FFVI - Locke, World of Ruin
Aug. 30th, 2010 07:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lirillithTitle: After the Fall
Fandom: Final Fantasy VI
Character: Locke
Length: 329 words
I wasn't entirely happy with this, but in accordance with the 15minuteficlets rules, didn't want to make any changes. This was posted in November 2005.
****
It took him a while to work out what was bothering him. It was nothing. There was nothing there; from dawn through a night of fitful sleep, he heard nothing at all but the sound of his own footsteps.
Locke was a city boy at heart. Kohlingen hadn't been a large city compared against Nikeah or South Figaro, let alone Vector, but he'd lived in the central business district, and once he left at twenty he'd never stayed more than a night in a town smaller than his birthplace. He was used to noise in the streets - cart wheels on the cobbles, the singing or shouts or occasional yells of pain from drunken revelers, depending on what kind of drunks they were. He was used to chocobo calls, voices, music from the neighbors' phonograph or the crash of crockery when they were fighting. He was used to traveling by train where he could or chocobo failing that, when he traveled alone, but for the year or so previous he'd been traveling with company. He was used to another person or two breathing in the tent, to voices outside, the crackle of a campfire, or to the constant dull roar of the airship's engines.
Now, he never even heard birds. Sometimes the plants snagged at his legs or the mosquito on his arm would suddenly grow enormous, but even then any noise he heard, and any response he felt, seemed muted. In the ghost world Kefka had bestowed on them, he sometimes began to wonder if he'd imagined the people he thought he'd seen in Jidoor, the boat that brought him over. He began kicking pebbles just to hear the noise, talking to himself just so he could be sure he hadn't gone deaf. He thanked the heavens, as if they cared, for windy days, because the wind rustled the grass and blew sand in his eyes and helped him remember life, and a time when the world worked.
Fandom: Final Fantasy VI
Character: Locke
Length: 329 words
I wasn't entirely happy with this, but in accordance with the 15minuteficlets rules, didn't want to make any changes. This was posted in November 2005.
****
It took him a while to work out what was bothering him. It was nothing. There was nothing there; from dawn through a night of fitful sleep, he heard nothing at all but the sound of his own footsteps.
Locke was a city boy at heart. Kohlingen hadn't been a large city compared against Nikeah or South Figaro, let alone Vector, but he'd lived in the central business district, and once he left at twenty he'd never stayed more than a night in a town smaller than his birthplace. He was used to noise in the streets - cart wheels on the cobbles, the singing or shouts or occasional yells of pain from drunken revelers, depending on what kind of drunks they were. He was used to chocobo calls, voices, music from the neighbors' phonograph or the crash of crockery when they were fighting. He was used to traveling by train where he could or chocobo failing that, when he traveled alone, but for the year or so previous he'd been traveling with company. He was used to another person or two breathing in the tent, to voices outside, the crackle of a campfire, or to the constant dull roar of the airship's engines.
Now, he never even heard birds. Sometimes the plants snagged at his legs or the mosquito on his arm would suddenly grow enormous, but even then any noise he heard, and any response he felt, seemed muted. In the ghost world Kefka had bestowed on them, he sometimes began to wonder if he'd imagined the people he thought he'd seen in Jidoor, the boat that brought him over. He began kicking pebbles just to hear the noise, talking to himself just so he could be sure he hadn't gone deaf. He thanked the heavens, as if they cared, for windy days, because the wind rustled the grass and blew sand in his eyes and helped him remember life, and a time when the world worked.
