[FF7: Veld Dragoon] Joe the Lion
Album: "Heroes" by David Bowie Claim: Veld Dragoon Characters: Veld, mentions of people Rating: PG-13 Summary: Veld needs a drink and some time alone. Notes: It's a strange song, but it fits.
"You need laid, short shit." Oh so it had stooped to this, had it?
"I've already gone through puberty kid." Veld snapped at his new partner. "When you grow some facial hair you'll understand.
Vincent had looked at him like a petulant child, but Veld figured that was mostly an act of sorts. Vincent was difficult. Thus far he was both invaluable as a Turk and frustrating as a person. Vincent was a smart kid, quiet, perhaps shy, at least at first.
And then he lashed out like a teenager, full of insults, anger and altogether annoying. Veld announced he was going to the bar and he expected the paperwork to be done. Vincent stopped the backtalk and nodded. He'd fight with Veld till the Aeons came down, but he would never not complete an order.
Joe the lion Went to the bar
Veld himself was barely old enough to drink, but people didn't stop him. This particular bar had been home to one of his twitches before. No one bothered him. The bartender knew he liked light beers, usually something Wutain. It was sitting in front of Veld's face before he opened his mouth.
"A couple of drinks on the house" The bartender smiled. "Haven't had much trouble since you kicked them guys around."
Veld pretended he cared and smiled. He took the beer away from the bar to avoid further conversation and sat himself at a booth in the corner. He could watch people through eyes of someone who had traded and dealt with them as objects.
Veld himself had no real ties to his own humanity. At least, that was how it usually was. He'd come to define himself by his twitches. Tally had broken through quite violently, he had scars from his own temper tantrums and from her he had learned order.
Oh order.
Veld had it until Vincent Valentine waltzed into the room. Now Veld knew he was never on the straight and narrow, at least sexually. Veld was currently engaged to a woman, and he didn't mind that much. Laura was safe. She was boring, and he'd knocked her up so it was only the right thing to do.
Veld tipped his bottle and drained it.
"Tell you who you are if you nail me to my car" Boy Thanks for hesitating This is the kiss off
The waitress brought him another without a word. He continued to watch the people and tried to focus on what bothered him so goddamn much about Vincent Valentine. Tally had given Veld a challenge and Veld was not going to fail at it.
So far, technically there was no failure. Vincent's scores were top of the books on everything, hell, the kid was the book. There was absolute mechanical perfection about him. Of course that fucking bothered Veld.
No human was so robotic. It was like there wasn't any fight in Vincent at all, unless Veld pushed for one. Veld had always liked puzzles, he wasn't perfect at them, but the little sense of accomplishment made him feel good once he'd completed one.
So he didn't strangle the life from the annoying kid. Mostly because he wanted to understand what made him agree to go through all the shit he was currently going through. It wasn't like the kid was dumb, his friends were all in college, and his father was a scientist.
If the tests were any indication, Vincent's problem was not that he was stupid. Another beer went and was replaced.
Of course if Veld's father had been the Grim Reaper, Veld would be an emotionally stunted jackass too, he wagered. The man expected perfection and it was eerie how he could clinically subject his own child to whatever the fuck made Vincent so sick half the time.
Boy Thanks for hesitating You'll never know the real story Just a couple of dreams You get up and sleep
Veld's attention turned to a couple necking in the corner. He watched the man's hand trace the woman's hip, lace into her hair and cup her breast as if no one were watching.
It made him sneer, but he didn't look away. To be that cheap and put on a show was not something Veld wanted to revisit for himself. Wutai, he recalled had at least distinction between people of class and its whores. Here both were dressed up too pretty.
You can buy god it's Monday Slither down the greasy pipe So far so good no one saw you Hobble over any freeway You will be like your dreams tonight
In Midgar the whores were queens and the queens treated like whores. Of course, he'd heard ShinRa say the same about most people. Princes, whores, queens and kings, they all rolled in the same shit in Midgar.
It wasn't that Veld thought he was better than any of him. Things that he did would disgust him later. Veld just didn't make excuses for the worst aspects of himself. Perhaps he'd seen worse, perhaps he'd seen better. He didn't like much of it all the same.
You get up and sleep You get up and sleep Joe the lion Made of iron
Few people held Veld's attention. Vincent was capable of that; he had good looks and vicious eyes. Shame he seemed to want to be an assassin. At first, Veld was certain it was a rather dramatic form of "slumming it".
It was a common pastime of rich teenagers in both Wutai and Midgar. They would flee to red light districts, party places and dance with death. If she let them go home, they would all brag about the scores they'd made or how brave they were.
They would fool themselves into thinking they understood absolutely anything about anyone.
Joe the lion Went to the bar A couple of drinks on the house an' he was A fortune teller he said "Nail me to my car and I'll tell you who you are"
Of course, the more he worked with Vincent the more he wondered if maybe the kid was taking this seriously. If he really felt he had no way out. That bothered Veld. He'd turned down a lot of Turk "hopefuls" because not only had Tally told him to be selective, Veld didn't like the idea of kids ruining their lives for a thrill.
Most people had other uses than cleanup. That was Veld's personal theory. They could be doctors, lawyers, bartenders, even hookers like he was starting to suspect the man, not the woman on his lap, was.
Joe the lion, yeah yeah Went to the bar, yeah yeah A couple of dreams and he was A fortune teller he said "Nail me to my car tell you who you are"
Killing people took something from a person. It replaced the world with Killer's Mentality. They all had it, some twisted form of a moral fiber that kept them from killing certain people a certain way. Cornelius, for example, refused to kill anyone without being hands on. He called it his way of respecting the dead.
Veld was far more complex than that. Different deaths for different people was how it always went. He wouldn't use his hands till he cared about a person. Laura, perhaps he could kill with his hands. Other people didn't mean as much. It was like fucking and sleeping.
Veld never fell asleep with anyone. Maybe that's why he didn't think he'd want to use his hands.
You get up and sleep The wind blows on your check The day laughs in your face I guess you'll buy a gun You'll buy it secondhand And you'll get up and sleep Joe the lion Made of iron Joe the lion Made of iron Joe the lion Made of iron Joe the lion Made of -