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FFVIII: Sense
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Pairing: None
Warnings: None
Rating: PG13
Summary: Irvine's first mission as a sniper. For the Irvine fanwork-a-thon.
Guns make sense to him. They pretty much always did, from square one. He didn't start out with a sniper rifle, but his instructor noticed he was a good shot with a steady hand and a good eye and took him outside to do some shooting with one and from then on, he was hooked. It was a whirlwind love affair that was pretty much bound to work out, since it also kept him nicely out of the main action and in a position to do a shocking amount of influence to situations.
The first time he went out on a mission was before he was even a SeeD, and before Squall Leonhart and co. turned up to whisk him away from his standard three-meals-two-classes-one-practice-session schedule. Martine was pretty up front about it.
"You're going to kill someone," he said, and Irvine figured that was blunt enough. "We'll provide you with special ammo and two people to accompany you and help you in any way you can. You're the team leader."
He hadn't protested, then, even though he hated the idea of being a team leader. If he hated the idea of killing, he wouldn't be a SeeD, but he had to admit to a twinge of conscience. He'd never heard of the guy Martine wanted removing, from what he could dig up in the hour he was given to prepare, the guy was pretty much a nobody.
He suspected Martine was using him for personal reasons, and because he was still a nobody in Galbadia Garden despite being the best shot they had, but as long as he got paid, Irvine figured that since he was a mercenary, he couldn't really complain. He was easy to silence, so he'd better not speak up in the first place.
One of his team was a pretty girl who stuck to him like a limpet the entire time. There he was, cleaning the gun, checking it, loading it, and she was watching him like a hawk. "Are you alright?"
He was proud to note that his hands weren't shaking and if he'd gone pale or blushed, she hadn't noticed. He found a good vantage point and settled himself down, letting the pretty girl distract him with her chatter and trying not to think about the split seconds he'd have, soon, too soon, in which to kill a man.
When he got back to Garden, mission accomplished, he slept with the girl, kicked her out of his room at dawn and spent the day in bed, alone. The next night, he went all the way out to Deling City for a drink, and spent three more days skipping class and hiding away.
Martine found him and told him he'd done a good job. He had to agree.
The gun itself was right for Irvine.
The job, not so much.
Pairing: None
Warnings: None
Rating: PG13
Summary: Irvine's first mission as a sniper. For the Irvine fanwork-a-thon.
Guns make sense to him. They pretty much always did, from square one. He didn't start out with a sniper rifle, but his instructor noticed he was a good shot with a steady hand and a good eye and took him outside to do some shooting with one and from then on, he was hooked. It was a whirlwind love affair that was pretty much bound to work out, since it also kept him nicely out of the main action and in a position to do a shocking amount of influence to situations.
The first time he went out on a mission was before he was even a SeeD, and before Squall Leonhart and co. turned up to whisk him away from his standard three-meals-two-classes-one-practice-session schedule. Martine was pretty up front about it.
"You're going to kill someone," he said, and Irvine figured that was blunt enough. "We'll provide you with special ammo and two people to accompany you and help you in any way you can. You're the team leader."
He hadn't protested, then, even though he hated the idea of being a team leader. If he hated the idea of killing, he wouldn't be a SeeD, but he had to admit to a twinge of conscience. He'd never heard of the guy Martine wanted removing, from what he could dig up in the hour he was given to prepare, the guy was pretty much a nobody.
He suspected Martine was using him for personal reasons, and because he was still a nobody in Galbadia Garden despite being the best shot they had, but as long as he got paid, Irvine figured that since he was a mercenary, he couldn't really complain. He was easy to silence, so he'd better not speak up in the first place.
One of his team was a pretty girl who stuck to him like a limpet the entire time. There he was, cleaning the gun, checking it, loading it, and she was watching him like a hawk. "Are you alright?"
He was proud to note that his hands weren't shaking and if he'd gone pale or blushed, she hadn't noticed. He found a good vantage point and settled himself down, letting the pretty girl distract him with her chatter and trying not to think about the split seconds he'd have, soon, too soon, in which to kill a man.
When he got back to Garden, mission accomplished, he slept with the girl, kicked her out of his room at dawn and spent the day in bed, alone. The next night, he went all the way out to Deling City for a drink, and spent three more days skipping class and hiding away.
Martine found him and told him he'd done a good job. He had to agree.
The gun itself was right for Irvine.
The job, not so much.