[ Welcome to boring, depressing beautiful, scenic Nibelheim.
Or the blackened, rubble-strewn patch of earth where the town was once nestled, impossibly small, so high up in the mountains. There really isn't much left to see, as the only structure left completely intact (untouched, in fact) is the water tower in the center of town -- the rest of the homes and shops, and even the inn, have all been reduced to their last standing supports, the remnants of walls holding in only spare, broken furniture and scattered possessions that survived the brunt of the destruction.
Wildfire, it looks to have been, with great, heaping drifts of dark grey ash gathered up but not yet blown away by the wind. Flakes drift through the air like snow, even without a breeze, swirled up into little tornadoes and spread farther around. The sun is shining, and the sky overhead is clear and blue and terribly close.
This is a peaceful dream, for once, though Cloud is no less prepared for a fight as he mills aimlessly through the debris, pale face and hair streaked with dirt and ash. Putting out a nightmare and manifesting the sword on his back is about the extent of his lucid creativity, for now, but he's perfectly content with only that. ]
cloud strife ☼ final fantasy vii ☼ ota
boring, depressingbeautiful, scenic Nibelheim.Or the blackened, rubble-strewn patch of earth where the town was once nestled, impossibly small, so high up in the mountains. There really isn't much left to see, as the only structure left completely intact (untouched, in fact) is the water tower in the center of town -- the rest of the homes and shops, and even the inn, have all been reduced to their last standing supports, the remnants of walls holding in only spare, broken furniture and scattered possessions that survived the brunt of the destruction.
Wildfire, it looks to have been, with great, heaping drifts of dark grey ash gathered up but not yet blown away by the wind. Flakes drift through the air like snow, even without a breeze, swirled up into little tornadoes and spread farther around. The sun is shining, and the sky overhead is clear and blue and terribly close.
This is a peaceful dream, for once, though Cloud is no less prepared for a fight as he mills aimlessly through the debris, pale face and hair streaked with dirt and ash. Putting out a nightmare and manifesting the sword on his back is about the extent of his lucid creativity, for now, but he's perfectly content with only that. ]