusing ever since and over her absence. With Desora’s absence, the happiness she brought that reflected into the faces of those around her, friends and family and even strangers and enemies, left his world so cold and he made it even more so for everyone, all traces of light gone and made sure of being extinguished. How he hated being left alone, his heart unlocked and left open while the only thing of purity, of light, innocence, love and care for all things great and small (and didn’t his jealousy know it), was snuffed out from this world by his own cruel hands.

He couldn’t ask for her forgiveness, but how sorry he felt, how remorseful he was for all the wrong he had done to her, all the pain he had given her, while knowing her spirit shed tears as he pulled their friends, and their son apart one by one. He knew he was a monster, but seeing her now, putting himself into perspective, made him hate himself even more and all his actions and resentment as folly and sheer weakness.

As his self-loathing slowly dimmed down, permitting himself to continue to live and breathe in her presence, his mind became more resolute as his hand reached out to brush softly against her cheek, tentative at first before smooth and adoring and he could not hold himself back any longer as his lips pressed against her soft, beautiful and warm familiar cheek.

Nothing mattered anymore, except the annoying handcuffs, as he gently moved his arms around her and forced her to lie snuggled into himself. He kissed her forehead before wrapping his arms around her tighter, embracing her in a possessive hug and hold as they lay on their sides, clasping her hands securely in his own, held at her warm breast. He was shirtless with black pants beneath the sheets and his skin was flawless save for one big bruise on his side. A moment ago he wanted to thank all those who made this possible, as he imagined, though it was hard to believe Vere and or Damien placing him here in their mercy, and before that he dreaded them letting him ruin her, but now that he was here, now that she was here, he would never let her leave, he would never let her go, despite anyone else’s, or even her own tears. He just needed his powers… certain that it was not the same mistake as the last.

He shivered, trembling lightly. So many thoughts, so many transitions throughout her absence, his feelings changing, growing colder, and even for a time believing he resented and blamed her for every ounce of misery since the very first day she entered his life. But he loved her so much. He held on to her tighter, as if trying to hold on to all his fleeting, fluctuating wholesomeness, as she had become so strongly attached to the notion, symbolic, as he loved Desora, his wife, and as he loved innocence and goodness in life and the world. Torn, completely torn, Kuja had given up and lost hope in himself a very long time ago, and though it was selfish and unfair of him, he whispered, “Please finish me. Please save yourself and the others from me… Please be happy.” And before his endless thoughts could drive him mad, as he was becoming accustomed to forcing himself, he closed his mind down and slept.

Kuja:
He heard Damien’s words but they meant nothing to him, and he didn’t want to hear it, anything, and after a while of feeling the boy’s eyes on him he moved away. He turned out of his seat the direction away from Damien, not even wanting to catch a glimpse of his presence, before making his way to the bed, and even ignoring the left open door. Sliding himself into the bed he drew the covers up and lay on his side, his eyes closed as his body sighed before being still in emptiness.

Damien:
Damien frowned at Kuja's actions. Would his fathers hatred for him never be appeased? Would it really last forever, no matter what he did? Shaking his head in disbelief, he followed Kuja to his bed, climbing in behind him. "Do I bore you, father?" he asked with a smile before producing a fake yawn, "I bore myself as well. Maybe we should change the subject, hm?" Snuggling in close to his fathers back, he draped his arm over him. He missed Kuja's livelihood, even if it did usually result in his own misfortune. Of course, he had nothing to be afraid of now. But, his sudden acquisition of courage didn't encourage him to pursue teasing his father. It was the look in Kuja's eyes. The sad, tired look of defeat every time he saw him. The same look he himself would wear if he could simply let go of his hope for a family he would never have. It made his heart ache. "Well, there are only three things we hold in common," he continued, "One I have no desire to talk about. One I already know everything about. And so, that leaves us with one option, Desora. You never tell me anything about her, and I have so many questions."

( Damien, Vere, Kuja )

[My baby wrote this for me last night =) I'm not sure it'll still be used after next rp so i'm posting it now]

Vere flinched as the lock quietly clicked open, revealing Kuja’s room to him. The mage slept soundly in the bed and Vere intended not to wake him from his slumber, knowing he had a lot to do in the coming days. He stood over Kuja, watching the beautiful creature sleep and getting lost in his form. Vere stared, bewildered for quite some time.

How could such a beautiful creature be so dark inside, he wondered? Then he remembered something Kuja had said to him. The other had implied that he knew how Vere felt and Vered wondered whether his actions were the first steps towards becoming like Kuja.

Was this how the other had begun? He knew Kuja hated being picked on, and it led him to seek power so that it wouldn’t happen any longer.

Vere looked into the bed, into a reflection of what he might one day be…