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OPEN/MINGLE — SMASHING GARDENS
[ Meanwhile, in the middle of the desert......
What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immoveable object? Who knows. This is more like two old, rusted Chevys trading flirting touches at low speeds. Galbadia Garden and Balamb Garden are careening into one another in a way that some of you might find all too familiar.
Maybe this happened years ago for you, maybe it hasn't happened yet, maybe you had no business being in these crazy hoverships in the first place, but regardless. You're here now and it's time to brace for impact. This one will be an even bigger problem, because there's no one at the helm of these ships. It's as if they've developed a will of their own and driven themselves into one another, sending both vessels careening into the boiling sands below.
Luckily, these things are as hardy as they are ancient. They'll both need new paint jobs and extracurricular activities will be out of the question for some time, but when the dust clears, everything is mostly intact. The Gardens will fly again. Someday.
Anyway, this is your chance to mingle somewhere that isn't Midgar. Both Gardens are smushed together, accessible through Galbadia Garden's basketball court. Maybe you want to organize a search and rescue. Or start doing damage assessment and making repairs. Maybe you wanna do some figure skating on the definitely not demon-infested hockey rink. Whatever you want, congrats, you're not in Midgar anymore. ]
What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immoveable object? Who knows. This is more like two old, rusted Chevys trading flirting touches at low speeds. Galbadia Garden and Balamb Garden are careening into one another in a way that some of you might find all too familiar.
Maybe this happened years ago for you, maybe it hasn't happened yet, maybe you had no business being in these crazy hoverships in the first place, but regardless. You're here now and it's time to brace for impact. This one will be an even bigger problem, because there's no one at the helm of these ships. It's as if they've developed a will of their own and driven themselves into one another, sending both vessels careening into the boiling sands below.
Luckily, these things are as hardy as they are ancient. They'll both need new paint jobs and extracurricular activities will be out of the question for some time, but when the dust clears, everything is mostly intact. The Gardens will fly again. Someday.
Anyway, this is your chance to mingle somewhere that isn't Midgar. Both Gardens are smushed together, accessible through Galbadia Garden's basketball court. Maybe you want to organize a search and rescue. Or start doing damage assessment and making repairs. Maybe you wanna do some figure skating on the definitely not demon-infested hockey rink. Whatever you want, congrats, you're not in Midgar anymore. ]
no subject
And then Quistis is turning back to her, which, ah yeah. Her work isn't quite over here, now is it? ]
Yeah, nah. Don't mention it.
[ She goes down on one knee before Quistis, frowning over the state of her. Really only one option here, if she wants to keep that pretty skin of hers intact. First, she shoots a wary glance up at the kid, at Quistis, wondering if it'll be worth it. The last thing she needs is for Quistis to hurt herself worse running—or fighting, Fang would put down some serious gil on the assumption that this one can be quite formidable—when she realizes what Fang is.
But some things can be figured out later. ]
Don't be afraid.
[ She requests softly, lifting her hand. The green glow of curative magics creates a dazzling aura around her fingers. She tries to be quick about it, willing that intense pull of energy into all the wounds that she can see. There are quick jobs, and then there are thorough ones, and Fang doesn't care if she gets chased out of this place with torches and pitchforks. This is one gig worth doing the right way. ]