Back to Basics

[Tiger Lily]

Thiiiiis is the fanfiction I've been messing with for a while. It's been incarnated a few different ways, but this is roughly how I think it'll stay. Anyway, it's set about 23 years after Final Fantasy VIII ends, and it's basically a drawn-out fluff about the children of the main characters of the game. Cannon pairings, etc.

Don't expect it to be wonderful or even have all that much of a plot. But here it is.

Alsooo...
No comments in this thread, please. I'm debating whether or not to make a comments thread, but if you're insanely compelled to give me feedback, PM or MSN, pliss.

Back to Basics
Prologue

Rinn Leonhart stirred and rolled over in her sleep as the first rays of sunlight spilled over the walls of Balamb Garden. Her normally harsh features were at ease and peaceful as slumber had a hold of her; her usually creased brow was relaxed, giving her the look of a sleeping child. Sleep took many years off of her weathered face. Though a creamy milk-white, her skin was parched from two weeks at sea on the journey back from Centra and though she was only nineteen, Rinn already had a collection of scars that riddled her body from head to toe.

A SeeD of rank twenty-four, it was only expected that she would have been marred by her training and the many missions already under her belt. She was no different to any other mercenary of the rank, albeit the fact that she was a good five years younger than most of the others of her stature, ten years younger than some. There wasn’t anything exceptional about Rinn, except for the fact that she was the commander’s daughter. The sole offspring of Squall and Rinoa Leonhart, she had been living the life of a mercenary almost since she could walk. Born in the infirmary of the Garden and raised for the most part within its walls, it was only expected that as the daughter of the commander she would go far in the SeeD program. By age eleven, she was enrolled as a student at the Garden, already working towards as her career as an elite mercenary: A SeeD cadet. Like her father, she specialized in the use of the gunblade, and like her father she was known as a cold and stoic warrior by the time she was in her mid teens. A perfect mixture of her parents, people often remarked. A spitting image of her mother on the outside, and yet so absurdly like her father as far as her personality went.

Cold, antisocial, taciturn, stoic, aloof, proud and haughty were only some of the adjectives used to describe the child prodigy. Accomplished in practical and theoretical learning and wise in the ways of the world, Rinn was well and truly mature beyond her years. Though, people wondered, what else was to be expected from Squall Leonhart’s daughter?

Rinn was an enigma to most who encountered her. Both impressed and confused by her, they wondered exactly what she wanted from life. As far as the gossip network went, she was cold and awful, and yet still managed to maintain both steady friendships and a relatively steady flow of male admirers. Rinn was certainly not bad-looking, but she was certainly not social or affectionate. So, people wondered, what exactly did her friends and admirers see in her?

If ever one wanted to inquire as to the nature of the allure the silent prodigy held, Callum Kinneas would be the ideal subject to interrogate on the matter. Both a friend and an admirer, five-thirty in the morning saw the nineteen-year-old sat up in bed, leaning against a mass of pillows while balancing a laptop on his crossed legs.

His fingers flew across the keyboard, and the letters ‘ckinn17’ appeared in the username field of the Balamb Garden email homepage. He proceeded to enter his password, ‘432994668R’.

‘Welcome back, Callum’, the homepage greeted him. Callum hit the link to his inbox and looked sceptically at the highlighted new message. The subject line read ‘FW: FW: FW: would u do this? u probably wouldnt.’

Sighing, he clicked the message and rubbed his hands over his face as he waited for the page to load.

would u do this? u probably wouldnt. would you take a bullet for someone u love? ur girlfriend boyfriend best friend or just someone u care about? if u would then forward this to at least 7 people with the subject ‘would u do this? u probably wouldnt.’

if u send this to 7 people you will get kissed called or asked out by the person u love by midnight tomorrow. if u ignore this or delete this u will have bad luck forever and die in the next 3 years. if u send this to 1 person u will have bad luck and die in the next 6 years. if u send this to 2 people…

Callum grimaced and shook his head, already running his finger over the touchpad. Going to delete it? You bet he was. He’d seen it all before, and all his inbox seemed to consist of these days was spammy forwards. He glanced at the sender and snorted. Leila Kinneas. Of course it would be his sister. His eyes flickered unwillingly to the recipients, counting them as he went.

‘Rinn Leonhart’ , ‘Edward Dincht’ , ‘Bella Almasy’ , ‘Sierra Hunter’ , ‘Marlene McKinnon’ , ‘Dad and Mum’ , ‘Callum’

Seven, naturally. Leila was the type to get sucked in by that sort of rubbish. Not that he actually thought she believed it, just that she was the sort to send on meaningless stuff like that ‘just in case’. After all, you never knew what kind of thing some twelve-year-old kids in downtown Timber were capable of these days. Thermo tracking nukes? No problem. Never mind that they couldn’t afford to put a roof over their heads.

‘Are you sure you want to delete this message?’ a popup box queried.

His eyes flickered up at the prompt box before he tapped he mouse pad viciously.

‘Message deleted.’

If indeed anyone had asked him what he saw in Corinne Julia Leonhart, he probably wouldn’t have been able to explain how he felt about her. Happily infatuated by the black-haired girl, his answer would have been that he loved everything about her. Such a response probably wouldn’t have done much good as far as understanding her allure went, but it would have clarified quite a few things as far as his sentiments toward her went. To her credit, she was incredibly loyal, determined, cool-headed and hard-working. Although obstinacy and pride were two of her failings, when she warmed to someone she was as kind-hearted and caring as anyone could hope to be.

The problem was: How to get her to warm up? It had never been done to the knowledge of anyone in the Garden. Little did anybody know that times were about to change over the course of a few years, and when the revolution was over, nobody would be quite the same.

[Tiger Lily]

Back to Basics
Chapter One
Motion

Seven o’clock a.m. saw Rinn Leonhart hunched over her computer, sitting on a creaky swivel chair in a crumpled set of bed clothes consisting of blue-grey track pants and a grey tank top. Her feet were covered by once-white once-fluffy slippers. It was clear by her decidedly bedraggled appearance, drained face and bags under her eyes that she had not long gotten out of bed. She chewed on her lower lip as she waited for her email inbox to load, fiddling with her long charcoal black hair as she did so.

‘Welcome back, Corinne’, the email homepage proclaimed. She grimaced, thinking once again of how she hated her name and flicked her eyes towards the sidebar menu.

Inbox (1)
Draft
Bulk
Spam (19)
Sentbox
Favourites
Archive

She clicked on inbox, once again ignoring the build-up of spam that had been accumulating while she was in Centra. Leila had sent her something entitled ‘FW: FW: FW: would u do this? u probably wouldnt.’ Even the subject reeked of spam, Rinn thought as she clicked it absently. She read over the first couple of sentences and sighed. When would rubbish like this stop circulating the Garden? And were people really stupid enough to believe this sort of thing? she wondered. Any forward that told people they’d die if they didn’t send it on should be taken with a pinch of salt, as far as Rinn was concerned. A really big pinch. Maybe two.

Control + A. Control + C. She hit compose.

To: ‘Dad’
Cc:
Subject: Spam email, AGAIN.

Control + V.

Dad, she wrote,

Can you send a warning to everyone that’s on the forward list? I’m sick of this stuff spamming my email. Maybe block forwarding on their accounts?

Rinn.

She mashed the ‘send’ button belligerently and waited for it to come up with the ‘message sent’ page and then closed the internet browser. Seven o’clock was far too early to concentrate on anything on a weekday, never mind a Saturday. Instead, she opened the start menu and found her instant messenger. Her email address was set to remember, so she quickly keyed in her password (which, oddly enough, was ‘panadol’) and leaned back with her eyes closed as she waited for it to sign in.

Online (2) >

.:. tHe PeN iS MiGHtiEr tHan ThE swOrD .:. - and ive used bth hehehe (Away)
Callum (Away) – Blargh.

Offline (17) >

.:Alanna:. - Rinn and Caaaaaaaallum. -runs-
Lily - “GF theory? ...I can’t remember any of it! I’m totally going to fail. I’m more of a prac person anyway.” Lol, Casey!
Skye - Are you emo? Want to cry? Dincht Weaponry is for you.
Bella
Ed - hearts Leila.
Irvine
James
Laurie
Leila - hearts Ed.
Marlene
Quistis
Noa 
Seifer
Selphie! - Boom. =D
Sierra - so i herd u liek ochuz Why yes, yes I do. Medium rare – with extra gravy. =D
Squall.
Zell

She cracked an eye open and peered at the first name on her ‘Online’ list. It was a few seconds before she worked out to whom it belonged. Rinn’s grandpa Laguna, as far as she was concerned, was a monster when it came to the internet. She grimaced reproachfully at his childish display name and personal message, shaking her head with woe. Thank goodness he was on ‘Away’, she thought, or she’d have to talk to him and endure his typing – typing that showcased his utter lack of regard for grammar or spelling. Seemingly, the seventy-year-old man thought that ignoring any form of educated English made him ‘hip’ or ‘trendy’ or whatever it was that older people thought younger people were and that they, too, ought to be. She rubbed her hand over the right side of her face and narrowed her eyes as she noticed Alanna’s personal message. Her brow creased and she felt her mouth twist into a bitter scowl as she bit the inside of her lip.

As if the entire populace of the Garden weren’t obsessed enough as it was with the spitefully fabricated notion that she, Rinn, and Callum were an ‘item’ without his little sister condoning the rumours. Not that she ought to be angry; Alanna was only a child after all. At fifteen years old, she wasn’t nearly as grown up as she would like to think she was. Alanna knew that the talk was just talk – she just liked teasing her brother and her all-but-sister. No reason for Rinn to get worked up at all. Still, she couldn’t help the bristling annoyance that was welling up inside her. Her childish side felt a reckless desire to scream or smash something while her mature, more detached side told her venomously that she was overreacting – stop being such a child! Rinn closed her eyes, controlling her breathing carefully as she relaxed her jaw and tried not to grit her teeth in spite. Calm down, she told herself. Calm down – this isn’t anything to get angry about. She inhaled deeply before opening her eyes and calmly closing the lid of her laptop. As she heard the whirring of the drives beginning to put it into standby mode, the familiar bleep of her instant messaging program sounded. Must have forgotten to sign out, she thought dully and opened the lid of her computer. The toast in the bottom right hand corner of the screen heralded Callum’s initiation of a conversation. She clicked the window on the taskbar.

Callum says: You still want to come to the Training Centre this evening?
Rinn says: What time?
Callum says: Seven.
Rinn says: Who’s going?
Callum says: Er, let’s see.
Callum says: You, me, Leila, Sierra. I think Marlene was talking about going too, but she has to pack for Galbadia so she isn’t sure.
Callum says: Oh, and maybe Kirel. But he might be going out with Asher tonight. Alanna was talking about how she wnated to come, but I don’t know…

The mention of his sister’s name made Rinn bristle again. The little minx! And Callum was considering letting her come along with them, after the humiliation Alanna had subjected she, Rinn, to? Fat chance. Alanna would be staying in her dorm, right where she belonged, if Rinn had anything to say about it. (Which she did.)

Rinn says: Speaking of Alanna – please take the time to kill her at the next opportune moment.
Callum says: wanted*
Callum says: Huh?
Rinn says: Did you SEE her personal message?
Callum says: Yeah.
Rinn says: And?!
Callum says: What about it?
Rinn says: You KNOW how they’re talking already – I certainly DON’T need her encouraging them.
Callum says: Oh, come on Rinn. You know no one takes that stuff seriously.

Her eyes flashed, livid with fury. Why was he taking Alanna’s side? Surely he ought to be as angry about the rumours as she was! She closed the instant messenger with peerless belligerence and snapped the lid of her laptop down, fuming.

Callum says: Rinn?
This message could not be delivered to all recipients: Rinn?
Callum says: Are you there, Rinn?
This message could not be delivered to all recipients: Are you there, Rinn?
Rinn is now offline.

How could he be so complacent? Oh, her childish self snapped, of course he wouldn’t care! It wasn’t his reputation that was on the line and it certainly wasn’t him that would be known as ‘easy’ if gossip got too much out of hand. Her older, mature self amended that it wasn’t a big deal, and she was the stupid one for making it out to be one. To the casual observer, Corinne Leonhart was simply very, very annoyed at the untruths projected by Garden gossip. To a more scrupulous observer, she was a prime example of the old reprimand “Methinks she doth protest too much”. Rinn sighed and closed her eyes, her eyebrows pulled down in a fierce scowl. She stood up a little too violently and had to catch herself on the edge of her desk to regain her balance.

Rinn moved over to her large, rectangular mirror and examined her face carefully, before following her nose out to the kitchen of the small four-bedroom dorm that she had elected to share with Leila Kinneas, Marlene McKinnon and Sierra Hunter rather than keep her single residence in the dormitory complex. She made the decision to share after three years of living in a single unit largely because Leila nagged her about it almost every waking minute, and because Rinn figured that she could get out of a fair deal of domestic torture if there were other people to share the chores with. As it was, Rinn did the washing up for each meal while Leila was in charge of keeping all the surfaces clean; Marlene was responsible for the washing and ironing of everyone’s clothes while Sierra cooked everyone’s meals. This morning, Sierra was to be found in front of the stove, peering into a frying pan at something that smelt very much like a pancakes.

- - -

Rinn padded into the kitchen, her waist-length hair swinging behind her in a thick charcoal plait while her fringe hung messily by her cheekbones. Her slippers were silent on the linoleum floor; the result when she said “Good morning” to Sierra was that the redhead jerked and dropped her spatula. She bent down and grabbed the handle, scowling at Rinn as she stood up.

“Morning,” she said grudgingly and turned back to her pancakes. A small stack of perhaps five sat on a chipped plate near the stove.

Rinn folded her arms and sauntered closer, rubbing her hands slowly up and down over her upper arms. The silver ring called Griever that bore the head of a lion on one half and an angel’s wing on the other was cold on the middle finger of her right hand. She watched the light glance off of it at different angles as she flexed her fingers over her left arm. Coming to Sierra on her right side, she flicked her eyes from her ring to the contents of the frying pan; a large, slightly misshapen pancake sat in the middle of it. It was just beginning to form the deep bubbles in the centre and firm up around the edges.

“’Scuse,” muttered Sierra as she angled her arm so that she could flip the pancake easily. Rinn obliged and stepped backwards, watching the redheaded cook as she tossed the concoction into the air with a graceful expertise that can only be learned from practice – persistence until the technique became as natural as breathing. Sierra scrutinized the pancake to make sure it wasn’t rising too quickly before turning to Rinn.

“I’ve thought of something,” she informed the black-haired girl.

Rinn raised an eyebrow. “That’s a first. I shall write it in my little book of accomp-”

“Oh, shut up,” Sierra said scathingly.

Rinn said nothing, waiting for Sierra to go on.

“Remember how you said that I’d never be able to make you, Your Worshipfulness SeeD Cadet, Rank Twenty-Four, Miss Rinn Leonhart, jealous?”

Rinn grunted her vague recollection.

“Well, I’ve got it,” beamed the flaming haired SeeD.

“And exactly how are you going to make me jealous?”

“For me to know and you to find out. So, you think I can do it?” Sierra asked, grinning with the assurance of an actor who has delivered her lines a hundred times and knows exactly the reaction they will provoke in the audience and the expected retort from her colleague.

“Five hundred Gil that you can’t.”

Sierra raised her eyebrows. Five hundred had exceeded her hopes. “Two weeks?”

Rinn snorted. “You can have two months.”

The redhead flashed a grin and held out a hand which Rinn shook, a look of self-assured arrogance in her stone grey eyes.

Sierra locked eyes with Rinn for a few seconds before turning abruptly and skipping over to the large whiteboard the four girls had had installed when they first moved into the dormitory together – the whiteboard where the details of the many, many bets the girls had taken with each other were recorded. Under the details for the as-yet-unresolved ‘Sierra Will Burn Something Before Rinn Forgets to Wash Up’ (supported by all but Sierra), ‘You Would Break Your Hand If You Punched Callum Because His Head Is A Rock’ (supported by Leila and Rinn; opposed by Sierra and Marlene) and ‘Leila Will Be Married Before She Is Twenty-One’ (supported by all but Leila), Sierra was scrawling the title of her newest wager, ‘Sierra Will Make Rinn Jealous of Her’, along with the appropriate timeframes and amounts bet.

“What’s going on?” Rinn jumped and turned to her right, to see that Leila had appeared silently beside her.

“Sierra and I just bet that she couldn’t make me jealous of her within two months,” Rinn informed Leila.

“For and against?”

“Should be obvious.”

Leila, pyjamaed like Rinn was, bounced forwards and took the whiteboard marker from the hand of Sierra who had just stood up. She crouched down to the bottom of the scribble-filled board and put a large tick in purple marker in the column in which she was to record her support or opposition. Seemingly she was confident of Sierra’s ability to make Rinn envious. Leila’s nose twitched as she sniffed the air around her.

“Do you smell something off?” she asked Rinn as she snapped the lid back on the whiteboard marker. Rinn, brow already creased from wondering what Sierra could possibly be planning, grunted her accord. Just as she did so, a strident, blaring beep resonated from the fire alarm, situated just above the stove. The three girls gasped and spun to face the appliance that was causing the squalling alarm to sound and saw a thick, opaque cloud of black smoke rising from the frying pan. Sierra groaned and ran over to the smouldering remains of what had once been a pancake as the fire sprinklers that Headmistress Xu had had installed six months ago came on; the result was the scorching pan emitting a violent hiss. Sierra jumped back with a yelp.

“Whuzzat?” queried Marlene, who had just appeared at the doorway, her sandy blonde hair messy and bedraggled. She was clad in too-small baby-pink sweatpants, a baggy blue t shirt and calf-high tan ugg boots; she had obviously just gotten out of bed.

Leila pointed mutely at the doused remains of breakfast; Rinn was crouched by the whiteboard, scribbling the finalities on the bet entitled ‘Sierra Will Burn Something Before Rinn Forgets to Wash Up’. The defeated cook turned to see her scrawling on the board and groaned again.

As Rinn finished and replaced the marker’s lid, the three girls rounded on their debtor, their eyes glinting victoriously. Rinn held out her hand, smiling innocently. “Two hundred Gil, please.”

“Times three,” Marlene deemed it appropriate to chime in.

Sierra looked around at the three expectant hands being held out to her. “Aw, crap,” she lamented.

- - -

NOTE:: Lily and James were named after Harry Potter's parents, not Craven and I. Hell, when I named them I didn't know Craven and I wasn't Lily. Ed was named after Edward from Fullmetal Alchemist.

All names that relate to actual people are purely coincidental. Except Callum. He's named after my cousin. Unless there are cameos happening, obviously. I know I've already got two to three cameos written into later chapters.

Anyway. Adieu.