I am a general; don't ever forget (Active / Open)

[generalfloozy.livejournal.com]

Characters: Celes and anyone who feels like helping out a grumpy ex-general
Content: Celes comes through the gate and finds herself in a very strange place
Setting: Close to the Vanaheim Gate
Time: midday
Warnings: TBA


Celes' hand gripped the remains of the bandana around the dove's neck as she lay there. Sopping wet from her jump off the cliffs and into the water, and her subsequent float through the water to the shore just in front of the cottage where Grandpa had taken care of her for so long, the blonde-haired woman probably looked like a mess, wherever she had landed. The dove was gone now and she could tell she was no longer on the beach on that little island, but she really had no clue where she was.

Taking a deep breath, she sat up and began to wring the water out of her hair. Every inch of her was still wet and she smelled like salt water, which really couldn't be helped much considering the fact that she'd just come out of a nice long swim in the ocean. Holding herself together, somehow, she sat there for a moment before she dared to glance around. Where on earth was she?

With any luck, someone would show up. With more luck, they'd have a way for her to dry off. She would, for now, try not to use her magic, as she wasn't sure who would be open-minded enough to accept her magic and not run screaming from her. The War of the Magi had really damaged the peoples' view of magic. Well that and the Empire now.

Celes sighed wearily and let her eyes close for a brief moment. She needed to get her bearings, and no matter what, she had to put Grandpa behind her. As much as she missed him, he was gone. There was no changing that. 

Comments

[withwingstofly.livejournal.com]

"How do I know?" Setzer asked, bending down to pick up the dropped arm warmer and offering it back to Celes. "Simple. I saw it, and what I didn't I heard from other people."

There were a few advantages to having spent a year in a bar, where anyone could and frequently did drown their troubles in drink. And more often then not, that came with passing the story on to those who cared to hear. And most who'd managed to survive Kefka's attacks (if you could be charitable enough to call them that instead of massacres) were often more than willing to complain about Kefka, the Light of Judgment, and Kefka's tower.

"I've heard stories of people starting to call it 'the World of Ruin,' even."

[generalfloozy.livejournal.com]

The blonde's hand reached out to take the arm warmer with a murmured, "thank you," before returning to squeezing the water out of it. She supposed he could have been awake during that year that she was asleep. It would have made perfect sense and she wouldn't have even known she'd slept off an entire year had Grandpa not said anything. The idea was still mind-boggling.

"The World of Ruin? I guess that's what we get, then..."

She paused for a moment, thinking back to what he had told her already. "Is anyone else here?" she asked, bypassing the 'where are we' that was on the tip of her tongue.