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The voice spoke above him, grasping the back end of the seat across from him. He looked up, the ruffling of his bandages against his ear causing a natural tingle to curve up his spine. His glasses shifted forward lightly, causing him to reach up and press them back with his middle finger. He held out his hand, not bothering with a complimentary smile since it wouldn't be seen anyway. The man sat, setting his glass down in front of him and leaning back a little to get comfortable. He wore a deep gray suit, pressed and tied. Thousands of dollars at the minimum. He had jewelery on his left hand, which was calloused and worn, his other was wrapped in bandages of their own, small specks of blood freckling the clean white that held his skin so delicately. He had obviously been in a fight recently, not Micheal, but the gentleman who had taken the seat. Was he possibly looking for another?
Micheal had entered this bar earlier, seeing it completely out of the way and hidden from the general public eye. It was in the slums, to be sure, but here the people truly lived. Perhaps without the money and astute regularity of the rich and greedy, but their lives spoke volumes in comparison. The place was owned and operated by a woman, Tifa Lockhart, a protector of sorts and obviously well liked. He felt overdressed, of course, and grew strange looks for his utterly covered body, but he had been used to those kinds of looks his entire life. He had chosen a corner without much light, and when he leaned back his head disappeared utterly from view, giving him the opportunity needed to take drinks, or eat a bite of food without showing unneeded skin.
The man opened his mouth to introduce himself.
"Steven Trensif, Officer in charge of media production and Public Relations. Tax collector."
He stared at the guy.
"I know who you are."
The mans slick demeanor faltered slightly, but for less then a second- he recovered and smiled charmingly, a snake behind closed teeth.
"All well and good. Who are you, though? And why have you called me to this dump?"
Micheal pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, opening it slowly and setting it o the table facing him and began to read.
"Embezzling funds, thievery, over taxation, deception, blackmail, torture, protection fees. All these stand under your name." He looked up to the guy, pushing back his glasses again to examine the now-pale face and shocked look crossing the fellows eyes. "You have been a busy man."
The fellow reached across the table, grasping the paper and pulling it back, looking at what was apparently read. The paper, however, was utterly blank- old and outdated, these pieces of fine work were hard to come by. The man lowered the paper, looking at Micheal with slight disdain and confusion, his confidence trying to seep back into his bones. Staulk reached into his coat, pulling out a flower- Brown yet bright, with orange and red bulbs branching off in vibrant color and reflecting light almost magically.
"Have you ever seen a Rosary Pea, Mr. Trensif?" He thumbed it, twirling lightly. "Its seeds contain a particular lectin known as abrin; If chewed and swallowed, Death will follow in mere moments." His voice took on a lighter note. "However, despite its fatal tendencies, it does a lot of good for the environment. For instance, whenever the spider population seems to grow to an unhealthy extent, these flowers know, and produce a kind of sticky paste that, when touched by an arachnids legs, cause death. It also eliminates bugs such as mosquitoes and fruit-flies- things that cause decay and death."
He pointed with his chin, back over at the men who had come in with this officer.
"Go back to your home, spend time with your family- but know this. Over the past two weeks, a small portion of this flowers seeds have been ground into every meal you have eaten, and every drink you have partaken of. You have been short on breath, having stomach and heart pain, and occasionally lose feeling in fingers and toes. Your bladder and intestines will soon hemorrhage, and you will die." The mans face had gone from confidence, to stark terror, to anger. "You can fight me if you wish, but i will not kill you, and i have no antidote to give, so the only thing you will be doing is missing out on the time you could be spending with those you care about."
The mans face slowly calmed, turning to fear.
"Why? Why do this? You don't know me, you don't know the world i live in? Hell, you have been in town for two days- these people aren't even yours!"
Micheal waited calmly.
"I have been around, and seen and heard things about you that confirm what i have just read. Like a mosquito, you have been draining the blood from this city for fourteen years, destroying the lives of those whom have nothing. You and your friends, some flies, other spiders, have grown into an epidemic of individuals destroying the earth and its people. I, like the Rosary, will put everything back into its place, and you, like those whose lives you have destroyed for self profit, will decay and die."
The man stood, staring off into the distance, then curtly turned and left, Micheal following him with his eyes and a calm external attitude. He looked back down at his hands, flexing them lightly, before speaking just loud enough to be heard by anyone who could be serving.
He rolled his eyes a little, at the man's plight. He was in Midgar right now not because he wanted to be, but because he was under assignment - a nifty little contract that had him escorting a man from one place to the next. Escort missions were always boring and tedious, because almost one-hundred percent of the time, the people who were paying for these escorts were no-named people with enough expendable income to feel important. Even now that the job was done, the man had insisted on him walking him all the way back, which Asher had declined because the Contract didn't say that, which meant he hadn't payed for the other trip.
So, the problem now, was that he was a growing boy, and he was friggin' starving! He never got to eat anything but trail rations on these sorts of missions, and so it was up to him to find and pay for a nice warm meal, and hopefully some ice cold milk. Nothing was better, even if it did make him feel all bubbly in the stomach later.
Though, neither of these reasons were why he was rolling his eyes. There was a man, who looked like he'd been stabbed - he was pale, and his breathing was harsh, and he looked like he might burst in to tears. Asher, who, in his infinite kindness ( and epic nosiness ) couldn't help but badger him. It had initially been about the place he was leaving, the 'Seventh Heaven' bar thing, but immediately the guy started ranting about his imminent death and how Asher was just delaying him from being with his family.
"You've been poisoned? That's why you're being so rude? Oh gosh, relax! Asher's here to save the day!" He said, cheerfully, patting around his belt. He pulled out a small bag, and reached in for a Remedy. He didn't even hesitate - he tossed it on the guy, and watched as the stuff suffused in to the man's skin. "That gets rid of all the bad stuff in your body - poisons, blindness, sore throat. It even fixes you when you start to turn to stone and when you turn in to a frog! But, I've never been a frog before."
He could already see the man, who looked massively surprised about the whole situation. His jaw was wide, and he was making little sounds that sounded almost grateful, though there was a distinct amount of shock and misunderstanding. "Don't they have Remedy here in Midglob? I mean, we have'm by the crate back in Balamb - they're not even that expensive." He chuckled, a cheerful, happy thing. "Don't worry about it. Now! I'mma go get lunch! That place looks weird, but --" Before he could even finish the sentence, the guy was shoving a handful of Gil at him.
Asher took his turn to look surprised, but smiled at that. "Thanks!"
He all but bounced in to the place, Spearshot being tugged along by his tail. "Who knew that I'd get free meals just for givin' some guy a Remedy to his poison?" He asked aloud, to no one in particular. Of course, there was a couple of people here, though he could only spot one. His nose worked eagerly, trying to discern the scents of deliciousness in the air. A woman ran this place, he could smell her almost completely.
As he peeked around, he waved absently at the guy in the corner, throwing him a cheerful smile as well. Until, on closer inspection, he saw that the guy... was all wrapped in bandages! Not even a little... a lot!
Wiggling almost too much, the little Genome shifted around tables and chairs, with grace that came along with purpose. He didn't even give him the courtesy to reject his presence, the boy just grinned, wide, and dropped down to a crouch on the other side of the table, fingers clutching the edge of it. This way, only his eyes were visible, along with the top of his head, brown hair neatly obscuring his vision just a little bit.
The red vest he wore today was already starting to get a bit dirty, which was kind of bothersome - but he couldn't do much about it as he hadn't thought to get a room. His shirts were neatly folded in a luggage space in his room on the Airship that was no doubt still in port, which meant until he got back, he'd have to deal with a dirty shirt. Still, the red worked well with the black slacks he'd chosen to wear, which were now bunched carelessly as he remained crouching there, silently evaluating the corner-hugging patron.
Taking a deep breath, he tugged himself up a bit, tail wagging slowly, almost catlike. His weapon moved with it, though there was no menace in the motion. Rather, he looked almost adorable this way, save the point of the blade at the top of his weapon.
Awe in his eyes and in his voice, he finally spoke up.
"Are you a mummy? Like, all dead and stuff under there? With rottin' flesh and no teeth and sparkly jewels for eyes?" He asked, his voice holding a genuine question and curiosity. Though he could be no more than thirteen or fourteen in his body, he appeared probably a bit younger than that in mind, despite the fact that he was a Genome.
What was more, was that his emotions all appeared genuine as well, which was just as awkward for anyone that knew about Genomes as it was for other Genomes. Needless to say, he was a bit weird - and even now, crouched next to this table, he just didn't mind.
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A buzzing was heard in his ear not a moment after his words escaped his lips. He reached up, pushing a small button before gripping a smoke inside his pocket and withdrawing it smoothly. The man in his ear spoke quickly- an old associate of his who opted in to do a little detective work. A master at remaining unseen, the individual pummeled him with the information that the child entering gave a remedy to their target. Micheal didn't lose a step, instead he leaned back into the shadows and pulled a bandage from his mouth, allowing access. His eyes caught the boy, who almost immediately locked onto his body. He spoke quickly into the ear-piece, knowing by that face that the kid would soon come over.
"Did the child cast anything on him?"
"He used a potion of some kind...Remedy, most likely."
"I see- then we have nothing to worry about."
"Yes sir."
The Mic cut out, and his eyes never left the adolescent. The kid had used a remedy, and had therefore removed his poison from the mans body- however, the damage to the organs and functions was still done. The boy had, probably unknowingly, given the man who left another couple of days of suffering- he had extended the days of pain that the fellow would have before his death. It would grow steadily worse, since the poison also had some numbing properties, and now every movement would grow from a thorn in the guys side to blatant pain. In the end, he would die, paralyzed in agony, curled on his bed or floor, unable to move or breathe. He should thank the kid, since this end was far more fitting.
Instead, he waited, watching the child approach, knowing the boy had no clue that he had just done far worse then Micheal himself had done. He thought about telling the kid that, but would instead wait for the man to get further away, so he would be impossible to find again. The kid stared at him, and luckily for Micheal he wrapped the bandage around the cigs butt, so he could still smoke it but his mouth went unseen. The fellow asked what he was like under there, and Micheal smiled under the mask.
"Yeah kid, all of the above."
He glanced around, wondering where exactly this female who worked here was located. He had been waiting for quite a while since he shouted, and now that he had company he was growing rather intolerant. He wanted something to drink and a reason to get this boy away from him. After a few more moments, however, he would offer a hand to the chair across from him. If you can't beat them, have them join you for a meal. He put out his smoke and wrapped his mouth more comfortably before leaning forward. His glasses tilted forward slightly, revealing points of light just before he pushed the glasses back. No color could be seen, and so it would appear to Asher that he was right about the jeweled eyes.
Micheal stared for a few uncomfortable seconds.
"Whats your name, boy?"
His voice was, again, deep and astute, colorful in its accent yet controlled in pitch. Everything about him screamed calm, yet another aura flowed from him in waves- Dangerous. Despite is overly refaced and oftentimes offhanded demeanor, there was something not right about this man wrapped like a pharaoh. Perhaps it was the fact that his skin went unseen, or that when he stared at you it was like he could see into your soul and read everything you had ever done. Perhaps it was this feeling that he knew too much, had seen to much. But the one that even the most innocent personality readers would never find was Pain. He had suffered so much that his spirit felt broken, and even watching this kid burn to death or scream for release wouldn't stir a thing in his heart.
He crossed his legs, waiting for a reply. He wondered about the boy- he was a genome, and so things couldn't be as they always appeared. Of course, Micheal never underestimated anyone, including a boy who had, perhaps knowingly, gave a man false hope, then sent him down a darker road to his own self destruction.
Asher was, by default, a cheerful, happy individual. Add together his outgoing individualism, and he was practically forced to sit in the offered chair, eagerly anticipating his conversation with the mummy-man, who had all sorts of neat-o traits. Though, he didn't really smell like a mummy - or at least what he thought a mummy should smell like, considering how dead they were supposed to be.
The mummy's voice didn't sound creepy, either, which was a bonus - Asher wasn't a fan of things that were creepy, they tended to make his tail twitch, instead of sway gently, as it did now. Pouncing in to the chair, leaning his Spearshot against the table, he tugged his legs up indian style, hands tugging at his feet, as though they might decide to escape. That in itself would be just as creepy as a mummy hand!
Which this guy had two of.
Meep.
He wiggled carefully in his chair, sniffing at the air, half expecting the guy to jump up and go 'BOOGA BOOGA', just to mess with Asher - whom apparently needed to answer that important question, too.
"Ohf! My name's Asher! I'm a SeeD, from Balamb Garden. I'm all the way out here, though, and this place is pretty neat - though there's this weird guy who's always talkin' about starin' at the ground. He said the same thing to me like four times in a row. I think he has amnesia." One thing turned in to three, as such things with Asher tended to do. He really was rather childish, when it came down to it.
Leaning forward, so that he could more or less splay out on the table, he looked up at him. "What's your name, Mummy-man?" He asked, curiously. "Do mummies have names?" Tilting his head to emphasize his curiosity, he sniffed heavily again, trying to get a good taste for his scent.
He was just that way, most of the time.
"Do you know the person who runs this place? She's hiding, or somethin', 'cause I've only seen you. I really want some milk, but I dunno if they've got any here in Midgrab." He added, with a sage nod, as though it were the most sensible and serious thing to talk about. He was genuinely interested, in all of the things he said, though it was evident by his demeanor that he didn't even take a second to consider the ramifications of what he said.
Leaning back again, dragging his fingers along the table, he looked rather thoughtful, glancing back to the door. He half expected that guy to show up again, which was the whole reason he'd come to this place after he left, just in case he might do something else that was stupid, and led to him getting poisoned or turned to stone.
Turning back, he squinted in to the shadows that more or less concealed the man's face, even until he realized the guy was smoking.
He let out a little laugh, that slowly transformed in to giggles that he had to hide behind a hand. "My friend Skeeter - he's a moogle - he smokes big cigars. He says cigarettes are bad for you, but cigars puts hair on your chest. I asked him if that was why he had a furry tummy, and he smacked me." His head drooped at the end of that fond little memory, to which he shook himself a little. He wasn't a fan of getting bopped on the head, or punished like that.
He returned his hands to his feet, where he idly started fumbling with his shoelaces. He'd promised Marie that he would start wearing his ribbons on his tail again when he could tie them on his own - Beis said the only way for him to get better at it was practicing. Of course, until he was good at it, it meant he got to walk around a lot with untied shoes. Which was okay - he was just as good barefoot as he was with shoes on.
Leaning back in the chair, he tugged at the strings, untying them from their knotted vantage.
"Are you from Midglare?" He continued, almost barreling from one subject to the next, which, as it turned out, annoyed a lot of people who didn't know how to be patient. He suspected, idly, that this guy was not someone who couldn't be patient, which was a good thing in Asher's case - he'd been smacked around before because someone wasn't quite so easygoing.
"'Cause I dunno anyone from around here. I'm tryin'ta see if I can't figure out what all this mako junk is about. Everyone says it's all nifty, but I dunno. It seems like it's just glowy electricity, right? But everyone in this little town doesn't like'em and thinks I'm a soldier or somethin'. Which I think is stupid - do I look like a soldier? I dun have a uniform or anythin'." He noted, though his voice held a note of pause - he technically was a soldier. A mercenary. SeeDs even had uniforms, though they only wore those to meetings and ceremonies and stuff.
SeeDs were supposed to be covert. Maybe that was why they didn't have near as much animosity as these other soldiers did, whoever they were. Shrugging, absently, he added. "I wanna visit a 'reactor' to see what that's about, but I dunno where one of those are, either. People get all weird around here when someone starts talking about that. I dunno why."
Propping his elbows on the table, he dropped his chin into his upturned palm, so he could finally start listening to the mummy.
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Tifa was in the kitchen, grabbing a few things from the shelves. She was up into the top shelf looking for more scotch when she heard someone call for her from the main room. Holding several boxes in one arm, and searching around with the other while standing on a counter, Tifa was hardly in a position to go and serve them. She looked over at the direction of the main room and called out to the people.
"Be with you in a minute!" she said to them, though she was doubting they'd here her. Turning back to the shelf, she doubled her efforts in her quest for the scotch. She knew she put another case up here somewhere. Pushing aside a box full of vodka, she found the case she was looking for. Tifa preformed a bit of a juggling act with the boxes in order to get the ones she was holding back on the shelf and the scotch in her hands. She had to pull and hold the scotch with one hand and place it at the bottom of the pile in her other arm, then return the others one at a time. It was lucky she was a lot stronger then she looked, otherwise this would probably be a lot more difficult. Eventually, she succeeded in her mission and was back to the floor with the box of scotch. She put it on the counter and open it up to find a bunch of caps staring up at her. She smiled back at them and pulled one out of it's berth. She glanced at the label of the fifteen year old scotch and then turned and hurried back to the main room.
When she entered the bar, she looked around to see who was there. There were only two people she could see that she had yet to serve, so it was probably one of them. Tifa headed behind the bar and placed the fresh bottle of scotch behind it's nearly empty predecessor. With a small happy sigh, she turned to continue her job and walked over to the people at the table. They were an odd pair. One was wrapped completely in bandages and the other was a kid with a tail. Tifa was really getting some strange people in here lately. Well, she wasn't complaining. People were free to look how they wanted, so long as they didn't cause any trouble. They behaved, then they could stay, that was her rule. She walked up to the table and gave them both a friendly smile.
"Sorry about the wait, guys." she told them, "So what can I get you two today?" she continued to smile her pretty and welcoming smile to them, in her attempt to make them feel at home. That's how she liked things here, homely and friendly. She wanted people to be able to come in here and relax, forget their troubles, and enjoy themselves. Tifa did whatever she could to make that happen for her customers. Just as she would for these two. She patiently waited for them to give their orders.
Micheal listened patiently, the boy before him proving through just a few moments of silence and speech that he was far more innocent then he had first assumed. He crossed his legs, interlocking his fingers over his knee as he did so. Perhaps innocence was the wrong word- naive was far more appropriate. He said nothing until Asher finally reached the end of his monologue. It was no small relief- this kid could seemingly speak forever, and obviously had little time or patience for the answers he asked for, for all of them were far harder to explain then could possibly be imagined. Still, it intrigued him that a child could carry a weapon and walk like one who knew combat yet appear to be barely old enough to have seen fifteen winters. Then again, he knew all too well that appearances could be decieving.
His eyes caught on the woman who suddenly came from the back room, and his stroke of luck was all too perfect. He could tell, almost immediately, that this was the Tifa he was looking for. See, as mentioned earlier, Micheal had heard that a Tifa Lockhart owned this bar, and this was the second Tifa he had come across in the past few days. Not on accident- he was looking for someone, a Tifa whose last name he did not know. However, he had a description to paste with the name, and upon laying his gaze on her he knew she was the one. He smiled, though none before him would see it. Uncrossing his legs, he leaned out of the darkness, a flash crosing his glasses. He pushed his cup forward a little, giving her the indication that he was ready for that drink.
"Scotch, if you please."
He would wait for her to finish pouring him something, and for Asher to either accept or reject a drink before he would speak to her again, clearing his throat a little should she turn to go.
"Excuse me, Ms.Lockhart-" He would gesture to another chair that had, apparently of its own accord, moved from the table behind Asher and joined their table next to the genome. "-but i would speak with you, if you have a moment." He said this, obviously pointing to the fact that the place was nearly empty and she likely would have the time. If, however, she turned him down and moved to walk away, he would speak again. "I have something to tell you- something important regarding Cloud Strife." She would, if she recognized the name, likely turn back and approach him, or she would totally not know him and continue on, in which case Micheal will know he made a mistake in assuming she was the one.
If, however, she took the seat from the beginning, he would ask a simple question of her, not oblivious to the fact that Asher was sitting right there, but not planning on revealing anything the individual could report to anyone else.
"Might you know a Strife? Cloud Strife? He claimed to have a Tifa as a friend, and you fit the description."
He would hold his glass calmly, moving it in a small circle, watching her face with interest and a smile, invisible beneath the bandages.
For the most part, Asher was fine with his questions apparently falling on deaf - and annoyed - ears. Most of the time, while he did want an answer, it was the same kind of want as with candy or toys. He may very well want them, but he very rarely expected them. Even on days when he probably should be expecting them. Biting his lip, though, he all but cheered when the woman finally made her appearance, tail swaying gently in his excitement.
He was now officially teetering on the edge of his seat, as his head practically ping-ponged between the two, turning so that he never had to really focus on what either of them was doing. For the most part, the mummy man was a lot more interesting than her. But she was at least pretty, though far too excited about accomplishing her game of 'fetch the bottle'.
He was tempted to gnaw on something while he waited - but he knew better than to chew on his fingernails, because everyone told him it was a dirty habit. But being polite took a toll on him, and not shouting or bouncing or at least wiggling wasn't helping.
Finally, she turned to them and he had to cling to the chair to keep from bouncing at her.
"I would like a really really really big glass of milk! And pie! Not a glass of pie. Just a regular piece of pie. BUT A PIE!" He said this last bit with all the emphasis he could muster while remaining seated.
Then, though, his new undead friend was talking to her about clouds.
Tilting his head a little bit, he glanced between the two of them again. Did they know each other? Well, he must know her, what with using a last name - unless he was wrong, then Asher would just laugh a lot because he made mistakes like that often. Leaning in the chair, so that it was now on just two legs, he listened eagerly.
"I know a cloud! It looked like a rabbit. I named it Fluffhead, but then it went away. It was a sad, sad day." He nodded, sagely, as he continued to lean, nothing but the two legs keeping him aloft. His body wasn't even slightly rigid, but he still wasn't actually doing anything that remotely looked like balancing - his own center of balance being quite amazing. "Do you have pie?" He asked that last bit with just a bit of hesitation, realizing he hadn't confirmed or denied the existence of such a tasty treat. "Frooooot pie. Not nut pie. Those are gross."
With the last bit of his very serious, albeit completely pointless dialogue out of the way, he could return to wiggling in the chair.
After a second's hesitation, he leaned a little bit to the right, so that he was only on one leg, now.
Yes, this is why the Garden had chairs that attached to the desks.
The bandaged man was quick with his response, requesting some of the newly brought out scotch. Perhaps he had seen Tifa bring it out and wanted to be the first into the bottle, or perhaps it was simply coincidence that he wanted some right after Tifa had exited the kitchen in the back with the new bottle. Tifa didn't know, but it didn't matter anyway. She gave him a nod and a smile, then looked over at the boy sitting with him. This one was much more in contrast. He seemed quite hyper and restless. Constantly on the move, never seeming to slow down. She didn't usually get younger people in at this time. They usually only showed up during the day for lunch. People seemed to enjoy her cooking, so this wasn't uncommon. Someone of a young age coming in here during the 'happy hours', it was rare though.
The boy didn't try to order an alcoholic drink or anything though, and there was no rule against him being here at this time, so Tifa had no problem with serving him. Besides, he was a cute one. She smiled and laughed quietly at his antics with the pie. She did a quick mental scan of her fridge's inventory. She should have some pie in there. She usually kept some desserts ready in there in case people wanted something sweet after their food. Most people did. It wasn't the best pie in Midgar, she'd wager, but it was alright for the price. You didn't really find top quality products down in the slums, so 'alright' was usually what you had to settle for.
Before Tifa could respond or go off to get them their orders, however, the bandaged man spoke up again. She turned to him with wonderment in how the man knew her last name, though it was possible that he had over heard it somewhere around in sector seven. Seventh heaven wasn't exactly an unknown location down here in the slums. It didn't stop it from being a little weird though, it was always awkward when someone knew your name and you didn't know theirs. It was probably something famous people had to deal with, but Tifa was hardly famous. She listened as he continued and that's when he said something that pushed the whole issue of him knowing about her name, and anything else, from her mind.
He had mentioned Cloud.
The world vanished. The image of a spiky headed blonde that was about thirteen years of age came to her mind. It was of Cloud, the last time she had seen him so many years ago. She thought about him often, so you would think she could control her emotions on the subject a little better. That wasn't the case though. Hearing someone else say his name was different. When she thought about him herself, the thoughts were hers and hers alone. After leaving Nibelheim, the world became one without evidence of him and it had sometimes felt to Tifa like she may have imagined him the whole time. Now, when hearing someone else speak his name when she hadn't said it herself yet, it brought him back into reality and he was no longer a figment of her imagination. It meant she hadn't made up the whole thing, that he really was real after all.
Tifa remembered the last time she saw him. When he had told her he was going to leave Nibelheim to join SOLDIER. It had hurt. More then she would have believed possible at the time. the two of them had been neighbors, but they hadn't exactly been close. Cloud had always been a bit of a mystery to her. But when he said he was leaving, Tifa had known that she would miss him. She had made him promise to come and save her if she was ever in trouble, hoping that one day he would return and she could see him again. She didn't want that to be the last time. Plus, he was so brave and confident when he was talking to her. Brave like he had been when he had followed her out to mount Nibel when all her friends had left her alone. It had been... impressive.
Suddenly, a small voice had cut in to Tifa's time warp and she turned to find the boy who ordered the pie talking about actual clouds. She had forgotten her customers for a moment and she shook her head a bit, trying to get her thoughts together. The boy asked again about the pie, and Tifa attempted to think straight again and do her job despite the burning tsunami of curiosity that crashed through her heart.
"Uh... I think I have some apple pie. I'll go get it. One sec." her usual friendly demeanor had been washed away and she now seemed like she was only half there. She went into the back kitchen and opened the large fridge stored there, looking for the pie. Her mind swirled as she wondered how the bandaged man could know Cloud. If Cloud was in SOLDIER, then that meant there was a large possibility that the bandaged man worked for Shinra. The only reasons she could think of that Shinra would want to talk to her about were all bad ones. But they also had nothing to do with Cloud, so why would he bring him up? Was it just to get her off guard? Tifa couldn't think of a satisfactory answer and was then startled when she heard a beep. Looking around, she noticed it was her food heater. Apparently she had found the pie and started heating it without noticing at all. Bandage man really had thrown her off her game.
Tifa grabbed the pie and headed back out to the bar with a new resolve to keep her wits about her. She placed it on the bar and went to the smaller fridge of the main room, where the milk was, grabbing a large glass as she went. Then she took that, the pie, an empty glass, and the fresh bottle of scotch, which she grabbed off the shelf from it's new resting place, and headed back to the table.
"Sorry about that." she told them, apologizing for the wait and her emotional earthquake that made her lose her etiquette for a moment. She gave the boy his pie and milk, then filled up the empty glass with scotch, placing the bottle on the table when she was finished. She didn't want to have to get up again if the man wanted more. She took a seat at the table, then looked the man in the goggles.
"Okay. You've got my attention, which I'm sure you were aiming for. What do you know about Cloud? Do you know where he is?" she asked him. She had been looking for Cloud for years now. Was she finally about to find him?
A light when off in his head, causing him to smile only slightly, which neither of course would know about. He could tell, simply from the sudden influx of epinephrine into her body, causing the widening of pupils and reduction of blood in her face that he'd roped her in. Her bodies reaction was triggered by the rigidity of her frame and the release of acetylcholine from pre-ganglionic sympathetic nerves- in layamans terms, the word had caused her body to go into shock- an acute stress reaction that meant the word had a deep cord in her heart and mind. He simply waited, apparently blank faced though actually studying her crisply. Was the boy a love of hers? Perhaps, perhaps not. Still, he knew she meant quite a bit to Cloud, and that was enough for him to assume the feeling was mutual or had once been mutual, and the suddeness of her response told him his hypothesis was correct.
He gave a small nod as she said she would return, obviously not there in thought but merely going through the motions. He looked back to the boy, his aura telling him to not ask questions, though it was probable that wouldn't do a thing. Still, he wouldn't speak until she returned, pouring him a glass of scotch and setting the pie down in front of the youngling. That was good- hopefully the food would keep the child distracted enough to let the people before him speak about matters obviously not concerning him.
"I know a bit of one, and alot of the other, actually. I know a bit about Cloud, quite a bit actually, though not nearly enough to truly depict his individual personality. I do, however, know alot about where he has been, where he is now, and where he will be."
He would let that sink in a moment before taking a sip from his glass, moving a bandage only slightly so that, unless they actually leaned forward and tried to see, they would catch only darkness. He set it back down, letting out a little sigh. He didn't want to tarry too long- he had much to do, for he would be leaving the next day for a forgotten continent in search of things that did not wish to be found. Still, it was best not to rush things, as he could tell she was put off by his forward demeanor and candor. He continued.
"If you would please, i would love to take a walk with you, in which i will lead you to a location that will take you directly to him. Tonight."
Now, this was likely to shock her further, as she probably wasn't particularly prepared mentally to meet with the male so soon. However, there were things they needed to discuss, and preferably alone. Not that it was anything secret, however he personal business was her personal business. He took another drink.
He let out a contented little squeal at the placement of the pie, but something had shifted slightly in his demeanor. The man had shocked her - and not in a good way. She'd seemed temporarily stunned by his words, and it was the SeeD in him that allowed him to notice this. He was incredibly naive, certainly - but he wasn't a SeeD because he was a fool. Flighty, difficult to understand most of the time, and of course, childish... but not foolish.
So, while he ate - and boy, did he eat - getting crumbles and bits of apple along the plate, his vest, the table, his hands, either corner, and somehow on an earlobe, he listened. His eyes flicked between the two. The mummy was playing at something that he wasn't quite sure he was happy at being witness to.
And what was worse, he couldn't tell if she was being made particularly happy.
"Pie is good! Thaank you! It's extra delicious - so much better'n the pie they have at the garden." He was intentionally punctuating their conversation, though he could tell that his existence was suddenly no longer part of the man's plan. But he could tell that it was his voice that had brought her out of the initial reverie that Bandages had inflicted on her, and hopefully, if he kept it up, he could keep her grounded enough to not be all zombielike.
All three legs thudded down on the floor just shy of simultaneously, making certain that he wouldn't be forgotten.
"Y'can't walk, y'er a Mummy! Mummies just draaag and draaag." He intoned, with a little sage nod. He hated this feeling, that was suddenly very much a part of him. He knew he'd stumbled in on something that he had no part of, but now was part of, whether either of the other two liked it.
Considering how goofy he was, he was actually pretty good at solving puzzles, which was how he was approaching this. She hadn't seen this Cloud guy in a long time. The Mummy man was now tempting her with it. The problem was, the way he was doing it. Even Asher could smell the subtle hints of a trap of some sort - whether it was actually there or not would remain to be seen.
"Can'tcha just tell her where her cloud is? I mean, it's kinna creepy, don'tya think? All askin' to take a walk when she doesn't really know ya? It's like you've got a cruuu~ush on her!" He giggled at that, as he finished consuming his pie. He was having a hard time though, balancing what should be done with what he could do.
Asher was not the boy you wanted to play voice of reason, as almost everything about him was, unreasonable. He was first and foremost a child... though at his core, he was a SeeD. No one ever gave him that much credit because he was always silly - and that was fine! It was hard for someone to mix cute and at least somewhat mindful.
You couldn't be an effective marksman and not be aware of your surroundings. It just didn't work.
Leaning forward, he polished off the glass of milk, as though it were the last thing he were ever going to partake of! It left him with a milk-moustache that ran the entire length of his upper lip. Of course, he hadn't asked for extra napkins, which meant the one on the table would have to do.
He took it up, and wiped at his mouth... and face... and hands.
He even went so far as to clean up the table where he'd left a multitude of crumbs, dumping them back on the plate. You learned quick at the Garden - you clean up after yourself or you got cold food for WEEKS. At this point, it was just habit.
"More milk, please!" He chimed, doing a little wiggle-dance in his chair. His eyes flicked between Tifa and Band-aid, wondering just how much attention he was really going to have to give.
He was interested, at this point, and he wasn't due back to Balamb for at least a day or two. He had time, and interest!
[/blockquote][/blockquote] ( Word Count: 748 Thread Word Count: 3268 )
Ugh, he was being cryptic. Tifa didn't want to hear cryptic right now, she wanted answers. Though it seemed she wasn't going to get them so easily. He was playing with her. She wondered if he was taking some sick pleasure out of her torment on the subject. So long she had been searching for Cloud, and now here was this man with what she wanted and he was dangling it in front of her, making sure to keep it just out of her reach. It bothered her, she didn't like being played. Then he dropped another bomb. He could bring her to him tonight? tonight!? It seemed impossible that this man could just show up and lead her to the the thing she had spent years looking for. It was all too easy. So easy it didn't seem right. 'Too good to be true', as it were. But what if it was true? Could she really see him so soon...?
Tifa was mentally going over the prospects of seeing Cloud, when the pie-boy spoke up. She had almost forgotten he was there, so involved she was thinking about Cloud.
"Thanks. I'm glad you like it." she said to him, giving him a sweet smile in response. The boy went on, citing several good points that brought Tifa's mind to where she should have it. On what the bandage-man was planning. She could take care of herself just fine, but that didn't mean anything. There were so many different scenarios that could play themselves out and few were good. The chances that this man had come here to simply bring her to Cloud was unlikely. If that was the case, he would have just told Cloud were she was and let him come to her.
"Alright." Tifa replied to the boy's order. Then she turned back to the bandage man. "Back in a second." she said then hurried off to the kitchen. She wanted a moment to get her thoughts straight and not get caught up on the prospect of meeting Cloud. It was entirely possible he didn't even know Cloud, or that he had only met him once in passing. Would Cloud have talked about her to some random stranger like that? She felt a bit uplifted at the thought that Cloud thought about her so much he'd talk about her to random people, but quickly stifled the idea. She didn't know if it was true and she couldn't let herself get carried off by it. She had to focus her attention on what exactly the bandaged man wanted with her.
She returned to the main room with the carton of milk, once again attempting to steady herself and not let her emotions carry her away. She needed some real answers from the bandaged man. He couldn't leave her in the dark. He was being way to secretive for her liking. She filled the boy's glass with more milk and then placed the carton down on the table, before she retook her seat. She gave him a smile, then turned back to the bandaged man. Her face was serious again as she stared at the blank spot his face should have been in. at least he had something akin to eyes to look at, but she couldn't read facial expressions this way. Her teacher, Zangan, had trained her to keep her face as controlled as possible during combat situations. He had said 'When you hide your face, you hide everything', meaning that a persons face could give them away. When one hid their face, they did so for a reason.
"Sorry about that." she said, apologizing for the interruption. "Besides that, the young man here is right. For whatever reason you want me to go with you, you'll understand if I'm wary about the whole thing." she let out a sigh as she paused. "The problem is that you haven't given me any reason to trust you, and showing up late at night and asking me to go off on a walk with you is a little suspicious. So, if you please, I would much rather we stayed here. This place is as good as any." she told him.
He listened without response to the small, pie eating boy, turning his gaze back to the girl and letting her take it as she would. She had left, obviously to gather herself and while she did she leaned forward and spoke to the child.
"If i knew your deepest secrets, and held a key to unlocking something you truly wanted or loved, would you want me to state everything in front of a stranger? That is my reasoning- which i should not have to tell a ten year old kid."
He leaned back as she re-approached, his gaze expectant and waiting. She poured more melt, her face proud yet stoic, showing little to no emotion, though her eyes caught with intelligence and resolve. He took a deep, steadying breath, watching her try to collect her thoughts before speaking. Just the tone of her voice told him "no", before she even said anything. He waited politely for her to finish before he took his glass.
"I could tell you that i mean no harm, but words are simply words- easily broken, and therefore hard to trust."
He took a little sip before standing and putting his mouth close to her ear, his bandages brushing her cheek. She smelled divine, a rush of adrenaline and a pang of anger returning to his chest as a memory, a vision of blood and a woman screaming flashed before his eyes. He ignore it all, speaking softly.
"Here is my proof- Years ago, he made a promise to you, one that im sure you think of often- a promise to always protect you."
He leaned away, intending for this deep, dark piece of information to shock her, to startle her mind. He would down his glass, set it on the table, and push his chair in, talking more for the boys interest then hers.
"Forgive me- its apparent i wasted my time. The answer to us remaining here is no. I will take my leave, though with some regret. I hope you both live the fullest of lives."
And, unless stopped, he would turn and leave, checking his watch as he did so with a hint of dissatisfaction. He set aside an hour or so for this, but he still had a little time left.
It was quite the thing, to speak without threat, and still remain threatening. Perhaps it was a trait of the undead - he spoke without hesitation, or without thought as to what his words might earn him, especially leaning so close to the young genome. He was obviously not thrilled, but that much didn't matter, he tilted his head a little bit.
"If you did - why would you dangle that key in front of me, expecting me to just follow you blindly? Yer not being sensitive, yer taunting. There's a difference." He replied, easily. Was he betraying a little something about himself? The SeeD training that he'd allowed to take up so much of his active, conscious life? No... not possible.
Asher did allow himself to give pause, though - after all... what if someone told him to follow them in to the night with promise of fixing his memories? He'd probably be just as frustrated and allured as Tifa - and he'd be thankful for anyone that could keep him grounded at least long enough to think about it.
He all but cheered at the milk's arrival, though he could tell she approached with a distinct calm and collection that she hadn't had before she had headed back there - which had served exactly the purpose he'd intended. AND, he got milk, so the rewards were twofold. He all but guzzled the milk, as the two resumed their exchange, Tifa becoming a much stronger individual as moments passed. Asher was glad, at least, that she had come to her senses.
When band-aid finally put his now-empty glass down, and bade his farewell, Asher felt a little bit of tension pass, even if the guy was still there. Asher's tail moved gently, as Asher watched him in the dimmed reflection of his Spearshot's blade. He might have simply been a blob, but Asher could easily detect motion that way.
Finishing his milk, he put the glass down as well, gently, uncertain as to what the man had said to Tifa. His nose might very well be much better than humans, but his ears were not. Whatever he said might actually influence her reaction. He couldn't tell, yet - he was not as good at reading in to people as he'd like to be.
Leaning back in his chair a bit, he let out an easy breath, letting his other hand rise up to brush at his milk mustache. Again.
[/blockquote][/blockquote] ( Word Count: 421 Thread Word Count: 3689 Notes: No worries, I have them too sometimes. Like now. @_@ )
He was right. Those words wouldn't mean anything. He was hiding something. Intentionally. There was a catch to his proposition, something he'd want from her in return for this act of generosity. How could he really expect her to trust so much on so little? Tifa was a pretty trusting person, but this was asking a bit much. Maybe she had simply lived in this city for too long, but there was just something shady about Bandage-man that made her feel uneasy. The fact that he wasn't being forward with what involvement he had in Tifa and Cloud's business put her on edge. He was very... ominous and a little creepy.
Then he leaned forward and gave her another little piece of information. Once again she felt her shock, but she managed to keep a hold of herself through it this time. She had already had a bit of belief that he was telling the truth about knowing Cloud. Tifa herself never talked about him, so he it really seemed the only way he could have know they knew each other at all. They hadn't talked in years, only one of the two of them could tell someone that the other might remember them. Though, Tifa had actually wondered if Cloud had remembered her at all. He had never tried contacting her, or ever even wrote a letter to her. Though she was wondering what he was thinking, telling this man about something really personal, like their promise. It wasn't really a 'big secret' or anything, but it didn't feel right that someone else was in on something that was just for the two of them.
The Bandaged-man got up and began heading out. Tifa was feeling anxious. She hated this, why did the first chance for her to see Cloud again in so long have to come with so many complications. And would the Bandaged-man tell Cloud she didn't want to go see him? That wasn't the truth, but that might be what he'd say... If he even told Cloud about any of this. Tifa was feeling compelled to explain herself and why she couldn't follow him.
"Wait a sec... " she said, standing up to look at the Bandaged-man, determination in her eyes. "I can't go with you to him, but it's more then just the trust issue. I can't just leave here like that. There are people who are counting on me to hep them. They need me here and it wouldn't be fair to them to go running off in the middle of the night for who knows how long. I have responsibilities here that I can't abandon for such selfish reasons...."
Her eyes fell to the table. "But, before you go, I would like to say thank you. I... didn't even know he was still alive. I'd heard nothing at all from or about him and I was worried he might be dead. But now I know he isn't. He's still out there and I can still hope to see him again someday. Not today maybe, but someday." she told him. She would continue to hold onto that hope, the hope she would finally see Cloud again one day. The fact that she knew he was now alive was a huge weight off of her mind. She felt suddenly light, almost weightless, now that she knew that he was alive. And that he remembered her. It wasn't the same as seeing him again, but knowing he was also thinking about her was probably the next best thing.
Word Count: 616
Total Count: 3061
OOC: lol, seriously, your posts are fine! There's no great need for long posts in a casual thread like this one, so don't stress yourselves over it.
~Thread finished~
Last Edit: Feb 20, 2010 22:17:01 GMT by Tifa Lockhart
