CLASH! Of Genres//S T O R Y

[Zidane Tribal]

This is NOT for a contest. It was going to be, but then it got too long for a short story.

I will state right off the back, the accent of Fang’s I have no idea how to write out. So please, as I attempt to figure it out (seeing as I’ve never played much of FFXIII – I’m pretty much winging it at the moment WITHOUT looking at ANY of Fang’s posts). Needless to say, Fang’s speech will be almost “complete” instead of “slurs” or whatever you want to call it. Plus, if I got any character personalities wrong, I will do my best to correct in the future.

This will get funnier as the story progresses, as of right now – I am trying to set up a basic idea; breaking down some ‘groups’, which future chapters will be based around. Again; I am sorry in advanced. Hope no one kills me. ^/////^

NOT every chapter will be this long, nor boring. There is plans of drunken Aqua, shirtless Terra, ect. So please wait~♥♥
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Date: June 10^th
Time: 11:39AM
Location: Midgar, the slums
Destination: Twilight Town
Comments: It appears we've set out to a concert in Twilight Town. I'm nervous, and excited, over this whole deal! A group of us are meeting up with other friends, and we're going to stay somewhere for the weekend. Everything seems fine, right? Well, erm, there is one problem: our ride, though quiet as he is, takes on the personality as if we drive him off the wall. I know he means well, but - it's scary to see a to-be senior on the edge - right after school lets out and all, maybe Sephiroth shouldn't have put this responsibility on him...

”Hey! Did you finally finish working yet?!” The not-so-noticeable complaint hit the stale, dusty, air. ”It’s irritating! Being stuck in this dump! C’mon already and fix it!” A combat boot smashed against the vehicle’s front bumper, as Kadaj forced his weight on the left foot; eyes peering into the engine, nearly watering as heat made contact with his sensitive eyes. ”I thought you were a bad boy. Dressed and leather and all! Last I checked bad boys knew things about vehicles! Got to say, you really are a poser!”

An audible snarl erupted as Kadaj flinched, as the lion’s scowl was directed upon the feral kitten. Squall had enough of this shit; stuck taking this sarcastic mouth (who, oddly enough, wore leather and couldn't figure out what happened to the vehicle). The crystalline blue eyes had narrowed to the point of slits, focusing all his will power not to beat the hell out of the other feline-like teen. ”If you don’t want your ass to be kicked, Kadaj, then I would advise you to shut up.”

With that, the lion returned his gaze to the engine. Truth be told, the solution was quite easy, seeing as the engine had merely overheated. Meaning he’d simply had to add some more coolant, once the temperature was safe enough to apply said coolant, of course. The brunette brows formed a ‘v’, disfiguring the scar as Squall’s own patience had grown thin; waiting for the engine to cool was nerve wrecking, mainly with a snot-nosed Kadaj who wouldn’t shut up. Speak of the devil, the younger teen’s jaw had just twitched, meaning: 3…2…

”How much longer?” …1. ”Well?” You promised Sephiroth you wouldn’t kill him, Squall. A huff of impatience. ”Well?!” A twitch of the brunette’s brow, as Kadaj entwined his arms over his chest. I regret ever making such a deal. Promises were meant to be broken after all. ”Squall! I’m asking you a question! I demand an answer!” And I demand to see you as a bloody pulp. Before Kadaj could spat out another complain, or before Squall could throw his first punch, a female’s voice interrupted them.

“M-Mister Leonhart how is the engine?” Spoke the brunette as she advanced, precautious as always, as she stumbled over her words. With that, the loner’s previous anger melted; though the only expression Scara received was flat lined. Though he’d honestly admit, he wasn’t great with children; Scara, despite being a teenager, had innocence like a child, and he found he could handle her personality. Perhaps the lion was growing a soft spot through all his high school years. Okay, we all know that was a lie. Once an ass; was always an ass. Giving her a curt nod, his way of stating ‘It’s fine’, before the lion managed to throw a punch at the platinum haired teen; a yelp would shortly follow in the warm atmosphere.

Scara had shifted uncomfortably, clasping a journal closer to her chest, as a flush tinted her face. Squall always had her nervous; his aloof personality left an air of mystery around him, that she couldn’t grasp. No, she never had a crush on loners but instead she preferred the cheeky kind. She would instantly blink, looking around the immediate area, before sighing in defeat. Just where did the blonde, sky blue eyes, boy go to this time? The brunette’s eyelashes would flutter shut, as she would speak in a hush. “Zidane, you better be near…I don’t think I could make Squall come back for you.”

“Then I gotta start thinkin’ on how to keep up with the car then.” With that, the school’s kleptomaniac would swipe the journal; jumping back just out of Scara’s reach, Zidane would have the book open, skimming over briefly. “Anything ‘bout me in here, huh?” Once Scara would flush a deep rose, Zidane would simply hand back the journal; a lopsided, smug, grin held firmly to his lips. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’! Pretty girls do like the thieves, don’t they?”

Scara would catch the book, though almost dropping it between her fingers, before she would let out a screech. “I-I never s-said..!” As Zidane sheepishly threw his hands behind his neck, leaning back ever slightly; Scara would inhale. He was the kind she found adorable. Minus the thieving, that would be nice. “Z-Zidane! Y-you shouldn’t steal or look through a lady’s journal..!”

A pause, as Zidane thought over her statement, before releasing a chuckle. “kay, I won’t go through your diary.” Before Scara could protest, two motorcycle engines roared within the humid air. Zidane tilted his head to the left, letting blonde hair sway over his eyes. Scara blinked, confusion flooding her chocolate irises; before her gaze adverted to a click, as someone flipped an object shut.

Said object was a slick, brand new, cellphone; black and white checkers as a protective cover. The palm which held the mobile device was sun kissed, and contrasted against more checkers. A sigh erupted from the plump, tea rose, lips. Cerulean eyes casted their gaze over to the group, as a hand slipped into brown and black cargo pants; simply discarding the phone in the large pocket. Roxas’ lips fell ever slightly, before his attention went to the oldest of the group. “Squall. I called for help, hope you don’t mind.”

By this point, Squall’s full attention was upon the vehicles advancing in their direction. Instincts were on full alert as sapphire eyes narrowed once more, for he knew those engines anywhere. Custom made, by one famous coral haired female; a woman whom Squall had relationships with, though she was older by a few. However, that was before she found her true calling, referring to her soul mate. How did he miss it, he would never know; he was torn, half wanting to see her and wanting to punch Roxas for daring to call for help. Squall never wanted pity, mainly with the car he knew how to take care of.

Sure enough, the motorcycles began to slow before coming to a halt almost instantly. One rider kept on their bike, the engine humming almost impatient-like. The other, once the bike was firmly stance, had a combat boot kick up dust; as the feminine rider forced herself off the seat. “Squall, honestly, you needing my help seems rather pathetic. Don’t you think?” A cold, calculating, voice would ring out as the woman removed her helmet. Shaking her hair, letting light coral locks dance, before she came to a halt next to Squall. “Sad, seeing as I taught you everything you know.”

“Lightning,” Squall would state curtly, before returning his eyes to the car. “It only overheated.” For the second time in the same day, a boot was shoved against the front bumper; as Lightning took a closer inspection of the car. With a slight huff, did she kick off the car, while giving a retort, “So it seems that way Squall.”

Copper coloured boots fell against the dust, as Lightning rounded the car; her spring green irises skimming over each tire with precision. Once the inspection was done, the woman turned on her heels, placing her right hand to her hip; half-gloved fingers inches away from her copper coloured skirt. “If that was all, why did you have Roxas call me? Don’t tell me you were clueless on how to fix this, Squall. Honestly, you’re still helpless like a kitten if you do.”

Scara would gasp at such words, Zidane would stand with jaw a gape, Roxas wouldn’t dare breathe, Kadaj let his eyes grow wide as his jaw would drop. Each one expecting a different outcome: from Scara who feared she’d have to heal an injured fighter, to Kadaj and Zidane which both would love to watch a brawl, to Roxas who – well – wouldn’t care much either way. Tension had filled the air, as all eyes would fall to Squall, whom had yet to usher another statement. To Scara’s hope, but to the two out of three boy’s disproval, the lion held his typical static expression; only sign of anger was a tighten jaw. Though venom held, the expression never fell. “I never need aid from others. Roxas had called, not me.”

Silence fell, as the two locked eyes; green striking against sapphire. Lips had fell on both, as each were feeling up the opponent; observing for signs of weakness, distress, or a millisecond of a distraction. Tension so thick it could be cut with a butter knife, up until an Australian accent had piped up. “C’mon already, Light, just give ‘em the antifreeze and go.”

“Fang,” Lightning would give a swift nod. “You’re right. After all, we’re going to miss Ke$ha at this rate.”

With that, a container was tossed to the brunette lion; as a swift smile was casted at Squall. “Try not needing my help. See you at the show this weekend.” Swiftly as she had gotten off, Lightning was perched on the seat; twisting the key to start the engine. “Later.” A half wave of her index and pointer, did both Fang and Lightning speed off into the direction of Twilight Town. Leaving a trail of dust on the group; causing four coughing fits to erupt shortly after the action.

***

Kadaj had crossed his arms, eyes peering out the dull scenery passing. “Key-sha?” He would ponder out loud, attempting to pronounce the name. “Is that the concert we’re going to see?”

“I- I don’t believe so,” Scara would reply, head nodding; forcing back sleep from such a day. Ever since the brawl, the tension had taken its toll. Her chocolate orbs would focus on Roxas, already hazily gazing forward, half asleep. As the spike-blonde would nod in and out, the blonde sitting next to him would let out a heartwarming chuckle.

“Nah, we’re not gonna see her.” Scara would let her eyes flutter in confusion. “Really, Zidane?”

“Yep! Since we’re obviously gonna go see Lady Gaga for sure!” Instantly were the brakes struck, as Squall nearly rammed his foot through the metal husk; the car screeching to a halt on the back road. Instantly did the lion veer his attention to the monkey; sky blue eyes dilated, sclera dominating over the iris as sapphire eyes narrowed. His body twisting halfway around the clothed car chair; as a hand shot out to grasp the blonde’s head by his hair, which was knotted in a tuft between leather bound fingers.

The hiss was distinct, as Squall’s words came out on edge. “Answer me this, Zidane. Why would I be taking you to a Lady Gaga concert? Since I’m clearly I’m going as well.”

Comments: Like I said. I think we all drive Squall off the wall… As of right now, with us stopped like this, I wonder if we’ll ever make it to the concert. Erm, in one piece, that is. Squall may hurt us all I fear…
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Cliff hanger much~? ♥
Not only that. ^o~ What band/artist/group do YOU want them to see?