This chapter is still longer than the last! Gah! Oh, and all of the results are always going to be different. Always. Which is why this takes so long xD But it’ll get faster, since I hate introductions . . . they’re always awkward, and limit the interaction between characters. Anyway, do enjoy, and since the results are all different, they have different bits and pieces of information. It wouldn’t hurt to read them all, hmm? . . . I swear, each chapter is going to be a major feat if they keep being written this long.
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Morning rolled around with the absence of the patter of drizzle on the glass pane, and you were awoken by a knock upon your door. As you rolled over you could certainly say that the sky was much brighter than it had been the day before. You clamped your eyes shut to stretch the unused eyelids and rolled onto your back once again, circling your shoulders as you sat up.
“Who is it?” You asked curtly. It wasn’t snarky, of course, but you didn’t feel much like waking up at the moment.
“It’s Ansem, _(Name)_. Would it be alright if I intruded on your domain?” There was a joking tone to his voice as you slipped out from under the covers. You’d changed into your mint green hospital garb the night before, and you had to admit it was quite comfortable for sleepwear.
“Yeah, you can come in, Ansem.” You walked towards the door as it slid open, showing an all powerful looking Ansem on the other side. It only took a moment for his eyes to land upon your sauntering form, and he took the liberty of stepping into the room so the doors could close behind him. You noticed that a small, sleek parcel was propped under one of his arms.
“I hope I didn’t wake you, my dear. I brought you a change of clothes so we could be off as soon as possible.”
The man took the parcel out from under his arm and handed it to you, which you generously took with a smile of thanks while politely responding, “It’s alright, you didn’t wake me, I was just daydreaming. But I’m just wondering, where exactly are we going?”
An all knowing smile settled upon Ansem, “I’ll be taking you to the Guardian Corps headquarters today. That way, I will be able to tell you all we know quite comfortably. I’ll let you change first, and then we’ll be off.”
He left the room, and you turned to plop the parcel upon your unmade bed. You began to think a bit more as you opened the white box and started to pull on a simple long sleeved _(colour)_ blouse. You had managed to recall a few more things from your memory, such as things you had liked, places you had been, family members and a few events. But it was all to an extent, and you were never able to completely recall a specific thing, other than your name and birth date. You were tempted to start knocking on your forehead – remember something, brain!! Something that won’t leave me even more stumped than I was before!
Sighing in agitation, you leant down and pulled a pair of long, boot cut jeans up your legs, buttoning them upon your hips. They were slightly baggy around your waist, so you took the liberty of slipping on the leather belt. There, much better.
A pair of _(colour)_ sandals and two hair ties was all that was left in the box, so you were quick with sliding on the shoes which were, once again, slightly big. Well, better spacey than no room at all. Whether you put your hair into a ponytail, pigtails or left it down was up to you.
You gently put the lid back upon the box and made your way to the door, knocking a couple times before watching them open. Ansem regarded you for a moment, “My apologies if they are not to your liking, I had to guess as to what you would be easiest for you to walk around in.”
“I understand, you’re being so kind just by bothering to put so much work into it.” You smiled sheepishly in thanks once again, following as Ansem began to leave.
“Of course, I realize how hard it must be to be put in such a . . . predicament. It’s a whole new world for you to adapt to, and you have no people to rely on. However, you should not fret. I have taken it upon myself to keep you safe.”
Oh, how sweet of him to do so. He really was a father figure, wasn’t he?
“You’re very kind to do so, Ansem. Thank you very much.”
“It is no problem at all, _(Name)_.”
The two of you continued your trek throughout the Hospital, and you found yourself on a large platform outside one of the higher levels of the building after an elevator ride and a few winding halls. The platform was for commercial use, you could discern, since it had been souped up to give off a nice appearance, with a few pathways lined with vibrant green foliage leading from the doors out onto a large patio of concrete. The whole thing was probably one hundred or so metres in diameter. At that moment, a large, sleek helicopter with an insignia consisting of cursive script, the letters ‘GC’, was perched on the platform. A gruff looking man was leaning against the cockpit, arms cross as he watched Ansem and yourself traverse the pathway towards him, cigarette being twiddled between his teeth.
“There ‘ya are, Ansem. I was wondering what was takin’ you and the young one so long.”
Your brows creased, and the blonde man stood to his full height as you neared, “I’ll have you know I’m in my twenties, thanks.”
The man grinned, and Ansem chuckled as he stepped up behind you, “That’s young in anyone’s book, my dear.”
You pursed your lips as you sighed, “Fine, fine, I suppose you’re right.”
They both laughed this time, and Ansem continued to introduce the two of you, “Now, this here is Cid Highwind. I’ve known him for more years than I can remember, and he is a good friend of mine. Cid, I’m sure you know who this is.”
“_(Name)_. Nice to finally meet you, little lady. I’ll have to apologise for Sora tackling you yesterday, the boy gets a bit exited when it comes to his job.” He laughed heartily, extending a hand for you to shake, which you did.
“Aha, so you heard about that.”
“Sure did. Don’t worry though; I won’t think any less of you for being taken down by such a small twerp.”
You laughed at the humour in his voice. He hadn’t said it spitefully – in fact, he sounded very fond of the young brunette. He was very well known, wasn’t he?
“Alright, I think we should get going before it gets too far into the day. I would feel better knowing that _(Name)_ here got something hearty to eat.”
You nodded, not voicing one single complaint. You would feel a lot better yourself, having something to eat. Cid heaved the doors open the side of the chopper, revealing a sleek, black leather interface of seats and luxuries. Such is the life of someone with power like Ansem. Cid held out a tough hand, and you thankfully took it, having the blonde man heave you into the compartment of the copter. Once you had shuffled into one of the seats, Ansem took the one opposite you, “I suppose you have no recollection of riding in a helicopter in your past life, _(Name)_?”
You shook your head side to side, following Ansem’s movements as he began to buckle himself in, “No, not that I can remember. I hope I did, though, because it feels exciting.”
He laughed, and you chuckled at your own child-like statement. Well, you had every right to say what you did, because Cid had closed the doors and was now sitting in the cockpit in front of you, hands flicking switches and igniting the engine. The helicopter began to steadily rise off the ground, and you quickly took to peering out the window beside you, a wide smile stretching across your face as you spied the city from such a position. You were surprised that you couldn’t hear much of anything from the beating blades of the copter, but you supposed that since you were so far into the future, technology would exist to make a soundproof compartment. But, that was one thing to be happy about – you didn’t have to wear those large, uncomfortable, leathery headphones.
Your brows creased. That was odd – you could clearly recall the feeling of irritatingly itchy headphones on your head. Maybe you had ridden in a helicopter in your past life?
The chopper began tilting forwards, and the whole vehicle began to move, circling around the building and heading deeper into the city. Tall pillars of glass and concrete passed by, and you had the chance to gaze down at the tops of buildings. It was spectacular, to sum it up in one word.
“Is Cid a Key?” You asked slowly, shuffling so you were turned towards Ansem once again.
“No, he is not. However, he does work under me as my top pilot. He is firstly my private escort in such cases as this,” he gestured about the compartment, “but when not needed, he insists on going into the heat of battle to support the Keys and various soldiers.”
You nodded, understanding how he must feel. Certainly, if you were a skilled pilot, you wouldn’t want your talents to go to waste. It was a quiet ride until you finally came to a building that seemed to call out from the rest. Well no wonder, since it was three times the thickness of all the rest, and was definitely considered one of the taller ones.
Cid steered the copter so that it rose to a specifically wide, short platform jutting out from the side of the building. As the chopper neared the platform, an incredibly large door similar to that of one from a garage began to climb open, allowing Cid to gently hover the copter into a warehouse of flying, military vehicles. You almost gaped at the sight, amazed at the immense amount of military equipment surrounding you. There were multiple levels surrounding you, lined with helicopters, and rows across the flooring made of fighter jets.
You could feel the jerk of the helicopter landing -- albeit gently, you were still glad to have kept your seatbelt buckled. A few people in tan uniforms seemed to swarm towards the landed helicopter as the blades began to hush, though one stood out from the rest. She was a woman about your age, from what you could tell, who had a proud and proper stride, her right hand resting on some sort of blade that was neatly tucked into a black case hanging off her belt. You could see Cid hop out of the cockpit, and you quickly unbuckled yourself to follow Ansem as he opened the door. He stepped down onto the metal grating, and you followed his lead, standing next to him as Cid began talking with a few other soldiers, who were all dressed in standard uniform. However, the woman who approached you was dressed more formally. Yet, the thing that stood out the most to you was her light, pink hair. You squinted, tilting your head only slightly as she arrived to see if it was just a trick of the light. No, it didn’t seem like it.
“Sir, I am glad you arrived safely,” She then turned to you, wearing a polite smile that didn’t quite reach her cold eyes, but held no hostility, “I suppose you’re _(Name)_?”
“Yes, that’d be right.”
She nodded, introducing herself without missing a beat, “I am Sergeant Lightning, though Lightning is just fine in your case. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
“_(Name)_, Lightning is one of the Keys that contributes to leading the military faction of Guardian Corps.”
“Hm, that’s interesting.”
“Well, that’s only the start of it. You’re going to have to learn a lot. It’s only to be expected that most things have changed since your previous life on Earth. It has been a long time, after all.” Lightning laughed softly as you pulled a frown, “So what you’re saying is that I’m basically going to have to sit through another History class.”
“Well, it will be much more interesting from what you’ve learnt beforehand, I guarantee.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” You laughed, only to have Ansem briskly re-enter the conversation.
“I don’t mean to intrude. However, since the formalities are over, I’m very eager to hold a meeting in the conference hall.”
Lightning nodded, “Of course. Would you like me to gather the Keys?”
“No not all of them. Unfortunately, that would take too long. I would just like those within the building ranking from one to twenty-three. Also, would you mind organising a small meal for _(Name)_ to be brought to the conference hall?”
Lightning nodded and swiftly departed, gathering a few soldiers during her leave. Ansem then turned to you, “Come along then, _(Name)_. Once we get to the conference hall and introduce you to everyone we can thoroughly explain everything to you.”
And so you followed the older man, leaving the hanger as the large, garage-esque door slowly began to shut. You instantly noticed the high-tech vibe the halls gave off as you briskly walked to keep up with Ansem’s pace. He would occasionally nod and greet the soldiers you passed by, and after taking an elevator ride up a few floors, you came to some classic, hazy glass sliding doors. The familiarity of them almost made you tear up, to be honest.
“So, what happened to the high-tech metal doors?” You asked as the doors slid open, and you stepped in as Ansem began to reply, “The conference room is more for sho-“
A hand unexpectedly came rushing out from the corner of your vision, and your initial reaction was to squeak in surprise. However, your mouth never opened, and it was like an inbuilt response to reach up, grab the arm and pull it over your shoulder. The next second you were crouching over, pulling the body to which the arm belonged to over your back and flinging them to the ground. You placed a sandal clad foot onto the man’s back, pressing down in between his shoulder blades with enough force to disable him.
The room was engulfed in a thick blanket of silence, and you could sense a few pairs of eyes staring at your little scene, and you quickly stumbled back, letting out a few mumbles of shock.
“Uh, I-I don’t know what . . . I didn’t mean to. . . Sorry.”
A few people throughout the room burst out laughing, and you glanced up as one of them started speaking, “Man, Ven, you just got flipped. Literally!”
The blonde that you’d flung over your back wheezed out a cough as Ansem, quite comically, stepped over him without so much as a single glance. This seemed to restart the laughter, to the blonde’s chagrin. He rolled over onto his back and sat up, quickly looking up at you with a heated glare, only to have it melt off of his face and be replaced with a dumbfounded expression, “Uh, you’re not Axel.”
“Nope, I’m right here.” You turned around quickly to see a smirking redhead, whose hair had been spiked so much it really, honest to goodness, remind you of a porcupine. No doubt about it. Lightning was standing beside the redhead with a small grin of her own, “So we have a fighter, huh?”
“I’m not exactly sure.”
“Well you just whooped poor Ven’s butt, so I would say ‘yes’, yes you are.” A man with black hair crossed his arms with an amused attitude.
“I am thoroughly going to beat the living daylights out of you, Zack!” The blonde growled as he pushed himself up and off the floor.
“That’s enough, boys. Please take your seats while we wait for the rest of the Keys to arrive. _(Name)_, I believe there’s something on the table for you.” Ansem gestured towards the table and gently took his seat at the head of the table. Your gaze instantly landed on a small grey platter of food at the opposite end of the table to Ansem. You were quite happy about having something to eat, no doubt your stomach was completely empty, “Thank you, Ansem.”
Axel Conway
You were hesitant to make a move at first. After all, you were confused as to what had exactly happened. First of all, why in the world did someone try to drill a fist through your head? Second of all, how exactly did you know how to counter such a thing? You were dead set and sure about yelping in shock rather than flipping a grown man over your back. But the fact that you had done such a thing was perturbing. Thirdly, why wasn’t Ansem picking up on that small event? Maybe he was expecting something like that to happen at some point? Or maybe these kinds of things happened a lot and he was accustomed to them by now . . . that seemed very likely.
However, a grin set itself upon your face when the idea of food replaced your thoughts. You elegantly swooped down to sit in your seat, instantly taking hold of the juice popper and ripping off the straw, moving to pierce it through the silver foil. Drink first, eat later. You were incredibly thirsty, and a drink would fill up your stomach somewhat at the same time.
“Woah, you might want to slow down there, Ms. _(Name)_. Don’t want to choke, now do you?”
The crackling sound of slurping could be heard as you tilted your head to the right, eyes cast to your left to spy the same redhead that had entered with Lightning sit down beside you, a cocky and aloof expression adorning his face. Axel was his name, from what you had gathered. You pulled the straw from your lips and replied sceptically, “Well, I guess not.”
It was almost as if you were asking, ‘friend or foe?’. The redhead’s expression became a bit more suppressed and friendly, “Oh come on, I’m only trying to get you more comfortable.”
“Yes, just like the pervert you are, Porcupine.” You supposed it was Zack who made the comment, since you had collected a few names from the loud ordeal beforehand.
The redhead grumbled and refrained from making a snarky comeback and propped his elbow up on the table, head resting in his palm, “In any case, my name’s Axel Conway. Got it memorized?”
Your lips twitched into a small smile at the exchange, it was almost like a family here, you didn’t understand quite well as to why you were so afraid before, “Yeah, got it. I’m _(Name)_ _(Surname)_.”
“It’s nice to meet you, _(Name)_. Welcome to Hollow Bastion. You probably don’t know it, since it was built after you were conked out.”
“Mm, I wouldn’t know it even if it was built in my time.”
Axel quirked a brow, turning in his seat to face you and resting his elbows on his knees, “Oh? You’ve lost your memory?”
You nodded, leaning back in your seat and picking up a piece of dry toast, “Unfortunately. I mean, I remember a few memories, and of course the basics. But that’s it.”
He watched you shrug and he cocked his head to the side, “It’s gotta bother you, right? I know I’d be pretty ticked off if I couldn’t remember anything.”
You shook your head, “Nah, not really. I’ve only had to deal with it for a day, anyway. I’ll just let you know when it starts to annoy me and you can tell me ‘I told you so’.”
He laughed, waving his hand in the air, “Well, at least you’re taking it well!”
Hope Estheim
You were hesitant to make a move at first. After all, you were confused as to what had exactly happened. First of all, why in the world did someone try to drill a fist through your head? Second of all, how exactly did you know how to counter such a thing? You were dead set and sure about yelping in shock rather than flipping a grown man over your back. But the fact that you had done such a thing was perturbing. Thirdly, why wasn’t Ansem picking up on that small event? Maybe he was expecting something like that to happen at some point? Or maybe these kinds of things happened a lot and he was accustomed to them by now . . . that seemed very likely.
Pinching your lips to the side, you remembered that you had food to devour. Well, that wasn’t the most polite way of putting it, but you needed to eat, lest you faint from malnourishment. You slowly, almost timidly made your way through the rough waters of new territory as a few more people came by ones or two’s, pouring into the room and joining groups, chattering quietly and some gazing at you with curiosity. You felt so self-conscious, so many pairs of eyes were staring you down. You awkwardly lowered yourself into your seat, shuffling around a bit before finally settling. You glanced down the large, round desk to spot Ansem. He seemed nonchalant at the moment, and was busy flipping through paperwork that had conveniently popped up on his part of the extremely long oval shaped desk. Your gaze then fixed itself on the tray of food in front of you. Some slices of dry toast, and a juice box. Well, that wasn’t very creative at all, was it?
Your face dropped its expression and you moved to grab a triangle of toast. You were about to bite down on the point, but was distracted by the pair of faded aqua irises. I’m not going to get a break anytime soon, am I? You timidly brought your own _(e/c)_ hues to meet the ones across from you. A man about the same age as all of the other Keys that had been pouring into the room was watching you with curiosity. However, he seemed to dip his head a bit at the realisation of you having noticed him. Your lips quirked up at his bashfulness, “I’m sorry, but did you need something?”
He laughed a bit, lifting his head back up hesitantly, “No, uh, it’s just that I’m curious. I didn’t have the pleasure of helping Ansem and the other apprentices when you awoke” He trailed off, running a hand through his silver hair. Your brows furrowed a tad bit, though your smile still remained as you leant forward, “You’re an apprentice?”
He nodded, suddenly eager, “Yes! However, I was busy here at the time you were awoken. I’m just very curious about the state you’re in, is all. It’s not every day you get to meet someone who’s come from the past.”
You laughed a bit, leaning back in your seat, feeling a wave of relief wash over you, “Well, I’m sorry to say I can’t remember much of anything.”
“Ah, that’s a shame.”
It was quiet for a moment before he began to stumble on his words, “U-Uh, I’m sorry, I didn’t introduce myself. My name’s Hope Estheim.”
He smiled while standing and extending his arm over the desk for a handshake. Your stood and did the same, shaking his hand gently while speaking, “I’m _(Name)_ _(Surname)_.”
Neku Sakuraba
You were hesitant to make a move at first. After all, you were confused as to what had exactly happened. First of all, why in the world did someone try to drill a fist through your head? Second of all, how exactly did you know how to counter such a thing? You were dead set and sure about yelping in shock rather than flipping a grown man over your back. But the fact that you had done such a thing was perturbing. Thirdly, why wasn’t Ansem picking up on that small event? Maybe he was expecting something like that to happen at some point? Or maybe these kinds of things happened a lot and he was accustomed to them by now . . . that seemed very likely.
You grumpily shuffled past all of the people, irritated and uncomfortable at the large amount of individuals surrounding you. Ugh, you must not have been much of a person for crowds. That’s a bit unfortunate, since it would leave you handicapped for the moment. You plopped down into your seat, swivelling your head to gaze at the people who sat at the table. Not many of them were paying you any mind at the moment, all sucked into their own world. They knew they would learn more about you in the very near future. Sighing, you put both of your palms on the edges of the table, gazing down at the six triangles of dry toast and lone juice box. Your expression dulled – what a drab meal. You supposed it would take a while longer until you were allowed to receive a proper plate of food, something that would satisfy your tastebuds.
“Don’t tell me you don’t like toast.”
Your head shot up at such a rate you almost became dizzy. Almost. A young man with vibrant orange hair had his chin set upon his right palm, his elbow upon the table and seated a few empty chairs down from you. His hair was covered by a pair of indigo headphones, and you had to wonder why exactly that was. You furrowed one eyebrow, “It’s not that. I mean, you’d want to have a tasty meal , wouldn’t you? After being pretty much dead for . . . three hundred years, was it?”
His expression changed slightly, from dull to somewhat surprised within a single moment. He didn’t think you’d react in such a way to his almost rude comment, “Well, I guess.”
You shook your head, “Sorry, that was a bit blunt. I, uh, from what I can remember, I wasn’t really much of a people person.”
He slowly got up from his seat, marching down the gap between the both of you and sitting down in the chair beside you, “No, that’s okay. To tell you the truth, I don’t like talking to others all that much either.”
And he didn’t. But he almost felt obliged to try and keep you from shutting out the rest of them. No one else was making the effort to talk to you.
You gave off an amused harrumph, “You’re talking to me now, aren’t you?”
The orange haired man averted his gaze to the wall across from the both of you, “Only because you look like you need the company.”
“And you’re the judge of that?”
Offended, he turned to make a curt remark, but stopped short at the grin on your face. He calmed down and sighed, turning back to gaze at the wall, “No, I’m not. If you want me to leave, just say so.”
You gave him a wry smile and turned to look forward as well, taking a bite out of a triangle of toast, “Nah, I think you should stay.”
“Neku Sakuraba.”
“Hm, I’m _(Name)_ _(Surname)_.”
Vanitas Clough
You were hesitant to make a move at first. After all, you were confused as to what had exactly happened. First of all, why in the world did someone try to drill a fist through your head? Second of all, how exactly did you know how to counter such a thing? You were dead set and sure about yelping in shock rather than flipping a grown man over your back. But the fact that you had done such a thing was perturbing. Thirdly, why wasn’t Ansem picking up on that small event? Maybe he was expecting something like that to happen at some point? Or maybe these kinds of things happened a lot and he was accustomed to them by now . . . that seemed very likely.
You made a simple beeline for the chair across the table from Ansem after your little mulling session. There was no time to think about such things when there was food to satisfy your hunger. Wasting no time, you swiftly plopped down into your seat and picked up a triangle of dry toast, the warm, crumbly texture a nice feeling on your fingers. You took a few bites and made to open up the juice box. However, you paused at the feel of someone watching you. Instantly, you whipped your head up to strike your eyes across the room. Nothing.
No one had their eyes on you, except for Ansem. Though, it only seemed he was looking out of curiosity for your sharp movements. He had a questioning gaze, and you shook your head, indicating that nothing was wrong. You glanced down again, opening your popper properly now and sipping at the straw. And then you could feel those eyes on you again. Either you were going crazy, or you now had a stalker. Swivelled your head and losing the straw at the same time, you squinted around the room. Nothing. Zip, zilch, nada.
“What’s got you so riled up?”
You were glad that every chair stationed around the table could swivel, because you would have fallen out of your seat at the speed you turned. The young man before you had his arms crossed, his black hair disarray as he peered out from underneath his fringe with sickly yellow hues. He didn’t seem to have any kind intentions. If anything, he looked pretty annoyed.
Humming, you decided to answer his question with another, “Do you ever feel like you’re being watched?”
His scowl had turned into a confused frown after that, and you waited for an answer.
“No.”
Your blank expression changed to a teasing one, a tone to match as you replied, “Well that’s a stubborn answer. Everyone feels like that at some point in their lives.”
His temper seemed to flare, his scowl coming back full force, “Don’t belittle me, woman. Why did you bother asking if you were going to say something like that?”
“I was trying to make a conversation, since it’s the polite thing to do, however way you go about it. It looks like it’s working, doesn’t it?”
His taut stature and face seemed to waver for a moment before he snarled and stormed off, “Pathetic.”
“Hey, before you go,” It almost looked like he wasn’t going to stop, but he did, and turned to you with an indignant frown, “what’s your name?”
“Vanitas Clough.” And he continued to storm off, pushing through the few people that stood in his way, appearing as a demon from Hell, even though his short stature said otherwise. Whew, that was certainly an interesting first impression.
Ventus Freist
You were hesitant to make a move at first. After all, you were confused as to what had exactly happened. First of all, why in the world did someone try to drill a fist through your head? Second of all, how exactly did you know how to counter such a thing? You were dead set and sure about yelping in shock rather than flipping a grown man over your back. But the fact that you had done such a thing was perturbing. Thirdly, why wasn’t Ansem picking up on that small event? Maybe he was expecting something like that to happen at some point? Or maybe these kinds of things happened a lot and he was accustomed to them by now . . . that seemed very likely.
You nervously put a hand to the nape of your neck, avoiding your _(h/c)_ hair and pursing your lips as you slowly made your way to the large table. You were quite embarrassed after that little spiel, and a bit unsure on how to react. You almost jumped out of your skin when a hand snagged at your idle arm, causing you to halt in your trek to a full stomach. You turned to see the boy from before, Ven, with an apologetic smile, “I just wanted to say sorry, for before. If I had known you weren’t Axel, then, uh, you know.”
He was trying his best to pierce through the awkward atmosphere, and you had to give him credit for the attempt. You gently tugged your arm out of his, and his face became hot at the realisation he’d still been holding onto your forearm, “S-Sorry.”
You almost chuckled, “You don’t have to apologise so much. I forgive you, Ven, was it?”
His awkward persona seemed to clear away a bit when he’d heard that you’d forgiven him, “Uh, yeah. I’m Ventus Freist. But Ven is just fine.”
He held out a hand for you to shake, and you did so, firmly taking hold of his palm, “_(Name)_ _(Surname)_. It’s nice to meet you.”
He reclined his hand, “So you’re the new girl, huh? You woke up from a pretty long stasis. Aren’t you feeling a bit . . . culture shocked?”
You gazed around the room, spotting a few rowdy groups of mostly males, since the girls seemed to huddle by themselves in quieter groups, “Hah, not really, no. I mean, everything looks very high tech and futuristic, but culture wise, I haven’t seen much of a difference.”
“That’s weird. . . How long were you in stasis, exactly? All I know is that it was a long time. But that could mean anything from ten to a hundred years.”
“About three hundred, if you had to round it off.”
“You seem pretty calm about it.”
You blinked, tilting your head to stare at a blank wall for a moment of thought, “Yeah. . . I think I had my freaking out session yesterday. There’s no point in dwelling on it, since it would be a bit annoying. Uh, you don’t mind if we sit down to talk, do you?”
He shook his head, “No, that’s fine.”
Zack Fair
You were hesitant to make a move at first. After all, you were confused as to what had exactly happened. First of all, why in the world did someone try to drill a fist through your head? Second of all, how exactly did you know how to counter such a thing? You were dead set and sure about yelping in shock rather than flipping a grown man over your back. But the fact that you had done such a thing was perturbing. Thirdly, why wasn’t Ansem picking up on that small event? Maybe he was expecting something like that to happen at some point? Or maybe these kinds of things happened a lot and he was accustomed to them by now . . . that seemed very likely.
You started to take small steps towards the table, a calm atmosphere emanating from your being. Well, that wasn’t completely true. You were a still a bit confused about what had actually happened, but you weren’t too fussed. Better to move on than to dwell on things. Halfway through your trek, the guy you were passing at the time accidently backed up into you, gently bumping your left shoulder. You quickly stepped away as the young man turned to apologize, “Sorry, I- oh, hey newbie!”
“Ah, hi?”
He laughed at your awkward reply, “You don’t need to be so tense, Miss. _(Name)_. We’re like a big family here, so you don’t have to be scared. Ah, well, except for Vanitas and the Apprentices. Though, Hope and Ven are harmless.”
“You do know that I only know two of those people, right?”
You could only assume he was talking about Zexion and Vincent when he mentioned the apprentices. However, they didn’t seem all that intimidating. If that was the case, then there wasn’t any need to be afraid. Well, maybe except for this Vanitas person.
“Hah, right. I forget that you’re not only new to just HQ. You only really need to look out for Vanitas, but I’m just thinking off the top of my head. My name’s Zack Fair, by the way.”
“_(Name)_ _(Surname)_, it’s great to meet you.”
“So, you don’t know much about the Keys, huh?”
You shook your head, “Just that they’re basically the safe keepers of Earth. Which, I guess, means that it’s an honour to be talking to you right now?”
He laughed almost bashfully, “Nah, not really. I mean, yeah, sure, if you want to look at it that way, but there are a lot of us, so we get around. Besides, I never wanted to be a celebrity; I just want to keep people safe.”
You crossed your arms, “That’s very admirable. So, what rank are you?”
“Huh?”
“Sorry, I just assumed you had some kind of . . . ranking system?”
His dumbstruck look faded as you explained, but you were having trouble keeping your laughter in. This man was very expressive.
“You’re right. I just didn’t expect you to ask a question like that. Uh, most of us here are ranked from one to twenty. We’re ranked according to when we joined. For me, I’m four on the list.”
You quirked a brow, “So it has nothing to do with skill?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say that,” He smirked, imitating your position and crossing his own arms, “I’m still pretty skilled at fighting. The ones that are ranked higher are generally more skilled anyway, since we’ve had more experience.”
You shook your head in mirth, moving to leave, “If you say so.”
“Hey, where are you going?”
“Well, I was originally going to go eat. I don’t want to let my food get too cold, you know.”
You could barely, just barely see his face fall at your comment. In return you ‘barely, just barely’ felt guilty. You comically exaggerated a defeated shoulder-slump, and a large sigh, “Okay, alright, I’ll let you talk as long as you want, if you follow me so I can go eat.”