ext_359039 ([identity profile] leonhart29.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] marysuevirus2008-06-15 10:03 pm

MSV: Final Fantasies Revealed

Title: MSV : Final Fantasies Revealed
Warnings: Graphic sexual situations, angst, violence
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Rating: Mature
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VIII and the characters, places and situations contained in the game are the sole property of Square Enix. The original characters belong to the following people: Abeni "Ben" Quade : [personal profile] dazzledfirestar, MacKenzie Brighid Fitzpatrick : [personal profile] ladydeathfaerie, Rishou Souhei : [personal profile] samuraiter, and Ceres Barathrum : [personal profile] leonhart29 and are not to be used without the permission of those individuals. The Mary Sue Virus is the property of Dazzledfirestar and can not be used without her permission. I am not making any money from this and I claim no ownership of the Final Fantasy VIII fandom. This is for your entertainment only.


MSV: Final Fantasies Revealed Index


~*~

Ceres hadn't gotten very far with the never-ending questions she kept firing at the SeeDs on the transport.  As a matter of fact, all that it had gotten her was another sleep spell ... and another ... and yet another.  It was annoying to lose consciousness in the middle of a question and wake up on board the White SeeDs' flag ship without knowing exactly how she had gotten there, the last word she had spoken finally falling from her lips.

She had forgotten that there were all kinds of spells in the new world that would make her life a living hell, chief of which were the status change spells.  Being poisoned or put to sleep because someone didn't like her wasn't the nicest thought in the world.  The fact that she didn't even know how to draw or cast a spell, any spell, didn't sit well with her.  How was she going to protect herself from those over-the-top SeeDs if she couldn't even cast a simple barrier spell?  It hadn't escaped her memory that she would have to somehow find a Guardian Force to junction just to use the spells.  It would be far easier if she could find a pocketbook full of Gil - the local currency - and settle in at a good shop.

She had a mental image of going into an item shop, plopping a huge bag of Gil down on the counter, and telling the salesperson to "fill 'er up".  She almost laughed as she watched herself walk down the road laboring behind a wheelbarrow full of potions, hi-potions, softs, ethers, and anything else she could have found.

She cracked an eye open and came face to face with a very stern-looking young man.  "Before you start in on the questions, keep in mind I won't be able to answer any of them," he said as soon as he noticed her moving.  Maybe, he thought, if he headed her off at the pass before she could even open her mouth, she would shut the hell up and not cause him any trouble.  He wasn't very hopeful, though.  He had heard all of the stories his fellow SeeDs had brought back with them.  The woman apparently never stopped flapping her gums.

"Oh, goodie - and if I ask them anyway?" she asked as she tried to keep what passed for a shirt closed.  Apparently, Betty Boop flannel PJ bottoms and a black silk camisole didn't hold up very well when one has been dunked in salt water, washed up on the shore, and hit with so many sleep spells that one didn't know when one ended and the other one began.

"I'll probably put you out again," he said as he turned a blushing face away from her.  It wasn't that she was showing off anything, but the fact that, at any moment, her shirt could disintegrate left all kinds of unclean thoughts in his head, thoughts he knew damn well he shouldn't entertain.  No one had to tell him that not only would Edea hand him his balls, but the person who was taking her off of their hands would probably skin him and use the resulting leather for a new jacket.  That was one man none of them wanted to mess with.

"What I want to know is, why in the hell have you been hitting me with them in the first place?  All you had to do was tell me to shut up, and that would have been the end of it," Ceres said as she stood up.  She quickly sat back down when she realized the drawstring holding her pants up had pulled out of the holes and was residing, snakelike, at her back.  As it was, she had to shimmy a bit on the bed to move the fabric back up over her ass.  

"Because even when we did say shut up, you didn't.  Look -"  He turned a pleading face to her as he spoke.  "- I don't know what's going on, even more than you do.  I have orders not to tell you where we're going, to keep you below decks, and, if need be, hit you with a few more sleeping powders.  Please don't make me do that anymore."

"I would prefer it if you didn't, if it's all the same to you.  From the way my head feels, you must have hit me with your entire stock of them," Ceres said as she studied the man's profile.  The closer she looked at him, the more it became clear that he was more boy than man.  He couldn't have been more than eighteen.  "How old are you?"

"I'm old enough to fight if I need to," he said, his voice not devoid of pride - it positively dripped with it.

"That's all I'm going to get, isn't it?" Ceres sighed as he nodded and tried everything in his power not to look at her.  "Fine, then.  How about we do something that will make both of us more comfortable."

She almost smiled when the boy audibly swallowed.  "What is that?"

"Get me into some clothing that isn't falling apart," Ceres suggested as she pulled what should have been a blanket up to her chin.  Every scrap of cloth around her was being eaten away by something or other.  If it wasn't salt water, it was moths.  They must have given her the most threadbare blanket on the ship.

"I wish I could, believe me, but we don't have any clothes to spare that would fit you, and you can't wear a uniform if you aren't a SeeD," he said as he crossed the little cabin to the only porthole.  

The sunlight was inviting, and Ceres suddenly had the urge to get out into it.  What she wouldn't give to feel the sun on her face, the wind playing with her hair, or even some air that didn't smell like last year's gym socks that had been forgotten in a backpack just waiting for some unfortunate person to come along and say "I wonder what's in here?" - those being the last coherent words spoken for about a month.  The smell really was that bad, and Ceres was having a hard time even concentrating on anything else.

"Then get the hell out of the room if the thought of seeing something you shouldn't has you so fucking uncomfortable.  With the way you're going on, you'd think you'd never seen a naked woman before," Ceres said.  She was tired of the whole thing, and trying not to embarrass the young man was exhausting.  She didn't like feeling as if he viewed her as an ugly duckling.  Besides, if he left, she might be able to sneak out onto the main deck.

"I can't leave you alone, orders from Edea," he stated, somewhat morosely.  At least he was having as bad a time of it as Ceres was.

"Okay - in that case, it'll be twenty questions.  Where am I going?  What's your name?  Who did Edea dump me off on? How long has it been since the war? What color are your eyes? Better yet, what color underwear are you wearing?  How about, what's for d -"  Ceres' voice floated off, and she flopped back down on the bed as three vials of sleeping powder hit her square in the face.

The SeeD gave a forced sigh of relief once he was sure the woman was sound asleep.  He hated to do it, but there was something about her that wore away at his defenses and made him want to tell her everything.  The others were right, she was best kept asleep for the next couple of days.  Let former Commander Leonhart answer her questions, get her dressed in something that was appropriate, and take her off their hands - the sooner, the better.

~*~

MacKenzie climbed out of the little boat and up the rope ladder to the deck of Seifer's fishing vessel, willing her shaking arms to hold her weight as she went.  That asshole!  Making me row the whole way so he could "keep watch"!  Just wait until I get my hands around his throat, she thought as she finally swung her leg over the railing.

Who was she kidding?  It wasn't exactly his throat she wanted to get her hands on.  That damned fascination she had with bad boys was rearing its ugly head again, and she couldn't quite tramp down on it, either.  From what she could remember, which was getting to be less and less all the time, MacKenzie knew he wasn't a nice, safe man who would take her on walks in the park and out to a candlelight dinner.  He'd probably fuck her in the park on the swing set and eat dinner off her belly.

"As much as I like looking at your ass, would you please get on board so I'm not just hanging here?" Seifer called up.  MacKenzie had stalled while thinking, one leg over the railing, the other one still planted on the last rung of the rope ladder.  His voice was enough to jumpstart not only her legs, but the rest of her body, as well.  It may have been a deep, orgasm-inspiring voice, but it grated on her nerves.  If there was ever a man that deserved to have his balls handed to him on a silver platter, MacKenzie was sure it was that one.

"Keep it up, and I'll cut the ladder before you can make it up here," MacKenzie sneered as she took stock of her new home away from home.  She couldn't take more than two steps before she ran into, tripped over, or got hit in the face by some kind of fishing equipment.  

The place could have used a feminine touch; too bad she didn't have an ounce of the "pretty gene" in her entire body.  Oh, she could have done it, but she really didn't want to.  All she wanted was a clear path across the deck.  That was about as far as her happy homemaker tendencies would go.

"What?" Seifer asked as he watched her turn around in circles on the deck, his head pillowed on his arms as he hung from the railing.  He followed the lines of her eyes and tried to figure out what was making her face fall like that.  As far as he could tell, his boat was the best one of its size on the ocean.  So what if she took your life in your hands every time she walked the deck?  He knew where everything was, and, if she wanted to stay on board and not end up floating with the wake, she would as well.

"How do you walk across the deck and not kill yourself?" she asked before finally turning back to acknowledge his presence with a face-to-face conversation.  "Please don't tell me the sleeping quarters are like this."

"What did you expect?  This is a working fishing boat, I work it, I sleep on it, and I get by just fine," Seifer said with a smirk as he vaulted over the railing, his feet planting on the rolling deck as easily as if he had glue on the soles of his feet.  "And what do you mean by quarters?  There's only one bunk."

MacKenzie just stared in wonder as he laughed at what he thought was a wonderful joke at her expense.  "Only one bunk, huh?  So where are you going to sleep, then?" she asked, a small, devilish smile curving the corners of her lips up to the starry sky.

Seifer's laughter stopped quickly, almost as if someone had turned off the power to it.  He really hadn't stopped to think about that.  He always just assumed that he'd keep his bed and MacKenzie would find some net to string somewhere or another for a hammock.  It never crossed his mind that she wouldn't take kindly to that idea.

"I'll be sleeping in my bunk, you're the one that will have to find another place to sleep," Seifer said as he picked his way across the deck to the cabin.  "We'll be getting underway in a moment, so, if I were you, I'd find someplace or another."

MacKenzie stared after him, the evil grin on her face growing until he could count each individual pearly white tooth in her mouth.  "So he wants to play, does he?  That can be arranged."

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