insusurro | ARRIVAL.

[ Lookin' fancy, Midgar.

Zack is standing at the edge of the cliff. He's not sure how; every nerve in his body is screaming for him to let those buckling knees of his succumb to what feels like nine times the gravity he's used to. Every breath he takes is labored, wheezing. His hands don't look like his hands anymore, ragged and branded to the bone with gunshot contrails. But he can't bring himself to look away.

There were things in the air. Back home, they called them wisps, he thinks. His grandpa once told him that they'd steal him away if he didn't go to bed on time. Now Zack's wondering if that applies to not dying on time too, because he's sure...

There's motion behind him. No time to think. Those bodies laid out on the ground aren't the ones that peppered the blood-soaked sands before the explosion. His heart softens when he sees them, grounded and vulnerable. Just like someone that he's hoping made it too.

At the first soft noise, he takes a step forward. He extends a hand, flashes that Crest-white sun-bright Zack Fair brand grin. ]

Eeeeeeasy now. I got ya. You're gonna be all right.

[Andrea awakens from the strangest dream he's had in white a while only to realize he can't recall the details of it as soon as consciousness has him. He reaches over to grab another of his many pillows and instead gets a handful of dirt and sand.

As startling as it is to wake up somewhere he didn't go to sleep, it wouldn't be the most unusual thing that had happened to him. At least he recognizes where he is. Sort of. Midgar is within walking distance, but it looks very different than he remembers it. Just in case this has something to do with Shinra, he opts for the alternate choice and turns his back to the city he's familiar with to head for Kalm.]

A. Bar
[The name is an overly appropriate descriptor for the demeanor of the town. Nothing much seems to be going on. Aside from a few shops he has little interest in, there's also a bar. It's no Honeybee Inn, but it would do until he could figure out the details of the previous night.

He sits quietly in a corner attempting to make phonecalls to Wall Market that aren't going through, and eventually gives up to have a drink. If there's anyone else who seems even remotely interesting he'll spend the extra gil to buy them a drink as well.]

Are you a local?

B. Wildcard
(Choose your own adventure.)

[This wasn't the first time he had woken up having no idea where he was. It probably wouldn't be the last. His first realization was that he was laying on a hard surface- it felt like there was a rock lodged against his side that was rather uncomfortable. That was something new.

Eventually, he started to open his eyes, looking up at the clear sky above. Another observation- it wasn't raining anymore which was an added bonus since he didn't want to be soaking wet in this situation. He couldn't continue laying there on the ground indefinitely though, pulling himself to his feet with a grimace. He was sure he looked disheveled and dirty but there was nothing that he could do about it right now. He had to find his Turks and figure out what was going on.

The last few moments before he had found himself waking up on the ground were starting to catch up to him and he looked at his hands, drawing up the sleeve of his right arm. No black marks- it hadn't just been a dream. It was gone. He wasn't going to dwell on that though, he had to figure out what was happening.

He noticed bodies laying around him-no one he immediately recognized. Midgar was in the distance, he frowned when he saw Sister Ray there. It would take some time to get there on foot, especially since he had spent some time in that damn wheelchair, but he really didn't have much of a choice as he started walking.]

[ silver hair really never means anything good. the choice that had been before him had been a simple enough one - kill restrictor, preform an snd, get the hell out of deepground. it was a gamble, the likelihood of succumbing to the virus was much higher than actually finding a means of saving himself, but ah.

death is always with you in deepground. in some ways dying would be a victory in itself, proof that he'd finally freed himself from out from under that tyrant's thumb.

except he knows this isn't deepground the moment consciousness returns to him. it smells wild and untamed, the bloodsoaked ground familiar as it is incomprehensible. he was just walking on cold linoleum. he's outside.

and he's alone.

he springs to his feet, heaven and earth pulled from their sheaths in one smooth motion as he hits the ground.

fight the young man pointing a sword at your throat. he seems to really want you to, there's a bright glint in his eyes that says he's entirely too wound up to be talked down.

or bargain to be a guide. he'll demand it of you if you don't immediately lift a weapon to strike back. ]

Edited 2020-05-20 15:32 (UTC)

['So, how does it feel? To be home after all this time? I have no hometown. I wouldn't know.'

'Uh... what about family?'

That's the last thing Sephiroth hears before darkness swells, dragging him under. It's a blissful sort of silence for a while... a dreamless sleep. It's not until the gentle tip, tap of rain splashing against his face that he finds some awareness. But once he does, his eyes are open in a flash, staring up at a gaping grey sky. He sits up instantly, rigid and alert, cataloging everything in the vicinity.

No quaint little buildings. No windmill. No mountains.

The rain is starting to ebb away.

Around him, the ground is scattered with debris and blood-- an unpleasant and concerning sight, to say the least. That compares little to the moment his eyes lift over the cliffside, and they're met with the shock of green-- tangling and embracing what is undoubtedly Midgar. He's on his feet now, Masamune wound tightly in his grasp... and behind him, the sight of the ocean and Sister Ray comes as an even more astounding surprise. Alarm... is a good word for it. This isn't Nibelheim, and it certainly isn't anything else it should be either.

--What happened?

A question Sephiroth can't answer. He chooses to focus on the things he can control instead, starting with searching the cliffs for Zack and the two infantrymen. It stands to reason that if he's here, then they might be, too. They were all together before this happened-- but he's not necessarily hoping for their presence. Whatever this is, Sephiroth suspects he doesn't want anyone else getting dragged into it.

Should his search come up empty, he resolves to investigate the sprawling vision of greenery Midgar seems to have become.

(Meet with Sephiroth) on the cliffs in his search for life, (join his journey) to Midgar, or (choose your own scenario).]

( a )

[ The last image in his head is a sword in his face. The Buster sword—Zack's sword—telling him it's time to lay down and die. His last cohesive thought is about Rude, but he can't remember what about Rude, specifically. Something vague, miserable and pathetic. Something like hope he gets out or maybe hope we're buried together under the same rubble or maybe I'm sorry, partner or maybe just it wasn't supposed to be like this. Then he loses consciousness.

When he wakes up, he's laying flat on his back the same way he was when the light faded from his eyes, staring at the big, blue sky. It hasn't been that long since he last saw it—he flies all the time, takes trips out of Midgar, and lives up above the plate. The sky is easy to come by. But it's been a long time since he ever saw it like this. So big, so blue, so beautiful. The sun so bright, it hurts his eyes. He squints, lashes fluttering, and grimaces. Closes them again. He assumes this is what the view from the remains of Sector 7 looks like. His mind doesn't exactly adopt logic right away, can't quite account for why he isn't surrounded by or covered in rubble, ash and dust and fire. It's just the only thought that makes sense as he lays there, bloodied and battered and hurting enough that it'd follow that he'd be laying in the ruins of the worst thing he's ever done: this is what the sky looks like after all the chaos has settled.

He doesn't really try to get up. He doesn't assume that he can. And he'd be at least partially right—he's too injured to do it on his own. He's riddled with injuries, from bullets and swords and fists of fury. Covered in burns, his uniform positively destroyed, the ends of his hair singed. Broken ribs, a fractured wrist, something up with his leg. And a blow to the head that's bleeding worse than the severity that it actually is (head injuries just kinda do that, y'know), forming a puddle in the sand to match the halo of his hair. For no particular reason, he stretches a hand out toward the sky as if to touch it, see what it feels like on his fingertips. Then he drops his arm back down with a resigned sort of sigh. Dying in the sunshine... he sure doesn't deserve that. ]

( b )

[ Once he's up and capable, Reno heads for... well, Junon. For Midgar, naturally, but imagine his surprise at coming to find a familiar sight in an unfamiliar place. The military city never looked so alive and well and... unwelcome. This isn't what he planned on seeing when he got back to town, and he's—he's a little fucked up about it. Sector 7 is gone, and in its place, his hometown?

This is a whole bunch of shit.

But, well, what else is there to do but go with it? He knows the streets intimately well, both from his childhood and from all the many, many, many trips he's taken back there since. Everything mostly lines up with what he recalls, but some of it is different. The Sister Ray is familiar, too. It'd be tempting to go to one of his favorite haunts and have a drink, but that's not what Reno opts for. He goes straight to the street vendors, lined up on one of the main thoroughfares, selling food and souvenirs and other interesting goods. One of them, an old staple, has very flashy things: toy dragons that breathe fire, sparklers that sparkle forever, little boxes that release hologram fireworks when you open them. ]

D'you have—yesss. Lemme get one of those.

[ Reno pays for what he wants and takes a step away to mess with it right there on the sidewalk—a little steel bird that flies around when you release it from your palm, squawking robotically. It lands on his shoulder after it's done a few swoops and circles and tries to pluck out bits of his hair like it's a real, living thing that needs to build a nest. Reno laughs a little and strokes its metal beak, lets it steal a few long, red strands, and watches as it takes off for the top of a lamp post to begin construction. ]

[She flinches, when rain spatters her cheek. Yes, that's right, it had started raining. She remembers that clearly. But she'd been up and moving. When had she fallen asleep?

She blinks her eyes open, swiping the raindrops from her face, as she pushes herself up, into a sitting position. Yes, she recognizes the rocky place around her. It's where she's supposed to be, just..not on the ground.]

Cloud?

[Hardly a shocking first thing out of her mouth, as she looks around. It's a small comfort to know she's not alone. It's a bit more concerning, actually. What happened?

She scoots across the dirt to the person nearest to her, gently touching them on the shoulder.]

Hey, are you okay?

Edited 2020-05-21 00:10 (UTC)

[This was just fucking fantastic.

Thankfully he seemed to be one of the first to wake up, muttering under his breath as he pulled himself to his feet to look around. There seemed to be a lot of people laying on the ground around him- some he recognized, some he didn't want to recognize, some he didn't want to recognize him, and complete strangers. Being dead worked for him.

He fished out a crumpled cigarette from his pocket as he made his way silently through the bodies, weighing his options as he stood out on the cliff. Midgar...Kalm...neither were fantastic options. He really hadn't been to Midgar since Meteorfall and he didn't exactly miss it there.

He lit his cigarette, ignoring the rain soaking through his clothes.]

Fuck this.

[Later, he's sitting in a bar in Edge, listening to people talk around him about their boring lives, boring children....and Shinra. Thankfully no one really seemed to pay attention to him as he ordered another glass of whatever swill they called whiskey these days, thinking about where to go from here.]

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗔𝘁𝘁𝗮𝗰𝗸

[ Tseng’s breath catches in his throat, his chest tightens, and tension coils down his spine and weighs on his thighs. He’s doubled over with darkness to his vision and his mind feels a mile high from the ground. It’s enough to make his knees weak and the weight on his thighs pushes him down to the ground. Tseng collapses, both hands slip from his thighs to the dirt and the breath finally breaks free in a forceful gasp from his lips. He begins coughing and his fingers tighten on the loose soil as he endeavors to catch his breath. Despite being present in this physical world his spirit, his mind, his focus lingers in the shadow of the fantasy world. The tight grip around his neck remains a threat as he fights off the phantom horror trying to bridge the gap from his imagination to reality.

Around him the world appears calm, the sun softly basks both roads ahead of him, one toward Kalm the other toward Midgar. There’s a gentle breeze that barely titillates the Turk, next to his own body’s shaking, and the air is crisp, cool, and gentle. Despite Tseng’s difficulty taking the oxygen in.

It was as if he just submerged from a deep dive into a dark pool. The density of the dark water gripped onto him like tentacles and sucked at his flesh, pulling on him just as desperately as he was now pulling in breaths.

Moments feel much longer while flashes of his life pass through him. His eyes focus on the remnants of faces, places, and ultimately regrets. What he should have done, what he could have done and these dark thoughts are what kept the dark entity’s clutch around him. Guilt toils across his body force its weight upon him and ascend toward his mind. Without knowing why, or how, Tseng knows he must be present yet the dark abyss and its harbingers of guilt are cleaver antagonists. His culpability in the loss of heroes reminds him there is no one left that can save him. His pact with the devils of Gaia argues against his own existence in this physical realm. It seems he is due to pay his debt. ]

No.. .. not yet.

[ His voice struggles through and it gives him focus and a start to ward off the darkness. He fights by denying destiny’s due. He fights by pushing aside the faces, places, and heroes lost. He clutches the earth beneath him and his eyes focus on the marks made on the ground by his own clawing fingers. It reminds him he still has a grip on this world. The tightness on him lifts and he takes in a filling gasp. The attack on him was lifted, just as suddenly as it had come. He regains composure after a moment of steadied meditation and is able to see clearly now around him. ]

𝐊𝐚𝐥𝐦

[ Tseng entered the longest standing hotel in Kalm. The last year or so has brought many to pilgrimage from Midgar to Kalm. Survivors of the disarrangement of the metropolis, the economy, the threat hovering so close to Gaia’s surface all found their way out of Midgar and seeking refuge in other places. Kalm, being the closest, was a popular choice for many. So popular that Tseng’s request for a room was rejected.

His mobile wasn’t working, he didn’t have access to a helicopter, car, or Shinra’s network which could tell him some information about the current status of Kalm.

After his attack between Midgar and Kalm, Tseng decided to bridge the gap and enter the village. It was strange, he wasn’t sure where he was going before the attack and assumed he was headed here given the place the attack had happened.

There has been significant growth in Kalm and he wagered he was on his way here to check the status of the general population. The search of Jenova remnants was ever-present no matter where or what mission he was on. To have another crazed poisoned body stirring for annihilation and absorption of the Lifestream was the last thing they needed so soon after their recent contest with Sephiroth.

Tseng took to Kalm’s streets again, checking with establishments he crosses for boarding opportunities. He also stops a few places to eat, fix his phone, find a tablet, and or ask about the local activities. ]

{ooc; Feel free to place your character anywhere in Tseng's journey and if you have any questions or concerns please feel free to contact me!! Thank you!}

Arrival

[Shelke awoke with a groan, sprawled out on her side in the gravel and stone at the base of the mountains. Everything ached, even more than usual, and it took most of her energy to bunch up her hand against the ground and roll herself onto her back to look up at the...sky? A drop of rain smacked against the stones nearby, then another, but she ignored them, her attention focused on what was above it all.]

[She had been expecting a ceiling, there was always ceiling above her. Instead now it was a rainy gray sky. What was going on? She closed her eyes, forcing herself to focus. She had been...in Midgar. Under Midgar. Vincent had rescued her from Nero, and he and Yuffie had put her in the mako tube, and then...]

[And then she was here. What?]

[She forced herself to rise up into a sitting position, gloved hand brushing the stones from her hair absently as her unnaturally blue eyes scanned the horizon for a landmarks, only to find several. But none of them were right. Maybe she was dreaming? She rarely did, dreaming implied a deeper sleep than she trusted herself to get in Deepground. But she'd certainly never had one like this, either way. Maybe it was a side effect of the mako gas she was recuperating in. Or maybe she'd hit her head too hard fighting Nero and damaged something. Or maybe she'd just finally lost her mind.]

[Probably the third one.]

[She did a cursory check of herself, everything seemed intact, her sabers were still in her sheaths, a quick diagnostic of her neural net indicated everything was still ticking along like it should be. So, not broken, at least. Hopefully.]

[There wasn't any point in sitting here trying to figure things out, either. So after another minute or so of gathering up her energy she rose to her feet and started towards the closest thing she recognized. Midgar. Almost Midgar. The skyline didn't match her memory, or any of the images in her databank. The city of Edge, but the intact silhouette of the Shinra building? The Sister Ray? Well. She'd figure it out when she got there...]

[Not that she made it more than a quarter of the way before she had to sit down on a rock, hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath, her tiny frame already feeling the strain from the walk. And the rain certainly wasn't helping anything. Useless body.]

This is going to take forever.

[She murmured to herself, her voice flat but tinged with frustration. Just two minutes and she'd get moving again...]

Midgar

[When she finally reached the city, the first thing she did was look for a terminal that would let her access the Shinra network. If the Shinra Tower was here, then they had to have information on what was going on, an explanation for this bizarre...well, everything. At least she was reasonably sure this wasn't some kind of mako-induced dream, considering how sore she still felt. Dreams weren't supposed to be this uncomfortable, right?]

[When she finally found an access terminal, she wound up having to drag a box over to it, climbing up so she could more comfortably reach the keyboard. A quick second to take in the screen before she was flipping down the keyboard...and away she went. Her fingers were practically a blur as she moved from screen to screen, bypassing the public security encryption without even hesitating before starting in on the deeper ones. There had to be a way to access the internal network from here...]

[Of course, she wasn't exactly hiding what she was doing, far too used to the privacy that being a Tsviet offered her in Deepground. Here though, she was a child in glowing clothing, with Mako eyes, seemingly hacking her way through shinra security like it wasn't even there. And anyone could just walk up and look over her shoulder to see.]

[Whoops?]

Edited 2020-05-21 04:22 (UTC)

i. i buy my own things [arrival]

[The weeks after YRP's Epic Save the World Tour Part II haven't exactly been easy. Yuna is on Besaid, living her best life, and Paine is off adventuring and writing her book. Meanwhile, Rikku was... what? Hanging out with her brother and salvaging machina like she's twelve? Lame. Tidus always talked about having his story, and Yuna had picked that habit up while she'd been with the Gullwings--so where's Rikku's story? Okay, maybe that isn't a real question, but it's something to yell into the metaphorical void to make herself feel better.

Except the void isn't so metaphorical, and it yells back. Or at least it sends some creepy ghosty vilganc to knock her off her feet and nearly choke her to death. Cool move, void.

When she finally comes to, she has exactly two thoughts: I can't believe I'm not dead and It doesn't rain in the desert. While one of those things is definitely more important than the other, she focuses first on the latter, green eyes popping open as she sits up, leaning back on her hands and probably covered in grass and a little bit of mud. She spends about three and a half seconds looking around, and then her face scrunches up with what can only be called absolute seventeen-but-I'm-almost-eighteen-I-swear fury. Rikku yells the first words that come into her head, whether or not anybody is around to hear them. She even slaps her hands on the wet ground for emphasis.]

THIS ISN'T WHAT I HAD IN MIND!

ii. i pay my own bills [midgar]

[When presented with the option of a) a quaint little town with major inland Besaid vibes or b) a huge city she can easily get lost in, the choice is incredibly obvious to Rikku, just like she thinks it should be to anyone.

Midgar is, she thinks, what would happen if Luca, Bevelle, and Home all got mashed together and ended up only vaguely resembling any of the cities by themselves. There's machina everywhere, a lot of it unfamiliar, and Rikku can be found window shopping all over the city, which mostly means she's just a few millimeters from pressing her cute little nose against any given pane of glass separating her from whatever devices lie on the other side. Or clothes. A girl has to dress to impress, especially when she's in what is apparently totally not Spira.

But, as she's just arrived, Rikku is understandably short on cash. Unfortunately for many random passersby, this means she's going to play the part of the pickpocket--but only for a little while! She swears she's memorizing everyone's faces, and the next time she sees them, she's totally going to pay them back. A girl just needs a little gil to get on her feet, right? And, in the event she's caught, she'll give a high-pitched laugh and a bright smile, along with a friendly:]

Whoa there, hey! Yeah uh, your money was just stickin' out of your pocket, so I thought I'd just lean in real quick and tuck it back in.

[Who could possibly not believe a girl when she says it like that, huh?

In the event she isn't caught, well, she may just be using your cash to buy a little street food. She might even still have your wallet.]

iii. these diamond rings [wildcard]

[i don't know, choose your own adventure!!]

[ It's painful, really, that when his eyes open, he's expecting to see Rinoa's face there: her eyes, round and wide, begging for tears that seem too shocked to even pull forward, like they might be ashamed to scroll down her cheeks, like they're not allowed. It's a strange feeling, to want to tell the ghost of her not to worry; this is what a SeeD does, he thinks, they do missions and sometimes they die and sometimes there's a peace in that. After all, if everything's been doomed from the start, then what more can he really do? Irvine's shaking hands, Seifer's scowling face--the events skip through like pieces of film reel, clocking each second as something destined and already organized, something that's been promised since he passed his exam, since he went to Garden, since he'd been abandoned at the orphanage.

And at first, the pain is tolerable, though perhaps only by virtue of shock; it lances through his shoulder, down his arm, through his chest, and he only has that one moment of clarity--to recognize that he's been hit, that the Sorceress has just shredded ice through him like he's paper, ripped into the worn fabric of his jacket and out the back--before he's panicking, stumbling, falling back; he expects the ground to reach him before Rinoa's tears even fall. Maybe it's the way she stretches her arm out to him that makes him feel guilty; or maybe it's that there's a distinct sense of relief, through the pain, that he can close his eyes and that this life can be through and that all the struggles become nothing at all.

When his eyes open again, there's rain on his face. He expects it to be blood, when his gloved hand lifts and he stares at his fingers in them, rubs them together, but maybe it's just that the puddle underneath him hasn't had time to soak through all the layers. Maybe he's already dead. Alarming as it is, there's just a sigh that escapes, from lips that press together. Even like this, I still have more to do?

His elbows dig in, and slowly, he brings himself to sit up. There's a hole in his shoulder that desperately needs closing--he can feel the way it aches, the blood that drips down his back, staining his shirt. Around him, it's a picture of chaos--this is not Deling, this is not even Balamb, this is nowhere he's been before but it's covered in viscera and debris and he doesn't know how he got here at all. His gunblade lies just out of reach; a hiss of breath, and he manages to catch his fingers around the handle, draw it in close.

In the distance, his squinting eyes see a city. ]

From here, you can: (a) offer Squall a bit of assistance, (b) help him as he stumbles his way into Midgar, (c) make up your own.

[She is not one to stay knocked down for long! ~~Even death didn't completely silence her. Looking at you, Sephiroth!~~ Soaking wet, confused and cold, the flower-girl of Midgar hurries from sprawled person to sprawled person. She offers what healing she can, resting a hand on various foreheads until she is certain her "patients" have completely gained consciousness.]

This isn't any time to be sleeping! I know you feel awful, but we need to find shelter first. Then you can rest all you like, I promise.

[Can she make that promise? Who knows! The point is: let's move, soldier. Or...non-soldier. Civilian? She is holding out a hand, ready to pull even the largest of her "patients" to their feet. It's time to move out. No ifs, ands or buts about it.]

I can't carry you. I would try, but I think we would both end up in the dirt.

[Which isn't the worst place to be for a gardener. Still.]

[ The thing is--if a person starts thinking about all the terrible things they've done, the list will be so long that it'll be impossible to remember it all.

It's not like he considers it his most shining moment. Even Reno, who usually sits, trembling with excitement, at the edge of his seat for every mission doesn't like it, and that's saying something; the way he scoffs and looks off like it doesn't sit right, and a part of him feels grateful because it doesn't sit right with him, either. Having a rematch, he can understand, or settling some score--he gets that. He gets the balance of things like that. And it's not like he's so naive to not understand that sometimes sacrifices need to be made to achieve greater things, even if he doesn't like that either.

But there's something that feels distinctly, sickly wrong about making sure Tifa Lockhart doesn't get in his way. To shove her and make room for his gloved hand on the console, to push the button, to slam everything back into progress. Even if it's his mission, even if it's his orders, even if he's supposed to just follow them without question and hey, no one's paying him for his opinion, are they? But the countdown starts and he has to get Reno out of there. He has to get away from the look of horror, even on Cloud's face. He has to escape the odd feeling of shame. ]

( A )

[ And so he does. And so the world goes black, when he hauls Reno up over his shoulders. And then there's nothing.

Oddly, when he realizes himself again, the sky is a beautiful, sparkling sort of blue, the kind that he never sees anymore. It feels like his eyes only focus on the ceilings in HQ, the roof of the car, the top of the helicopter, the darkened night sky. There's never these moments to enjoy--where he comes to, stands up, and there's no one else there to tell him what to do.

Minor injuries. Hardly an inconvenience. Where's Reno? Where's anyone?

Begrudgingly, he starts his walk back to Midgar--the only place, he imagines, that may have the answers. ]

( B )

[ Except the city has more questions than answers. Because it's not a perfect replica of the place he knows: it's close, like looking at a reflection in a mirror, or one of those puzzles where a few things are starkly different and the rest are tiny little details that are just off, an uncanny valley. He's not entirely sure where to go to first, or why it is that his phone picks up no reception; no matter how much he fusses with it, it stays the same. Unavailable and silent.

He really doesn't want to have to ask for help--he imagines that it's relatively obvious that he's not just some passerby here; there are no big doe eyes behind his sunglasses or any sense of sweet abandon in his voice. He looks rough for wear, banged up and dirty and in blood that he's not even sure is his own, and it's a disappointment and a travesty to this suit, to look this poor when he decides the first order of business is, well, getting some form of transportation.

It's maybe a step below his pay grade to be rolling up his sleeve to duck his hand down into the open window of the first car he sees, parked and abandoned, on the side of the street, long fingers reaching for the lock to force it up. It's probably not a good look, to pull the door open once that's done and sink down into the seat before he realizes he's going to have to pop the steering column open and hotwire it. And, well, if someone happens to come across him, splashed out across the door frame with his hands and head tucked underneath, working busily to expose the wires--well, that would just make this day even better, or possibly worse. ]

[ It comes like it always does, a sudden jolt, and then it's like he's standing on nothing, or maybe something, but it's all so different he can hardly tell anyway. Voices splice in and out, the faint buzzing of something that seems to get close and then suddenly swoop away; it's like having fingers sifting through his thoughts, cataloging them into all kinds of bizarre folders that he doesn't understand and only gets a glimpse of before it goes away. Darkness and light, everything blending, fading, sharpening. Aerith's hands, clasped together, or a long trail of silver hair that turns the corner and disappears, or that voice that sounds so familiar that he can't even think to place it. No, he can't place any of them. He just feels them, like they're scenes in a movie but they're all passing through his body instead of the screen.

It's no wonder that when his hands finally claw away from the matted lengths of his hair, his eyes snap open and he's immediately on edge--that his hand reaches, familiar, for the weight of the sword at his back, gripping the worn handle like it's some extension of his fingers and it doesn't really matter what it is in front of him; there's an alarming sense of discomfort, where his eyes open and he thinks he must be inside one of these visions now, and it wouldn't be the first time he felt everything in his body go tight in coiled anticipation.

Because he's alone, but he's not alone--because there's rain, and then there's no rain. Because there's scenery both familiar and different, and maybe he has to cut through it all in order to just make it back to himself. Wherever himself is. Because they're usually so short, these sudden bursts of memory or recognition or whatever they are, that it feels odd to actually remember something else--to think that he recalls standing there, with Tifa and Aerith and Barret and even Red at the end of a long road with only uncertainty in sight, and to now be alone.

A sound at his back draws his attention, makes his hand go tight on the sword. He's not in a particularly forgiving mood, or maybe it's just the pulsing pain in his head that makes him stagger, slightly, when he swings to face whatever, or whoever, happened to make it. ]

What do you want?

[ It doesn't make sense, the way that things come into focus like she's seeing them for the first time, but then when has Midgar ever looked so beautiful, from so far away? Bright blue skies with the errant cloud, tiny wisps of white and even a little gray, which curl around the buildings like wrapping paper on a present. It almost looks inviting, in a way that she's never felt before, as if her feet want to propel her towards it even when she knows that they need to get away. Because her mind tells her that it's not safe, there, that they're not meant to be there anymore, that she has to run, that she should get away. It's easy to turn her back on a place that's brought heartache in the same way it's brought hopes and dreams, easy to wipe the rain off her arms and clench her hands in her gloves and steel herself for the other path, instead, a smile that finds its way across her face not because she's feeling particularly excited but because it's the easiest way to keep from giving in to exhaustion. ]

( A )

[ So she pads past the slaughter around her--the blood and the debris, the bodies that she thinks she should check for but worries that something might happen, that they won't turn out to be bodies at all but monsters or even something worse; and it makes her heart hurt to skip her steps quickly, climb down and away where she can, and escape the weight of destruction there like it slips off her as easy as a blanket. The cliffs give way to a whole sprawling picture of pretty greens and yellows, something she's so eager to get to that she has a misstep and skids down the last little bit of the path, her knee bracing her weight and scraping out along the dirt and rock.

But she's still smiling, or trying to force it, anyway, past the anxious bubble in her throat when she realizes that Cloud is not, in fact, just waiting out there for her with everyone else; that the greenery where she would have assumed they'd all meet after whatever happened is empty.

Or is it? She sets her sneakers into the dirt, brushes a little blood off her skinned knee and then stubbornly pursues a path towards Kalm. ]

( B )

[ Her hands are worrying over each other, clasped in at her back as she makes her way into the town--it's nearly silent, just the odd sound of a bird chirping and the breeze running through trees, making her hair push up at her body and past her hips, faintly. She doesn't know quite what she'd expected--maybe a fight? Some sort of stand? Someone there to capture her? Yet even the courtyard where she peeks in is silent and eerily absent of others; then again, maybe it's late enough that most of the townsfolk are inside.

Or maybe it's a ghost town? The thought makes her shoulders shiver a little. But there's no time for that--she can be brave, she can push forward, she can hopefully find someone to talk to.

The first place she decides to try is the inn, or what she assumes to be the inn, given the sign over the door. Bells jangle as she walks in, creaks the door open and leans into it, curling her head around it as though she might get a better sense of who she might be dealing with before she comes in all the way. At best, they'll have a phone, or a room, or some information for her as to what's the current news; at worst, they'll have to at least let her use the bathroom to clean herself up some and maybe even get a bandage for her knee. ]

Hello?

Arrival

[Sephiroth is aware of the many things that have happened in his life (if it could be called that anymore) which has brought him to this point: lies, deceit, loss, truth, pain, anger, rage, death. All of those emotions and ideas together made him who he is today.

But none of them could compare to what he's feeling right now.

Confusion.

And for a moment his thoughts shifted from his normal central obsession and towards the fact that he has no idea what happened. How he is here and out of the list ream.

All his previous knowledge gained suddenly seems very limited. So despite being Gaia's biggest threat, he's mostly standing there looking very out of place.]

Where --

[He's far too bewildered yo even complete that sentence]

Midgar

[Having made his way to the city (it does help when a person can fly), he gets the feeling that something is very off. Not that he particularly cares if Midgar were to suddenly collapse at his feet, but none of this made any sense.

And it wasn't as though he could just summon meteor and name it all go away.

That probably wouldn't help his confusion anyway.

Or the confusion of other people seeing a person hovering in the air with a single wing. (As he's not exactly being subtle about himself)

After a few moments he'll land in front of a bar and go inside, not for a drink but because if there is one thing he remembers from his time in SOLDIER is that drunk people like to talk.

And if he doesn'tget any answers maybe he'll just murder everyone inside.]

and you may find yourself living in a shotgun shack

[her first thought upon consciousness is oh, the sky has never looked so big before. but then again, when's the last time she had a moment to look up at the sky and not see death hanging above them, looming, a beast without teeth? so much has happened Elena hasn't thought about it.

There was a battle she doesn't recall around her-- oh, she remembers her own battle: what will scar deep and what will heal but leave an edge within her like roots in the earth. (always) laughing, cruel green eyes, a mad scramble to catch a not so mad king before he falls, humpty dumpty style. but that is not this, and when she finds her phone has no service she begins to grow worried.

when she sees the great city in the distance, and That canon cheerfully pointed where it isn't supposed to be-- she feels a deep sense of dread. if she happens to find you along her long, long trek, she'll ask you:]

Hey...am I crazy or is this not..right? [the second is:] Do you have anything to eat?

and you may tell yourself 'this is not my beautiful house'

[the first thing she does is go home to Midgar. or try to, for nothing is the way it's supposed to be and the place where her apartment is supposed to stand is something else and-- it's just very screwy. it's screwy. so instead of kicking at the door of the place her place is supposed to be at (okay so she kicks it like, three times, so what), she settles with a heavy heart and a broken high heel to ruminate.

when you pass her by she won't pop up all perky tailed and bright eyed, but she'll sigh loudly. do you ignore it, or do you approach this dejected little thing?]

same as it ever was

[I just wanted to add that one, this is a choose your own adventure! if you want to plot you can pm me here, otherwise just throw something at her if you'd like]

Aw, fuck!

[ A colorful string of curses follows suit as a heap of metal overhead suddenly crashes onto the ground. While Midgar has never looked so damn beautiful, the entire place is nothing more than an ugly wreck now. A testament of Shinra's megalomaniacal goals and the world ending battle that was fought here. Cid was in the middle of salvaging some of the scraps when half of the junkheap here came sliding down from the upper plate. It's a miracle that the former pilot wasn't crushed but Cid looks a little banged up to say the least. ]

This is fucking ridiculous!

[He curses as he puffs on his cigarette. This is his fourth smoke for the day. Whenever the Captain gets irritated, the man starts smoking like a chimney.]

You would think I would be able to just jump up there but fucking gravity--

[Is he really bitching about gravity right now? Yep. The Captain is a cankerous old fool most of the time. Don't let his ornery disposition trouble you too much.]

Who the hell are you lookin' at?

[Cid suddenly asks once he spots a pair of eyes on him.]

Yeah, I'm talkin' to ya!

[Who in the hell is he talking to like that? Well, it might just be you if you're some hapless wanderer. If not, maybe it's the guy next to you? Either way, Cid is on the proverbial warpath as usual. Duck if necessary.]

Edited 2020-05-22 15:16 (UTC)

[ "I may abandon Shinra"

The last word had barely left his lips before hands were around his throat, panic flooding through him as Masamune didn't respond to his call. Just as suddenly as they'd appeared the hands disappeared and Sephiroth opened his eyes to find himself down on one knee with his left hand braced against the earth, Masamune gripped tightly as if she hadn't somehow ignored his call.

He waited a few seconds, breathing slow and deep, in case whatever that was appeared again, but nothing appeared. A thought banished Masamune back to the ether and Sephiroth rose to his feet to see where he'd found himself and to find a way back to Midgar.

He didn't get far however; his eyes wide, Sephiroth gazed at the miles of healthy, green land that stretched before him, trying to understand how the wastes had changed so suddenly.

Kalm

He decided to head to Kalm before Midgar. Whatever had brought him here might be waiting for him back at the capital and he wanted to ensure he had everything he needed before he potentially faced it again.

The shops might not have as much as those in Midgar, but he still stopped by each one he passed, browsing wares and ensuring he had potions just in case.

Midgar

Sephiroth entered Midgar through what used to be the Sector 6 slums but now appeared to be a bustling, legal shopping center. Curiosity took hold of him and he stopped at several of the stands that lined the street, picking through the displayed goods to see if there was anything that caught his eye.

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Andrea Rhodea

Rufus Shinra