8-27-12: NEW SECTION ADDED
Random Waltz
A Final Fantasy Tactics Fanfiction by Myst Knight
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy Tactics is owned by Square Enix. I write this without consent, and am making no money off of it.
This story is rated T for Ideologically sensitive material (forbidden sibling romance), violence, and some sexuality. For OLDER TEEN AND UP.
No offense intended by the controversial content (and as always, don't try this at home!)
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Dorter Trade City, Middle Ages
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-
In the small towns of Ivalice, life had regained a semblance of normalcy since the Death Corps rebellion almost two years ago. People of all walks in life went about their business between the short stocky buildings and down the claustrophobic alleyways. But scars of war ran deep, and the relationship between the old nobility and disgruntled peasants remained as strained as ever. It had actually become a sort of competition for the two social classes, with one always trying to come out ahead of the other, in their own exclusive ways.
Today, two peasants of an unsavory persuasion were revenging themselves upon the nobility for slights envisioned. But their sinister motives went far beyond even the most frustrated of citizens, and ugly hearts suited neither social class.
"Stop it! Leave me alone!" Alma cried, trying to wrench her wrist free of the gangly man that had ensnared it.
"Come on, cutie, don't be like that." The man grinned, more so at his burly counterpart beside him than the girl he was holding. "We followed you all the way from downtown just to meet you."
"A student from the Igros Aristocratic Academy is a rare treat for us down here in Dorter," the burly man agreed with a leer, moving closer to her. "Why don't you play a few schoolyard games with us?"
She winced at his intrusion, his ragged breath hot on her neck like a branding iron for Chocobo.
The young Beoulve had been cornered by the two ruffians at an abandoned booth just south of the Dorter marketplace, while her brother Ramza was gathering war supplies at the general store two blocks down. Alma has not considered that her proper dress would make her a target, and had carelessly begun perusing the stalls close to the slums. With police patrols on the other side of town, and the booth hiding her from view of the main road, she felt Ramza's absence more keenly than ever. The men were collapsing against her like a clap-trap, and she fought the urge to panic.
"You nobles always think you're too good for us regular citizens," the skinny man hissed, a distinct growl permeating his former joviality. He lifted the hem of Alma's skirt to treat himself to a look at her bare legs and white panties. "Why are men as fit as us stuck with scullery maids and whores, while wrinkly old fossils from the aristocracy see fit to ravish any young tart they wish?"
"No!" Alma shrieked, tugging back at her hem. "Let go of that!" Her blush erupted two-fold, the pristine nature of her drawers somehow making her feel that much more indecent. The two men only laughed at her struggles, keeping her pinned against the side of the stall.
They sniggered once again, their hands moving lower. (Ramza, help me!) she thought fervently, as the hoodlums prepared to touch her body.
"Alma, are these men bothering you?" ...and a strong voice broke into their scuffle, alerting all parties to a new arrival turning the corner.
"Brother Ramza!" Alma yelped, straining against the mens' grasp.
From the densely packed crowds in the marketplace, Ramza Beoulve was making a beeline for the small group, advancing upon them at a rapid pace. The two ruffians gawked dumbly, perhaps at the contrast between the young lad's fair skin and his rugged, mercenary duds. Alma made use of this distraction to kick hard at the skinny man's shin, causing him to howl in pain. Breaking free of his grip, she quickly darted behind her brother, holding her skirt tightly against her rear.
"What the hell're you doin', kid?" the skinny man grunted, once again making a move towards Alma. "You better get out of here before..."
BRAK! a rock-hard fist collided against the bridge of his nose, crushing bone and cartilage and sending him sprawling on his back. The burly man caught a sudden strain of fear as he watched his friend waddle about on the cold earth, holding his face as blood dribbled under his hand and down his chin. They looked back towards Ramza, who stood before them like a guardian angel.
"Get lost!" the boy growled, his soft features contorted in a furious scowl. "Never come near my sister again."
They dawdled a bit more, panicking with indecision. Then, with a bluster of grumbling, they scampered off towards their rat cellars deep within the slums, leaving the two alone by the abandoned stall.
Ramza watched them go, his lip twisting with barely restrained disgust. After another moment of uneasy silence, Alma sidled over to him, straightening the pink bow binding her ponytail. "I'm sorry to have worried you, brother," she apologized, giving him a sheepish smile as she smoothed her skirt self-consciously.
"Alma, please be more careful around the slums," he chided the girl, though his concern for her was overriding any sternness in his tone. "You don't know of the kind of people that loiter around this place like I do."
"Thank you for stopping those men," she said, cutting off his lecture with a gentle gaze.
Ramza halted for a moment, looking like he had more to add. But he just nodded and strode towards the marketplace, with Alma following after him.
Together, the two siblings left the stall to mix in with the masses of people. The townsfolk surrounding them formed a uncomfortable cocoon, squeezing them against each other at they struggled onward through the crowd. Alma felt the warmth of the boy's body, his wiry muscles like stone and his bare shoulders like mountain ledges. She could not help but recognize Ramza as a man in this instance, and blushed slightly at the close contact.
Alma stole a glance around the marketplace to see if Ramza's comrades or anyone she knew from Igros happened to be in the area. Finding no one of the sort, she took a quick breath, and looped her arm around her brother's biceps. Ramza stiffened a bit at the intimate touch, but soon relaxed and offered his arm to the girl in a gesture of forgotten gentry. They continued on, looking for all the world like a young high-society couple arranged by their parents, and no one was the wiser.
It had only been a scant few days since Alma and her brother decided to explore the mutual attraction they had developed for each other since the Lion War had shown them who and what was truly important. Ramza was still a bit reluctant to initiate any romantic contact of his own, sticking mostly to familiar patterns of brother and sister conduct, but never did he deny that there was more that filial love between them. For argument's sake, Alma had pointed out to him that marriage within the immediate family was quite common for noble bloodlines, although she admitted the closest blood relation between legitimate spouses within the past one hundred years was that of a half-brother and half sister, ever since the divine prophet Ajora had appeared and proclaimed that incest between full siblings was immoral. Still, their views on religion had soured due to the emergence of Zodiac Knights as demon spawn, so neither of them truly knew what to feel about this.
She couldn't help but mention that their Zodiac signs lined up quite well. Considering their collection of Zodiac stones, such a notion was quite humorous to the both of them.
"Did you find all the supplies you needed?" Alma asked Ramza, as a means of beginning conversation.
"Yes," he answered simply, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. "I purchased a new sword for Agrias that I think will suit her."
"And did you bring me any flowers from the florist?" she hinted, moving a bit closer to him.
"Flowers?" Here, Ramza goggled at her as if he were a Chocobo under a poacher's gun. "I didn't think of it, and I don't know if we have money to spare for that..."
"Brother, I'm teasing you." She smiled gently, stopping him before he could get too flustered.
Ramza remained wide-eyed for a moment more, then turned away and coughed into his fist, obviously trying to regain his composure. The girl stifled a laugh at his demeanor; it was fun knocking him down a peg or two.
Alma then stared into the crowd, her eyes sorting through the men and women as her heart turned to more serious matters. "It's things like this make me wish I had been born male, so I would be able to walk the streets alone," she sighed, wistfully pulling at her dust cloak. "I hate burdening you, Ramza."
The blond boy's placid expression dissipated into a frown; the same frown he always wore whenever she brought this subject up. Alma could feel indignation welling up within her chest, and she suspected she would again have to bicker with Ramza over her ideas, an aspect of their relationship she wished could be put to rest. Her brother was the most perfect man she knew, but he was still her brother, so she supposed that his overprotective regard would never change. "Are you talking about dirtying your hands with war again?" he questioned her. "I still wish I could talk you out of this."
"Maybe it's not a woman's place to fight in wars," she began with a huff, her fingers reflexively digging into Ramza's skin. "But is it a woman's place to be tormented on her trips to the market?"
"That's not it." Ramza shook his head, his bangs lofting about on his forehead. "Alma, I already promised I'd teach you everything you need to know so that you won't be hassled on the streets and can live how you want," he clarified. "But I never want you to forget the woman you are."
"What are you saying?" Alma looked at her brother with confusion.
Ramza met her eyes again, and took a deep breath. "I'm saying you are beautiful, my dear sister," he told her. "Those men may try and abuse you for it, but I truly appreciate this about you."
Alma reared back from him in shock. "That's the first time you've ever said something like that to me." she spoke quietly, and a glow of pure pleasure arose on her cheeks.
Ramza's own blush caught up with the rest of his face, and he was taken over by a boyish bout of skittishness. "Well, uh, I figured that if we are, er...seeing each other in a romantic way, I should behave as a gentleman and um..."
"Ramza, don't ruin it," the girl whispered, her finger drifting over his lips. "Hush."
Ramza stared cross-eyed at her finger under his nose, his mouth frozen in an unfinished statement. But he took the cue from his younger sibling, and said no more about it.
A spark of inspiration gleamed in Ramza's eye. Deftly, he removed Alma's fingers from his arm as to free it. As she blinked in confusion, he encircled the girl's waist, his hand resting just a few centimeters shy of her hip. Alma's heart leapt up to her throat as her brother pulled her snugly to his side, almost crushing her against him.
"If they see us like this, they won't bother you," he explained, his cheeks reddening in spite of himself. "Stay close to me."
Alma beamed, throwing her own arm around Ramza. "Always, brother," she laughed gaily.
Ramza was truly getting more and more romantic with her. In this day and age where women were casually dismissed, being female was a reason to be wary in of itself. But if she could be a woman for her brother, she would cherish her femininity for as long as she lived. Even with all the warts of war-torn Ivalice, Alma dearly loved the opportunities she had been offered, and thus loved her country.
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*****
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The two walked a little ways into the shadow of a cluster of buildings. "We're here," Ramza announced, his voice echoing against the dreary dwellings hanging over them.
Alma took a look around. The place Ramza had led them to appeared to be nothing more than a vacant lot in the poor part of town. She recognized it from her prior trips to Dorter as a area populated mainly by struggling families trying to make ends meet, so it was safer than the slums. However, it was night, and they really had no business being here. "What is this place, Brother Ramza?" she asked, her arm still around his back.
The boy broke away from her and took a few steps forward, then turned to face her. "This is the site of your training, Alma," he explained, his voice thick with commanding energy.
"You're going to fight me?" Alma felt shocked at this sudden change in attitude. "I thought you didn't like hitting girls, brother."
"Not what I had in mind," he corrected her, reaching out to her with an ironic smile. "May I have this dance?"
The girl's heart went pitter-patter in her chest, as he had surprised her for the second time that day. But she smiled in turn, nodding to him. "Yes, Ramza." was all she said. They stepped back from each other and bowed, with Ramza's hand across his chest, and Alma spreading the pleats of her skirt in a demure curtsy. Neither of them could keep the embarrassed smiles from their faces.
Quickly, Ramza pulled Alma to him, and the girl let out a short gasp as she bumped up against his chest. Their hands scrambled for the proper positions, but soon their fingers were interlocked, their arms around each other. With Ramza keeping her steady, he began to lead her into the first few steps. Figuring he had a waltz in mind, she followed suit, and all tension fled her.
Ramza and Alma were now whirling about the vacant lot like hand-rafted figures in a music box. Illuminated by dimly lit street lamps, they appeared as two glowing angels, brighter than any of the knights from the scriptures. Maybe it was their familiarity with each other, or the very heredity they both shared, but they had both fallen into a easy rhythm. Their legs stepped back and forth between each other, and they nether stumbled nor trodded on each other's toes.
Alma giggled as she twirled under Ramza's hand, her skirt fanning out around her. "Brother...!" She beamed, delighted with the boy's manner towards her. In an continuation of that manner, the boy pulled his partner close to his chest, Alma's nostrils picking up his masculine scent. The girl just sighed, as she swayed in time with an imaginary tune.
As they continued to dance, Alma made a silent resolution to herself. She would continue to persuade her brother to teach her to fight, and she would also remember the gentle arts she was taught in preparatory school. After all, dancing was the legacy their parents had left them. They would remember themselves both as brother and sister, and man and woman.
'Fin'
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Notes: Since you can choose the month in which Ramza was born in FFT, there's no reason why he can't have a compatible Zodiac sign with Alma. Though I believe Ramza's default sign is Aries, which bodes well for Alma's Leo. In any case, ha, ha, ha, ha ha.
This fanfic is compliant with the original American script for the PSX version of Final Fantasy Tactics. Long live PSX Final Fantasy Tactics!
Random Waltz
A Final Fantasy Tactics Fanfiction by Myst Knight
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy Tactics is owned by Square Enix. I write this without consent, and am making no money off of it.
This story is rated T for Ideologically sensitive material (forbidden sibling romance), violence, and some sexuality. For OLDER TEEN AND UP.
No offense intended by the controversial content (and as always, don't try this at home!)
-
-
Dorter Trade City, Middle Ages
-
-
In the small towns of Ivalice, life had regained a semblance of normalcy since the Death Corps rebellion almost two years ago. People of all walks in life went about their business between the short stocky buildings and down the claustrophobic alleyways. But scars of war ran deep, and the relationship between the old nobility and disgruntled peasants remained as strained as ever. It had actually become a sort of competition for the two social classes, with one always trying to come out ahead of the other, in their own exclusive ways.
Today, two peasants of an unsavory persuasion were revenging themselves upon the nobility for slights envisioned. But their sinister motives went far beyond even the most frustrated of citizens, and ugly hearts suited neither social class.
"Stop it! Leave me alone!" Alma cried, trying to wrench her wrist free of the gangly man that had ensnared it.
"Come on, cutie, don't be like that." The man grinned, more so at his burly counterpart beside him than the girl he was holding. "We followed you all the way from downtown just to meet you."
"A student from the Igros Aristocratic Academy is a rare treat for us down here in Dorter," the burly man agreed with a leer, moving closer to her. "Why don't you play a few schoolyard games with us?"
She winced at his intrusion, his ragged breath hot on her neck like a branding iron for Chocobo.
The young Beoulve had been cornered by the two ruffians at an abandoned booth just south of the Dorter marketplace, while her brother Ramza was gathering war supplies at the general store two blocks down. Alma has not considered that her proper dress would make her a target, and had carelessly begun perusing the stalls close to the slums. With police patrols on the other side of town, and the booth hiding her from view of the main road, she felt Ramza's absence more keenly than ever. The men were collapsing against her like a clap-trap, and she fought the urge to panic.
"You nobles always think you're too good for us regular citizens," the skinny man hissed, a distinct growl permeating his former joviality. He lifted the hem of Alma's skirt to treat himself to a look at her bare legs and white panties. "Why are men as fit as us stuck with scullery maids and whores, while wrinkly old fossils from the aristocracy see fit to ravish any young tart they wish?"
"No!" Alma shrieked, tugging back at her hem. "Let go of that!" Her blush erupted two-fold, the pristine nature of her drawers somehow making her feel that much more indecent. The two men only laughed at her struggles, keeping her pinned against the side of the stall.
They sniggered once again, their hands moving lower. (Ramza, help me!) she thought fervently, as the hoodlums prepared to touch her body.
"Alma, are these men bothering you?" ...and a strong voice broke into their scuffle, alerting all parties to a new arrival turning the corner.
"Brother Ramza!" Alma yelped, straining against the mens' grasp.
From the densely packed crowds in the marketplace, Ramza Beoulve was making a beeline for the small group, advancing upon them at a rapid pace. The two ruffians gawked dumbly, perhaps at the contrast between the young lad's fair skin and his rugged, mercenary duds. Alma made use of this distraction to kick hard at the skinny man's shin, causing him to howl in pain. Breaking free of his grip, she quickly darted behind her brother, holding her skirt tightly against her rear.
"What the hell're you doin', kid?" the skinny man grunted, once again making a move towards Alma. "You better get out of here before..."
BRAK! a rock-hard fist collided against the bridge of his nose, crushing bone and cartilage and sending him sprawling on his back. The burly man caught a sudden strain of fear as he watched his friend waddle about on the cold earth, holding his face as blood dribbled under his hand and down his chin. They looked back towards Ramza, who stood before them like a guardian angel.
"Get lost!" the boy growled, his soft features contorted in a furious scowl. "Never come near my sister again."
They dawdled a bit more, panicking with indecision. Then, with a bluster of grumbling, they scampered off towards their rat cellars deep within the slums, leaving the two alone by the abandoned stall.
Ramza watched them go, his lip twisting with barely restrained disgust. After another moment of uneasy silence, Alma sidled over to him, straightening the pink bow binding her ponytail. "I'm sorry to have worried you, brother," she apologized, giving him a sheepish smile as she smoothed her skirt self-consciously.
"Alma, please be more careful around the slums," he chided the girl, though his concern for her was overriding any sternness in his tone. "You don't know of the kind of people that loiter around this place like I do."
"Thank you for stopping those men," she said, cutting off his lecture with a gentle gaze.
Ramza halted for a moment, looking like he had more to add. But he just nodded and strode towards the marketplace, with Alma following after him.
Together, the two siblings left the stall to mix in with the masses of people. The townsfolk surrounding them formed a uncomfortable cocoon, squeezing them against each other at they struggled onward through the crowd. Alma felt the warmth of the boy's body, his wiry muscles like stone and his bare shoulders like mountain ledges. She could not help but recognize Ramza as a man in this instance, and blushed slightly at the close contact.
Alma stole a glance around the marketplace to see if Ramza's comrades or anyone she knew from Igros happened to be in the area. Finding no one of the sort, she took a quick breath, and looped her arm around her brother's biceps. Ramza stiffened a bit at the intimate touch, but soon relaxed and offered his arm to the girl in a gesture of forgotten gentry. They continued on, looking for all the world like a young high-society couple arranged by their parents, and no one was the wiser.
It had only been a scant few days since Alma and her brother decided to explore the mutual attraction they had developed for each other since the Lion War had shown them who and what was truly important. Ramza was still a bit reluctant to initiate any romantic contact of his own, sticking mostly to familiar patterns of brother and sister conduct, but never did he deny that there was more that filial love between them. For argument's sake, Alma had pointed out to him that marriage within the immediate family was quite common for noble bloodlines, although she admitted the closest blood relation between legitimate spouses within the past one hundred years was that of a half-brother and half sister, ever since the divine prophet Ajora had appeared and proclaimed that incest between full siblings was immoral. Still, their views on religion had soured due to the emergence of Zodiac Knights as demon spawn, so neither of them truly knew what to feel about this.
She couldn't help but mention that their Zodiac signs lined up quite well. Considering their collection of Zodiac stones, such a notion was quite humorous to the both of them.
"Did you find all the supplies you needed?" Alma asked Ramza, as a means of beginning conversation.
"Yes," he answered simply, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. "I purchased a new sword for Agrias that I think will suit her."
"And did you bring me any flowers from the florist?" she hinted, moving a bit closer to him.
"Flowers?" Here, Ramza goggled at her as if he were a Chocobo under a poacher's gun. "I didn't think of it, and I don't know if we have money to spare for that..."
"Brother, I'm teasing you." She smiled gently, stopping him before he could get too flustered.
Ramza remained wide-eyed for a moment more, then turned away and coughed into his fist, obviously trying to regain his composure. The girl stifled a laugh at his demeanor; it was fun knocking him down a peg or two.
Alma then stared into the crowd, her eyes sorting through the men and women as her heart turned to more serious matters. "It's things like this make me wish I had been born male, so I would be able to walk the streets alone," she sighed, wistfully pulling at her dust cloak. "I hate burdening you, Ramza."
The blond boy's placid expression dissipated into a frown; the same frown he always wore whenever she brought this subject up. Alma could feel indignation welling up within her chest, and she suspected she would again have to bicker with Ramza over her ideas, an aspect of their relationship she wished could be put to rest. Her brother was the most perfect man she knew, but he was still her brother, so she supposed that his overprotective regard would never change. "Are you talking about dirtying your hands with war again?" he questioned her. "I still wish I could talk you out of this."
"Maybe it's not a woman's place to fight in wars," she began with a huff, her fingers reflexively digging into Ramza's skin. "But is it a woman's place to be tormented on her trips to the market?"
"That's not it." Ramza shook his head, his bangs lofting about on his forehead. "Alma, I already promised I'd teach you everything you need to know so that you won't be hassled on the streets and can live how you want," he clarified. "But I never want you to forget the woman you are."
"What are you saying?" Alma looked at her brother with confusion.
Ramza met her eyes again, and took a deep breath. "I'm saying you are beautiful, my dear sister," he told her. "Those men may try and abuse you for it, but I truly appreciate this about you."
Alma reared back from him in shock. "That's the first time you've ever said something like that to me." she spoke quietly, and a glow of pure pleasure arose on her cheeks.
Ramza's own blush caught up with the rest of his face, and he was taken over by a boyish bout of skittishness. "Well, uh, I figured that if we are, er...seeing each other in a romantic way, I should behave as a gentleman and um..."
"Ramza, don't ruin it," the girl whispered, her finger drifting over his lips. "Hush."
Ramza stared cross-eyed at her finger under his nose, his mouth frozen in an unfinished statement. But he took the cue from his younger sibling, and said no more about it.
A spark of inspiration gleamed in Ramza's eye. Deftly, he removed Alma's fingers from his arm as to free it. As she blinked in confusion, he encircled the girl's waist, his hand resting just a few centimeters shy of her hip. Alma's heart leapt up to her throat as her brother pulled her snugly to his side, almost crushing her against him.
"If they see us like this, they won't bother you," he explained, his cheeks reddening in spite of himself. "Stay close to me."
Alma beamed, throwing her own arm around Ramza. "Always, brother," she laughed gaily.
Ramza was truly getting more and more romantic with her. In this day and age where women were casually dismissed, being female was a reason to be wary in of itself. But if she could be a woman for her brother, she would cherish her femininity for as long as she lived. Even with all the warts of war-torn Ivalice, Alma dearly loved the opportunities she had been offered, and thus loved her country.
-
-
*****
-
-
The two walked a little ways into the shadow of a cluster of buildings. "We're here," Ramza announced, his voice echoing against the dreary dwellings hanging over them.
Alma took a look around. The place Ramza had led them to appeared to be nothing more than a vacant lot in the poor part of town. She recognized it from her prior trips to Dorter as a area populated mainly by struggling families trying to make ends meet, so it was safer than the slums. However, it was night, and they really had no business being here. "What is this place, Brother Ramza?" she asked, her arm still around his back.
The boy broke away from her and took a few steps forward, then turned to face her. "This is the site of your training, Alma," he explained, his voice thick with commanding energy.
"You're going to fight me?" Alma felt shocked at this sudden change in attitude. "I thought you didn't like hitting girls, brother."
"Not what I had in mind," he corrected her, reaching out to her with an ironic smile. "May I have this dance?"
The girl's heart went pitter-patter in her chest, as he had surprised her for the second time that day. But she smiled in turn, nodding to him. "Yes, Ramza." was all she said. They stepped back from each other and bowed, with Ramza's hand across his chest, and Alma spreading the pleats of her skirt in a demure curtsy. Neither of them could keep the embarrassed smiles from their faces.
Quickly, Ramza pulled Alma to him, and the girl let out a short gasp as she bumped up against his chest. Their hands scrambled for the proper positions, but soon their fingers were interlocked, their arms around each other. With Ramza keeping her steady, he began to lead her into the first few steps. Figuring he had a waltz in mind, she followed suit, and all tension fled her.
Ramza and Alma were now whirling about the vacant lot like hand-rafted figures in a music box. Illuminated by dimly lit street lamps, they appeared as two glowing angels, brighter than any of the knights from the scriptures. Maybe it was their familiarity with each other, or the very heredity they both shared, but they had both fallen into a easy rhythm. Their legs stepped back and forth between each other, and they nether stumbled nor trodded on each other's toes.
Alma giggled as she twirled under Ramza's hand, her skirt fanning out around her. "Brother...!" She beamed, delighted with the boy's manner towards her. In an continuation of that manner, the boy pulled his partner close to his chest, Alma's nostrils picking up his masculine scent. The girl just sighed, as she swayed in time with an imaginary tune.
As they continued to dance, Alma made a silent resolution to herself. She would continue to persuade her brother to teach her to fight, and she would also remember the gentle arts she was taught in preparatory school. After all, dancing was the legacy their parents had left them. They would remember themselves both as brother and sister, and man and woman.
'Fin'
-
Notes: Since you can choose the month in which Ramza was born in FFT, there's no reason why he can't have a compatible Zodiac sign with Alma. Though I believe Ramza's default sign is Aries, which bodes well for Alma's Leo. In any case, ha, ha, ha, ha ha.
This fanfic is compliant with the original American script for the PSX version of Final Fantasy Tactics. Long live PSX Final Fantasy Tactics!