[FFVIII] With Good Intentions (wip)
Oct. 16th, 2010 11:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
joiedecombatFinally making a bit of progress on that speculative FFVIII AU that I've had notecarded forever. And discovering in the process that I'm terrible at managing scenes with more than about three people in them.
Rinoa woke to the faint vibrations and the dull, muffled roar of an airship in flight, blinking in vague confusion at the brightness of the light through the windows. For a moment, nothing quite made sense. Then she made a soft, disoriented "mnn?" sound, and the man in the seat across from her turned to look her way. "Did you sleep well?" he asked her, the slightest hint of amusement warming his voice. "We're almost there."
"Almost...?" she echoed, still not quite understanding. The nausea lingering in her throat kept her from saying anything else; she pressed her fingers against her chest, over the ring that hung on its chain around her neck, and found her skin clammy.
The motion caused General Caraway - no, Rinoa corrected herself bemusedly, her father - to raise his eyebrows. "Motion-sick?" he said. "That isn't like you."
"I think I had a weird dream." She curled her fingers around her mother's ring, momentarily baffled by the light weight and the smooth shape of it.
"Well," said her father, "we'll be landing at Esthar Airstation soon."
Esthar. Right. "Do you think we'll meet the President today?"
"I don't see why. The official reception is scheduled for tomorrow, I believe." The look her father gave her held, once again, that trace of restrained amusement. "Don't worry. You'll get to meet him soon enough."
"I know." She always felt a little like he was patronizing her when he looked like that - so she turned to look out the window instead, watching the strange, stark white landscape below give way to the smooth, sparkling structures of the city of Esthar. "I'm just curious. There's a lot I'd like to find out about President Loire. After all, he's from Galbadia originally, right?"
"Enlisted in the army, until his medical discharge."
"He wasn't even an officer." Rinoa looked back up from the window toward her father. "But in Esthar, he's a hero. They say he overthrew the sorceress."
"Rumors and legends are usually exaggerated," her father pointed out.
"I know that. And his service record in the army wasn't even very good, you said. But..." Once more, Rinoa looked out of the window. "He's been president of Esthar for seventeen years. And Esthar's been doing pretty well since he took office." If the view from the window of the airship was any indication, Esthar was doing more than "well." Rinoa was used to Deling City, with its dignified old buildings of brick and stone and plaster and wrought iron. But Esthar was sleek and shining in glass and steel, all shades of blue and rose and silver and gold in layers of translucence that made it look like a jewel-box in the bright sunlight of a May afternoon. "Do you think we'll get to stay all summer?"
"That depends on President Loire, and President Deling." There was a sort of quelling note in her father's tone, but Rinoa deliberately ignored it, turning around in her seat to grin at him instead.
"And how good you are at your job, I know. I guess for an ambassador the goal should be to come to an agreement quickly." One more look out the window, as the airship descended, angling towards the broad landing pad of the airstation. "But I can't help hoping that we get to stay for a long while."
--
Esthar's Presidential Palace, it turned out, was enormous.
The view from the car that met them at the Airstation proved to be just as impressive as the view from the air had been - dizzyingly so. Rinoa's first look from the side window as the car hummed along the raised skyway had given her a feeling of vertigo and a sudden vision of careening over the edge into the long drop to the ground somewhere out of sight below, and she'd had to sit back against the seat and make sure not to look down again. There was plenty to see at eye level, anyway.
"There's the Presidential Palace, up ahead," the driver commented. Her father only turned his head a little, but Rinoa scooted herself away from the window to squeeze up against Angelo in the middle of the back seat, leaning forward for a better look. Through the windshield she could see a massive building looming above the others in the distance, sleek and rounded and gleaming like all the rest of the architecture she'd seen so far. The baffling scale of the whole city made it hard to tell how close it was.
"Are we almost there?" she asked, and the driver - a lean, dark-skinned man who'd introduced himself as Kiros - smiled slightly.
"Not quite," he said. "You'll see."
They'd already been driving long enough to cross Deling City completely, and Rinoa was beginning to wonder how anyone who lived here managed to get around from day to day without getting lost. But as the minutes continued to tick by, she began to realize what Kiros meant; the palace seemed to creep closer only by degrees, growing very gradually larger against the skyline... and larger... and larger...
"How big is it?" she breathed some minutes later, craning her neck to try to keep something of the full scope of the building in view. She'd thought the Presidential Residence back home was big - this looked like it could encompass the Galbadian Presidential Residence several times over.
Kiros let out a short little heh of a laugh. "Pretty big," he said, slowing the car to pull it up along a curved drive underneath the shadow of the palace. "The President still gets lost in parts of it sometimes."
"Really?" She turned to look at his face, not sure if he was teasing her, but his faint, enigmatic smile did nothing to give her any clue about whether or not he'd been making a joke.
"You can ask him yourself if you want," he said as he brought the car to a stop. "I'll let the welcoming committee take it from here."
On her father's side of the car, the biggest man Rinoa had ever seen moved to open the car door; beyond him she could just see two more people waiting, a small brown-haired woman in a tidy suit and a man in an untucked shirt and rumpled slacks.
The man was the one to step forward as General Caraway got out of the car. "Welcome to Esthar," he said brightly, pulling his hands out of his pockets and beginning to extend one in greeting. "I'm - you brought a dog!"
In the next moment he was past Caraway and at the open car door, hunkering down until he was face-to-face with Angelo. "Hi! What's his name?" Looking past Angelo for a moment, he met Rinoa's eyes, brows lifting in eager inquiry. "Can I pet him? - her? - him?"
Rinoa smothered a giggle. "Her name's Angelo," she said. "You can pet her if you want. Angelo, shake hands. Shake!"
Well-versed in this trick, Angelo obediently lifted a paw, which he reached to shake with visible delight. "Hey," he laughed, "she's really smart. Look how smart you are!" Beaming, he ruffled Angelo's ears and then turned his head to look back over his shoulder. "Raine, did you see?"
"General Caraway did ask ahead of time if it would be all right for his daughter to bring her dog," the brown-haired woman replied in a faintly chiding tone. "Remember?" As she said it, she turned a meaningful look towards Rinoa's father, standing there looking rather nonplussed at the whole situation.
"Oh yeah." With a sheepish grin, the green-eyed man straightened up onto his feet, rubbing absently at the back of his neck as he turned to face General Caraway again. "Sorry about that. Let me start over. Welcome to Esthar. It's great to meet you." Once again he stuck out his hand. "I'm Laguna Loire."
At the bemused look on her father's face, Rinoa had to struggle not to laugh again.
Rinoa woke to the faint vibrations and the dull, muffled roar of an airship in flight, blinking in vague confusion at the brightness of the light through the windows. For a moment, nothing quite made sense. Then she made a soft, disoriented "mnn?" sound, and the man in the seat across from her turned to look her way. "Did you sleep well?" he asked her, the slightest hint of amusement warming his voice. "We're almost there."
"Almost...?" she echoed, still not quite understanding. The nausea lingering in her throat kept her from saying anything else; she pressed her fingers against her chest, over the ring that hung on its chain around her neck, and found her skin clammy.
The motion caused General Caraway - no, Rinoa corrected herself bemusedly, her father - to raise his eyebrows. "Motion-sick?" he said. "That isn't like you."
"I think I had a weird dream." She curled her fingers around her mother's ring, momentarily baffled by the light weight and the smooth shape of it.
"Well," said her father, "we'll be landing at Esthar Airstation soon."
Esthar. Right. "Do you think we'll meet the President today?"
"I don't see why. The official reception is scheduled for tomorrow, I believe." The look her father gave her held, once again, that trace of restrained amusement. "Don't worry. You'll get to meet him soon enough."
"I know." She always felt a little like he was patronizing her when he looked like that - so she turned to look out the window instead, watching the strange, stark white landscape below give way to the smooth, sparkling structures of the city of Esthar. "I'm just curious. There's a lot I'd like to find out about President Loire. After all, he's from Galbadia originally, right?"
"Enlisted in the army, until his medical discharge."
"He wasn't even an officer." Rinoa looked back up from the window toward her father. "But in Esthar, he's a hero. They say he overthrew the sorceress."
"Rumors and legends are usually exaggerated," her father pointed out.
"I know that. And his service record in the army wasn't even very good, you said. But..." Once more, Rinoa looked out of the window. "He's been president of Esthar for seventeen years. And Esthar's been doing pretty well since he took office." If the view from the window of the airship was any indication, Esthar was doing more than "well." Rinoa was used to Deling City, with its dignified old buildings of brick and stone and plaster and wrought iron. But Esthar was sleek and shining in glass and steel, all shades of blue and rose and silver and gold in layers of translucence that made it look like a jewel-box in the bright sunlight of a May afternoon. "Do you think we'll get to stay all summer?"
"That depends on President Loire, and President Deling." There was a sort of quelling note in her father's tone, but Rinoa deliberately ignored it, turning around in her seat to grin at him instead.
"And how good you are at your job, I know. I guess for an ambassador the goal should be to come to an agreement quickly." One more look out the window, as the airship descended, angling towards the broad landing pad of the airstation. "But I can't help hoping that we get to stay for a long while."
--
Esthar's Presidential Palace, it turned out, was enormous.
The view from the car that met them at the Airstation proved to be just as impressive as the view from the air had been - dizzyingly so. Rinoa's first look from the side window as the car hummed along the raised skyway had given her a feeling of vertigo and a sudden vision of careening over the edge into the long drop to the ground somewhere out of sight below, and she'd had to sit back against the seat and make sure not to look down again. There was plenty to see at eye level, anyway.
"There's the Presidential Palace, up ahead," the driver commented. Her father only turned his head a little, but Rinoa scooted herself away from the window to squeeze up against Angelo in the middle of the back seat, leaning forward for a better look. Through the windshield she could see a massive building looming above the others in the distance, sleek and rounded and gleaming like all the rest of the architecture she'd seen so far. The baffling scale of the whole city made it hard to tell how close it was.
"Are we almost there?" she asked, and the driver - a lean, dark-skinned man who'd introduced himself as Kiros - smiled slightly.
"Not quite," he said. "You'll see."
They'd already been driving long enough to cross Deling City completely, and Rinoa was beginning to wonder how anyone who lived here managed to get around from day to day without getting lost. But as the minutes continued to tick by, she began to realize what Kiros meant; the palace seemed to creep closer only by degrees, growing very gradually larger against the skyline... and larger... and larger...
"How big is it?" she breathed some minutes later, craning her neck to try to keep something of the full scope of the building in view. She'd thought the Presidential Residence back home was big - this looked like it could encompass the Galbadian Presidential Residence several times over.
Kiros let out a short little heh of a laugh. "Pretty big," he said, slowing the car to pull it up along a curved drive underneath the shadow of the palace. "The President still gets lost in parts of it sometimes."
"Really?" She turned to look at his face, not sure if he was teasing her, but his faint, enigmatic smile did nothing to give her any clue about whether or not he'd been making a joke.
"You can ask him yourself if you want," he said as he brought the car to a stop. "I'll let the welcoming committee take it from here."
On her father's side of the car, the biggest man Rinoa had ever seen moved to open the car door; beyond him she could just see two more people waiting, a small brown-haired woman in a tidy suit and a man in an untucked shirt and rumpled slacks.
The man was the one to step forward as General Caraway got out of the car. "Welcome to Esthar," he said brightly, pulling his hands out of his pockets and beginning to extend one in greeting. "I'm - you brought a dog!"
In the next moment he was past Caraway and at the open car door, hunkering down until he was face-to-face with Angelo. "Hi! What's his name?" Looking past Angelo for a moment, he met Rinoa's eyes, brows lifting in eager inquiry. "Can I pet him? - her? - him?"
Rinoa smothered a giggle. "Her name's Angelo," she said. "You can pet her if you want. Angelo, shake hands. Shake!"
Well-versed in this trick, Angelo obediently lifted a paw, which he reached to shake with visible delight. "Hey," he laughed, "she's really smart. Look how smart you are!" Beaming, he ruffled Angelo's ears and then turned his head to look back over his shoulder. "Raine, did you see?"
"General Caraway did ask ahead of time if it would be all right for his daughter to bring her dog," the brown-haired woman replied in a faintly chiding tone. "Remember?" As she said it, she turned a meaningful look towards Rinoa's father, standing there looking rather nonplussed at the whole situation.
"Oh yeah." With a sheepish grin, the green-eyed man straightened up onto his feet, rubbing absently at the back of his neck as he turned to face General Caraway again. "Sorry about that. Let me start over. Welcome to Esthar. It's great to meet you." Once again he stuck out his hand. "I'm Laguna Loire."
At the bemused look on her father's face, Rinoa had to struggle not to laugh again.
