I'm going to try.

wow rude as fuck

At first, she thinks it’s just her mind playing tricks on her. But when Mara dares to focus on the figure, the weapon on their back is undoubtedly nothing but one thing.

Angeal’s —no, Zack’s— Buster Sword.

The former SOLDIER gets to her feet and storms after the male, a snarl already twisting her features.

“Hey!“ she barks, the authority in her voice clear even if she gave up her rank years ago. The rage is blinding, sickening, and she doesn’t even realize when her hand grips the hilt of Thorn.

The man, the SOLDIER, can’t remember why he’s here. He’d rather be anywhere but here, but he had wanted to come, so badly. 

He’s rifling through a few gil notes from the last slaughter job when she yells. No one’s dared approach him; no one likes SOLDIER. The hairs on his arms itch and he fiddles with the bracer on his wrist to keep from scratching, head lolling backward on his shoulder to stare.

The phrase runs across his brain over and over like an automated news headline. Of course this sweet looking child is looking for upper-tier murder magic. Of course. That’s the way of the world, innit? 

He snorts because it’s really the only reaction he can get away with; he thinks he’d rather burst into tears, but he’s not the crying type of man. Cloud hooks his thumbs in the belt-loops of his pants and rocks on the balls of his feet, taking a breath to try and dispel the aching hysteria bubbling up around his sternum.  

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the smart answer would be to deny he ever even said anything, but cloud is not a smart man, and the heat on his face isn’t helping with the whole thinking properly thing. 

She’s already pushing the mans arms out of the way so she can rest her body against him, teeth sinking into the food. She hums a thank you before reaching for a fry.

Well, okay––He’d think about it. It would depend on how much gil they were talkin’. 

The woman is cold, and whether that’s from her own body temperature or from all the gore she’s sporting like a new fashion statement, he wouldn’t be able to tell. He pushes the plate toward a chair, giving her a pointed sideways look. She’s too close, his hair brushing against her cheek, hers piling against his neck. Everything sends shivers roiling up his spine.

“M’waitin’ on a shipment to roll in from Junon, then I’m headed out toward the wastes.” 

Cloud doesn’t like to think things through, and so his offer is hasty and spontaneous: 

                                    ʜᴇ ᴜsᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴀʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴅɴ   -                     ᴛʜᴀᴛ sᴛᴏᴏᴅ ғᴏʀ DEADLY NIGHTSHADE                       ’ᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ɪ ᴡᴀs ғɪʟʟᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘᴏɪsᴏɴ ;;                                   ʙʟᴇssᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛʏ & ʀᴀɢᴇ

                                                   “We are YOUNG                                                 But we have h e a r t !

           BORN IN THIS WORLD AS IT ALL FALLS APART!”