Post by The LPA on Jun 23, 2009 18:49:58 GMT -5
((Continued from: fftalesrebirth.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=lindblum&action=display&thread=1082 and follows the Lindblum Revolution backstory.))
Sid takes another quick glance out the window, the cheering has not ceased once since he began his tale and with it appearing that Reynard will take the stand at any moment, Sid gets into position, laying prone, facing the window.
“So, you understand vhy I am here?” Sid asks, staring down the sight of his rifle. He glances for a moment to the kid beside him, the young Loyalist assigned to him as a spotter.
“I suppose… you just can’t ‘put down your rifle’ till what you and the others fought for happens and killing Reynard will make that happen?” The Loyalist waves the fluttering curtain away from his face.
“I dunno, vho could really knov? But vith him dead, the people have another chance.”
The Loyalist turns to the window, shaking his head. “Just going to make him a martyr… but, quick question. What happened to the others? Connolly and Violette.”
Sid’s expression tells he is not happy to speak of it, but as he rests the rifle steadies his arm and sights the gun, he speaks.
“The captain joined vith the Separatists, just like Violette and I. Fev months later, during the battle of St. Michael Brewery, his unit fought against former members of the Red Dragoons, viping them out; day after, he put a bullet through his ovn head.”
The Loyalist cringes at the thought, a bloody but quick way to go. He gulps, not sure he wants to know about Violette, Sid continues anyway.
“Violette vas doing what she did best, playing spy games and gathering intel from veak-villed men… then one night, a man gave her a piece of her ovn medicine. The black vidov crossed the path of a lady killer.”
The Loyalist looks slightly away, bit embarrassed to bring up bad memories, but one last question still lingered.
“And Iole and Ollie?”
Sid, though prone, turns just enough to get a good look at the kid. He thinks for a moment, pondering.
“I don’t honestly knov, but I like to imagine that they are as far away from this var as possible. Living the life they deserve to have, maybe in some exotic, varm place. Maybe they even have a child, if it’s possible.”
He turns back to the rifle and repositions himself.
“Nov, I have something to ask of you.”
”What is it?”
“Leave me, take my story and tell of it later. Don’t let those people die forgotten vith me.”
The Loyalist looks on, confused. “W-what are you saying?”
“The minute I fire this rifle, Reynard’s storm-troopers will descend upon this building like hornets. There von’t be a chance for me to escape and neither for you, so you are going to leave now. You’re young; still deserve a chance at life. Leave the fighting for the old ones and ghosts.”
“But, my ord-“
“I’m changing your orders and as your superior, you vill obey them, understood?”
“But sir-“
“Go. Or I’ll shoot you second. Death would be a blessing compared to falling captive to Internal Affairs.”
“I-fine, understood. Goodbye, sir.”
“Goodbye, comrade.”
The young Loyalist stands and makes for the door but before he departs, Sid calls back to him one last time.
“Don’t forget the story, I didn’t come all this vay to be forgotten.”
The young loyalist nods and departs, closing the door behind him.
Sid, steadies his rifle just as the cheers from outside grow more monumental as a most familiar and sinister figure takes the stage, the din rattles his nerves making his aim uneasy. Undeterred though, Sid breathes in deep and exhales, slowly, calming himself. Now, silhouetted in Sid’s iron sights is the wiry frame, narrow faced fox standing before ‘his’ people. The sound of the cheers die away as Sid prepares, all he can hear now is his soft breaths and the growing thunder of his heart. His finger is now on the trigger, the cold smooth surface sends a shiver down his spine.
Breath in…
Breath Out…
In…
Out…
In and hold…
www.youtube.com/watch?v=1UrfeIkIoi0
Sid takes another quick glance out the window, the cheering has not ceased once since he began his tale and with it appearing that Reynard will take the stand at any moment, Sid gets into position, laying prone, facing the window.
“So, you understand vhy I am here?” Sid asks, staring down the sight of his rifle. He glances for a moment to the kid beside him, the young Loyalist assigned to him as a spotter.
“I suppose… you just can’t ‘put down your rifle’ till what you and the others fought for happens and killing Reynard will make that happen?” The Loyalist waves the fluttering curtain away from his face.
“I dunno, vho could really knov? But vith him dead, the people have another chance.”
The Loyalist turns to the window, shaking his head. “Just going to make him a martyr… but, quick question. What happened to the others? Connolly and Violette.”
Sid’s expression tells he is not happy to speak of it, but as he rests the rifle steadies his arm and sights the gun, he speaks.
“The captain joined vith the Separatists, just like Violette and I. Fev months later, during the battle of St. Michael Brewery, his unit fought against former members of the Red Dragoons, viping them out; day after, he put a bullet through his ovn head.”
The Loyalist cringes at the thought, a bloody but quick way to go. He gulps, not sure he wants to know about Violette, Sid continues anyway.
“Violette vas doing what she did best, playing spy games and gathering intel from veak-villed men… then one night, a man gave her a piece of her ovn medicine. The black vidov crossed the path of a lady killer.”
The Loyalist looks slightly away, bit embarrassed to bring up bad memories, but one last question still lingered.
“And Iole and Ollie?”
Sid, though prone, turns just enough to get a good look at the kid. He thinks for a moment, pondering.
“I don’t honestly knov, but I like to imagine that they are as far away from this var as possible. Living the life they deserve to have, maybe in some exotic, varm place. Maybe they even have a child, if it’s possible.”
He turns back to the rifle and repositions himself.
“Nov, I have something to ask of you.”
”What is it?”
“Leave me, take my story and tell of it later. Don’t let those people die forgotten vith me.”
The Loyalist looks on, confused. “W-what are you saying?”
“The minute I fire this rifle, Reynard’s storm-troopers will descend upon this building like hornets. There von’t be a chance for me to escape and neither for you, so you are going to leave now. You’re young; still deserve a chance at life. Leave the fighting for the old ones and ghosts.”
“But, my ord-“
“I’m changing your orders and as your superior, you vill obey them, understood?”
“But sir-“
“Go. Or I’ll shoot you second. Death would be a blessing compared to falling captive to Internal Affairs.”
“I-fine, understood. Goodbye, sir.”
“Goodbye, comrade.”
The young Loyalist stands and makes for the door but before he departs, Sid calls back to him one last time.
“Don’t forget the story, I didn’t come all this vay to be forgotten.”
The young loyalist nods and departs, closing the door behind him.
Sid, steadies his rifle just as the cheers from outside grow more monumental as a most familiar and sinister figure takes the stage, the din rattles his nerves making his aim uneasy. Undeterred though, Sid breathes in deep and exhales, slowly, calming himself. Now, silhouetted in Sid’s iron sights is the wiry frame, narrow faced fox standing before ‘his’ people. The sound of the cheers die away as Sid prepares, all he can hear now is his soft breaths and the growing thunder of his heart. His finger is now on the trigger, the cold smooth surface sends a shiver down his spine.
Breath in…
Breath Out…
In…
Out…
In and hold…
www.youtube.com/watch?v=1UrfeIkIoi0