Who:  Selphie Tilmitt, Irvine Kinneas, Edgar Figaro, Vincent Valentine
Where:  Cafeteria, Dormitory Hallway, Vincent's Room, Irvine and Selphie's Room.
Why:  A mish mash of RP.  Everything from meeting Edgar to a little lover's spat to hearing Vincent going into a rage.
Date of Log:  September 18, 2000.




Deciding that the chocolate stash in her room is just too dang important to eat on a whim such as this, Selphie zips into the cafeteria quickly enough, heading right for the little snackie machine. Knowing the numbers for the bag o'chocolate chip cookies by heart, she clinks her gil into the slot, presses said numbers, and taptaptaps her foot as she listens to the machine 'whrrrr,' and finally, her cookies 'plunk.' Beaming, she bends down and retrieves her lovely cookies. Irvine shouldn't be too far off, logically.

Logics proving to be true, since the two of them are so rarely seen apart these days, Irvine enters the cafeteria soon after the little wonder in yellow does. It's funny, they don't even mean to run into one another and yet, they do. Spotting Selphie at said candy machine, the cowboy immediately sets off in that direction. "Cookies? Haven't you had enough sugar today, Darlin'?" Then again, sleeping beside her is gonna be interesting tonight after everything she's consumed.

Striaghtening just as Irvine approaches, the girl jump!s slightly, turning quickly as she clutches her previous bag to her chest. "--!" Letting out a little breath as it's -only Irvy-, Selphie hrmph!s. "I thought you -wanted- me to eat," she retorts, matter-of-factly. "So then I eat, and you don't want me to! Jeez, -men-!" Just as she says 'men,' she rips the package open. Mmm, cookie smell.

Irvine frowns slightly at that and shrugs, "I just would rather you eat healthy, Darlin'." Not like he's being totally hypocritical in this regard, he doesn't eat like a rabbit or something, but he rarely seems to take part in the junkfood around here. But, he lets it go, seeing as she's determined to eat the cookies and chuckles at her. "Well, it's not like I can stop you anyway. How are you today, love?" He's only seen her twenty or some times today, but hey, that's love for you.

Hee. 'Love.' That's such a cute nickname! And being that 'Irvy' is normally the extent of -her- cute nicknames, she kind of feels bad about not having more. -He- calls her Sefie, and Darlin', and now -Love-. She's so behind! So, hm -- let's think of something. Beaming up to the Cadet, Selphie holds a cookie up towards him. "Fii~iine! How 'bout you, cowboy?" ...Okay, so it's not a cute name, but she likes it. And it's true. Even as she speaks, though, she turns slightly -- to sit down at a table or retire to 'their room.' Hrm.

Irvine makes like he's going to follow her, wherever she goes, be it his-- their room or a table in the cafeteria. The cowboy nickname actually is missed entirely, since he's kinda used to people referring to him like that. It's either 'cowboy' or 'Kinneas' or 'hey you' these days. It's cute coming from Selphie, at least. Idly he replies, "Much better now, actually, now that I found you again." Awww. Someone is feeling all lovey dovey today.

Beam! How sweet. "--Fresh!", Selphie teases, even as she trots towards a table -- fully expecting Irvine to follow. A nearby one, nice n'close to the snack machine, and door. "Whatcha' been doin'? I went to the library! But they didn't have any books on how to set up a wedding," she reports, sadly. Sniffle! She tried, too. Sitting, she stuffs a cookie in her mouth. Chewchewchew. Waah. Now how is she supposed to organize her wedding?

Edgar strolls nonchalantly into the cafeteria, hands clasped behind his back, his face set in an impartial observing-type-look... but his eyes are filled with wonder. An entire floating facility! Electricity with no pollution! It's like Midgar but much, much cleaner... He nearly knocks over a chair, breaking his nonchalant stroll into a tumbling match to keep his face off the floor... which he succeeds in doing, but only after making an immense amount of noise.

Claiming a seat beside Selphie, Irvine shrugs his shoulders, reaching around her shoulders with an arm to pull her in closer. "Well, there's plenty of time to plan it, Darlin'. No need to rush things." Eep, this may mean she wants it right away. The cowboy considers this, seeing as he'd really like to wait till at least he's managed to reach his eighteenth birthday. Luckily, Edgar provides a nice distraction from these thoughts and the cowboy turns his head to see where the noise is coming from, not recognizing Edgar in the slightest. "You ok, Padre?" he asks with a bit of a drawl.

Edgar looks up. "Eh?" . o O (Why is he speaking Southern Domese?) "Oh... yes, yes, I'm all right..." His voice sounds a little clipped, a little upper-class... but is still down to earth in that warm, compassionate sense. "Just not watching where I was going... where might one acquire food around here?"

Selphie's attention is fairly easy to nab, which Edgar does. Hardly having time to process Irvine's words, the brunnete looks to the clatter, blinking widely. Some of the other assembled clap rudely, though Selphie's faaar too mature for that. ...Or something. "Chairs are for sitting in, sir!", she comments helpfully, smiling nonetheless. Hee. At least she's not the only klutz around. At his question, she blinks, looking slightly lost. "--Er, the counter...?" Pointing with a cookie to said counter, she adds, "...Are you, er, a visitor?" Obviously!

Seeing as Selphie answered the stranger's question for him, Irvine merely nods, then glares at the applauding jokers while making a slashing motion with his fingers across his throat. 'Cut it out.' Wouldn't be right to embarass a visitor here. Sheesh. That done, he glances back at Edgar, noting the somewhat regal kind of bearing the man seems to possess.

Edgar nods. "Yes... I'm visiting. A guest of Sir Leonheart's... allow me to introduce myself: I am King Edgar Figaro." He makes a slight bow... "With the formalities aside... will the counter take gold? All I have are Figaroan Goldounces and those funny steel coins issed in Midgar..."
      
Stare. Squall has a king for a visitor? Starestare. Having just raised another cookie to her lips, Selphie kinda pauses in that position, blinking widely. "--...Uh..." A shakeshake of her head, and the girl beams -- this isn't as cool as having another Knight around, but close enough! "Wow, no -- don't worry about it! Just tell the lady that you're a visitor! Squall's visitor. Mention that." Blather blather. "..." Not being able to hold herself back anymore, she bubbles, "You're really a king?! Should we bow? Or curtsey? I've never seen a king bffore!" Whee!

Irvine just kind of -looks- at Edgar, the curiousity suddenly dying as he realizes who the man is. Now his stare is more cool, cornflower blue eyes narrowing slightly. So, is this the man who declared Squall to be famous? Well, it must be, seeing as he just called him 'Sir Leonhart'. Does he realize how badly he's screwed with the teenage Commander's head? No, no, don't start thinking that way, cowboy, calm, pixie dust. Luckily, Selphie seems to be more the interested in him, sparing him from really having to say anything.

Edgar smiles as an old man smiles to his grandchildren. "No, that's quite alright... formalities get boring after thirty years of them." . o O (Gads, being bowed to as a 5-year-old is still a vivid and annoying memory...) "Just treat me as you would your commander... without the military regalia and all... I'm really just a normal guy with a funny accent who happened to be born into the royal family of Figaro... now if you'll pardon me for a moment." He walks over to the counter, explains his situation... and after a look of shock from the server and a roll of the eyes from Edgar, a sandwich is respectfully thrust into the King's hands.

Eeee! Royalty! Like in the fairytales. Nodding quickly to the man, she doesn't really see herself calling him 'Edgarie' as she does to Squall, nor does she see herself forcing him into being in the Festival... But, well -- that's probably not what he meant by 'treat me as your would your commander.' As he turns to gather foodstuffs, though, Selphie turns excitedly to Irvine; not knowing anything about the man except what was just shared. "-Wow-!" Hushed whispers, of course. "I didn't know Squall knew a -king-! Irvy, this is -awesome-!" Then, belatedly, she adds slowly, "...Is Squall a knight? --He said 'Sir Leonhart'! Is Squall a knight?!" Oh GOD...

Edgar comes back and takes a seat near Irvine and Selphie. He starts to munch on his sandwich and sip from his soda... presenting a somewhat strange sight. "Oh, sorry... no, he's not a knight... it's custom of my land to refer to most statesmen as 'sir'."

Irvine replies quietly, but unexcitedly toward Selphie without looking at her, eyes trained on the King of Figaro, watching him. "Squall's the Commander, Darlin', he knows a lot of people. He was in Baron to meet with another King just a few days ago. If Squall's been knighted by one of em, well I didn't see it in the report." Uh oh, he never told Selphie about any report. Heh. Oh well, open mouth and insert foot, later. And then, Edgar approaches and the cowboy definately seems to have his hackles up suddenly, though he doesn't at all protest Edgar sitting near them.

Blinking at Irvine's words, Selphie indeed wonders what report Irvine speaks of. Ruh-roh. But before she can question it further, Edgar returns! Sitting all straight in her seat, cookies forgotten about for the moment, she looks at the man, wide-eyed with all that childish curiousity that she has so much of. "...Oh." Aww. Crestfallen Selphie. "...Okay."

Edgar looks around at the gathering crowd with a hint of annoyance, and shrugs, deciding to enjoy the first bit of carbonated beverage since he left Midgar. "At any rate, this is a very nice facility you have here. I'll have to see about exchanging technologies... at any rate, if you don't think it rude, who are you two?" He nods towards Selphie and Irvine while chewing on a piece of his spicy chicken sandwich.

"Irvine Kinneas," the cowboy responds easily enough, and of course he has to add onto that, "Best sharpshooter in Garden." Gesturing to Selphie, he has to introduce her too. "This is my fiancee, Selphie Tilmitt, resident demolitions expert and damn fine pilot." His voice still has that faint drawl to it, and seems, crisp, not at all like the little wonder in yellow's bubbly and burbly voice and personality.

Edgar smiles to them both, wiping his hands on a paper napkin, and extending his right hand for a shake... he learned that in Midgar. "Pleased to meet you... just think of me as Edgar, unconventional engineer and... well, head figure of some backwards nation." He half grins, half smirks as he goes to dispose of his paper plate and cup.

Selphie's crestfallen spell wears off soon enough, and she perks a bit at the question of identities. Glancing to Irvine as he starts, she waits for her turn -- only to find he did the job for her. Hee! Fiancee! That's such a cool word. Nodding eagerly with Irvine's words, she does, however, elbow the cowboy as he glorifies her jobs and his. "Showoff," is whispered, as Edgar rises. "--It's nice to meet you too!", is added in his direction, however.

Irvine oofs slightly, glancing at Selphie with a cocky grin as she elbows him. Winking at her, he turns back toward Edgar, in time to reach out and shake the man's hand. His grip is firm, maybe a little too firm, but surely he doesn't realize it. Surely. Leaning back in his seat again, he reaches up to tip his hat, standard greeting for the cowboy. "Yeah, nice to meet you, Edgar." Well, he said treat him like anyone else, so no 'Your Majesty' or 'Your Highness's from Irvine.

Edgar smiles. . o O (No 'Your Majesty' or 'Your Highness' from this Kinneas fellow. Very nice. Looks like he'd be at home on the veldt.) "So, anyhow, what do you two do around here?"

Not really sure -what- to call this man, since she's supposed to -not- call him fancy things, Selphie settles for 'sir.' That sounds nice! "--Uhm~. Well, not much of anything right -now-, but when missions come up, we're on 'em! Yeah!" There's a pause, and then, "...Well, most of the time." Meaning, of course, that Irvine's still a Cadet, and all. ...Right. So, she eats a cookie, to keep her mouth shut. c_c

Luckily for Selphie, Irvine takes care of that inconsistency for her. "I'm still a Cadet here, Edgar. So I'm usually training and in classes. And when not doing that, I get occasionally sent out to handle something that requires a marksman." He's proud of his talent, darn it, even if half the time he wishes the missions he does get sent on were, like, not assassination ones. Ah well. Giving Selphie an affectionate squeeze, he goes back to referring to her now. "Selphie here is SeeD. Cute as a button, but watch out in combat."

Edgar smiles, and nods slowly. So tempting to talk about affairs of state... but no, that's all very secret... He smiles. "You said you were a cadet... do either of you know Terra Branford?"

Though she may not normally mind sounding utterly stupid to most people, this is a king! So Selphie honestly tries not to talk so much. He's an important type, and Irvine's better with words than she is, when she's excited. And insert a blush at Irvine's compliment, even if it -is- true. Munch. At Edgar's question, though, even if it's seemingly addressed to Irvine, the girl 'mm!'s, since her mouth is full, nodnoding eagerly. He knows Terra?

Irvine also nods, almost at the same time Selphie does. The two of them together are scary that way sometimes. "Yeah, we know Terra. She's a friend." Well, he claims her as a friend now, things didn't start off so well. He chuckles with a sudden memory, "Well, she's a friend when she's not attacking me with stacks of papers." He seems a lot more relaxed now then he did originally in Edgar's presence.

Edgar smiles, almost wistfully. "I haven't seen Terra in months... I hope she has some free time soon... we're old friends, Terra and I... we go way back. Back before the convergence... back before Kefka destroyed my world, if that means anything." It should... the stories of the adventures of Cecil, Butz, The Returners, Avalanche... all of them have gained some noteriety in the new world. "That cutie helped save the world." He smiles, and shakes his head, chuckling almost inaudibly. "Terra as an instructor... I pity the poor students..." He chuckles again, winking in cameraderie to Irvine.

Wow! First she meets Sir Cyan, and -he- knew Terra... And now Edgar. Terra has some cool friends. Swallowing finally, Selphie beams, obviously loving hearing all this for some reason. "I'm sure she's got time for an old friend!" ...Cutie? The girl idly wonders if perhaps the two were more than friends, but something else tugs at her. An instructor? ...She didn't think Terra was one, but well -- why burst a bubble...?

Irvine had meant -literally- attacking him with a stack of papers. But, then, who would believe it anyway. And, he'd just said he was a student. Makes sense to make the leap to Terra being an Instructor, though the thought makes the cowboy nearly shudder. Though, as Edgar drifts off finally, the cowboy turns back toward Selphie, "Is it just me or did he like, ignore you?"

...Well, being Selphie and all, bad things get pushed to the back of her mind when she's in a good mood. But, since Edgar is gone, and she no longer gets to hear stories... The fact that she was basically not paid attention to in the least, save for her direction on where to get food, comes to light. "...Yeah, y'know, I thought that, too...!" Voice higher, in a semi-whine, the brunette does now look bothered. How could he! She was so nice to him, too...! Sniffle! Give her a minute, and she'll start getting all angry. Hee.

Giving Selphie a light, affectionate squeeze, he shrugs his shoulders, "Well, his loss then." Of course, the cowboy doesn't realize she's about to get upset and even if she was, he wouldn't believe for a second she would get upset with him. Even though he did kinda steal the converesation. And Edgar's attention. And Selphie's chance to introduce herself. Uh oh.

Well, not at -Irvine-... Though perhaps she should. Just at the fact that this -King- would be so mean! "--Man! Even Vincent and Squall don't do that, and they're all reclusive, and quiet. He was talktative! But to -you-," she hrmphs, crossing her arms, and slumping a bit in her seat. It isn't often that someone ignores -her- for -Irvine-, unless it's a female. "I bet he thinks girls are stupid and weak! Jerk!" Rrr. Now she's all in a bad mood.

Oh joy. Irvine glances down at Selphie, pondering how to cheer the poor girl up. He still remembers now that he doesn't really like King Edgar, for making Squall feel so small. "Hey, Darlin', don't be upset, so he's just a jerk, he comes from some backwater old ways Kingdom. Probably don't know how to treat a lady there." Strange though, the guy knows Terra, so he should know women aren't weak or anything. Oh well. "Hey, you didn't finish your cookies." Distract her with food, yeah!

Pout. "Sir -Cyan- knows how to treat a lady. And Sir -Cyan- knows Terra, so that means that Sir -Cyan- must know him. So he -should- know. He's a king! I didn't think they let morons do that kinda' job!" ...Welcome to the real world, Selphie! She's busy now, however, pondering what she -should- have said. And what she 'will' say when she sees him next. Right. At the mention of her cookies, the brunette hrmphs, quietly. "I know." ... "Thought you didn't want me eatin' them." Snippity!

Irvine frowns now at the tone of voice leveled at him. They've been so euphorically high lately that he hasn't really been introduced to Selphie's temperment, or pouting sulkiness yet. "Well, 'scuse me. Just wanted you to smile is all." No more 'Darlin' either. The arm around her shoulders falls a bit more lax, though he doesn't move it yet. "Kings aren't elected or anything, Selphie, they inherit the throne. So, there's a dose of old world reality for you." He -really- doesn't like being snapped at, has that been mentioned?

A pang of guilt! Irvy was just trying to make her smile...? That's so sweet of him! --But no! She's angry. And she's going to -stay- angry, because ... well ... she doesn't often -get- angry. And it's fun, sometimes. Right? Resisting the urge to 'aww!' and apologize, the girl snorts quietly. "Shouldn't they -inherit- manners, too? -I- have manners, and -I'm- not a king! What a total crock!" Rrr!

Ok, looks like Selphie's determined to be angry. Irvine sighs, "Well, I guess I'd be mad too if he'd totally ignored me." Actually, that's not true. He probably woulda been just happy as a clam if the King hadn't spoken to him. "And no, Darlin', some Kings don't."

"...Why would Squall want him to visit?! He's -mean-! Squall shouldn't bring mean people here!" Kicking her feet now, Selphie puffs her cheeks, and really only succeeds in looking adorable. But dangit, she's mad! And gets madder the more she thinks about it. "--Sure, he paid attention to me when I told him where to get -food-, and how to get it -free-, but after I served my purpose -- did he, then? Nooo~ooo! Of course not! I bet he didn't treat Terra like that! What a -jerk-!" Jeez...

Irvine frowns again, reaching out to brush at Selphie's bangs. She really -is- adorable when she's mad, but... he doesn't want her feeling that way. "Come on, sweetheart, let it go, the guy was a jerk, but don't let him ruin your evening." No comments on why Squall brought him here, not after the report he read and the news he heard regarding the ultimatum to ShinRa. But, Selphie's probably not in a mood to hear that right now. Anger leaves little room for logic.

Hrmph! Selphie doesn't respond one way or the other, sitting slumped in her seat still. Grrr. Though, she does nip! at the hand that brushes at her bangs, though has no intent of really biting it. Rar! She's not even in a really bad mood, either... Sheesh!

Irvine withdraws the hand toute-de-suite as Selphie nips at his fingers. Laughing, yes, he realizes she's not in a bad mood, or at least can't be in -too- bad a mood if she's doing that. "Oooh, is that so. Do I have to tame the woild Selphie?" He starts reaching around her even to pull her against him, possibly even for an ensuing tickle attack!

Blink. "--Er-- Hey!" Dangit! Let her be mad! Let her be in a bad mood. They don't come very often! Waah! Squirming immediately as he pulls her to him, Selphie protests! "No! Let me be angry~! I'm alloooowed!" Rrrr. Irvy gets irritable sometimes. Why can't she?

Cause she's not really mad, that's why. If Irvine thought she was honestly really upset, he'd not be doing this. He starts tickling her sides, grinning from ear to ear and not caring one whit if anyone in the cafeteria sees them behaving like this. She's his fiancee now, so they can just stuff a sock in it.

Frowning deeply up until the time that he tickles her, how the heck can Selphie -not- giggle? Dammit! This is annoying! And it's just gonna embarrass her and make her feel all stupid and stuff when it's over, anyway. Waah! But for the moment, she squirms, and wriggles, and laughs, though against her will! "--S-s-stop it! C'mon!"

Irvine finally quits, not aware that Selphie's all embarassed or feeling stupid about it. Wrapping his arms around her, he chuckles, kissing the top of her head. "Ok, ok, I'll quit. Smiling yet?" Aw, see, he thinks it's -his- turn to cheer her up. She does it for him all the time, so turnabouts fair play, or something. Then again, if he knew he was only making matters a little worse...

Selphie's not even mad about Edgar anymore. She just wants to be angry for once, is all -- being happy all the time really gets a person, even her. And as soon as Irvine quits, she catches her breath -- though makes sure that smile is gone, then -- and squirms still. "No!" She's just being stubborn, is all. And while normally she'd appreciate his gesture... Well. She's in a mood, is all. And it's all Edgar's fault!

Irvine sighs, yes, this is all that Edgar's fault, and the cowboy distinctively didn't like him to begin with after what he did to Squall. "Fine." he relents, "Go ahead and be angry if you want to." Unlike Selphie, he's not got that happy cheery personality half the time and hasn't got the patience to continue cheering someone up. So, he just gives up and lets her wannabe mood seep into him too. "Just don't include me in it." Letting her go, he starts to rise to his feet.

Waaah! No! Don't go! Hold her and make it all better! Waaaaaah! "-Fine-." Scrambling back to her seat, Selphie crosses her arms, frowning again. "I -won't-, then." Include him, that is. Don't leave her! Snuggle her and make everything alright...! "So -there-." Waaah! Irvy~!

Not being a mind reader in the slightest, Irvine just looks down at Selphie with an expression of pure confusion. Wait, she wants to be mad, but she -doesn't- want to be mad. What in the hell? "Will you make your mind up? Hyne you women can be confusing at times." Yep, his hackles are raised again and now the bad mood has been transferred to him.

"--Uh!" Glacning briefly at the cowboy before turning her nose up in the air, Selphie stand!s. "Thought you didn't want me to include you in it! -One- of us needs to make up our minds, and it's not -me-." Waa-aa-aah! Don't listen to her. Really! Please? Sniffle... Unfortunately for her, pride rears it's ugly head. No caving in just yet.

Irvine folds his arms over his chest, looking down at Selphie with increasing ire. Cornflower blue eyes narrow slightly. Neither are either of them aware of this, currently, but a crowd has begun to form. They're always willing to watch when there's trouble in paradise. "Me? I think not, you're the one who can't decide if she's mad or not and is taking it out on -me-. I'm not Edgar, you know."

Mimicing Irvine's motion, Selphie turns to glare up at the cowboy. "--Can't decide?!" Raising a thumb to point at her chest, the smallish girl announces, "I'm -mad-! I'm in the -red-! I could -blow-, Irvine!" Oooh, 'Irvine.' Oh, and of course, she's using nice, big, hand gestures. "--I'm a -mushroom cloud- layin' lil' girl right now, mister! And it -aint'- Edgar that I'm mad about, it's my cocky -fiance-!" She means that in the nicest way possible! Honest! Let's go back and snuggle and make up...!

"Cocky?!?" Irvine shoots back, actually leaning over slightly to get a better look at Selphie. He's honestly starting to get upset now, too bad he can't read the girl's mind or anything. "The hell did all this come from? First you're mad at Edgar and now you're mad at -me-? You really can't make up your mind!" Voices are getting louder, and the crowds are starting to nooootice. This really does bug him though. Can't they just call it quits and go back and make up or something? These two need a mindlink or something.

Crossing her arms around, Selphie turns her face to the side, eyes shut, in an 'I can't hear you' type of look. The crowd -does- go unnoticed, lest she stop, or something. Staying in that same position, the brunette calmly says, in a measured tone, "I thought you didn't want me to -include- you." Mindlink, indeed. Or some stubborness removal.

"Selphie Tilmitt," Ooooh, the whole name there, "You are the most stubborn, demanding, .... stuck up woman I know." Irvine says as he watches that little snobbish display of hers. He always hated that in other women, the upturned nose, the lifted chin. In Selphie it seemed childlike, charming, beautiful, so he'd hardly really noticed it. "And of course you're including me, you're mad at -me- now!" He sighs, actually starting to look a little weary at this. So they've exchanged their insults now. What next?

Eek. The whole name...! --And Selphie just called him 'cocky.' He called her three things! Three whole things! She owes him two. Eyes opening, now glaring! up at the Cadet again, the girl oooooo!s, angrily. "--Stuck up?! Demanding?!" She -knows- she's stubborn. Turning around, she grabs one of the chairs. Er -- is she gonna assault him? ...No... She slams it down right in front of him, though, and actually jumps up on top of it, so that she doesn't have to yell -up- at him. And with the added height, she's just a -bit- taller than him. Not by much, though. Hands on her hips, she shouts, "At least I'm some kinda' horny jerk with an ego the size of the sun!" So -there-! ...Waaah... She just wants him to hug heeeer. Sniffle.

Ooooh, now -that's- it. Grabbing at Selphie's waist, Irvine does not at all like the fact that she has moved that chair so now she's staring down at -him- from that height. "Darlin', that is -quite- enough of that." Several of the onlookers have glanced at one another at the 'horny jerk' comment as if this was confirming their thoughts. "And you enjoy me being a 'horny jerk' quite often so don't be getting in my face about -that-." He only intends to move her to the floor, no hefting her over his shoulders or anything.

--Hey! Selphie really has nowhere to go to dodge his hands, though does kick her feet as she's lifted. But! Said hands on her waist, even if it's not even an affectionate gesture, make her feel -that much better-. And give her enough of an advantage to shove her pride back into the closet it popped out of. So! Hopefully before she's set down, the girl moves to just wrap her arms around the cowboy's neck, even as she retorts, "--Not -often-... And you -are- a jerk." Waah...

Hey... Selphie's not letting go. Irvine is rather forced to hold onto her so he doesn't lose his balance or drop her or something and leave her hanging there. Taking a few staggering steps back, he sighs, suddenly really tired of the whole argument thing. "Yeah, well you're a snob," he counters, though it's said much more softly, and he's actually holding onto her, and he doesn't sound sincere about it at all. Awwwwww. From screaming at one another practically to suddenly embracing right there. The crowd starts to disperse already, their fun ending.

But she -won't- say she's sorry! Nuh uh! No way. "...Do we get to make up, now?" Nevermind the fact that her feet aren't touching the ground. She's gotten all that anger out, and now Selphie's pretty sure that being mad around Irvine is a yucky idea. She doesn't like arguing, even if they do get to make up afterwards, right?
Vincent pages: Not at all. n.n

Irvine fully agrees on that one, even though he doesn't realize she feels much the same. "Yeah, let's." And with that, he tucks his arm up under her legs, the other arm planted against her back, and starts to carry her off, out of the cafeteria. Who cares who sees it, dammit. His Sefie is all that matters right now.

Sigh! Life is good again. Just leeeaning against her cowboy as he carries her back to -their- room, Selphie decides that depending on how they make up, she may or may not pull this stuff again. Hee. Leaning her head against him, eyes shut, she -- "Crap--! Do you hear that?" Perking up at the sudden crashes, they're really kinda hard -not- to hear. "--Where's it coming from?!" Eek! Maybe Edgar is assaulting Terra, or something.

Indeed, Irvine does hear the sudden sound of breaking furniture and shattering glass. Slowly letting Selphie down, he glances along the corridor to pinpoint where it's coming from. No where near his-- their own room, that's a good thing. Is it near Selphie's old room? He can't tell at first, gesturing for her to stay somewhat behind him as he starts forward toward the source of the disturbing ruckus. Vincent's room.
      
Clasping her hands in front of her as she's set down, Selphie watches Irvine, worried. Not her room, not Irvine's, and obviously not Terra's... Vincent's room making those sort of noises never even crosses her mind, even if it -is- from that direction. "--Irvy--", she says, a kind of silent 'be careful.' Of course, she can't stay where she -is-, instead trotting behind him, warily. What's happening?! Eek!

Irvine is actually polite enough to knock on Vincent's door. "Captain?" he calls, before trying to see if he can get the door open. If someone's -attacking- Vincent in there, he doesn't want to wait for an invitation to get in and help. Of course, he has no idea what's going on in there, so caution is the better part of valor here.

Trying to peer past Irvine, even if the door is shut still, Selphie is worried! It -is- Vincent's room! What's going on? She does tense, however, if the door is opened -- she suspects someone else is in there, of course, so is expecting a scuffle!

The door knob will turn and open of course. He didn't lock it. However, a pile of papers is in the the... little space between floor and door, scattered over the floor you see. Mmm, There's sudden silence, and Vincent's voice, "What?" The rage and... sheer anger is evident, as he is not doing one thing to hide it. The only thing that keeps him from saying 'go away' in fact, is the fact that he might have to answer to duty.
                      
The first thing Irvine notices, of course, is the scattering of papers on the floor. Ooookay. He doesn't do more then glance over them, and therefore doesn't know -what- the are, namely Squall's report. Then, that -voice-, he winces to hear it. Good god, what in the world was -that-? But, now that the door is open, Irvine's voice is a little clearer to be heard. Yes, it's the cowboy come to check in on his teacher, the other resident gunman of Balamb. "V-vincent? What's going on in here, is everything ok?" Peeking in behind him is chaos to his mayhem, Selphie.

Eek! Vincent? Mad? Vincent doesn't get anything but uncomfortable to her. Why is he mad? How lovely it is to be blissfully unawares, huh, Selphie? "Vincey~...?" Obviously, there's no one -else- in there, so... What's going oo~oon? Peeking all about, hardly looking like the Trained Killing Machine that she really should be in this situation, the girl looks all worried and such.

Aaah, the room. Not only is the folder full of papers that was once an orderly report on the floor, but also, it seems as though he shoved all the papers (and it was quite a stack) that once rested on the long table in the main room, to the ground. There are chairs scattered on their sides, for they were in the way of his random path across the room. Glass and water splatter the floor near the wall... It was once a pitcher and a glass full of water. There's other random objects on the ground. The only thing that really remains untouched really, is.. is.. the guns and equipment, still in one corner. That's almost to be expected. Vincent? He's at the doorway to the small bedroom, leaning heavily against the doorframe. The anger heard in his voice hangs like a blanket... an aura over his person. Something that can almost be touched in and of itself. "I am fine." comes the short, curt reply, a belated attempt to keep his voice, at least, calm. "What do you want?" he's almost demanding it all. He's still fully dressed - it seems he just came in recently.

Not even attempting to enter the room, cornflower blue eyes merely glancing over the destruction suddenly, Irvine gets an odd suspicion that something, though he's not sure -what-, has ticked off Vincent royally. "We... heard noises in the hall, wanted to make sure nothing was attacking you." It was altruistic, really! Of course, in the face of such intense anger from someone the cowboy has really come to look up to and respect, he sounds rather small suddenly. Feeling like a little kid standing in front of a very angry parent.

Well, Selphie feels like that all the time. Never stopped her before. So, despite Irvine's wishes, she'll duck under his arm so that she can enter the room, first focusing on the Captain-type. Of course, as she hears papers beneath her feet, she glances down, trying to find a clear place to stand, so she's not adding to the destruction. "--We were -worried-! And you are -not- fine." Not angry, or annoyed, just... Intent on finding out why Vincent trashed his room. "--So what the heck just happened, here?! Don't -even- blame it on a misfired wind spell!"

Vincent's eyes narrow slightly. Silence, one, two, three... "My apologies." And *slam*, like a wall dropped down between Vincent and the young couple, the anger goes away.... No, not away. It's just restrained under an iron clad force of will. Well, almost. It's still there, a fire in those blood red eyes, the way he bares his teeth for a moment before speaking, "There is nothing attacking me." he simply lost control for a moment, that's all... yeah. He takes a deep breath, looking to Selphie, "I am sorry. You will not be troubled again." Uh...huh.

Though that's something Irvine -really- wishes he was able to do, wall up emotions like that in some sort of storage, the cowboy isn't so convinced that he's suddenly angry, and then not angry. Still a little uneasy after seeing that, he leans in the doorframe, glancing at Selphie as if ready to snatch her by the back of her dress and drag her out to the safety of the hallway any second. Sure, he trusts Vincent. But, he trusts -no one's- temper. People say and do a lotta things in anger that they don't mean and/or regret afterwards. "What happened?" Now is when he starts to reassess the destruction, blue eyes falling on the papers near the door. He recognizes some of it, having seen the report previously via Squall, and even starts to crouch down to glance at it, fingers brushing at the pages.

Ooooh, how annoying! But Selphie seemingly accepts this, nodding. "Okay." Turning around calmly, it takes only a moment for her to spin back around, point!ing at the man. Stomp!ing her little foot, hands now fists, the little brunette obviously doesn't buy it. "--Whatever! C'mon, Vincey~! Don't be this way! We didn't come -over- here 'cause you were bothering us, and even if you're not getting attacked or anything, that doesn't mean we're just gonna -leave-." Basically, she's backing up Irvine's simple question. "Besides, we're all s'posedto get along, like in those after-school specials, and tell everyone our problems."

Vincent's eyes narrow again as Irvine touches at the very heart of the matter... More physically so than most metaphors. And Selphie's words catch his attention again before he can answer Irvine. Get along? Hah. "Then stay, if you wish. I do not care." he responds in a tone of resignation mixed with muted anger. But /that/, at least, is not directed at Irvine or Selphie. That Vincent retreats into the shadows of the alcove which houses the bed soon after he says that, however... Well, how much he'll tolerate further conversation remains to be seen.

Irvine doesn't get up right away either, scanning over the report. He seems, well, momentarily not there. Distant. The banter between Vincent and Selphie is lost on him. '24-Hour Memory Loss' Is that why Vincent was suddenly angered? Hard to say. It got to the younger gunman in a much different way, for reasons solely his own. No, he convinces himself, he's merely displacing his own concerns for Squall onto this situation, not right to do that. Shuffling the report, he snatches up the pages of it, rising to his feet again to organize them. Give himself something to do. Silent all this time. Besides, Selphie's doing a fine job of pulling Vincent out of his proverbial emotional 'cave'.

"--Well, good then! Cause we are!" Selphie is, of course, assuming that Irvine shares her same opinion. And though Irvine is busying himself with something she would love to read, she doesn't know this. Too focused on Vincent. And as he retreats to the little bedroom nook, the SeeD has no problem with trotting after him, pausing at the door frame, however. "Vincey...?" She really doesn't want to make him angry, and if he doesn't -really- want her to stay, she -will- leave. So she -tries- not to say anything that might be taken the wrong way. ...Ah ha! "--When -I- get upset, I just talk to Mr. Radar..." Mr. Radar. Yes, her stuffed teddybear. "And he doesn't mind if I punch him in the face or strangle him. I can let you borrow him, if Irvine says it's okay." Since she did, afterall, give the bear to him.

Vincent has this feeling, privately, that 'Mr. Radar' is indeed a stuffed animal of some sort. Buuuut. Vincent is already seated on the edge of the bed. Then laying down. Irvine's actions are ignored... either in true ignorance, or in simply wishing not to see if Irvine has guessed. Selphie, and her presence, helps with the continuing shield of naivete. "Selphie..." it's almost a warning. Followed by a sigh, and an attempt to explain at another angle. "I lost control. But I will be all right. I need to settle matters in my own way." Well... even if Selphie /has/ seen Vincent's ah... manner of releasing his anger... it's not like he feels totally comfortable with just outright saying 'look, until I become a beast and rend something limb to limb, I'm not going to get better'. It's... just not common parlance.

Irvine steps forward, setting the reshuffled and ordered report on the edge of the nearest table, desk, surface of some sort. He's not really looking, so don't ask him what he just set it on. This is just in time to hear Vincent's explanation to Selphie. Well, that clinches it. The younger gunman might not have lost control, but there was an inner rage lit as he read that report, himself. "Selphie," he says quietly, reaching out for her arm to start pulling her back, "Maybe it's better if we leave him be." Kawn is not a subject he wishes to discuss, broach, think about or have anymore nightmares over. If Vincent suspects and Squall -knows- Irvine's sure that Vincent will be privvy to that information soon, if he's not already. Time to beat a hasty retreat.

Suddenly, a little lightbulb up in Selphie's mind clicks on, at Vincent's words. Eek. Don't want Mr. Radar getting shredded to pieces! That would be, like, bad. And as she tries to think of something to say, an Irvinehand is on her arm, and she's tugged. Glancing back to Irvine for a moment, she then looks to Vincent, even if he's lying down, and all. "--Well! ...Feel better, okay?" Letting herself get pulled away, the girl was going to leave anyway, so -there-. Nya.

Nightmares. That's another thing that Vincent's been having much of, lately. And without Siren and Lu around to talk him out of... well, he's regressing, that's what it is. Not like Squall's regression mind. But, after all that hard work. Sigh. "Thank you." Despair colors the gunman's tone. Eyes close. He has to become calm again. In control again. "Thank you." he adds, in a tone that is a little quieter than before.

Wordlessly, Irvine nods to Vincent whether he sees it or not, still tugtuging Selphie out of the man's room. Once they've both exited, the door will be summarily shut again, to leave the older gunman to his thoughts, nightmares, whatever.

Glancing back to the door once they're out, Selphie lets out a little sigh!. "What do you think made him so maaaad...?" She won't press the subject, honest. She's just curious. Making up was forgotten, but is now surfacing, so she'll make her conversation quick.

Irvine thinks he knows, and thinks it has to do with that report. However, he doesn't voice this aloud. In fact, he doesn't say anything as he lets Selphie's hand go and suddenly starts toward hi-- their room. Then again, his pace picks up considerably the last few steps as he slips through the door, leaving it open for Selphie to follow at her leisure. So... what's up with -that-?

"--Heeey!", follows the cowboy, as he doesn't respond. Closing the door with her foot, Selphie pauses by the door, hands on her hips. "...You could at -least- say 'no,'" the girl explains in a mock-huff. Oh, well. If he knew something, he'd tell her! Right? Right. Poor Vincey, either way.

The hat and duster were hung up already, rather quickly, in fact, and as Selphie enters, he's already started drifting back toward the bed to sit down and pull his boots off. He looks solemn, thoughtful, distant. He still doesn't say anything either, but it's not because he doesn't want to tell Selphie any of it, he's just disturbed. Very disturbed.

Pausing to consider the Cadet in front of her, Selphie looks vaguely lost for a moment. "...Irvy...?" Is Vincent's mood catching? Hope not! Moving to perch beside him on the bed and pull her own boots off, she glances at him sideways, curiously. "Is something wrong...?"

"Nothing, Darlin'," Irvine lies. She knows what happened to him with Kawn already, and he doesn't feel it needs to be rehashed. "Just tired." After the boots comes the chaps, but he actually leaves his jeans on this time, for some psychological reason unwilling to be naked or just wear boxers tonight. Scooting back on the bed, he stretches out, letting Selphie interprete that as she will.

Selphie really needs to stay on top of things. She's totally lost. Totally. What else is new? Giving Irvine a confused glance as she rises from the bed, she questions his jeans even as she opens 'her' drawer. "Why dont'cha take your jeans off, Irvy? Isn't it more comfy without them...?" Nooo, it's not 'cause she wants to see the Irvybutt. She just doesn't understand why being tired consists of leaving your pants on. Selecting a lil' tanktop for her tastes tonight, Selphie -- yes, she's changing! Right here! -- unziiips her dress. Though her back -is- to the cowboy, in her feeble attempts to still be modest. "And your vest?"

Irvine has rolled over so his back is to her, trying not to cause embarassment to Selphie while she dresses. Hmm, no he hadn't taken the vest off either, but he doesn't want to. He -needs- them both on right now. Eesh, this is a -great- time for the things he'd been trying to keep under emotional lock and key to suddenly be cropping up. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Acute with Delayed Onset, the psychologists would say. "Not tonight." Hmmm, how does he explain this to her?

...Not tonight? "--...Okay," she finally says, pulling the top over her head even as she talks. "Are you cold...?" Why else would someone want their clothes on to sleep in? Especially with a Sefie in the bed! Well, soon enough. Folding her dress and setting it on top of her other various clothings, she leaves the drawer open, turning back to the bed. "Are you sure you're okay?" Perching at the edge, a hand rests on his leg.

Not expecting her to touch him, Irvine jerks his leg away without meaning to. If he'd seen her coming, known she was going to, well, he would have been able to brace himself for it, endured it. Since when has he ever -not- wanted her to touch him? He sits up then, scooting back so he's slouched against the pillow. "I... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that." Now he's getting concerned, not understanding why he reacted that way. "'m not cold, just, I don't know what's wrong with me tonight."

Oh!'ing in surprise, Selphie pulls her hand away quickly, as if she were bitten. And if her voice wasn't enough, she -looks- downright surprised, with a little tinge of confusion, to boot. Mouth slightly agape, she just -looks- at the cowboy, as if the answer would be written on his face. "...Oh," she says, after a longish silence. That kinda hurt. Did he take their argument seriously? Is he angry at her? Folding her hands in her lap, the SeeD fidgets. He doesn't want her to touch him, obviously... So... "Should I, uhm... Should I go?"

"No, please, don't go," Irvine says, slowly sinking down again so he's laying on the bed, head on the pillow. His hair spills out over the white pillowcase, fanned out and slightly wavey from the ponytail holder he'd pulled out already. He reaches up to rub at his eyes. "'m sorry, Sefie, I don't know what's wrong. I just, I feel, wrong." Well, that's only half true, he knows what's wrong but he doesn't understand why he can't control these oddball impulses. He doesn't want -anyone- touching him, this isn't anything personally directed toward his fiancee. However, he decides this has -gotta- be nipped in the bud and he suddenly reaches for Selphie to pull her down next to him and wrap his arms around her.

Glancing to Irvine as he responds, Selphie is honestly at a loss here. He jerked away from her touch, but doesn't want her to leave? Nose wrinkling faintly at her confusion, her lips purse, as she tries to figure out what he means. He feels wrong? Vincent didn't say anything to him, she knows -that-. Nothing that would make him feel yucky, anyway. And as she thinks, she almost misses Irvine's movement. Blinking back to reality as she feels his move, the girl lets out a little surprised cry -- moreso at the fact that he just pulled away from her a moment ago, and is now pulling her -to- him. Though she doesn't protest, no way. She even snuggles into place, though that doesn't mean she's any less confused. "I don't understand," she finally admits, even if he said he didn't know what was wrong.

"Well, that makes two of us then," Irvine responds as he reaches up to hit the light switch. He thrusts those strange, alien feelings deep down inside somewhere, somewhere he hoped he'd never pull them up from again. Having taken the initiative this time, he kisses Selphie's forehead, slowly growing used to her being against him again. "It's not you though, Darlin'. It's not you. I love you." Maybe he's just tired, yeah, he'll go to sleep and when he wakes up everything will be right again. "Just don't ever leave me," he murmurs sleepily, already giving himself over to the dreamlands as the room is now dark.

Men are so weird! Irvine thinks -women- are weird... Sheesh. Though his words do soothe her, calm her fears. Whew. Cuddling against the larger cowboy, Selphie nods silently. "I'd never leave you!", she assures. "I love you too much to do something stupid like that..." The end of her statement turns into a yawn -- indeed, a dark room can work wonders. Mmm... Sleepy time with Irvy.