Work (FF7:DoC [PG-13])
Title: Work
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII: Dirge of Cerberus
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Shelke, Vincent, Cast
Summary: "I've never been to a birthday party before."
"Vincent Valentine."
The name left her lips like a sigh, tinged with annoyance. When he turned she tilted her head the slightest. "They're waiting."
He knew they were waiting. "Alright," he agreed with a jerky nod that held all his lack of sociality. It had been a long time he'd rested in that coffin. Thirty years. He'd have stayed there forever if he could have.
But he came out for Lucrecia. And through Her he uninentionally sought some marginal form of redemption. Now they both went on living. He and Shelke. Trying to pick their way around the debris of their sins. Or as she called them, the casualties of living.
Everything came with a price.
He followed her out into the main room of Seventh Heaven where the rest of AVALANCHE waited. Marlene looked at him disapprovingly from behind her cake, eyes pouting over all eight candles. Cid grumped something about bastards moping like shits in shadows and Barret ordered he sit his "damn foo' self fucking down". He took a place in the shadows nearest the table, Shelke at his elbow.
After the happy birthday song--sung loudest and horribly off-key by Barret--Marlene blew out the candles to a shout of "hooray!". "Here sweetie, let me cut the cake," Tifa said, poducing a dull blade. "Which piece do you want?"
"I've never been to a birthday party before," Shelke, watching from the gloom, murmured to Vincent. He glanced at her. "And?"
She sighed and shifted the slightest. "Foolish. Unnecessary."
He looked away. "Dr. Lucrecia Crescent was particularly fond of them," she said. And they stood there. Sin and a dead woman shared just between the two of them along with the sense that they shouldn't be there--all so wrong, so ironic, so terribly, horribly corrupt, like a tainted image.
And then Tifa came over and grabbed their hands, plopping cake in their waiting palms. "C'mon you two! It doesn't hurt to smile!" She said with a big smile of her own.
"It requires more muscles than it takes to frown," Shelke said, slightly sour. "You'd better fucking smile! I see you frowning Vinnie!" Barret roared from where he stood--he'd overheard. Shelke glanced at Vincent and he gave her the slightest of shrugs. They both attempted to smile.
"GodDAMN--you're gonna make a fella' blind! Put that shit away!" Cid hollered at their expressions. Shelke smirked just the slightest. "It seems I've much to work on, Vincent Valentine," she said, voice tinged lightly with amusement. Vincent's eyes smiled and that was a lot nicer than when his mouth smiled. They both had a lot to work on.
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII: Dirge of Cerberus
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Shelke, Vincent, Cast
Summary: "I've never been to a birthday party before."
"Vincent Valentine."
The name left her lips like a sigh, tinged with annoyance. When he turned she tilted her head the slightest. "They're waiting."
He knew they were waiting. "Alright," he agreed with a jerky nod that held all his lack of sociality. It had been a long time he'd rested in that coffin. Thirty years. He'd have stayed there forever if he could have.
But he came out for Lucrecia. And through Her he uninentionally sought some marginal form of redemption. Now they both went on living. He and Shelke. Trying to pick their way around the debris of their sins. Or as she called them, the casualties of living.
Everything came with a price.
He followed her out into the main room of Seventh Heaven where the rest of AVALANCHE waited. Marlene looked at him disapprovingly from behind her cake, eyes pouting over all eight candles. Cid grumped something about bastards moping like shits in shadows and Barret ordered he sit his "damn foo' self fucking down". He took a place in the shadows nearest the table, Shelke at his elbow.
After the happy birthday song--sung loudest and horribly off-key by Barret--Marlene blew out the candles to a shout of "hooray!". "Here sweetie, let me cut the cake," Tifa said, poducing a dull blade. "Which piece do you want?"
"I've never been to a birthday party before," Shelke, watching from the gloom, murmured to Vincent. He glanced at her. "And?"
She sighed and shifted the slightest. "Foolish. Unnecessary."
He looked away. "Dr. Lucrecia Crescent was particularly fond of them," she said. And they stood there. Sin and a dead woman shared just between the two of them along with the sense that they shouldn't be there--all so wrong, so ironic, so terribly, horribly corrupt, like a tainted image.
And then Tifa came over and grabbed their hands, plopping cake in their waiting palms. "C'mon you two! It doesn't hurt to smile!" She said with a big smile of her own.
"It requires more muscles than it takes to frown," Shelke said, slightly sour. "You'd better fucking smile! I see you frowning Vinnie!" Barret roared from where he stood--he'd overheard. Shelke glanced at Vincent and he gave her the slightest of shrugs. They both attempted to smile.
"GodDAMN--you're gonna make a fella' blind! Put that shit away!" Cid hollered at their expressions. Shelke smirked just the slightest. "It seems I've much to work on, Vincent Valentine," she said, voice tinged lightly with amusement. Vincent's eyes smiled and that was a lot nicer than when his mouth smiled. They both had a lot to work on.