bakerstreet | ❄ snowfall

[Dropped into a strange land, Syaoran isn't sure where his companions are, but he seems to be entranced by the snow. The last time he had seen it a feather had been present, along with a problem, and he hadn't had much time to enjoy it. This time though, he can take a moment to appreciate it, his hands raised palms up to feel the touch of soft flakes against his fingers.

Growing up in a desert country, snow wasn't something he had ever seen in the kingdom of Clow, but here? In other worlds, it was always a possibility.

Though, the chill of the wind was starting to get to him, pulling his cloak closer around himself, breathe puffing out in white clouds. Perhaps there was shelter nearby, and his companions had found shelter of their own in the meantime..?]

[ This time of year in the mountains even the first faint fall of snow can be dangerous, a bad omen in the making for travelers and townspeople alike. But Cloud has other things on his mind (a lot of other things) - and, besides, it's not like he's unfamiliar with the risk.

Anyway, he knows this side of the range like the back of his hand. He's not worried about getting lost or turned around, even in the dark of the latening day, the sunset faraway and unimportant, already. Nothing but a dying bonfire, somewhere over the foothills. He can be back in an hour or two and not much worse for the wear, in only his simple fatigues and gear. At least so far as the cold is concerned. He should be more worried about monsters, but he hasn't seen any in a day or two, and he's got his rifle slung carelessly over one shoulder, in case of emergencies.

(He'd briefly debated asking Zack to borrow one of his lower leveled materia before heading on his impromptu hike out of town, but that would've undoubtedly invoked opening up more unwelcome lines of conversation with him. And Cloud thought he'd rather take his chances than have to argue about how he chose to act in his own hometown, again.)

Out far enough past the soft glow of lights long since put on to drive back the encroaching dark, it's a little easier to breathe. And as he marches on aimlessly down the rapidly deteriorating road out of town, flurries of snow breaking around him in little eddies and swirls, he reaches up to remove that stupid, suffocating helmet-- Only to drop the visor again just as abruptly and reach for his gun, not quite pulling it up. Those sounded like a person's footsteps, after all, and not a monster's. (But better safe than sorry.) ]

H-Hello? Who's out there?

[The growing darkness is hard to take in, his handicap making it rather dangerous to be out later in the night, in the low lights. Though, training with Kurogane has helped him some, closing his eyes and trying to focus on the life around him, or rather, lack of. It's cold and not much is scurrying around in this weather. Once more, he pulls his cloak tighter around his body, wishing for a thicker material in this weather. He's thankful that the last world they had entered, his princess had been wearing heavier clothes and a dress with full sleeves and skirts. She would be warm enough.

Stumbling in the darkness, there is the faint light ahead of something in the far off distance, hard to see as he navigates his way toward it, but as soon as he had started to feel some relief, the sound of footsteps and a voice calls out to him. Without Hien, he will have to use just his legs to defend himself and in this low light and soft snow, he's not so sure how well he'll fair if there is going to be a fight.]

Sir? I've lost my way, can you help me?

[ The immediate answer is such a relief that he almost drops his rifle (though it wouldn't go any further than banging against his hip, if he did, still looped securely over his shoulder). It's just a traveler, or a merchant, or somebody so desperately lost they'd actually end up here - or all three, though whoever it is, he sounds too young to really be any of those things. (Not that Cloud has any room to talk.) ]

Um, yeah. You're not far from town, actually.

[ And with the snow coming down like it is, not heavy yet but promising soon, the guy's got to have the devil's own luck, showing up, now, here.

The dim, red glow from the three lights on the front of Cloud's bulky helmet bob briefly as he nods, pointing back the way he'd only just come. ] It's right over the hill.

[Following the sound of the voice further, Syaoran is a bit surprised at the glow of his helmet, not expecting it. To be quiet honest it isn't helping his vision any either.] Thank goodness...I thought I might freeze to death out here.

[The presence of a town doesn't mean he'll get shelter necessarily though, taking a few steps closer to the other young man. One of the problems with traveling from world to world is that you never have the right currency...getting an inn would be impossible at the moment without any way to pay for it.] You wouldn't happen to be from that town, would you?

[ His response to that is another nod, as if the notion of dying of hypothermia is just as mild as passing news of the so far only pleasantly inclement weather; it is, though, for the most part. And since to Cloud it is a foregone conclusion that this complete stranger is bound to find shelter in the small village beyond the next rise, he hasn't got any better reason to be dramatic about it.

His next question, though - instead of answering outright, Cloud hesitates. When he does think of something to say, it's only an awkwardly noncommittal, probably nonsensical, ] ...Kind of.

[ He shoulders the strap of his gun up a little higher and motions vaguely for the traveler to follow him back up, before speaking again. The tone of his voice has gone from surprised, clearly curious, to outwardly sullen just as quickly as the day's last light bleeds from the sky. ] Why does it matter?

[Syaoran doesn't think it's quite so easy to ignore. He can't die, not yet. He still has a job to do. But, the next step is getting out of the cold, even if the snow is beautiful, it is dangerous.

Curious as he is of his answer, Syaoran doesn't question it. He could say himself that he is 'kind of' from Clow country. There are many different reasons why a person might not truly feel attached to their home, country or city alike.] I'm just...

[He hesitates himself, knowing that in most places he's traveled, there was always kindness that followed him. Only in places uninhabited by people did they not have a place to stay.] I don't have any money...I doubt any inn would want me if I can't pay for my room.

The snow probably won't let up for a while. [ As if that's some argument-endingly obvious pronunciation, a distinct note of skepticism slips into his tone; beneath his helmet, there's a similarly arched brow - but the better part of that expression is invisible, still. ]

If you can't pay, somebody will take you in. Or you can work off your bill. [ He knows that much from experience. The Inn is still run by the same couple who once let him do the same to pay off a night - though he was only six or seven, then, and the hotel across the town common was as far as he'd gotten running away from home, that time. (Rates for falling asleep behind the counter were more than likely a little lower, too.)

Regardless. The principle is probably the same, with their slightly more serious customers. ] But putting someone out in this weather would be as good as killing them. They won't do that.

[ At least not to a stranger. ]

I suppose you're right... [Without the princess though, he had worried that her luck wouldn't follow him. She was always the one whose luck pulled them all out of bad situations. That and there wasn't many who could turn down the young princess when she smiled like she did.]

Thank you, I guess I tend to worry too much when my companions aren't here. I appreciate your help. [Rubbing his hands on his arms under his cloak, he gives the helmet-man a curious glance.] I'm Syaoran by the way, sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier. [He was a little too busy worrying about freezing to death.]

S'okay. [ As they top the steep rise, the water tower is first to come into view, a massive tank balanced on heavy wooden stilts, the big, metal pinwheel on top creaking as it turns in the freshening, icy wind. The dark red roofs of the small cluster of houses and businesses that make up the better part of Nibelheim are slower to materialize out of the dark, blending in almost perfectly with the mountain-shapes behind them, at night. Here on the flat, stone path leading in through the town gates, the snow has already begun to pile up - in tiny drifts, parodies in miniature of what the village will be in for, in the coming months. Real winter's just around the corner.

Cloud doesn't offer to introduce himself as he looks across the empty, open square, indecisive for a moment. (How is he supposed to say that he can't, though? That he'd rather not offer his name, just in case Syaoran decides to actually use it?)

Instead, he cuts to the right around the tower, pointing up ahead again (though this time in a cautious, secretive way). ] ...I guess I forgot the Inn's kind of full, right now. But that's my house. We can at least go in while you figure out what you want to do.

[With one eye blind, the roofs really do blend in, Syaoran squinting in the snow before he can make out the shapes, the water tower standing out easily at least. He stays quiet for the most part, not really sure why this young man is so keen on secrecy, but it isn't something to concern himself with. He's being kind and he's thankful for it.]

If you're sure...I don't want to intrude on your home. [And having caught on a little, his tone is soft, even if no one seems to be around that he can feel other than the young man standing next to him. The offer is a relief though, even if he feels like this isn't something he really wants to be doing, being so careful about volume and hiding his face. A little strange, but perhaps everyone in this land wears helmets?

It might not be so strange after all.] But I can't complain about getting out of the cold for at least a little bit. If it wasn't obvious, I'm not exactly used to this kind of weather.

It's fine. [ And he means that, if nothing else, at face value. By the lights-out look of the place, his mom's already asleep - and since it's only the two of them, it isn't like they're at a great shortage of space. Besides, he'll have to report back on duty at the Inn by morning, either way. And the company might be a plus for her (he knows he's done a poor job of catching up with his mother, even if he's been nowhere near as bad around her as the rest of the town).

Although his prediction is correct - Mrs. Strife is nowhere to be seen, as he steps inside - there's still a fire burning down in the wood stove, and the relatively small, open house is still comfortably warm, compared to the great outdoors. To Cloud, that is. Who is used to this weather, and considers the temperature outside only a little below comfortably brisk. ]

Um, have a seat wherever. [ He gestures to the room, at large - which is more or less the whole interior of the house, excepting the cellar and the one small bedroom at the back. Pulling off his helmet what feels like a lot later than he'd originally meant to, Cloud leaves it on the table (careful not to drop it and make more noise than necessary), as he heads for the stove, to wake the fire back up a little with some fresh kindling from the small reserve woodpile beside it. ] Just be quiet, okay?

If you're sure. [Following Cloud into the house, he feels like it isn't all that much warmer than outside, following him to the fire and spreading his hands out to warm them with enough room left to not get in Cloud's way. His feet feel rather frozen in his boots, but he isn't going to take them off to warm them up before he finishes warming his hands.

Though, when Cloud pulls off his helmet, he's pleasantly surprised. And here he was thinking maybe it was a custom of this world to wear one. Rubbing his hands together, he nods, not really the loud sort of boy anyways, but he does still have questions, whispered out softly so as not to disturb who ever must be sleeping somewhere in the house.]

I'm sorry to pry, but is there a reason you kept your helmet on? I can't help but feel like you're trying to hide from something.

Yeah. Mom won't mind. [ It doesn't take much to get the fire going again, and once he's brought it back up to a respectable level, Cloud shuffles back to take an unobtrusive spot on the side of the brightly radiating warmth. With the heavy metal door left open, the fire's making quick work of the remaining chill in the large room; the cottage may be open, but it's well insulated against the nearly year-long cold of the Nibel mountains.

He sets his rifle down by the little square of kitchen counter nearby, and almost sort of smiles as he glances back at Syaoran. ] She might try to put you to work, in the morning, too, though. If you stay.

[ The pleasant change in his standoffish demeanor is not one that lasts any longer than it takes his guest to break his silence on the matter of Cloud's strange behavior, though. He casts another glance back over his shoulder, this time toward the shadow-shape of his helmet sitting on the table in the low, flickering light. Then he wraps his arms around his knees, where he's sitting, shrugging his shoulders as he contemplates the dark space between the stove and the old, round fridge. ]

...It's nobody's business. [ Let alone some wandering passerby. Maybe he'd be in a more equitable mood if he hadn't already fielded the same question a minimum of ten times in the past day, from a certain CO with trouble keeping his mouth shut. ]

Well thank you for your hospitality. I'll make sure to be as helpful as I can in the morning. [He rubs his hands together again and sighs, thankful of the warmth. Growing up in a desert, he isn't used to the cold, even if the nights on the sands were chilly, it was never like this.

The quiet answer gets Syaoran to instantly regret his curiosity, turning to look down at Cloud. As a guest, the last thing he wanted was to upset his host, and here he had been so kind as to take him in from the cold.] I'm sorry, that was rude of me. I had no place in asking, especially when you're helping me.

I'll remember my manners from now on.

...It's not like that.

[ Immediately stricken with an ugly flash of guilt, at that, Cloud shakes his head - but doesn't look up from under the safe shield of his bangs, face just as hidden as beneath his helmet. ]

I just-- Don't want anybody to know I'm here. [ It's bad enough, already, between skirting the subject with his mother and with Zack. Adding one more person to worry about accidentally (or intentionally) mentioning him behind his back wasn't going to help his stressed out mentality. ]

Oh... [His curiosity is back ten fold, but he decides to think on his questions more seriously now, trying to phrase them in a way that isn't too prying, perhaps even relative and sympathetic. To be quite honest, it's easy to do.]

I can understand and respect that. Where I come from, the king of the land doesn't approve of me at all...even if his sister, the princess, is my best friend. It's easier to avoid any sort of argument or unrest when the people you're most conscious of and conflicted with don't know you're around.

Is there some one you're avoiding, or would you rather I just drop the subject?

[ It's a weird comparison, but Cloud supposes there's something similar, there. The part about kings and princesses doesn't quite fit (sure aren't any places Cloud knows of that still have stuff like that), unless the Mayor of a piddly little village in the middle of nowhere and his much beloved daughter count. And if he's not really friends with the "princess" at all - just wishes he was. From a distance.

Even if it's sympathetic, the story still strikes the same nerve as Syaoran's initial question, and Cloud shakes his head again. ]

Just forget it. It's not important, anyway.

❄ snowfall

Cloud Strife | FFVII: Crisis Core

Stage iii, 2

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject