Guadosalam was in a state of anarchy—true anarchy. Technically Jyscal was still usurped, but his usurper was no where to be found, much less listened to. No one had taken over since then, because no one felt the need to.
The situation seemed hopeless, so no one was disappointed anymore because no one got their hopes up and then crushed.
No one told you what to do. No one told you there was no to tell you what to do.
No one worked, but no one depended on anyone working anymore. People slept in beds that weren't theirs; read book that didn’t belong to them, and ate food that had been bought by someone else. No one seemed to mind. Someone was sleeping in their bed, reading their books, and eating their food.
No one stole anything because there was nowhere to put it.
No one broke anything—intentionally at least—because no one else cared. There was no violence because no one could work up a desire to go to that much work. Besides, there was no point. No one was in charge because no one wanted to be in charge and no one wanted to listen.
Other than a force that was an expert at turning the planes of reality into origami was coming towards them and nothing could be done to stop it or even persuade it to be a bit nicer, everyone was downright amiable.
…………………
Anarchy does however, have its drawbacks. Those who were formerly in charge find themselves in difficult positions. The problem is never that the general population isn’t listening, it’s that they aren’t listening because someone completely different isn’t listening and that’s why the leader can’t be there to make the general population listen.
It wasn’t’ anarchy on Mt Gagazet. It wasn’t remotely any sort of government or even people mildly getting along. It was just people not getting along with any random other person. There were no actual defined sides, but everyone seemed to think that they should be mildly in charge of someone else, no matter who. This created quite a mess.
The mess consisted of what remained of the Cid’s army—including him—was arguing with the remains of the Ronso army.
The fight had never been about who was right or who was wrong, but there were two sides left, so they went to fighting each other.
In one sense it was a good thing, for the fight had no casualties to it, despite how long it went on and how adamant all participants were to finish it in some way having won, but in another sense nothing was resolved—ever—but whatever side of the moral coin, or place in the moral spectrum the instance fell upon, it happened: all the weapons had melted in the series of fireballs, save for the one owned by the single man with one eye, seemingly less than that in the way of social mores, but had broken the scale in determination.
He, by the way, was right where he wanted to be, and no where anyone else wanted him to be, and even less where anyone expected him to be. He’d been in the last for quite a while, although such a place had moved over time.
Before anyone noticed—and it was not many—several other things unfolded.
The doors to the palace had been left open. There hadn't been a guard in them for weeks.
Jyscal had felt that it was better for whatever bloody event that might occur shouldn’t’ be stopped because he felt things could in no way get worse and anyone dying would make things better for him, especially mood-wise. Plus if he got killed, he’d no longer have the headache he had now.
No such luck, things seemed to be as peaceful as they got in Guadosalam now.
What Jyscal wouldn’t give for a few rampaging beasts or antisocialists with too much firepower than they’d actually need to make a point. He’d settle for a natural disaster, so long as the population in the palace went down in number.
Despite the current condition of the doors, there was a strange crashing noise and a lot of noise that sounded vaguely like voices from where Jyscal was coming from the downstairs.
Since it wasn’t immediately followed by shooting, it could only mean one thing. THEY were back.
He decided to stay where he was and hope they’d all quiet down long enough for him to try to ignore them for a while.
He’d been pacing in his bedroom. He’d worn a trench through to tiles on the floor. The wood under it was starting to wear.
Juuno was nowhere to be found, but at the moment that was good. He liked her around, but now he liked her around far enough away that her scolding him wasn’t one of his problems.
He knew what was happening, what the idiots downstairs would probably do, and that his wife would get mad about their idiotic actions which were completely out of his hands.
He’d arranged what he could do. He’d dealt with the general populace, which were cooperating nicely by not doing anything that concerned him, but he still felt tense, and the only way to relieve any of the tension was to wear a long hole in his expensive floor.
The end of the world as you know it does things like that to you.
"Who’s been boning you?" The words came from the direction of the window.
Jyscal is not a person who jumps at surprises. He does, however, get angry.
However, such was no the case. He was confused.
"You?" Jyscal asked. There was a one-eyed assassin in his window… who was armed. Jyscal considered joining the ‘guests’ downstairs.
The he wondered if Maln knew they were there and why he hadn’t destroyed them all along with most of the palace.
"Do you want something…?" Jyscal asked.
"Fuck yeah," Maln said.
"Where’s Anzi?" Jyscal asked, cutting Maln off before he could demand anything.
"Fuck man, I wasn’t gonna fucking bring her here!"
"And why the hell not?"
"’Cause that little shit’s coming this way," Maln said. "Don’t’ want sin to fuck with you, go where it’s just fucking been."
"I never knew you were that smart," Jyscal said, hoping he’d interpreted Maln correctly. "But that doesn’t explain where she is. Nor does it guarantee her safety."
"Left her in Zanarkand, with some fucking queer. He’ll watch her."
"Just so long as her isn’t dead," Jyscal said, then sighed. "You’re here to get the codes for the airhsip now I take it."
"Fuck no!"
"I’m sorry?"
"Been there, fuck that," Maln said.
"I don’t believe I’ve heard that expression before," Jyscal said.
"Got me a damn ride on it. Real bitch of a time not killing one of them, though."
"And you didn’t why?" Jyscal asked. He had nothing personal against any of the Al Behd. He didn’t have anything personal for them either, though.
Maln smiled. The late sunlight glinted off his piercings and hair. Jyscal was surprised a smile like that didn’t come with fangs.
"I don’t want to know, do I?"
Maln didn’t do anything. He wasn’t going to kill a Guado, but they were still fun to scare.
"What exactly is it you want?"
"I still fucking want to get paid. Guns and money."
"Why would you need money?"
"Fucking buy stuff. Like guns."