Mini NaNo Day 2
Nov. 2nd, 2008 01:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tsukinofaeriiOkay, so I forgot to post this on time. LJ allows us to re-write history, yay! So I am speaking to you from the PAST. Booga booga. Anyways, Mini NaNo, day two. 539 words of Final Fantasy XII. (Yes, I'm pitiful. Hush.)
WARNING. THERE ARE MEN AND WOMEN DOING PLATONIC, NON-CONSENSUAL, NON-EXPLICIT THINGS IN THIS. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. /goofball
The cells were neither cold nor warm, but that strange in-between temperature that can only be described as what it is not. But other than that small comfort, it was pretty much like any other cell Penelo had ever been in. Dark and tiny, with the endless sound of water dripping somewhere down the hall.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
"Knock it off Vaan!" she finally snapped, stretching out a leg to thump the thick stone wall between their cells. It didn't move at all, but it made her feel better. The jingle of the manacle around her ankle worked the exact opposite. "This is bad enough without you playing in the water!"
Leather scraped against rock somewhere in the unit next to her as Vaan fidgeted like a cranky toddler. They'd been there for a few hours, so he might have been bored. Heavens and Penelo both knew that Vaan's attention span was directly related to how much something glimmered. "I was just adding to the mood. What kind of dungeon doesn't have dripping water?"
"The kind that's a holding cell, not a dungeon." She kicked the wall again, getting some small satisfaction out of the thud of her boot heel against it. "They're probably going to ship us off tomorrow, or it would be a dungeon."
"Well, excuse me." In the near pitch of the cells, she could easily picture the way Vaan would be rolling his eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't stop to think what kind of holding cell we were tossed into when our friend had us arrested. Some friend."
"I'm sure Larsa had his reasons." But she was frowning when she said it. They'd gone to Larsa for help, and had been met at the aerodome by Imperials with warrants. But she knew Larsa would never actually hurt them. He might have been a grown man now, and an emperor, but he was still Larsa. He still blushed when she danced, for gods' sakes! And let Vaan win at chess sometimes.
It just didn't add up.
"Now listen here, Penelo." She hated it when Vaan took that tone with her. He sounded more like her father than her partner, and the last thing she needed was someone to tell her what to do. "I know you and Larsa are close, but he's not a cuddly little kid anymore. He's a Solidor. Who knows what's going through his mind?"
"Don't you even start--" She shut her mouth quickly. Somewhere down a hall, a soft scuff and a jingle echoed. Carefully, she edged away from the door, but there was barely three feet to move in. It wasn't even enough room to stretch out in, much less hide.
There was another sound of metal on metal as the dim rectangle of lesser darkness at her door was blocked by a body. The lock creaked, and then slowly the door slid open.
A magicite lamp flared, showing a tall figure cloaked from head to toe in brown oilcloth. "Don't stop talking on my account." Larsa grinned from in the depths of his hood. A set of keys arced through the air. Penelo snapped them up automatically. "We must hurry. I don't know long the guards will be unconscious."
WARNING. THERE ARE MEN AND WOMEN DOING PLATONIC, NON-CONSENSUAL, NON-EXPLICIT THINGS IN THIS. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. /goofball
The cells were neither cold nor warm, but that strange in-between temperature that can only be described as what it is not. But other than that small comfort, it was pretty much like any other cell Penelo had ever been in. Dark and tiny, with the endless sound of water dripping somewhere down the hall.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
"Knock it off Vaan!" she finally snapped, stretching out a leg to thump the thick stone wall between their cells. It didn't move at all, but it made her feel better. The jingle of the manacle around her ankle worked the exact opposite. "This is bad enough without you playing in the water!"
Leather scraped against rock somewhere in the unit next to her as Vaan fidgeted like a cranky toddler. They'd been there for a few hours, so he might have been bored. Heavens and Penelo both knew that Vaan's attention span was directly related to how much something glimmered. "I was just adding to the mood. What kind of dungeon doesn't have dripping water?"
"The kind that's a holding cell, not a dungeon." She kicked the wall again, getting some small satisfaction out of the thud of her boot heel against it. "They're probably going to ship us off tomorrow, or it would be a dungeon."
"Well, excuse me." In the near pitch of the cells, she could easily picture the way Vaan would be rolling his eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't stop to think what kind of holding cell we were tossed into when our friend had us arrested. Some friend."
"I'm sure Larsa had his reasons." But she was frowning when she said it. They'd gone to Larsa for help, and had been met at the aerodome by Imperials with warrants. But she knew Larsa would never actually hurt them. He might have been a grown man now, and an emperor, but he was still Larsa. He still blushed when she danced, for gods' sakes! And let Vaan win at chess sometimes.
It just didn't add up.
"Now listen here, Penelo." She hated it when Vaan took that tone with her. He sounded more like her father than her partner, and the last thing she needed was someone to tell her what to do. "I know you and Larsa are close, but he's not a cuddly little kid anymore. He's a Solidor. Who knows what's going through his mind?"
"Don't you even start--" She shut her mouth quickly. Somewhere down a hall, a soft scuff and a jingle echoed. Carefully, she edged away from the door, but there was barely three feet to move in. It wasn't even enough room to stretch out in, much less hide.
There was another sound of metal on metal as the dim rectangle of lesser darkness at her door was blocked by a body. The lock creaked, and then slowly the door slid open.
A magicite lamp flared, showing a tall figure cloaked from head to toe in brown oilcloth. "Don't stop talking on my account." Larsa grinned from in the depths of his hood. A set of keys arced through the air. Penelo snapped them up automatically. "We must hurry. I don't know long the guards will be unconscious."
