[ it's nice to see that the kid has some furniture in his room now. the last time he stepped foot inside, it was mostly bare. he didn't even have a bed. the hospital was passing out furnishing, but vincent didn't stop to take a look at any of them. he isn't in the spirit to play house right now, settling for a decrepit warehouse further within the gradually crumbling city — one he has only visited once to store his coffin.
he still has no idea why they've given it to him when he hasn't laid eyes on it for almost three years now.
when cloud finally notices him, he folds his arms over his chest as he dips his head down, the collar of his cloak now effectively concealing the lower half of his face. he lets the silence drag out between them, his eyes averted off to the side — almost like a child expecting to be scolded for doing something wrong. ]
[Don't expect it to get too cozy in here. Cloud's lived rough for a while. Besides, the way he looks at it, the minute this place starts to look lived-in is the minute he's given up hope on getting back to the others, to the place where he belongs.
Vincent looks different. He realizes, after a moment observing, that he doesn't look different, he looks guilty. The merc's shoulders sag somewhat.
He's had days to think. About what he would say - about them, about what's been going on - and now that it's time to say something, it feels like his mouth has gone dry.]
[There's a bed and that happens to pull double duty as a couch.
Rolling a shoulder only marginally addresses the tension. Cloud rests a hand against the Buster Sword propped up against the wall, steadying himself with an inhale. In through the nose, out through his mouth.]
I thought about it. What's been going on. What you told me.
[The last time they stood in this apartment.]
Got something to say. I'm not sure where to start.
His one consolation is the Unnamed City is seriously neglected, it isn't full of people, so there's some privacy, even outside of that small, sparce apartment.]
...... You-
[Shaking his head, he presses on.]
You said it yourself. Before. My memory's unreliable.
[He thought about it for days, convinced himself he'd packaged it up, everything he wanted to say, all nice and neat. That it wouldn't be like this, when it came down to it.
Except here's the thing. Someone could say "In the end, it's still Cloud", but given everything that he's come to understand the last few days, he's come to question how much of him is actually "Cloud".]
I didn't recognize Zack. You, too.
It's like there's these- [His exhale is, again, frustrated.]
[that silence goes on a lot longer than he'd like.]
These lives inside me. That don't always line up.
[Things he remembers doing. Things he remembers doing even when they contrast with other things he remembers doing, things that belonged to someone else. Or to Zack.
Then there are the other things, those brief flashes, that are at once familiar and... unfamiliar, that evoke such a profound response in him that it's hard to dismiss them as anything other than real.]
[ he can't begin to imagine what it's like for him, so he won't.
maybe he should have lent cloud his ears more often back on gaia, but he was still coming to terms with his own life and then, well, deepground happened. ]
[Articulating just this much has been an ordeal. Assembling something that makes sense? Out of everything he's learned and felt and thought in the last few weeks? That's a big ask.]
We're friends, right.
[Cloud hates how he hears Zack echoing out of his own mouth, not because of his admiration for Zack, but because he's seeing what he's built himself up to be in a different light, realizing how much of that was based on some... elevated ideal of SOLDIER, of Zack, of-]
[ truthfully, he... didn't expect cloud to come to him this quickly — to discuss what's going on with his mind. vincent figured that he would need more time, to deal with it on his own. it's significant progress that he's even trying right now, even if he's backpedaling quite a bit. he can understand though.
it's never easy to talk about one's own afflictions and, for that, cloud is far braver than he is. ]
[There's not a whole lot to distract himself with here and there's only so much clearing debris and slap-shod repair attempts he can do without tools and materials better than scrap. Left with nothing but time to think, even someone like Cloud will try to find respite or resolution.
He's also really short on allies. Going it alone as long as he had, the irony that he grew used to company enough to miss it isn't lost on him.
With furrowed brows, crossed arms, and even fewer words, Cloud's answer is just]
it seems all the inactivity has given cloud a little too much time to think. but to be fair to him, he isn't familiar with vincent or aware of what type of relationship they have in the future. it's still a needless train of thought though. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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he still has no idea why they've given it to him when he hasn't laid eyes on it for almost three years now.
when cloud finally notices him, he folds his arms over his chest as he dips his head down, the collar of his cloak now effectively concealing the lower half of his face. he lets the silence drag out between them, his eyes averted off to the side — almost like a child expecting to be scolded for doing something wrong. ]
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Vincent looks different. He realizes, after a moment observing, that he doesn't look different, he looks guilty. The merc's shoulders sag somewhat.
He's had days to think. About what he would say - about them, about what's been going on - and now that it's time to say something, it feels like his mouth has gone dry.]
...You wanna sit?
[God damn it, Cloud.]
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there is no chair in sight. ]
No. [ he's fine. ]
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Rolling a shoulder only marginally addresses the tension. Cloud rests a hand against the Buster Sword propped up against the wall, steadying himself with an inhale. In through the nose, out through his mouth.]
I thought about it. What's been going on. What you told me.
[The last time they stood in this apartment.]
Got something to say. I'm not sure where to start.
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his full attention is on cloud now, crimson hues trained onto him. ]
You don't have to be shy with me. Speak your mind.
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WOW.
Shut up Vincent don't call his ass out he just met you. smh he can't even use the "don't talk like you know me" argument.]
.......
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what did he just say ]
Do you need some time alone?
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yeah, he's following behind u quietly. he may or may not be smiling vaguely, but your turned back will never let u see it now. ]
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turn around, u chocobo head. ]
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Ever occur to you you're an asshole?
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Yes.
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Forget it.
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I can't.
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His one consolation is the Unnamed City is seriously neglected, it isn't full of people, so there's some privacy, even outside of that small, sparce apartment.]
...... You-
[Shaking his head, he presses on.]
You said it yourself. Before. My memory's unreliable.
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he gives an affirmative nod. ]
I did.
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Except here's the thing. Someone could say "In the end, it's still Cloud", but given everything that he's come to understand the last few days, he's come to question how much of him is actually "Cloud".]
I didn't recognize Zack. You, too.
It's like there's these- [His exhale is, again, frustrated.]
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he is nothing but patience, so go on and collect your thoughts. he'll wait. ]
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These lives inside me. That don't always line up.
[Things he remembers doing. Things he remembers doing even when they contrast with other things he remembers doing, things that belonged to someone else. Or to Zack.
Then there are the other things, those brief flashes, that are at once familiar and... unfamiliar, that evoke such a profound response in him that it's hard to dismiss them as anything other than real.]
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maybe he should have lent cloud his ears more often back on gaia, but he was still coming to terms with his own life and then, well, deepground happened. ]
Explain them to me.
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We're friends, right.
[Cloud hates how he hears Zack echoing out of his own mouth, not because of his admiration for Zack, but because he's seeing what he's built himself up to be in a different light, realizing how much of that was based on some... elevated ideal of SOLDIER, of Zack, of-]
Whatever you're expecting, forget it.
[Zack's Cloud...
Vincent's Cloud...
He'll only let them down.]
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it's never easy to talk about one's own afflictions and, for that, cloud is far braver than he is. ]
What do you think I'm expecting?
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He's also really short on allies. Going it alone as long as he had, the irony that he grew used to company enough to miss it isn't lost on him.
With furrowed brows, crossed arms, and even fewer words, Cloud's answer is just]
A different me.
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it seems all the inactivity has given cloud a little too much time to think. but to be fair to him, he isn't familiar with vincent or aware of what type of relationship they have in the future. it's still a needless train of thought though. ]
I'm not.
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