Yeah, that’s the feeling I get too, CG ^^;; And damn, why is it so boring to write it… sighs
Grah, grah, grah, I just can’t get going with the bloody riot 
Best way to get meself a push… do something else. Here’s some stuff for AFTER the riot.
<I>I took the road of least resistance
I had my game to play
I had the skill, and more - the hunger
Easy to get away
Pity the child with no such weapons</I>
-The American, “Pity the Child” from “Chess”
Gogo stifled a yawn, covering his mouth with his hand.
“Weakling…” Kerr absentmindedly muttered without looking up from the notes he was working on.
“Shut up and pass the coffee,” the mimic retorted, pinching the bridge of his nose.
His brother just snapped the fingers of his free hand, and the jug obediently slid over the table into Gogo's reach. Hardly looking up from the handwritten text he was reading he nearly missed the mug as he tried to pour himself another cup of the still warm though not hot liquid. Realizing the problem he finally managed to look up and did the reasonable thing to take one task at the time.
Siren couldn't help but chuckle slightly at the fuzziness in her friend's mind.
‘You really shouldn’t study like this,’ she almost fondly scolded.
‘Could do this easily before, getting rusty…’ Gogo murmured, sipping on the coffee.
‘You were much younger then, what are you now?’
The mimic paused for a moment, pretending to drink some more not to make Kerr wonder what he was doing. His mind talking with Siren currently went almost as slow as normal speech since he was getting rather tired.
‘What year is it?’ Gogo finally thought.
‘No idea, espers don’t count ages like humans do anymore,’ she replied.
‘Fine then, do you know how old Terra is?’
It was Siren's turn to pause at that.
‘She’s just turned nineteen, I believe,’ she finally said.
‘Then we’re forty-one,’ Gogo concluded.
The esper glanced at the calmly writing Kerr and thought to herself that twenty-two was a terribly young age for committing blood treason. Then she made a second take on who she was considering and just shrugged off the first thought. In light of the culprit’s person, it was quite reasonable.
Gogo seemed to have forgotten the whole discussion as he turned the page and somewhat woozily frowned at the sight before him.
The page to the left was halfway filled with sprawled letters, typically Kerr to not bother with writing well. Mistakes were in the best cases simply crossed over, in other cases the madman impatiently wrote the correct letter over the bad once, making entire words unreadable. It didn't create a first-rate text for studies, especially not of delicate things like spells.
There was something different here, though. Normally Kerr just wrote a headline below the last paragraph when he started describing a new kind of magic, but the magic that followed the Ice spells had been given a page of its own. The handwriting was a lot more careful as well.
‘Hmm?’ Gogo thought, his eyes jumping from the continuity of the chill magic to the strange treat, ‘what’s…’
His brain finally caught up with what he read.
He nearly spat out his coffee across the table.
‘What now?’ Siren frowned while Kerr looked up in surprise.
She looked down at the page. And shrieked.
“Kerr!” Gogo rasped, tears almost forming in his eyes as he tried to cough the black liquid away from his breathing channels, “what the hell?!”
“Hmm?”
The mad brother stood and leaned across the board, starting to tilt his head in an attempt to read upside down. Apparently he recognized what he saw just by the way it was organized as he straightened up almost immediately, pursing his clean lips.
“Ah, that,” was the only comment.
“That’s all you have to say?” Gogo coughed, Siren shouting the same though she couldn’t be heard, “why have you researched this?!”
“Not as much researched as read through ancient scripts. I highly doubt it would work in any case,” Kerr replied, a bit too calmly.
Gogo had to take in a few deep breaths to calm down and stop coughing.
“Another one of Gestahl’s ideas?” he finally growled.
Kerr rolled his eyes, swaying his head from side to side to show off his feeling of the subject's stupidity.
“And the walking paranoia strikes again,” he commented with a faint grimace.
“Paranoia about turning people into batteries?” Gogo retorted, standing up and crossing his arms as he glared at his brother, “he knew that the espers that already existed wouldn’t be able to supply energy forever!”
“Kefka!”
Kerr's voice was so sharp that it hurt like a slap. The madman's eyes narrowed high above his barring teeth as he regarded the face that had been paling with rage.
“The way you blame Gestahl for everything is getting ridiculous, do you really think that I’m innocent?” he snapped, “I knew just as well as he did.”
He joylessly smirked at the deepening paleness of his brother's cheeks, finding a twisted kind of amusement in the horror of the other man. He reveled in the sense of power it invoked for a second before snapping out of it.
‘You goddamned, sick bastard!’ Siren hissed, fighting a burning wish to dive into Kerr’s mind and tear it apart.
“I have told you, Kefka,” the lord snarled in a cold voice, putting emphasis on the fact that he wasn’t using the normal nickname ‘Kef’, “I have shown and indicated, and you still don’t believe me? You do me shame, little brother.”
“And are you proud of the crimes that you have committed?” Gogo finally managed to force between his gritting teeth.
Siren finally caught herself and called out a warning to her friend, but it seemed as if the cloud of anger made him deaf to her voice.
“I was…” Kerr began in a loud voice, but Gogo cut him off.
“My sins weren’t enough for you, were they?!” the mimic harshly shouted, throwing out his arm in a violent bow, “you must do worse and damn people of your own race by transforming them into beasts and drain their power as well?!”
Kerr's fists were opening and clenching as his lips drew back in a murderous growl. Siren almost hit her harp in the panicking despair. The notes were flung aside by a white hot wall of animalistic rage erupting from the madman's mind, burning through every sensible thought that had been built up over the past week. The esper drew back with a terrified gasp, seeing her careful preparations reduced to ashes before the source of Kerr's madness that Gogo without realizing it was coaxing.
“Kefka…” Kerr almost purred, like a preying baskervor.
‘<I>Gogo</I>!’ Siren screamed.
He froze for a moment, but she wasn't sure if he had heard him since his mind was an unreadable mess. But for a brief moment she had hope.
Then he spoke again, in a chilly, calm voice but still just as angry, just with a little more control. And no more mind.
“A lot I can forgive,” he growled, “but if you plan on playing god with Gestahl and turn humans into espers when the originals die, then you truly have sunken as low as Clyde and the others believed.”
The two stared at each other.
Kerr smiled.
People had learnt to fear that smile, but only for a very short time. Espers who now resided in the magicite facility still remembered it clearly.
‘<I>Gogo</I>!!’ Siren hollered, ‘<I>I can’t stop him</I>!’
“I wouldn’t say that you are in a position of handing out forgiveness, dear brother,” Kerr said.
The mimic regarded him for a second longer, the flame of anger flaring one last time before it fell into the ashes of sorrow. Had he known what he had done while he was shouting? Maybe so. He wasn't sure. But it was done now, maybe sooner or later than it could have happened, but now he finally realized that this tear was something that nothing could have hindered in the long run – whether it would have been him or Kerr who ripped up their bond once again, the chasm that had cracked open nineteen years ago was far too wide for a bridge to cross.
His hope had been desperate all the time and he should have been able to truly admit it to himself, but in his foolishness allowing himself to dismiss the doubts far too easily. His brother was mad, he had known it. It was a sickness neither he nor Siren could hope to cure as long as the mimic lived, since it had grown from Kerr’s weakest point; the jealousy he felt for his brother’s life.
“What does it matter anymore?” Gogo whispered both to Kerr and to Siren, in defeat spreading his arms even as he spoke and his brother raised a hand.
Sparkles flew between Kerr's fingertips as he bent his fingers, his burning eyes hatefully nailed onto the man who dared to defy him.
A perfectly alike face, eyes closed in emotional anguish. But no struggle anymore.
Brother.
And for a moment, Kerr hesitated.
It was all Siren needed, her hands flying over the strings of the harp. The music swirled around the poker of hatred inside Kerr's soul, trying to cool it down.
Afterwards, she wasn't sure if it was her doing or if Kerr really did change his mind by own force, but she knew what Gogo would think.
“Bah!”
“Agh!”
Gogo stumbled backwards and fell back into the sofa, his robes adorned with several fizzling burn marks. But his body was left unharmed.
Still in shock he looked up at Kerr, who was forcefully pressing a hand against his face with a groan.
Half a minute passed, and none of the three in the room said a word, seemingly frozen in time. Only the two men's breathing showed that they were still alive. The angry glow from the bolts faded in the yellow cloth the mimic wore.
“Brother…” Gogo finally croaked, hesitantly.
“Don’t you ever do that again, Kef,” Kerr snarled and finally let the hand fall, pinching his eyes shut, “damn, I need another dose…”
For a moment Gogo wasn't sure if he should be irritated over the fact that he was the one receiving full blame or simply be relieved.
‘I say it really <I>was</I> your fault, but not because I agree with him,’ Siren somewhat dryly said, ‘what in Poltergeist’s name were you thinking?!’
‘I was thinking of slavery,’ the mimic somewhat acidly replied.
‘That I understand, but satisfying as it might be we both know that shouting at him isn’t the best way to stay alive!’
Gogo clenched his jaw, nodding weakly in his mind.
“I’ve told you that I go berserk without my medicine, do you believe me already, oh little one?” Kerr continued as there was no reply, sounding a little irritated again.
“It appears so,” Gogo muttered, staring at the table.
“Bro-o-o…”
A fist came into view and pushed the mimic's chin upwards. But the voice who spoke held no true teasing edge, dominated by the dull tone that had filled Kerr's speech just after the withdrawal attack a few days ago.
“Don’t make me kill you, I have a feeling I’d feel almost bad afterwards,” the madman said, apparently struggling to seem stronger than he felt.
Gogo tried to swallow the bitter taste in his mouth, gently but with a still shaking hand taking a hold of the fist and lowering it.
“Always a comfort,” he said and tilted his head at the bathroom, “go take your pills then, you’ll probably feel better.”
‘For now…’ he sadly added to himself.
From the corner of his eyes he saw the green robe swing as Kerr turned, and he listened to the steps, distant clatter of pills and running water.
Eyes not really registering it bitterly stared at the fated page in the book, at the notes of a spell that could turn a human into an esper.
‘Will this work?’ he finally thought after several seconds.
Siren didn’t answer at first, it seemed like she turned around from keeping an eye on Kerr and for the first time gave the text a study.
‘Turn the page,’ she murmured after a while.
Gogo did so, revealing another half page of careful text. The page to the right described a healing spell, in the same messy handwriting as always.
‘I’m not completely sure,’ Siren eventually said after a couple of seconds’ more scanning of the text, ‘but it could probably work. He’s gotten it down pretty we…!’
She jumped in surprise just like Gogo as a hand shot forwards and grabbed the book, ripping it out of the mimic’s hand.
“I think this isn’t meant for innocent eyes such as yours, baby bro,” Kerr said, with a quick movement tearing out the page with the lone spell.
He threw the book back to the table, clenching his hand around the torn paper so that it became an uneven, gray ball. With a swift movement he sent it towards the middle of the room in a wide bow. It caught fire in midair and fell over the carpet as snowflake ashes.
“Much better,” Kerr said, wiping his hands with the shadow of a smirk.
Gogo wasn’t sure how to express the feeling of relief over seeing his brother destroy the atrocity by own choice, but he got no real chance to speak right then. Kerr stretched a bit with a yawn, starting to state another opinion.
“I think that’s enough for toni… the hell?”
The two men and the esper snapped up at the door, and the loud knock at it.
“Lord Kefka! General Aglie requests your help!” a muffled man’s voice shouted.
“At this hour?” Kerr dryly said.
He exchanged glances with Gogo who raised his hands to the level of his shoulders with a sigh.
“Here we go again…”
“Exactly,” Kerr nodded, snapping his fingers.
Gogo’s feet left the floor and he was flung into the wardrobe on the other side of the room, stumbling backwards into the collection of robes as he landed and the doors silently shut before his nose. The last thing he saw before his sight was almost completely barricaded, was Kerr sending the books and extra coffee cup into hiding under the sofa with a circulating movement of his hand.
Well, that was one cup nobody would drink from again without a complete wash…
Kerr stormed to the door and ripped it open.
“What is it <I>now</I>?!” he snarled, “I was finally about to go to sleep and I get <I>grumpy</I> when I’m disturbed this late!”
He paused for a moment before the frightened soldier had time to defend himself.
“Or is it early?” the lord said in a thoughtful, calm voice.
“Three in the morning, my lord!” the poor messenger managed, cold sweat staining his dark uniform from the inside.
His helmet didn’t feel quite as assuring as it normally did when lord Kefka seemed to glare through it.
“Aglie better have a good reason for calling me now!” the blond man growled, to the soldier appearing twice a normal human’s size.
Somehow, fear managed to unlock the tongue that it itself had paralyzed for a moment.
“A magitek armor malfunctioned in the barracks and is wreaking havoc, my lord!” he croaked.
Kerr glared at the man.
“Can’t Ugly boy take care of that himself? And why activate one of those at this hour?” he demanded.
“I… I don’t know, my lord… o-orders!” the soldier stammered.
“Oh, whatever…”
Kerr swept out of his room, slamming the door shut behind him. The soldier fought against the will to slump against the wall in relief and hurried after the madman who pranced down the corridor at a surprising speed.
Gogo carefully stepped forwards and out of the wardrobe, watching the closed door to the outer world thoughtfully.
‘Something must be going on if they activate their devil’s toys,’ he worriedly thought.
‘Yes… I hope our friends haven’t made a mistake,’ Siren agreed in the same tone.
‘Truly… but Kerr would have received word about that, wouldn’t he?’
Siren was silent for a couple of seconds.
‘What if he did know something?’ she grimly pointed out.
Gogo shook his head.
‘He can’t keep something like that secret. Trust me.’
‘He’s managed to keep your presence out of other’s knowledge as far as I’ve noticed.’
To herself, Siren added the musing about whether or not that was really something to trust in either.
‘True, but… no, I’d see through him.’
Gogo shook his head and stretched, rubbing his stiff neck.
‘In either case, there’s nothing we can do about it before he comes back,’ he finally said.
‘I sup- now what?!’
Siren was cut off in the same alarm that made Gogo jump; a second knock on the door.
“Lord Kefka!” another man’s voice called through the wood.
The mimic backed towards the wardrobe, praying that the lock spell that Kerr had promised eight days earlier truly would hold if needed.
As there was no answer, the man called and knocked again, louder this time.
“Lord Kefka! His Majesty summons you!”
‘Something is <I>really</I> going on tonight…’ Gogo thought, clenching his teeth as he stepped into the wardrobe and with the help of the hooks on the inside managed to pull the doors shut.
He couldn’t be overly careful.
“Lord Kefka, it’s really important!” the messenger called and knocked again, a hint of panic in his voice.
‘Can’t the idiot realize that <I>he’s not here</I>?’ the mimic growled to himself and his invisible companion, who shook her head with a frown.
The handle of the door made a creaking noise as it was tested, but apparently the lock held.
Then there was a fizzling sound and a half strangled cry of pain followed by a curse. Gogo’s eyebrows went up.
‘He tried to dispel the lock,’ Siren explained, frowning deeper, ‘let me see…’
It was the first time she actually moved outside of the room ever since her arrival, and when she tried to go through the door itself she found that Kerr’s spell to keep people from leaving and entering was a truly solid magic work. It stopped even her, a wandering mind. She solved this by poking her unseen head through the wall instead, watching the figure who spun around and hurried off again as he was out of ideas.
‘One of those men in red robes with hoods,’ she reported, ‘some kind of scholar warriors, aren’t they?’
‘They are high ranked officers yes,’ Gogo clarified as he stepped out of the wardrobe once again, ‘specialists, advisors. At least, that’s how it used to be. I suppose that they are mages of some kind nowadays.’
Siren thoughtfully watched the door.
‘Peculiar…’ she murmured.
‘Very much so, I’d like to know what’s going on here tonight. How far from your magicite can you go? Kerr might be gone for a long time.’
‘Hmm…’
Siren floated through the wall and forwards through the corridor. But after just a couple of feet she felt a pull draw her entire ethereal body backwards, as if she was stuck in tough toffee.
‘Not far enough I’m afraid, maybe if you held my magicite and let me borrow some of your power,’ she told Gogo as she turned back in defeat.
The mimic considered this for a moment, then shook his head.
‘No, we can’t risk that Kerr comes back suddenly and sees you,’ he finally said.
Siren found herself smiling at his worry for her, and the knowledge that it was an act of self-preservation as well mattered very little. They were in the same trap, after all.
‘Then the only thing to do is to wait, I suppose,’ she said, the smile still in her voice.
Gogo smiled at thin air, in his eyes a hint of surprise at her suddenly soft tone. She almost chuckled at how adorable that one seemed.
‘Ah well…’ he fleetingly agreed and headed for the sofa.
Bending down he managed to pick out the book he had been reading from the dusky underside of the furniture, recognizing the worn, brown back of it. Sitting down he let the pages flash past his thumb as he searched for the place where a page had been torn so that he could get back to studying.
Siren retreated to her magicite to let her soul rest a little after the tension earlier with Kerr’s berserk act. She realized that the handful of days which had passed by smoothly had made her a little soft on the lookout. The memory of her incapability to restrain the madman also sowed a bitter taste in her mouth now that she could think it over. She had trusted that anchor she made, and more than that; Gogo had trusted it and her to be a safety belt in case something happened. She as magicite could lie there under the wardrobe safely for a long time to come – which didn’t sound too tempting, but better than the esper facility – but the mimic could have died.
‘Damn it…’ she sighed.
Perhaps she had made the connection to Kerr too weak after that time when he had felt her presence… or he was stronger than she had thought. She couldn’t regard any of those options as heartening.
With a grunt she shook her head and looked back at Gogo. He was turning the pages of the book idly, apparently not too interested in the reading.
‘Maybe you should get to sleep,’ she told him.
He shook his head.
‘As tempting as it sounds, I doubt I’ll be able to.’
She didn’t have to take a closer look to know that the page he once again stopped on was the part which was now torn. The bitter smile that threatened his lips said it all.
‘I still trust him,’ he stated out of the blue, ‘it’s those damn pills that worries me.’
Siren just shook her head, unable to find a good answer to that.
Slowly Gogo closed the book and let it slide in under the sofa again. He stood, massaging his neck for a bit. Then he idly walked out onto the floor, walking back and forth for almost a minute.
‘No rest for the wicked?’ Siren commented with a chuckle.
Gogo let out a low laugh at her amusement, but then his smile died down.
‘I might just be too tired but I have a bad feeling…’ he muttered, though his tone assured that he hardly believed what he was saying. He wasn’t a very superstitious man to heart, and it could have been the first time in his life that he said those words.
Siren, being a magical being and knowing that there were many things that humans should put more faith in, frowned slightly again.
‘About the Returners?’ she questioned.
‘No, nothing that perceptible,’ Gogo replied, sounding surprised at her serious tone.
‘Ah well…’
Siren let him know that she shrugged to calm any worry that he might have. He had enough on his mind without her messing things up even more.
Gogo stood still for a moment, but then resumed pacing.
On his fifth or so turn, he stopped while turned towards the door, looking down at the carpet. At this point, Siren watched him somewhat sluggishly as she had begun to settle, but there was little else to look at so he still held her fading interest.
The mimic bent down on one knee, reaching out his pointing and long finger.
An oily piece of ash stuck on his fingertips, and he turned his hands to look at the flakes that had been part of a hideous spell.
He started to rise up again.
The door clicked and began to open.
Siren looked up, expecting to see Kerr. She saw who it was one second before the man looked into the room, and she screamed.
Gogo was completely taken aback by his friend’s shriek as he hadn’t noticed the door, too caught up in his own thoughts. He stumbled and fell to his knees with a gasp.
“Kefka, are you aslee… what the hell?!”
The mimic’s eyes flew to the door in horror as he heard the voice, his gaze being pierced by the ice-cold stare of the only man with enough power to break the mad lord’s spells.
‘We’re dead, brother…’ was Gogo’s last thought before Gestahl’s storm of pure energy hit him square in the chest.
Dun, dun, dun…
Aglie is the new imperial general since Celes is a Returner, Leo is dead and Kefka (Kerr) being one step higher now.
The pills and medicine they mention are anti-depressive drugs that Kerr is on, which serves to add up to his madness. The withdrawals are, shall we say, nasty.
Oi…antidepressants. Baaad.
Nice long one ya gots here, Wei. Longer = better. 
Danke, danke
And it’s not going to get better anytime soon :mwahaha:
<I>Didn’t I know
how it would go?
If I knew from the start
why am I falling apart?</I>
- Florence and Svetlana, “I Know Him so Well” from “Chess”
Siren clutched her harp desperately, her right hand pressed against her mouth in horror. Like a plaything for madmen, Gogo hit the floor several feet from where he had been crouching when Gestahl first saw him, needle-thin lightning bolts crawling over his twitching body. A big, burnt area now adorned the chest of his robes, looking far worse than the blackened holes Kerr had given him hardly twenty minutes ago.
The emperor marched over the floor, snarling in rage. With surprising strength he grabbed the fallen man’s collar and glared at the pale face as if he needed to assure himself of what he had seen.
Gogo’s eyes were closed but his lips slightly parted; the blow had thrown him out of the conscious world.
Gestahl’s thinning gaze scanned the old burns on the yellow clothes and for a moment the frown eased a little in brief hesitation. Then his elderly, cruel face constricted in rage again.
“Kefka!” the emperor snarled with a glance over his shoulder, straightening up and throwing the helpless Gogo aside.
The mimic pathetically groaned when his helmet slammed into the floor, but he drowned in the darkness again before he could make it out.
Gestahl’s long, graying beard and hair crawled against his regal, red robes like hungry snakes as he walked back towards the door in quick, powerful strides, his enraged mind set on somebody who would have to answer a few questions.
The door slammed shut and for a second it glowed in a sickly green light as the emperor renewed the lock to assure that the strange finding wouldn’t go anywhere even if he woke up.
For a couple of seconds, Siren remained frozen in complete terror.
But eventually the harp slid out of her grip to float beside her as the esper’s hands flew to her hair. Fingers drummed against the spirit’s skull, desperately.
‘What can I do, what do I do… what!? <I>What</I>?!’
But nobody could hear her silent cries.
‘Gogo…!’ she croaked, staring powerlessly at the motionless body.
Even if she had been able to wake him up, it would help very little.
Him…
An avalanche would have hit her more gently than the merciless thought that attacked her vulnerable mind.
‘No… no… not that…’
Siren wildly shook her head, refusing to accept that there was no other choice.
But staring at Gogo’s broken form, sprawled painfully over the carpet, she had to face the truth.
Each second was too precious to waste, she knew that. Still, she had to press her hands against her face in order to collect herself before she reached out a set of trembling fingers and took a hold of the harp again. Pressing the instrument against her chest for both practical and psychological strength, she forced her mind into focusing. She had to struggle, two times her attempts failed because fear shattered her will completely. But the force of the situation was as merciless as the emperor whom she had to help fooling.
There…
Swallowing hard out of habit, she reached out.
The palace turned blurry around her as she pulled at the distance, biting her lower lip not to scream.
As she stopped Siren allowed herself a very brief respite in order to look around, to make sure that it was safe.
Safe?
She could have broken down in hysterical laughter.
He was just telling some tall, dark-haired man in the empire’s shady uniform for generals that the soldiers should stop come crying for help in the middle of the night. The other man’s eyes almost literally shot daggers; yet another one in the fan club.
Behind the two, soldiers were stumbling around a broken down shell of a magitek armor. It was smoking dangerously and one of the arms had been blown off – that one laid a few feet away beside another dark and sleeping armor by the wall. At least ten machines of destruction were lined up against the walls of the dusky, long room; it appeared to be a hangar for the weapons.
Siren struggled, her magicite was too far off and trying to rip her back. But she couldn’t allow it to do so, she was already feeling weary from the night that had so far passed and the journey to the military base had taken a lot out of her. It was very questionable whether she’d be able to try this again, and the fact that she was apprehensive like a calve walking towards a butcher didn’t help.
‘Go away already!’ she screeched, clutching her harp tighter.
Smirking he swung around and walked out of the open, dark slide doors of the storage, the general still trying to make his head fall off with glares alone.
There were more soldiers outside, but they fled away from him as he didn’t look very pleased either.
Somebody would still see him, but Siren could wait no longer as the gravity of the remains of her body was clawing at her by now.
Closing her eyes tightly she flung herself forwards, past the wall of thoughts and emotions, into the core. The pull from her remains was cut instantly as she entered a new base point.
Kerr stumbled in surprise, his right hand flying to his forehead as an intruder plunged into his head.
Now lean back and watch the fireworks. MUHAHAHAHAA!!