[ The way she says it can only hope to force the pink to his cheeks and the hint of a bashful smirk on his face. His eyes dart away after locking with hers, as if staring at her for more than a few moments is too hard on the eyes, as warm and bright as she is.
Okay, settle down, Cloud. ]
Alright, then. [ It's a bit of an awkward break, but there's a bit of self-deprecating cheer to it. ] Guess it's a date.
[ Of course, now he has to try and take something approaching initiative, his eyes darting to and fro as he thinks. His head first tilting down at the floor, then up at the ceiling. ] It's a sleepy little town, but I heard there's some nice nighttime entertainment. We could... do that first, if we want to save ground zero for last. Let everyone clear out before we go get a look.
Might be there's some spots we can get a better view of the town from, too. Really get the lay of the land.
[ He's suggesting a little bit of everything. The nerves are admittedly on full display here. He's trying to downplay them, but if Cloud was transparent to Aerith before, he's even moreso now. ]
Oooh. [ Already, she's taking off to the door, arm outstretched as she reaches for the handle. A grin is splitting her face, wide and energetic, as she listens to him speak. It isn't that Aerith isn't listening to Cloud, but rather than she has a tease to wiggle into their conversation. ] A date, is it?
[ With that delivered, she can listen more clearly. The door swings open, now, and she twists to look at him with a smile. ] Think I might even know a place to get a decent aerial view now, too. So, you up for a little nighttime climb?
[ As Aerith responds, he can't help from keep the pink coloring his ears, making them stand out among the wild head of chocobo hair. He reaches for his sword at the same time Aerith reaches for the door, slotting it neatly on his back. He turns to her, and a smirk plays across his face a bit as he retorts. ]
As long as I don't need to haul you up from a broken ladder again. [ There's not a hint of malice there, and in fact, there's a sneaking suspicion he might even mean the opposite of that — it might've been one of the first times he went out of his way for Aerith, but it'd be far from the last. He even snorts in amusement. ]
[ His joke lands on her shoulders with a puff of annoyance, though it has no weight to it. He sure did leave her hanging for a bit at that time, hadn't he? She's repaid him twice over for the little tease, but she still can think of a way to thank him.
It's beyond the inn, the way she leads him, past the shadow of the building. They leave it in their wake as it falls tall and ominous along the cobblestones, broken and refitted throughout their long lives. Aerith takes him past the hubbub of the explosion, where a dull sense of urgency is flourishing still. It's odd, she thinks, how easily these things happen. She thinks of the plate falling, all the destruction weaving itself into the land like a parasite infecting a dying body. The fight for survival always dragged on.
It isn't until Aerith leads him beyond the city, into rolling hills and to the base of an old tree that she can speak without the memory of saving Marlene breathing down her neck, pulsing in her blood. ]
I'm starting to think, [ she says, softly, palm flat against the rough bark of the tree. The lingering embers of a fire burns in the center of the city, half-dead but half-alive, too. The tiny particles it spits glow red-orange, floating up into the open sky: A sight she has never beheld before now. ] Things are actually really dire here. Aren't they?
[ For Cloud, as they walk, his thoughts are partially of the Plate, but moreso of home — especially as the still-glowing embers of the city hall drift into the air. He swallows the lump in his through, one green-blue eye looking back to the past, to a town called Nibelheim. The other looking straight ahead at Aldrip. If it weren't for Aerith at his side, the rubble of the explosion would have caused him to relive those memories immediately, but her steady hand — sometimes literally dragging him forward — keeps him from lingering in his own head too long. Something he's deeply grateful for. ]
[ Of course, when they get to their destination, Aerith's question gets a barb in return, dull and ineffective. ] What, you mean besides the fact we're apparently all here to serve a sentence for a crime?
[ There's a beat after he says it, though, where he folds his arms and looks down at the ground — to not look at Aldrip, in the moment. A sleepy little town hiding secrets and prisoners. ]
...You're right, though. I've been feeling it, too. It's under the surface, so it's kind of hard to pinpoint what it is, but...
[ People don't just decide to blow up buildings for no reason. And something about all of this felt decidedly off. Like an edge he didn't expect for a town so small. ]
Know what, Cloud? I think you're right. They should give us a brochure to catch us up to speed!
[ Looks like they'll have to hit the ground running again, busting their asses to find the truth wedged into some kind of hole they'd have never found on their own. It's the same old story for a pair on the run, in the end. Aerith looks up at him, turning her head gently. The long brown braid of her hair slips over her shoulder as she squats onto the ground, knees hugged to her chest. A beat of silence punctures their conversation for a moment, lets the air out and there's a moment where she wonders if this is really all she's brought him out here for: To talk about the political landscape of a world they're stranded in. ]
The crime part... I don't know. I get this feeling... we're only at the first chapter. [ Slowly, her green gazes drifts down. It roves over to the flames dying down in the distance. ]
Would that it were that easy. Guess that just means we'll have to do it ourselves.
[ Take jobs. Make connections. Get information. Wash, rinse, repeat. It certainly fit their lifestyle, but he lets Aerith fall uncharacteristically silent as she squats on the hill. It's not like he's never seen her at her more melancholy... but it always takes him a bit off guard. ]
[ But then she opened up with the crime she was accused for. Which isn't something he was prepared to do... and he lets his shoulders sag a bit. A held breath escaping, as he sits down next to — not looking at her, not yet, but looking at towards the town as she looks down at the grass. Close enough they could brush against each other, shoulder to shoulder. But still giving enough of that distance that if she wanted to shy away, she could. ]
Abandonment, huh? Doesn't sound like you at all, if I'm being honest. Don't know if I've ever met a more stubborn person.
[ Despite the candidness, there is a hint of warmth to that tone. It's a compliment, to be sure. How many times had Aerith refused to even entertain the notion of an easier path when she could drag him along kicking and pouting? ]
But... let's say you're right. [ Because she's rarely wrong. ] The first chapter of... what, exactly? And how do our crimes play into that?
[ He feels like he's on the cusp of admitting his own crime, but he still doesn't know how to grapple with it. Abandonment sure didn't fit what he know of Aerith, and he couldn't think of why his crime was what it was. And above alll... he doesn't want this moment to be about him. Aerith's opening her heart, and he wants to be there and let her pour it out. ]
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identitycrisiscore) wrote2024-03-01 03:48 pm
no subject
Okay, settle down, Cloud. ]
Alright, then. [ It's a bit of an awkward break, but there's a bit of self-deprecating cheer to it. ] Guess it's a date.
[ Of course, now he has to try and take something approaching initiative, his eyes darting to and fro as he thinks. His head first tilting down at the floor, then up at the ceiling. ] It's a sleepy little town, but I heard there's some nice nighttime entertainment. We could... do that first, if we want to save ground zero for last. Let everyone clear out before we go get a look.
Might be there's some spots we can get a better view of the town from, too. Really get the lay of the land.
[ He's suggesting a little bit of everything. The nerves are admittedly on full display here. He's trying to downplay them, but if Cloud was transparent to Aerith before, he's even moreso now. ]
no subject
[ With that delivered, she can listen more clearly. The door swings open, now, and she twists to look at him with a smile. ] Think I might even know a place to get a decent aerial view now, too. So, you up for a little nighttime climb?
no subject
As long as I don't need to haul you up from a broken ladder again. [ There's not a hint of malice there, and in fact, there's a sneaking suspicion he might even mean the opposite of that — it might've been one of the first times he went out of his way for Aerith, but it'd be far from the last. He even snorts in amusement. ]
Lead the way.
no subject
It's beyond the inn, the way she leads him, past the shadow of the building. They leave it in their wake as it falls tall and ominous along the cobblestones, broken and refitted throughout their long lives. Aerith takes him past the hubbub of the explosion, where a dull sense of urgency is flourishing still. It's odd, she thinks, how easily these things happen. She thinks of the plate falling, all the destruction weaving itself into the land like a parasite infecting a dying body. The fight for survival always dragged on.
It isn't until Aerith leads him beyond the city, into rolling hills and to the base of an old tree that she can speak without the memory of saving Marlene breathing down her neck, pulsing in her blood. ]
I'm starting to think, [ she says, softly, palm flat against the rough bark of the tree. The lingering embers of a fire burns in the center of the city, half-dead but half-alive, too. The tiny particles it spits glow red-orange, floating up into the open sky: A sight she has never beheld before now. ] Things are actually really dire here. Aren't they?
no subject
[ Of course, when they get to their destination, Aerith's question gets a barb in return, dull and ineffective. ] What, you mean besides the fact we're apparently all here to serve a sentence for a crime?
[ There's a beat after he says it, though, where he folds his arms and looks down at the ground — to not look at Aldrip, in the moment. A sleepy little town hiding secrets and prisoners. ]
...You're right, though. I've been feeling it, too. It's under the surface, so it's kind of hard to pinpoint what it is, but...
[ People don't just decide to blow up buildings for no reason. And something about all of this felt decidedly off. Like an edge he didn't expect for a town so small. ]
no subject
[ Looks like they'll have to hit the ground running again, busting their asses to find the truth wedged into some kind of hole they'd have never found on their own. It's the same old story for a pair on the run, in the end. Aerith looks up at him, turning her head gently. The long brown braid of her hair slips over her shoulder as she squats onto the ground, knees hugged to her chest. A beat of silence punctures their conversation for a moment, lets the air out and there's a moment where she wonders if this is really all she's brought him out here for: To talk about the political landscape of a world they're stranded in. ]
The crime part... I don't know. I get this feeling... we're only at the first chapter. [ Slowly, her green gazes drifts down. It roves over to the flames dying down in the distance. ]
Mine said... "Abandonment."
no subject
[ Take jobs. Make connections. Get information. Wash, rinse, repeat. It certainly fit their lifestyle, but he lets Aerith fall uncharacteristically silent as she squats on the hill. It's not like he's never seen her at her more melancholy... but it always takes him a bit off guard. ]
[ But then she opened up with the crime she was accused for. Which isn't something he was prepared to do... and he lets his shoulders sag a bit. A held breath escaping, as he sits down next to — not looking at her, not yet, but looking at towards the town as she looks down at the grass. Close enough they could brush against each other, shoulder to shoulder. But still giving enough of that distance that if she wanted to shy away, she could. ]
Abandonment, huh? Doesn't sound like you at all, if I'm being honest. Don't know if I've ever met a more stubborn person.
[ Despite the candidness, there is a hint of warmth to that tone. It's a compliment, to be sure. How many times had Aerith refused to even entertain the notion of an easier path when she could drag him along kicking and pouting? ]
But... let's say you're right. [ Because she's rarely wrong. ] The first chapter of... what, exactly? And how do our crimes play into that?
[ He feels like he's on the cusp of admitting his own crime, but he still doesn't know how to grapple with it. Abandonment sure didn't fit what he know of Aerith, and he couldn't think of why his crime was what it was. And above alll... he doesn't want this moment to be about him. Aerith's opening her heart, and he wants to be there and let her pour it out. ]