PRE FIC RANTINGS AND A SPRINKLE OF DISCLAIMER: So...
very... close... I'm over halfway through the final dungeon in Xenosaga (w/
Gregory and Leslie's help of course) and already I'm getting fanfiction ideas!
This came to me while grocery shopping with my mother at midnight and listening
to Kokoro. I took a few liberties with Albedo's personality since the game
doesn't really tell you what he was like before he went all mentally unstable.
This is short and kind of pointless. Wahoo.
I don't own Xenosaga. I mean, literally. I don't even own a copy of the game, or a system on which to play it. Yey to being young and jobless!
(listening to Xenosaga music. Uber inspired) + Extensialism
Izzy Girl -=a brief pause within the eye of the storm=- "Hmm?" "What would you do? After the war, I mean." Rubedo scrunched his face up as he placed a concentrated look on the reloading mechanism of his gun. He flinched slightly as a loud explosion reverberated to his right, then shot Albedo a severe glare, "I don't really think that this is the time." "Why not now? We could die within the next ten minutes, so we might as well spend our last few moments conversing with each other like this. Like we used to." Rubedo finally managed to shove the ammo into the rifle and it clicked into place with a loud snap. He sighed heavily and rested his head against the damp brick of the half-destroyed wall they were using as a shelter, "Albedo..." he began, his voice taking on a warning tone. "I think that Albedo's just trying to keep spirits up." Guignan suggested tonelessly, his green eyes trained sharply on the darkening sky, "You shouldn't be so hard on him." "Keep spirits up?" Rubedo grumbled, "More like asking ridiculous and distracting questions." He glanced at the silver-haired boy and said grimly, "Even if we were to survive this hellhole I doubt there's much waiting for us out there in the 'real world'. We're literal weapons, Albedo. Our very existence is dependent on the war. If it weren't for the war, we wouldn't be alive." Albedo's lower lip slipped beneath his teeth and his face twisted as if he were physically wrapping his brain around the statement, "So what you're trying to say is that: we live for the fight? If we survive beyond this, there's nothing for us?" "Yeah. Something to that effect." "You want to die then?" Rubedo blinked a few times and paused contemplatively before answering with an uncomfortable shrug of his narrow shoulders, "Well, no. That's not it exactly..." "We have a survival mechanism bred into us." Guignan cut in, "We are genetically human." he turned his head slightly and shot his"'brothers" a shallow grin, "Besides, we wouldn't exactly make good soldiers if we were dropping dead left and right out here, would we?" "See Rubdeo. Guignan agrees with me." Guignan's smile dissolved and he shook his head, "That's not what I meant..." "No, listen!" Albedo placed his gun carefully on the rubble-littered ground and gestured wildly with his arms, "That may be true for the rest of them, but for us..." "Keep your voice down!" Rubdeo hissed, grabbing the silver-haired boy's wrist and roughly lowering one of his arms, "We're still under heavy fire. You want to give away our position?" Albedo aquired a mild pout, but continued speaking anyways, albeit in a lowered voice, "What I meant is we're special, the three of us. There's something different about us than the other U.R.T.Vs, and not just in the way we look. It's the way we act, on our own and with each other." "Do you mean the genetic inhancements?" Guignan inquired curiously. Albedo shook his head and waved his hand lightly, self concious of Rubedo's skeptical gaze, "That's all a part of it, I suppose. I mean, the others certainly can't regrow limbs like I can, and I think that weird thing Guignan does with his mind is pretty unique... but I meant something deeper than that. Something almost... metaphysical." Guignan turned his gaze sharply and stared at Albedo with calm but penetrating eyes, no doubt picking apart the other boy's thoughts without meaning to, "Are you saying that we have a God?" "I..." Albedo cut himself short before it was apparent whether he was agreeing or not. His face blanked and he inhaled deeply. "Well, if that's all Albedo was trying to say, I definitely know what's so special about me." Rubedo laughed and undid the latch on one of his army-issue gloves, holding out his right hand to show the production number stamped there, " 'Here is wisdom. Let him who has understanding calculate the number of the beast for it is 666.' " "Where did you get that nonsense?" If Guignan had been the type to show emotion, he probably would have rolled his eyes. "Revelation 13:18. You're talking about God and you haven't even read The Bible?" "Well, I've skimmed through it a few times, but I don't make it my business to memorize every piece of literature the old man keeps in his lab." "I don't memorize it all." Rubedo said defensively, his words muffled as he re-did the glove's buckle with his teeth. "That's what I was talking about." Albedo cried triumphantly. Rubedo shot him a dangerous look and he smiled guiltily, lowering his voice accordingly, "Things like that. Rubedo, your thirst for knowledge, and the way Guignan is always so calm and collected about everything." "Don't forget your irritating idealisms." Rubedo added offhandedly. "Exactly." "That's strange." Guignan mused thoughtfully, "I always thought that was just because we were the latest production models. Or the last ones he made. I didn't think that it was intentional." "Oh, I think that father intended for it to be this way from the beginning." Rubedo groaned loudly, "Do you really have to call him that, Albedo?" "He is genetically our father, Rubedo." Guignan pointed out neutrally. "Everything is 'genetically this', 'genetically that' with you Guignan. He's not like our father at all." "He is as much as that Mizahi lunatic is the father of the Realians." Albedo scoffed. "That's entirely different. Mizrahi programmed those things to address him as a father." Rubedo scruffed at the ground bitterly with the toe of his heavy boot, "It's sick. At least our creator had the sense not to encourage such familiarity." "Do you really have to be so anal retentive about everything?" Albedo wondered. "Wow. Those were some big words, Albedo. And you should know better than anyone- I'm not always like this. I just tend to get kind of grumpy when we're in the middle of a life and death situations and you bring up stupid topics like this." "I don't believe that you disagree with Albedo so much as you would like to think." Guignan observed, the same reserved smile from before flickering across his lips. Rubedo raised one burgandy eyebrow "And what makes you say that?" "If you truly thought that we were mere seconds away from being killed you wouldn't treat Albedo so coarsely. He is part of you afterall, and you don't treat such an important person so dismissively if you think those cruel words will be the last you ever speak to them. Perhaps you see more of a future ahead of us than you insist." Albedo grinned broadly and Rubedo leaned forwards on his rifle, narrowing his eyes at Guignan suspiciously, "That's a rather humanistic thing to hear from someone like you." Guignan let out a rare, wry chuckle and rolled his shoulders into a shrug, "What can I do? I am human after all." [/pause] POST FIC REFLECTIONS: It was little more than a conversation. *sigh* I honestly don't know where the pre-song-of-Nephilim Albedo persona came from. I guess it was just kind of floating around in my head here. It just seemed to make sense when couple with the hot-headed Jr. and eerily calm Guignan that he could have been idealistic and innocent. C'mon, Episode II, prove me wrong! I dare you! Anyways, as for the grumpy Jr... I just kind stripped away of his fourteen years of "living with responsibilities" and imagined. ^ ^ I adore Jr.
This is the first and quite possibly the last time I'll ever quote The Bible in a fanfic. *sincerely
Jenn "Sparky" Young
aka Izzy Girl
aka Cephied Variable
[email protected]
ff.n ID#12217 (Izzy Girl)
fp.n ID#12217 (Cephied Variable)
I don't own Xenosaga. I mean, literally. I don't even own a copy of the game, or a system on which to play it. Yey to being young and jobless!
(listening to Xenosaga music. Uber inspired) + Extensialism
Izzy Girl -=a brief pause within the eye of the storm=- "Hmm?" "What would you do? After the war, I mean." Rubedo scrunched his face up as he placed a concentrated look on the reloading mechanism of his gun. He flinched slightly as a loud explosion reverberated to his right, then shot Albedo a severe glare, "I don't really think that this is the time." "Why not now? We could die within the next ten minutes, so we might as well spend our last few moments conversing with each other like this. Like we used to." Rubedo finally managed to shove the ammo into the rifle and it clicked into place with a loud snap. He sighed heavily and rested his head against the damp brick of the half-destroyed wall they were using as a shelter, "Albedo..." he began, his voice taking on a warning tone. "I think that Albedo's just trying to keep spirits up." Guignan suggested tonelessly, his green eyes trained sharply on the darkening sky, "You shouldn't be so hard on him." "Keep spirits up?" Rubedo grumbled, "More like asking ridiculous and distracting questions." He glanced at the silver-haired boy and said grimly, "Even if we were to survive this hellhole I doubt there's much waiting for us out there in the 'real world'. We're literal weapons, Albedo. Our very existence is dependent on the war. If it weren't for the war, we wouldn't be alive." Albedo's lower lip slipped beneath his teeth and his face twisted as if he were physically wrapping his brain around the statement, "So what you're trying to say is that: we live for the fight? If we survive beyond this, there's nothing for us?" "Yeah. Something to that effect." "You want to die then?" Rubedo blinked a few times and paused contemplatively before answering with an uncomfortable shrug of his narrow shoulders, "Well, no. That's not it exactly..." "We have a survival mechanism bred into us." Guignan cut in, "We are genetically human." he turned his head slightly and shot his"'brothers" a shallow grin, "Besides, we wouldn't exactly make good soldiers if we were dropping dead left and right out here, would we?" "See Rubdeo. Guignan agrees with me." Guignan's smile dissolved and he shook his head, "That's not what I meant..." "No, listen!" Albedo placed his gun carefully on the rubble-littered ground and gestured wildly with his arms, "That may be true for the rest of them, but for us..." "Keep your voice down!" Rubdeo hissed, grabbing the silver-haired boy's wrist and roughly lowering one of his arms, "We're still under heavy fire. You want to give away our position?" Albedo aquired a mild pout, but continued speaking anyways, albeit in a lowered voice, "What I meant is we're special, the three of us. There's something different about us than the other U.R.T.Vs, and not just in the way we look. It's the way we act, on our own and with each other." "Do you mean the genetic inhancements?" Guignan inquired curiously. Albedo shook his head and waved his hand lightly, self concious of Rubedo's skeptical gaze, "That's all a part of it, I suppose. I mean, the others certainly can't regrow limbs like I can, and I think that weird thing Guignan does with his mind is pretty unique... but I meant something deeper than that. Something almost... metaphysical." Guignan turned his gaze sharply and stared at Albedo with calm but penetrating eyes, no doubt picking apart the other boy's thoughts without meaning to, "Are you saying that we have a God?" "I..." Albedo cut himself short before it was apparent whether he was agreeing or not. His face blanked and he inhaled deeply. "Well, if that's all Albedo was trying to say, I definitely know what's so special about me." Rubedo laughed and undid the latch on one of his army-issue gloves, holding out his right hand to show the production number stamped there, " 'Here is wisdom. Let him who has understanding calculate the number of the beast for it is 666.' " "Where did you get that nonsense?" If Guignan had been the type to show emotion, he probably would have rolled his eyes. "Revelation 13:18. You're talking about God and you haven't even read The Bible?" "Well, I've skimmed through it a few times, but I don't make it my business to memorize every piece of literature the old man keeps in his lab." "I don't memorize it all." Rubedo said defensively, his words muffled as he re-did the glove's buckle with his teeth. "That's what I was talking about." Albedo cried triumphantly. Rubedo shot him a dangerous look and he smiled guiltily, lowering his voice accordingly, "Things like that. Rubedo, your thirst for knowledge, and the way Guignan is always so calm and collected about everything." "Don't forget your irritating idealisms." Rubedo added offhandedly. "Exactly." "That's strange." Guignan mused thoughtfully, "I always thought that was just because we were the latest production models. Or the last ones he made. I didn't think that it was intentional." "Oh, I think that father intended for it to be this way from the beginning." Rubedo groaned loudly, "Do you really have to call him that, Albedo?" "He is genetically our father, Rubedo." Guignan pointed out neutrally. "Everything is 'genetically this', 'genetically that' with you Guignan. He's not like our father at all." "He is as much as that Mizahi lunatic is the father of the Realians." Albedo scoffed. "That's entirely different. Mizrahi programmed those things to address him as a father." Rubedo scruffed at the ground bitterly with the toe of his heavy boot, "It's sick. At least our creator had the sense not to encourage such familiarity." "Do you really have to be so anal retentive about everything?" Albedo wondered. "Wow. Those were some big words, Albedo. And you should know better than anyone- I'm not always like this. I just tend to get kind of grumpy when we're in the middle of a life and death situations and you bring up stupid topics like this." "I don't believe that you disagree with Albedo so much as you would like to think." Guignan observed, the same reserved smile from before flickering across his lips. Rubedo raised one burgandy eyebrow "And what makes you say that?" "If you truly thought that we were mere seconds away from being killed you wouldn't treat Albedo so coarsely. He is part of you afterall, and you don't treat such an important person so dismissively if you think those cruel words will be the last you ever speak to them. Perhaps you see more of a future ahead of us than you insist." Albedo grinned broadly and Rubedo leaned forwards on his rifle, narrowing his eyes at Guignan suspiciously, "That's a rather humanistic thing to hear from someone like you." Guignan let out a rare, wry chuckle and rolled his shoulders into a shrug, "What can I do? I am human after all." [/pause] POST FIC REFLECTIONS: It was little more than a conversation. *sigh* I honestly don't know where the pre-song-of-Nephilim Albedo persona came from. I guess it was just kind of floating around in my head here. It just seemed to make sense when couple with the hot-headed Jr. and eerily calm Guignan that he could have been idealistic and innocent. C'mon, Episode II, prove me wrong! I dare you! Anyways, as for the grumpy Jr... I just kind stripped away of his fourteen years of "living with responsibilities" and imagined. ^ ^ I adore Jr.
This is the first and quite possibly the last time I'll ever quote The Bible in a fanfic. *sincerely
Jenn "Sparky" Young
aka Izzy Girl
aka Cephied Variable
[email protected]
ff.n ID#12217 (Izzy Girl)
fp.n ID#12217 (Cephied Variable)