Something rustled above her head, and Dana only barely stifled another yelp as the tentacled red thing she had seen earlier dropped from the ceiling. It landed in the middle of the group, whirling and spinning at a tremendous speed, its many long scarlet tendrils lashing out and curling in again. Then all of the whiplike appendages curled into the main body, forming a ragged pod, and a moment later Vincent Valentine rose from his crouch.
"I seem to recall," Vincent said mildly, studying the look of jaw-dropping adulation on Dana's face, "That you are part of the afternoon Dark and Gloomy class. And yesterday, you answered a question correctly- after having read the assignment."
A surprised murmur ran through the group of canons. Somebody actually did the classwork in Vincent Valentine's class?
"Y- y- yessir," Dana stammered. Vincent was different, too. His face was smoother and paler, and every single digit of the gold-colored claw glinted like cut diamond as he moved it slightly. The cloak moved of its own accord, reacting to the slightest breeze that passed through the huge hall. In short, Vincent Valentine was as sexy and mysterious as ever, but now there was a different element: Dana stepped back half a step, overpowered by a sudden sensation of . . .
. . . sadness.
Vincent looked pained, incredibly so. There was a sense of tragedy that seemed to follow him like a cloud of smoke, turning even the brightly-lit room dark and shadowy. Dana shivered involuntarily. She'd never seen him up close before, and it frightened her- granted, not frightened her as much as the minis who had been brandishing some extremely creative weaponry a minute before, but more deeply.
This guy had suffered. She vaguely remembered a hiding attempt two days ago; she'd ducked into what looked like a broom closet, only to discover that it was the back entrance to ExDeath's private sauna. That had been a fiasco. But Dana remembered those first few moments of terror in the darkness, trying to stifle her breathing, imagining that the Moogles would find it. And she imagined spending thirty years in the suffocating dark.
Thirty years with ExDeath. Gyaaah! Not going there!
"Miss Ebersol," Vincent said, looking down at her. He hadn't looked so tall before, either; her Inner Luster immediately produced an appreciative puddle of drool, but Dana was too mesmerized to pay attention to her the voices in her head. After all, there were always at least three of them, and that was on a good day. "Miss Ebersol. I assume you know what has happened here?"
"A- Advent Children?" Dana guessed, flinching automatically the second the words left her mouth. However, no fuzzy pink or white death descended on her head, so she plucked up her courage and continued. "You look different. You all look different. And Tse- uh . . . Mr. Tseng isn't see-through any more."
Reno grinned. "Yep! Turned out the boss-man wasn't dead after all, yo!"
"Not what?" Dana asked. She wasn't sure he'd heard that correctly.
"Not dead, yo! Just injured or somethin'. Turks is a team again, yo!"
"Why is he-" Dana began.
Vincent shook his head sadly. "Translation error. You really don't want to know."
"YO!"
"Reno, I have respect for all Turks," the scarlet-cloaked man said regretfully, "But if you keep on doing that I'm going to shove that electro-rod of yours so far up your ass that you'll have to conduct your own colonoscopy to get it back."
"Miss Ebersol," he added, turning back to Dana, whose mouth was now hanging open for a very different reason, "As you can see, the release of Advent Children has changed our appearances, and- to some extent- our mannerisms. It's caught some of us rather off guard. Considering this, I would recommend that you tell all of your friends to avoid Sephiroth's classes for the next few days."
His words were punctuated by a rising rumble of thunder, which boomed over the university and was quickly followed by several flashes of lightning. Cups on tables began to rattle.
A voice rang out in the dimness. "HEY PSYCHO BOY! YOU LOOK LIKE A FUCKING GIRL!"
"I will DESTROY YOU, Highwind!"
"Oh yeah? You'll have to pick up your skirts first, Cinderella! Think Mommy is going to let you got to the ball?"
There was another roll of thunder, and a sizzling bolt of electricity crashed into the ground outside. Dana heard a rising shriek of "My GARDEN!", followed by a roar of "GREAT GOSPEL!". Three awful seconds of silence were punctuated by a distinctly un-suave yowl of pain.
"You'll pay for that, Cetra!"
"Don't run too fast, princess! Those glass slippers must be hard on your poor feet!"
The Turks stared at each other. "Aeris?" Reno mouthed, dumbfounded.
"Yes, she does tend to do that," Tseng remarked.
"How do you know?" Elena piped up. Tseng shot her a misery-laden look.
"I grew up with Aeris, in the slums. She can be vindictive . . . and very cruelly accurate with that staff, when the occasion calls for it."
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