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bakerstreet2019-10-24 10:46 am
meeem) wrote in bakerstreet2019-10-24 10:46 am
Entry tags:
body heat
Post with your character! They're now stuck in a very cold place of your choice. It can be anything, such as a freezing chamber, a cavern or a small cabin in the midst of a blizzard. The choice is up to you.
Comment around! Now your character has some company in this bone-chilling environment. The two of them share two things in common: clothes completely unfitting for this weather (be they summer clothes or even lingerie) and a blanket. A blanket? Yes, just one warm blanket and no other ways to escape the cold. The two of them will have to share it in order to stay alive in this weather. Don't worry, you're sure to find a common language in this terrible situation!
So, uh, have fun, I suppose. Try to not freeze to death!
Protip: friction and body heat are both excellent ways to fend off cold.
♥
What didn't kill you made you stronger. But that saying didn't say what didn't kill you didn't leave fractures. Countless, invisible little fractures beneath the surface. Fractures that had to be pressed to truly become apparent, but painful without external influence.
But to Cloud at least, speaking to Nier about small things- inconsequential things, was almost a relief. It stopped what roiled in his head from growing bigger for the duration of their conversations- it even gave him things to think on for the times they'd both said goodbye and parted. Different things. Inconsequential things, but useful things.
Some examples of these conversations were where to pick berries to add some sort of flavour to the the (decent but bland) provisions the inn had in abundance for the times the weather isolated it- where not to pick berries- even, sometimes, some story about towns Nier had passed through so far. Some Cloud knew of, some he hadn't.
It was difficult to think Nier from anything further than some foreign continent. He was practical enough, observant enough, for the truth of his origin to not feel the case, and he'd never explicitly pointed it out. It was easy to believe the places he'd spoken of in passing were just over to the next continent.
But this- this is different. Where he's going is directly related to what wasn't inconsequential. But as the man stands beside him, he nods. ]
Yeah.
[As was the case since Midgar, his words are plain. But there's more to them then what's stated. Whether its the way his head seems to lower a little, the look in his eyes as he turns them past the other's face to the shack- the fact he's ceased his quiet shivering to answer.
What the kid had seen was probably him. But.]
Let's go.
[He walks the short distance through the snow without any other statement, opening the door with a creak. There's a downstairs at the opposite end of the room. And this is plain. Age clings to it in dust and darkness- sparse, dated furnishing, but most apparently, a large screen. He holds the door open.]
no subject
...and he understands, in a way. he remembers those years after he lost yonah — how little had to say to anyone, despite how much he was thinking.
but those conversations were enough to consider him a friend in nier's eyes. nothing wrong with that, he thinks. so he follows suit, letting him take the lead. there's a bow of the head as cloud opens the door for him, a silent thanks, and he steps into the house. the floorboards squeak underneath his feet, and he takes a moment to let his gaze wander; there were chairs, clearly meant for a family but their color has clearly dulled, the fabric now fraying.
there's a large, reflective rectangle suspended in the center. technology: still an oddity he hadn't grown used to. ]
You watch things on this, right?
[ it's a stupid question, probably. but he doesn't fiddle with anything, not yet. instead he takes a step back, eyes roving over the rug beneath his feet, the abandoned future, the way the house still looks half lived in. ]
Whoever was here didn't get a chance to say goodbye.
[ there's a silence. he isn't looking at cloud now — he wants to grant him that privacy, that right to his own feelings, if this place truly is sacred to him. ]
...Wherever they are now, I'm sure that they're okay.
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[It's not a stupid question. On this world, there's still so many civilisations that, despite the usage of mako energy to power it, are too poor to understand what these things are until they see it. It's easy to assume that's the case with Nier too.
To show him, Cloud indicates to the corner of the room, and to a large metal arm with cobwebs hanging off it- shining in the dim light the torn shutters affords the place. The camera itself has been destroyed with gunfire by the looks of the wall behind it- punctured through with bullets a while ago- the arm is extended, twisted upward offering nothing, the fragments of what was the recording device on the floor directly below it. Again, covered in dust.]
That thing captured the images and sound. They saved some of them before it was destroyed.
[Which he'd viewed. Intently. Repeatedly. They didn't provide clues or comfort, for him. More like things which only caused more concern, more worry- long explanations of things humans shouldn't know. But beneath all of it- the stories about parasitic viruses, the planet's self-defence system, there was something. The allusion that someone gone was born here. That she existed. Once.
It'd mean nothing to Nier. He knows that. But he walks to the console.]
Over here. These were made 22 years ago.
[He presses the button, to show a heavily pregnant woman with long brown hair, and a middle-aged man in a white coat. The arrangement of items in the shack is the same, but they're cleaner. Brighter. More vivid, without their coverings of dust.
They're talking.
He wraps his arms around himself, to stop himself from shivering. And in the dim light of the monitor, he's aware he can see his breath in front of his face.
And.]
...What makes you say that?
[He was curious.]
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nier crouches before the console to get a better look: it's a mass of metal and wiring that makes next to no sense to him, but it clearly matters to cloud. that alone warrants a more thorough inspection. he rises back to his feet, offering cloud a nod of the head. ]
Got it. I think.
[ the screen flickers to life. nier's eyes narrow in response to the sudden flood of light — it's bright and artificial, bleaching everything that stands before it. there's a woman. she's with child.
she's happy.
but cloud is retreating into himself, and somehow, the air is stiller than ever. tense with anticipation — waiting. nier steps next to him, his feet barely brushing against his. he doesn't reach out to touch him, but his wrist does graze against his. ]
There are a lot of people I'm never going to see again.
[ he watches the woman, and the way her lover takes her hands into his, cherishing a moment that's been lost to time. ]
And a lot of people who will never see me again. But I remember them. I'm who I am because of them. And that's proof that they mattered in this world, isn't it?
[ the couple grows tenser. their days are numbered: they're afraid of something, desperately afraid. ]
Every existence matters to another person. That's why they left these behind. So long as that life matters...as long what they did matters—
[ they've given birth to a young girl. she's small and fragile, but full of life. they remark that she looks just like her mother. he would agree. ]
They'll be okay.
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But... That's with most people. Not this person. There's nothing about the other that's even marginally intrusive. He's quiet, he's collected. And even if by saying, and repeating, that the figures on the screen would be all right, he's not stupid. He's just wrong. Correcting him though, informing him that one died on screen further on, one died at a train station in a slum...
...That the baby was murdered 22 years later, in attempt to save this dying world. It's- It's too much of a story. He'd have to explain how he knew. Then he'd see the same reproach in his eyes, wouldn't he?
Of course he would. Nier was a decent person. He's sure of it. His part in what happened wasn't anything close to decent. So, instead of answering he continues to listen, gaze turning from the screen's depiction of scenes, figures he'd watched over and over again, conversations burned into his memory simply through repitition, to the side of the other man's face as he watches it.
What he says isn't wrong. He doesn't know anything, this man. No details. He's not travelled with them. He didn't know Aerith. But he's right. He can't find any reason, any technicality, that would make his statement incorrect.]
...
[He can't find anything to say. Aside from...]
You're right. But her life was hers, too. And the person who stopped her from living it for herself as well as others- he's got to be taken out.
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his jaw tenses, and his shoulders are stiff, but they eventually lower. every world was the same, wasn’t it? a silence hangs in the air. it’s the two of them, and a family that was now long gone.
when cloud speaks, he meets his gaze. the light of the screen is reflected in his eyes. he recognizes those words well. they’re some of the most familiar he’s heard by far. ]
I’ll go with you.
[ it’s sudden, but his voice doesn’t waver in the slightest. the bags that mark his face are heavy — his features are worn down to hell and back, but they’re earnest.
this was for revenge. he knows. like kainé. like gideon. like himself. it was a relentless cycle: to have something taken from you, and to take. a poison that he hasn’t rid himself of. ]
If that’s what you want to do...for her, and yourself, I want to help.
[ he wonders how many times he’s watched these videos. ]
We’re friends, after all.
just saw my html fail. welp, sorry!
But... it wouldn't be productive to question why. Nor to dissuade him. He's capable, Cloud knows that. He means what he says, always. He knows that, too. But... there's something he needs to know.]
I have to tell you- who we're going after is dangerous. Really dangerous. He's... [Not an Ancient. He knows that now. But.] He's powerful. You're not weak. But he's unlike anything else.
[Can he? Can he just take someone along, and risk losing them, too?]
...I need you to know that.
[Because yeah, they're friends.]
don’t even worry about it!
I’ve killed a lot of people.
[ it’s a truth he can’t escape from. not after what he’s done. ]
Hundreds. More than that.
[ his other hand shifts to palm at his greatsword. the aged metal is cool underneath his fingertips, but he pulls away to set them onto cloud’s shoulder. ]
I’m not afraid of anything. [ there’s isn’t a smile, or much of anything as he says that. maybe it’s the emptiness in his voice that makes it all the more believable. ] You don’t need to be afraid for me. I want to help you.
thank you ♥
Instead, it makes him think. How many people had he killed now? A lot, that's for sure. He'd never counted- never saw the lives of anyone trying to kill him as worth counting. He doubted he'd retain a tangible number even if he did. Still, it's nothing like that. He's certain.]
You should be afraid. [He states, solemnly. Again, not out of disbelief. More contemplation. What... exactly had happened to him to make him lose that?] The man we're after is different. But...
[A small, murmured 'thanks' should've went there. Instead, the hand at his shoulder makes him pause, makes the word stick in his throat. It's gloved, of course, but it's so warm compared to him. It makes him aware of how cold it is- the comparison in their body temperature knocking him out of his acceptance of feeling half frozen. But as for the thanks, he'll try again. There's a slight delay, but it comes out. Smally. Along with something else-]
When the weather clears, we'll cross the mountain.
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[ how to feel something like fear — how to feel anything. he states it bluntly. there’s nothing left to lose. humanity has already shown its worst to him. he wasn’t a human being. but the truth is, he was never meant to be.
so he looks at him, features static, frozen into something tired and unfeeling. ]
I don’t care who he is...or what you did. All I know is that I want to help you.
[ his hand slowly maneuvers down along his arm. instead, his fingers gently wrap around his wrist. he’s cold. he can feel his pulse. it slices through the warmth of his own hands. the “thanks” is acknowledged, but never responded to.
there was nowhere else for him to go. this doesn’t warrant any gratitude. ]
You’re cold. Do you think you could get closer to me?
[ it’s asked brazenly, without any shame in the world. ]
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That's something that sticks out most of all in a series of statements of things that stick out- both the fact that he wasn't sticking on false bravado. It was a matter simply that he couldn't feel scared, or the fact he was going along with all of this simply because he wanted to. People just didn't do that. Everyone with them had personal reasons for going after Sephiroth, going after the Shinra- and they'd been betrayed once already by someone with a flimsy reason for coming along.
But...
There's something in Nier's manner which indicates truth. He's... not the best at judging people. He knows that's not exactly one of his strong points. But he wants to believe him. And that's surprising all in itself.]
...Yeah.
[Nier's touch against his arms- strangely scrawny and muscled- doesn't make him flinch. He should have- with anyone else he would have- but the other man's clearly not making a big deal of it. Nor should he. That, and he's that taken aback by the other points in the statement, still thinking on each one, he's unguarded. So he steps closer, their size difference quite... apparent. He turns his head, cheek touching the roughened, hand-sewn leather and fabric of the other's travelling clothes.
Needless to say, it's warm. And.]
Should go back to the others soon.
[Can't have them worrying about anything else.]
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[ a hand travels to cloud’s forearm again. the musculature is cool underneath the gloved pads of his fingers, but there’s a softness there that makes him think it wouldn’t be especially difficult to snap with his own two hands.
all the more reason to make sure someone else doesn’t.
he trails down towards cloud’s own fingers and guides his hand into his, a thumb sweeping against his skin. ]
It’s okay if you want to.
[ he doesn’t elaborate on what. nier speaks gently, and his voice is honeyed with affection. always searching for a reason to take care of someone or to destroy: it’s not as though he had a purpose beyond either.
when cloud’s cheek settles near his shoulder, he inches closer, granting him the space in the crook of his neck. ]
I’ll tell them we went hunting.
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...He smells good. Not of any artificial scent though. More like outside- crisp, clean and vaguely of the forests just south of the village- and he's warm, really warm, so the fact the thick fur (wolf? It doesn't feel like rabbit, and while its kind of bristly, its not bristly enough to be monster hair.) at the nape of his neck kind of tickles his face is something that he's more than prepared to live with. His other arm moves- tentatively at first- following raised stitching that perhaps indicates some repair to this armour once- brushing underneath the cold chains at his back to latch onto the space between his shoulder blades, gripping what he can.
This... is weak. He knows it. He can hear Barret in his head now- questioning if he'd gone soft. Repeating, again, the only decent analogy he'd ever made- about not being able to get off a train until it reached a destination- and telling him to toughen up. He can also imagine more reserved confusion. Vincent, perhaps, coldly questioning why he was doing that when there was adequate heating at the inn.
Normally, it'd be enough to make him pull back. His front is a one that's formed of far more than just what people think, after all, but this...? Warmth isn't the only reason he's here. It's peaceful, quiet. There's no pressure, no desire to rush to the next place before anyone has time to think, to dwell upon what happened at the City of the Ancients. Nothing unexplainable pulling him on, either. No reminders of what happened.
Especially when the screen finally splutters out unceremoniously as the recording ends. When it does, he speaks, breath warm against the other man's neck. He's almost entirely stopped shivering now.]
What happens when we find who you were travelling with?
[Nier's not exactly mentioned anything about other people. (and certainly nothing about sassy floating books) but... he can't have been alone, right? Someone like this has to have people that care about him.
He almost doesn't want to ask, in case it changes his mind. Or if he confirms he'll move on.
When... did he get so clingy?]
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he and cloud are the same age, aren't they? and yet, somehow, he feels faraway. like something to be hovered over and delicately preserved. it's purity: something nier wouldn't know again.
cloud reaches for him first. he watches, shifting in place the slightest bit to ensure that he doesn't get caught in the iron of his armor. he can feel the warmth of his breath beating down against what little is exposed of his neck. his hands move to settle onto his back, fingers rubbing into the fabric of his uniform, and just like that, they wind around him and pull him into an embrace. it isn't something he thinks about — his arms move of their own accord, and he leans into him, allowing his cheek to press against his forehead.
the violent static that sounds from the television goes unnoticed. it's selfish, and disrespectful to the people who lived in this house, but he's focused on the warmth being shared between the two living bodies at the center of this room.
the question that comes next washes over him, leaving him cold and aching for something, but for what, he doesn't know. he couldn't think of any of them. of the people who loved him, and laid down their lives for him — of the people who he loved, but would never know. of kaine. of yonah.
so he tells him the truth. ]
We won't.
[ he's entirely still. ]
So let me do this with you.
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[The others wouldn't like it. There's so many questions they'd ask- who Nier was, where he'd come from, and the fact that he doesn't have some story of how the Shinra'd screwed him over like the rest of them would be detrimental. Cait Sith's betrayal, even if he'd adjusted his course as the situation had got more serious to spy on the Shinra as well, would make them fearful. Aerith's death could make them more unreasonable. It'd make the whole thing seem like a replacement. It's neither of those things, but it'd seem so much like it. That's the worst thing about it.
But he can weather it. He can handle it, too. He knows that as the de facto leader of whatever the hell they even were, he can keep everyone focused on what's important- finding Sephiroth. And it's not like they don't need the help. That's the only thing to focus on. They need the help. And as for him, he needed it. Far more than the others- simply for the fact that the man he's currently clinging to doesn't understand- doesn't know his part in the misfortunes that'd come to them. He doesn't know, so he doesn't judge.
It's hardly as if the others are trying to judge- but they saw it. Just as he saw it. They saw him raise his sword over Aerith's head as she prayed. They saw it.
And the lack of judgement, while he's still struggling with guilt, confusion, the fear of not knowing what exactly's wrong with him- it's what he needs. It's what he's clinging to now, just as tightly as he clings to Nier's body. He's clinging to both, as if Nier's the only thing keeping him from drowning. With both hands now- since the one that held his hand has moved around his torso, his moves in the same manner.]
Just, if something happens, and it makes you not want to continue, don't feel you have to. That's all.
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[ it's said with certainty. he knows well he won't want to stop. he never has. his fingers splay against cloud's back, offering a reassuring pat. it's somewhat roguish in nature, but nothing uncharacteristic of him.
it didn't matter who he was, or what he wanted, or what he was capable of. he liked the person he held in this moment. that alone was enough to give him purpose. ]
I'm not leaving, though. I already made my decision.
[ he pulls his head back to drink in the sight of his face from this angle — something in his chest warms. ]
I like being around you. [ a smile, very subtle and small, plays along his lips. it's been so long since that's last happened — it's laughable, truly. he says these things easily, and without humility. nier tries to meet what little there is of cloud's gaze, and doesn't pull away — not yet. he'll leave that to him.
simply, he states: ]
So even if it's hard, I won't mind.
[ a moment passes before he speaks again. ]
You're really warm now. [ warmer than he is, he means to say. there's a lilt in his voice like he's impressed. ]
no subject
[Normally he'd press. He'd clarify, too. That if anything changes, he's welcome to go. Because things did change. So many things had changed since they'd left Midgar, for instance, after the Temple of the Ancients, he would have left if it wasn't for the fact he needed to find Aerith. Now? He would leave. He should leave- but he needs to pay Sephiroth back for what he did.
But that's difficult to think on. Especially when Nier turns his head. He finds his eyes- faintly glowing now the light from the monitor was extinguished- meeting Nier's dead on. His statement- blunt as ever, a personality trait that made talking to him preferable, actually- makes his eyes drop, to turn toward the ground. Faint colour graces his cheek- just for a second or two- and he finds his fingers tightening in the other's padded armour.
He... shouldn't be feeling this. It's not the time. Or the place. It's similar- too similar to a longstanding problem of his. The problem that the slightest bit of kindness caused him to feel, to think things that weren't true. A problem that started when, as a child, he found himself spending hours staring into his neighbour's window. A problem that culminated with her falling down a mountainside. A problem that, when he was older, ended with mud, rain, blood, and screaming.
The details on the second instance are fuzzy. He's unsure if it even happened. But he remembers the feeling. Like his soul had literally been wrenched from his body. So he'd adjusted. He'd covered it with sarcasm, feigned disinterest. Even scorn.
He... wasn't so weak any more.
But it's a lie. So when Nier mentions his temperature, he moves his gaze back.]
...Yeah. Thanks. For that.
[He should let go. He needs to let go.]
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[ he doesn't let go, not yet. it's bizarre — the idea of being touched drove him mad for years. slowly, he settled into his skin, or maybe it simply hadn't mattered when he saw a dear friend keeled over, crying out of fear of being rejected. or when he hold a foul mouthed woman close as her village came apart at his command.
but the feeling of it is nice. no bones or flesh crumbling underneath the soles of feet. just the weathered, but soft skin of a vulnerable friend against his. it makes him feel something else too — something that flutters like the wings of a butterfly.
of course, any blush he sees goes entirely unnoticed. ]
We're friends, so— [ he fights the urge to decline his head to get another glance at his face. ] You can come to me for anything. Doesn't matter what.
[ his smile dims with what can only be described as a quiet kind of sorrow — but it's genuine, and warm no less. ]
There's a lot I don't know about you. But to me, you're Cloud. I don't care what happens.
[ a beat. ]
That's all. Okay?
[ ... ]
I guess the kids have nothing to worry about.
no subject
[The kids that'd seen him though. That would've been a reminder to be a little more careful with where he went, to check if he was being tailed. But... it's not. No-one knows this village better than its inhabitants, and ...honestly, without what they'd said to Nier, this wouldn't be happening. They wouldn't have spoken, he wouldn't have been coming with them, and (for the moment) just as importantly, they wouldn't be... doing this.
This.
He needs to back up. His hands loosen, instinctively as , of course, he's going to try and create some distance. He needs to, even if he doesn't want to. Perhaps his hesitation is proof of that. He's usually brisk with everything he does. Quick to retreat from contact especially.
But now? He's lingering a little. But he gets there. With a long inhale, he untangles himself from the other's armour and makes his way to a window, moving back ruined, aged and dusty fabric coverings and using his halfglove to wipe off years and years worth of accumulated grime as well as more recent condensation on the inside of the panel. Outside is... grey. The snowstorm must've hit. The building's secure enough, but even the lights of (close) buildings are a struggle to make out.]
As soon as this clears, we need to get going. We've wasted enough time.
no subject
[ the warmth that once lingered is quickly lost to the air, and nier takes a step forward, peering through the window with hard eyes. he’s a few inches away from cloud, and oddly enough, it’s as though there’s a world’s worth of distance between them now — after that. the wind whistles and rattles against the thin walls of the shack, and a frenzied blur of white is reflected in his eyes. ]
...It’s pretty.
[ rain either. the planet he was from was on the verge of death, and hadn’t known the wonders of life in a long while. not the way the humans before them had. suddenly, a glance is thrown in cloud’s direction, and he wordlessly peels off one arm warmer...and then the next. it leaves his forearms exposed, giving way to musculature that rarely saw the light of day.
he gestures them towards cloud. ]
We might be here for awhile. Your clothes aren’t fit for the winter.
no subject
[He's regretting moving, to be honest. He can feel his body temperature dropping already, and just looking outside is making him cold. That and...
No. He needs to stop thinking about the fact that little bit on contact felt good. How long had it been since he'd touched a
liveperson?]...But. Yeah. It's pretty.
[He stares out of the window once more, just a fleeting glance. He's got too much sense to attempt to make it make to the inn though. It's only a short distance, but they can't see. They could go in any direction- to the inn, or right over the edge of the cliff the little town built around the inn perches on.
Nier's instincts are good- staying here would be best.
But when he turns, he's surprised to see bare arms, strong arms, with a series of scars littering the elbow upward in plain sight. Some of them are glancing- it seems. Telltale marks of any swordsman. But some are deep- cruel. As if something not human inflicted them. The sign of anyone that made a living doing things others didn't want to do.
But one thing surprises him- the heavy, padded arm warmers being waved at him.]
I'm all right. [If he says he is, he'll be that way. He's... used to not taking care of himself. So he can keep saying it. That'll be enough.] You need them, too.
[He rehangs the fabric, before making his way to him. He won't say it, but in his eyes is a question. Maybe. He wants to ask about body heat again. Maybe.]
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...They’ve been kind. I want to repay the favor one day.
[ the cold is a danger in of itself. but to have frozen water be pelted at you year round...he couldn’t begin to wrap his mind around the very prospect. still, the blankets of pure white were soothing to look at. they were nothing like molted, earthy tones he bore witness to before.
if it weren’t for cloud, he would have left already. the risk was nothing to fear — but there’s someone else he needs to take care of, now. so when cloud draws closer with the intention of returning his arm warmers, he accepts them — but they’re folded and stuffed back into his pouch instead of being worn proper, and his fingers promptly move to wind around his wrist.
his grip is loose enough that cloud can pull away of his own volition, but rigid enough that what he wants is clear. ]
Then stay close to me.
[ it’s a suggestion more than it is an order. but he’s righteous, and he always has been. the palm of his hand slides into his in a single motion, and this time the bare skin of his forearm sweeps against cloud’s. ]
I can’t just let you freeze here.
no subject
[It's an idea though. A good one and a thoughtful one as well. There are places worse off, but Nier's right. This place had been kind to him, and it was his prerogative to pay it back.
There's also some chocobo tracks southeast too, so perhaps they could make extra money doing that as well as seeing to their needs by raising other animals. That is, if they could keep the monsters away. He seems to consider Nier's statement, nodding his head slightly in agreement.
When Nier's fingers move around his wrist, he keeps his gaze levelled at his eyes, but silently steps forward. Again, he's unsure. Something in him tells him not to get close- not to get attached. But what he wants drowns out any form of self-defence his brain throws out at him. It rages, silently, in his head, but he swallows it, pressing the (relative) warmth of the inside of his wrist- sinew and tendon, vein and artery, against Nier's own. And he tilts his head upward, again, breathing warm air against the other's jerkin.
And his response is mumbled.]
Thanks.
[And.]
Where you're from- does it snow?
no subject
[ the expression on his face is one of vague confusion, akin to that of a dumb dog’s — tourist...tourist...what did that mean again? weiss would be particularly useful right now, he realizes. ]
It’s Shinra who’s causing these problems, isn’t it? Then they need to be eliminated.
[ a simple minded approach: there isn’t an ounce of hesitation in his voice. It’s foolish of a man who destroyed one world to consider the wellbeing of another, but hadn’t it been men and women just like these who brought his world to ruin?
he thinks that maybe, just maybe, he would like a future better than his own for his friend.
pulse against pulse, the warmth slowly creeps back into his system. not all of it is the byproduct of the little friction there is between them now. nier minimizes the distance by docking his hip right next to his, and his free hand motions towards his shoulder only to bring him closer. the heat of his skin underneath the palm of his hand is fleeting, and he swallows down the urge to pursue it. ]
It doesn’t. No rain, either. But I think—I think I saw it once...
[ his eyes gaze past cloud and through the window. they’re searching for something that isn’t there. ]
Or maybe, that wasn’t... [ the sight of a building, grey and jutting towards the sky, clips through his mind. there’s snow. it’s everywhere. people are screaming. he pauses, lips parting. ] That wasn’t...I’m not—
[ his voice lowers an octave, the floodgates of rage having opened at the memory of someone who shouldn’t exist. someone who existed before him. who was him. who took everything from him.
...and he yanks his hand away. nier slowly winks back into reality. the way his stomach twists with guilt is unbearable. ]
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just...
[ there is no explaining. all he can do is look at him as his features soften into a pathetic, remorseful frown. ]
I remembered something. Wasn’t your fault.
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[Nier's confusion at the word is kind of surprising. Kind of. But in a sense, it's not. There's people from all kinds of towns which are practically outposts of absolutely nowhere- even more remote then Nibelheim or Gongaga. It's easy to think that Nier could simply be from one of those places.]
This happened thousands of years ago. But the Shinra are drilling into the ground and sucking up the Lifestream. Their reactors convert it into mako energy, which powers lighting, things like that monitor, other machinery too. People pay for it because it gives them an easier life. There's no fires to keep lit, No need to make lanterns. You push a button and it's there.
[But.]
What they're doing is killing the planet, slowly. The Lifestreams like blood. When it's extracted and used- the planet can't make more.
[Well. 'Making more.' That's another thing entirely. Barret would continue. He'd say that the planet was screaming, that it was weak already, but he... doesn't have the same penchant for drama the older man has. So, he leaves it there. He's got enough information to get it.]
We're after the Shinra. But we're after Sephiroth, as priority. He's actin' on his own, and he's called something that's going to fall down from the sky, and create a bigger wound than that crater. Something that'll kill the planet. He's going to be there when it hits, he plans to absorb all of the Lifestream the planet'll send to repair the wound. All it has. Then, he's going to ride whatever's left of this planet to the next.
[And it's his fault. But he's too ashamed to mention it.]
...They're both dangers. But he's the bigger one, for the time being. When he's taken out, we're going after the Shinra.
[When Nier fumbles with his words, he would tilt his head to follow his line of vision, but his body language changes. His voice had lowered, his body had tensed to be harder, and he can feel his heart pounding even in his wrist.
He's... usually the one like this. He doesn't react as others would- as they have- to him by retreating or staring. Or expressing fear. Instead, he moves closer again, slipping his shoulders under the arm that'd lifted- brushing his hand against the other's palm once more, closing his fingers, lightly, other his cold hand.
He doesn't need to say anything. Because, at least with him, being expected to explain the explosion of pain between his eye sockets, pain in his heart, spreading from the core of his body outwards, to the point he'd lose his breath and crumple was always just as bad as reexperiencing whatever'd bored out of his brain. So...
He says what he wished would've been said to him on any of the times he'd been like this.]
...It's all right.
[And.]
You're not there any longer. C'mon.
[He's... a strangely formed thing, for sure. Not like Nier knew, but it came from not exactly being afforded a chance to grow properly from being in a laboratory from 16-20.
His height is meagre, his body is thin- almost painfully so- hips and shoulders narrow enough to suggest he was much younger than he was. But oddly, he's got rows of tightly wrought, lean muscle on his arms, his chest, and his legs. He's lean, but he's strong. Unnaturally so, actually- but he doesn't use that strength to give him a slight pull. But it's still more than he should have had.
If Nier allows, he'll guide him, carefully, to the corner of the room. And he'll carefully ease him down, curling up next to him.]
Take as long as you need. Breathe. We've got time.
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