#ff13week

“They last longer,” Vanille explained while they were searching through Oerba for anything that could be useful. Nights on Gran Pulse were pitch black, a shade that Hope had never encountered before and much darker than anything he could have ever imagined, darker than closing his eyes and trying to shut out all light. Cocoon was always bright, even at nighttime (compared to Gran Pulse, anyway), while the planet below was... To be honest, it was somewhat terrifying, especially the first night they had to spend down in the Mah’habara, where even the brightness of stars couldn’t seep through the layers of earth. As none of the Cocoon born l’Cie could sleep without a slight illumination, there had always been a few embers left for the one standing guard. Fires would burn too bright and attract too much attention, yet no one outside of Fang and Vanille could feel comfortable enough to drift to sleep in the complete dark. The orange-haired girl was holding up a milky wax candle, smiling as Hope followed along behind her, arms full of broken wood from old furniture and whatever supplies he could scavenge: oils and gears, trinkets and ropes. If it had lasted the hundreds of years, it should be sturdy enough for whatever they might need it for... right? “And it’s not too bright; not like the fires you always build.” There was a teasing tone in her voice, and Hope could feel his cheeks heat up despite the roll of his eyes. “If we could find a few more of these, we’d be able to save our fire spells for when we really need it. Casting magic all night isn’t good for you, you know! It’s bound to drain your energy even if you don’t think it does.” “It’s not like we cast all the time,” Hope mumbled in protest, still a bit embarrassed by her teasing. “It needs something to burn.” They reached the old and rusted house which had been their base for the past day quick enough, having been tasked with searching the houses closest to their hideout while the others went a little further out. Hope pretended that he didn’t understand the motivations behind that decision, not liking to linger on the thought of being treated like a child. “Well, at least you know not to burn wet wood now!” Vanille agreed enthusiastically. “Was that really your first time building a fire?” They pushed through the doorway, Vanille bouncing in and announcing their presence cheerfully while Hope lingered behind a bit to close the door quietly around the bundle in his arms. No one else had gotten back yet, but he hadn’t expected any of them to when they would have had further to go. “Kids aren’t supposed to play around with fire,” Hope explained as they set their loot down at a corner of the room, spreading it out on the rickety desk. “And where would I have gotten a chance?” He leaned in to examine the candles that Vanille had found scattered through the premises, though, curious. It wasn’t that he hadn’t seen candles before— his mom liked them and would burn one from time to time, although he never really understood why. Maybe it was just something she liked because it looked nice, or maybe it was just a girl thing. “The candles could be useful,” he conceded, “do you think we should go looking for more?” “I’m sure there will be more around if we need it,” Vanille responded mysteriously. “Everyone had some, you know. Just in case of a power outage.” It was a concept Hope might have had a hard time comprehending a while ago, since power never went out on Cocoon. He wouldn’t have been able to imagine a time without power... except with the journey down to Pulse, the group had to survive without any sort of power for the past several nights already, and his imagination had enough to work with that he could see the scenario where that might occur. “I thought they were just for decoration.” He admitted somewhat reluctantly. Vanille’s smile brightened at his admission, and Hope couldn’t help but smile back. “Well, everything around here has a purpose, you know! Even if it just looks pretty, it was also really useful in certain situations.” Maybe that was the thing on Cocoon— because they had been protected from just about... everything, they had forgotten the use of items. “And even things people don’t really think useful,” Vanille admitted in a quieter voice, looking just a bit abashed. “For traditions and such. Sometimes people lit candles to light the way home for those who were lost, or for the loved ones that they miss.” She placed the candles down on the table to the side of all the metal pieces that Hope had gathered, and sat next to him on the bench, elbows on the table with her hands supporting her chin in a rather girlish manner. Hope held his breath as her arm brushed against his, quelling the urge to squirm in his seat as her heat permeated through his sleeves and side. “Sometimes you could see a sea of candles,” she said, voice hushed as if sharing some great secret, her smile turning soft and wistful. “During the nights dedicated to the fallen warriors. It always looked like a miracle... little lights flickering on pathways and stairs and in windows, so their spirits could follow the glow home.” Hope wondered how that would look like. Maybe something like the Parade of Lights in Nautilus? But those lights looked different from this. There was no flickering, no wavering and swaying under the slightest breath. He would have scoffed before at the thought of lights bringing in spirits, but paying attention to the candle before him, Hope could believe it. Vanille must have noticed his silence, because she squirmed to the side and brought over two untouched candles, smiling brightly at him before handing him a long and tapered milky stick. “It’s a good thing we’re up in the buildings.” She said brightly as he curled his fingers over the candle. “Cie’th don’t really care about light, anyway, so we can actually burn as many of these as we want. No animals to attract, see?” Hope nodded dumbly, wondering where she was going with that. He had assumed that earlier, with how enthusiastic Vanille had gotten and the amount of candles she had picked up. She handed one of the candles to him, and he accepted with a murmured thanks, although he didn’t quite know why. “Sometimes,” Vanille told him, bringing up one of the smaller sticks that they had salvaged, and began carving something into the base of the candle she was holding. “We would use these to remember the dead. Not to guide their souls back, but to show them that we’re thinking of them still. Those times, we carve names in the candles. Just so they would know it’s for them.” She lifted the wax candle and blew carefully at the bits she carved off, then turned and smiled at him. “I’m sure the others won’t mind if we light a few more.” Vanille leaned to brush shoulder to shoulder with him, and offered the stick. Hope hesitated, an unnamed emotion thick in his throat as he studied the thin branch with the smoothed bark and crooked points, one in particular filed to a point. He knew what she was saying, understood that she was trying to offer him comfort in her own way. But he wasn’t sure he wanted it, not when he had been doing so well to not think upon the events. Focus on the what was in front of him. Keep his concentration on the battles, on the journey, on keeping alive and keeping up with everyone else. That was what got him through the days down on Pulse. (He didn’t want to think about his mom, or his dad, or what happened in Palumpolum or anything else. Just one foot in front of the other.) Seeing his hesitation, Vanille reached over to press the stick (more a twig than anything else) into his palm, and then curled his fingers over it, dropping her own unlit candle in her lap. Hope marveled at the warmth of her hands, at the strength in her slender fingers against his own. “It’s okay if you don’t want to light it.” She told him, tone gentle. “It’s okay to not think about it at all.” “I know.” He said, and looked up from the stick at her again, this time smiling. Even if he had a hard time thinking back, Hope wasn’t going to upset Vanille if he could help it. He didn’t like seeing her upset, and if doing this would make her happy, then… well, it would make it easier for him. He took a quick breath and forced his mind to blank even as he carved out the letters of his mom’s name in shaky blocks, fingers feeling stiff and unwieldy. Vanille hummed happily in response and turned her attention away (probably to give him a little bit or privacy) as she dipped her candle wick into the tiny flame of the already lit candle. She stayed seated next to him the entire time, however, holding her own candle steadily while she lent him the warmth (the courage) to continue. He looked outside the window after he was done, eyes catching the russet colors of sunset and the lingering warmth of the day. The night will be cold, he knows, and the others would be back soon with parts and with food to combat the coolness of the evening air. They would all huddle up together in one room, the room Vanille had chosen for them, speaking and laughing and warding off the chill, the past, the future. Hope would fall asleep against someone’s shoulder or side, close to the fire and close to the others to draw in their warmth. But for right now, before the others got back, Hope would light a candle with his mom’s name carved on the bottom, and let the glow both illuminate the way home for the others and travel the distance to wherever she was now, telling her just how much he missed her.

This was… not what Lightning expected when she resolved to go up against Anima. “What the hell?!” Snow yowled, stepping in circles for a moment to take in everyone and everything that just happened. Lake Bresha was completely frozen over into crystal, and everywhere they looked was a glittering blue and white. But more than that… “What just happened? What’s going on? Is this some sort of punishment? What the hell!” “Shut up!” Lightning snapped back at him, feeling a headache starting to form just from having to listen to his voice. It was all Snow’s fault anyway that they got mixed up in this (while she wouldn’t deny her own involvement, it would have been so much easier, so much simpler, if he hadn’t followed and led the entire group… and where had they come from? Into this mess), and she was having no more of it. “Is this some twisted fal’Cie thing?” Snow demanded, ignoring her completely as he examined himself. “I thought they made l’Cies! No one said anything about this!” That was it. Lightning hissed, bracing herself before springing forward to tackle Snow head-on, sending the both of them rolling in circles as the others watched, far too cautious to try and interrupt their fight. Snow yowled again and tried to bat her off, but Lightning managed to get a good grip on him with her claws, her ears folded down even as her tail lashed back and forth in agitation. To the side, Sazh sighed audibly and lowered his head, covering his eyes with both paws in an attempt to drive out reality, while next to him a small orange tabby cat was draped half over a fluffy white kitten with her paws on his head, happily attempting to groom his ears while the kitten trembled in fear at the entire situation. — “Think of it this way,” Sazh attempted to cheer her up. “At least none of the soldiers tried to stop us.” Lightning just hissed low in displeasure, feeling her claws extending and retracting with her irritation every step she took. She would rather have fought those soldiers, would rather have taken an entire squadron on rather than just walk past them as they were doing now, merely two of the armored men hesitating for just a moment to give them a strange look. It turns out that no one could hear them talk at all, and one particularly tactile PSICOM almost lost his hand attempting to pet her. She and Sazh were leading the group now that they were all introduced and admitted to having the same dream — the same Focus, of all things because the fal’Cie must be off their rockers if they thought that a group of cats of all things would be able to take down the entire planet — while Vanille and Hope stuck close together in the middle and Snow brought up the rear of the group, still fuming and nursing the long scratches she gave him earlier (and damned if she wasn’t proud of that still). There was another group of PSICOM coming their way, this time a small group of three, and Lightning felt her hackles raise more as one of them stopped and actually started cooing at the ‘family of cats’. That’s it, she thought darkly, and then once against braced herself low to the ground, feeling for her center of gravity as her spine slid into place for a jump. “Oh, no — c’mon, soldier girl, there’s no need to get violent—” Sazh broke off as he watched Lightning launch herself from the crystal all the way up to the soldier’s helmet, claws leaving long lacerations in the metal (far more than any ordinary cat could possibly do) as the soldier dropped his gun in shock, flailing and screaming trying to get the pink cat off his face. He took a moment to brace himself as well, feeling entirely too resigned to his situation (he was too damned old for this), and then followed suit, already seeing Snow come running up from behind him to do the same. The three PSICOM soldiers didn’t last long against the l’Cie cats, especially when Lightning started to figure out that she could do magical damage in this form as well. — They left Snow to stay with Serah’s crystal as the rest of the group continued on their sojourn while slowly discovering the abilities they had been gifted with. Speed and flexibility came with the form, but they also had strength like no other and magical abilities to take down to most fearsome of enemies. It must have been humiliating, Sazh though vaguely, to see giant monsters taken down by a small herd of cats. ...Was it ‘herd’, though? Or group? He’d have to brush up on his vocabulary, since he had never imagined himself in a situation where the proper terminology might apply to him. At least the chocobo chick was staying a good distance out of reach in the sky, seeing just how quickly Lightning’s claws tended to come into play. He didn’t want the poor bird to be accidental dinner if the soldier gave into their more feline instincts now. Sazh thought he had a rather good control over his own instincts. Heck, over the entire situation in general given that they were left in control at all. He hadn’t lost his temper, for one, nor had he allowed the situation to overwhelm him enough that he would lash out. Until now, that is. “Move!” Lightning was demanding from his side, attempting to use her (diminished) weight to shove him aside even as Sazh finally bared his fangs at her to stop. “Are you a pilot or am I?” He demanded. “Let me fly this thing in peace!” It was hard enough attempting to reach controls he previously had no troubles reaching, but now Sazh actually had to stand full body on top of the consoles in order to extend paws where they were supposed to go, his claws extended to cling onto the metal as the ship tumbled about trying to shake off their pursuers. “Everyone strap in, it’s going to be a hell of a bumpy ride!” He called out, only to hear Hope howl at the back of the ship as he fell from the seat and tumbled to the wall, crushed a second later by Vanille. “And here we goooooooo!” The airship burst out from the cliffs past the the assembled weapons right into the bright blue sky. — Lightning couldn’t help the bristling of her fur every time she heard Hope stumble behind her, attempting to scramble and hang onto the platforms she used as a springboard. It usually took him more than five attempts to make the jump, and she was sick of hearing his mewls of pain every time he tumbled back to the ground and had to jump again. At first she allowed him to follow her… well, mostly because she hadn’t allowed it but he had done so anyway. So she may have been a little nicer than she normally would have for anyone else following her, but she could feel her patience come to an end. As he once again tripped over his own paws, Lightning stopped and shook her head. “This isn’t going to work.” He was too slow, too small, and despite his powerful magic, was still just a kitten, really. It was almost depressing watching him attempt to clean his white fur of the muck that he usually got tangled up in while traversing the Vile Peaks. She was sick of his mewls (mostly because it made her heart twist and she couldn’t allow that when she was determined to storm the Sanctum, determined to bring down Eden even if she had to do so by herself), and sick of the hesitance in his voice when he asked her his endless questions. She just wanted to be left alone. Picking up after a kitten… that wasn’t what she wanted. She had a hard enough time keeping herself alive right now, much less…! When the giant Eidolon appeared, Lightning found herself almost in a state of shock. She might have frozen there in disbelief if the giant creature hadn’t aimed his sword at the tiny curled white kitten mewing pitifully. Maybe it was a sort of instinct that made her throw herself into the fray, made her dive right under the giant blade and grab Hope’s neck by her teeth, lifting him up and jumping as far away as she could. After the battle was over, Hope approached her hesitantly, ears flat against his skull and tail drooping behind him, hesitance nearly emanating from him in waves. “I’ll do better!” He stumbled over his own words, staring up at her with pale green eyes wide and luminescent in the night light, “I’ll try harder, I’ll—!” “Hope.” She interrupted, and then stopped. Seeing him now, watching him sniffle, small and pale against the dark background of the Vile Peaks, she realized she had been purposefully avoiding looking at him straight on. She hadn’t wanted to acknowledge that there was someone here who relied on her, and if she left him behind now, there was no doubt in her head he wouldn’t make it. Wouldn’t last a day, much less a week. She hesitated now, watching him stare down on the ground, and then reached out to nudge his head with her nose. “We’ll toughen you up.” She turned away in a graceful circle, embarrassed by her own sentimentality, and hurried away. She could, however, hear the burst of happiness and excitement in Hope’s movements as the kitten stumbled after her, more energetic now than he had been before. — “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Snow hissed and struggled in the woman’s grasp, but she had him firmly by the back of the neck, far enough away from her that his claws couldn’t get anywhere near her. “Don’t tell me this happened to Vanille, too.” The woman exclaimed, frowning. Snow stopped. “Wait. You know Vanille?” “And you know how to talk.” The woman responded, still not letting him down. Snow took in her darkened skin, her strange outfit and the grace she moved with as she carried him away from the crystal statue of Serah that the Guardian Corps was gathering up. “So you’re going to have to explain to me everything that happened, because I think there’s something I’m missing here.” The soldiers around them were staring strangely at them, and Snow wondered whether he should tell her that no one else could understand what he was saying. Maybe later, he thought somewhat vindictively. If she was going to keep carting him around by the back of the neck, then he damned well wasn’t going to tell her she was talking to a common animal like a crazy person. — They practically snuck through Palumpolum undetected, only having the avoid the children on the streets with hands that tended to grab onto Hope’s tail if he wasn’t fast enough. A good thing, though, Hope thought, as it meant PSICOM had no idea the l’Cie they were hunting for were right under their noses. They wouldn’t purge this city as well. The people here would be safe. Lightning told him earlier that she was going to take him home, going to take him back to his dad so that he could figure himself out, but he wondered vaguely still if it was because she wanted to leave him there. He knew, of course he knew, that currently he wasn’t in any way suited for battle. A wrongly placed human foot could crush him. But still… He hurried along after her, half running after her graceful steps when they met up with Snow again… and a human named Fang. Apparently there was some trouble (just a little, the woman laughed) following her, so Lightning had left Hope in Snow’s care and teamed up with the strange woman in order to take out their ‘little bit of trouble’. It was, Hope thought a little resentfully as Snow carried him around by the back of the neck (since the large and sleek cat had grinned at him and said it was just faster this way), just a little too convenient, wasn’t it? Convenient that Lightning would leave right before Hope got back home, convenient that it was Snow who would take him the last leg of the way when it everything that happened was entirely Snow’s fault in the first place. Not to mention, Hope thought darkly, that if Snow called him a ‘cute little kitten’ one more time, he was going to shove the older cat off a building. — Rygdea had to admit he didn’t wholly believe Fang when the woman told him point blank that the l’Cie the Sanctum were hunting for were really just a group of cats right now (herd?). But it was the solemn and infinitely careful way Bartholomew Estheim was holding onto a fluffy white kitten and shaking his head incredulously that finally had Rygdea believing (as opposed to the way the pink cat was actually using a survival knife to scratch out words on the metal of the Guardian Corps ship). “They say they’re going to take down the Palamecia.” Fang translated for the pink cat (who, according to them, was actually Sergeant Lightning Farron) after the broadcast about two l’Cie who had been captured and was going to be publically executed. “Those bastards aren’t going to do anything to Vanille if I have a say in it.” Rydgea just shook his head. He wasn’t going to go against the fierce woman if he could help it. “By the way,” Fang told him before he could leave, a gleam in her eyes. “You take the boys. I’ll take Sunshine here, and… clean them up a bit before we set off again, yeah?” Despite his very best efforts, Rygdea did not manage to get out of that battle without being entirely soaked and thick claw marks all up his arms (that little white kitten was terrifying), and two wet and entirely unimpressed cats who now hissed at him whenever he stepped too close to them. After that, he wasn’t very surprised by the news a day later stating that the Palamecia had gone down, and the Primarch was now MIA. — “Look,” Fang told them when the group first crash-landed on Gran Pulse. She had a hand to her temple in efforts to ease her budding headache just staring at the bunch. “Just… stay close to me, alright. Don’t go picking battles for the fun of it or anything. The beasties here will gobble you lot up in one bite and then continue on to find their mid-morning meal.” As impressed as she had been with their prowess during the siege of the Palamecia and against Barthandelus, Fang wasn’t looking forward to herding a group of cats across the monster infested plains of Gran Pulse. In response to her words, Lightning yawned and flicked one ear before she settled down for a quick nap in the sunlight, pulling Hope down with her until his head rested under hers. Vanille curled up against Sazh as Snow attempted to climb her sari for a higher resting place. Fang felt her headache intensify. This… really wasn’t going as planned. — A week later, a lot of close calls, and a healthy appreciation of not bugging the plant life anymore, the group made their way to Oerba and battled Barthandelus once again. They made their way back to Cocoon and managed to nearly cause several heart attacks on the racetrack as workers tried to save the cats who appeared out of nowhere, but ultimately landed in Eden without anyone the wiser. Now the only problem was actually sneaking into Edenhall, which might have been easy for the group except Fang’s presence would definitely raise some questions. “I’ll go.” Vanille offered cheerfully, cleaning a claw before she stretched and pointed her tail in the air. “Me and Hope can distract them while you guys sneak in first!” “Wait, what?” Hope protested, ears twitching. “Why me?” “You got a plan, Vanille?” Fang asked, quieting Hope with light pets under his chin, making the kitten purr as he relaxed. She found it was the best method to calm the entire group when whenever one or more were being rowdy. “Yup!” Vanille said, and then nudged Hope with her head. “C’mon, we’ve got an important job to do! Time to show them your skills, Hope.” As the two youngest made their way out into the public from where they were all previously hidden down a dark alleyway, Fang watched in awe as the crowd managed to meander after the little orange tabby cat playfully chasing after a mewling white kitten. Even stern businessmen in suits stopped and smiled at the pair, until nearly everyone was distracted by the beautifully tabby cat who was so friendly and would brush against hands in search for pets and the cute little kitten who fell over with the slightest nudge, mewling in high pitched tones and licking fingers. “Those two,” Lightning said while shaking her head even as the group moved into one of the most protected buildings in all of Cocoon virtually undetected. “It’s a really good thing they’re on our side.” — “You?” Orphan cried out as it rose into the air. “I am to be defeated by… just you?” “Not just me.” Fang pointed to the cats surrounding her, the lot of them hissing with their fur standing straight up. “Them as well. Don’t forget that.” She paused, and then shook her head, tightening her grip on her staff. “...And don’t ask me how, because I still don’t know just what I missed.” Honestly, after all creatures that the cats managed to fight off, Orphan was nothing but a goldfish in a jar to them. “It’s your own fault.” Fang told the creature as it died. “Turning them into cats. You could have at least had the dignity of dying by the combined powers of the human l’Cie you chose to do your bidding. But now you get to say that Cocoon was taken out by a herd of cats.” She paused, and then shrugged. “And me. Fang and a herd of cats. That’s one for the history books.”