[ . M A K O . ]

Blind Date (Cid Highwind muse)

It was a most beautiful evening; the stars were twinkling above, the evening had become more quiet, and many of the rides were free after midnight. It was the perfect couples night. And much to Vincent's chagrin, he had been selected for a blind date, courtesy of Dio. But he had been promised it would only be for one night and that he didn't want to disappoint the other selectee. There was only one caveat-- Vincent wasn't allowed to wear his cape. Was told it looked too intimidating and hiding his face wasn't appropriate for a date. Vincent allowed the removal of his cloak, but stubbornly refused to part with his gauntlet, declining to give a reason other than a threatening glare. The time arrived, and Vincent sat alone in a dining hall next to a large open window. It was tucked in a corner, candles lit, a white cloth draped over the table, and a couple of wine glasses placed at the center. One was already filled with wine, its neck gripped by slender leather-covered fingers. With his legs crossed, Vincent trained his eyes to the outside, his mind wandering to someplace dark; however, he was ever keen to the footsteps of one approaching.

Unsure whether the waiter's quiet questions were meant to be polite or pushy or both, Cid managed a short, "Uh..." before a second server appeared. The unasked-for appetizers - maybe complimentary for this place? he didn't know - helped make up his mind. "Prob'ly just a dessert later, yeah. Thanks."

He let out a quiet sigh once the waiters were gone. Cid didn't put any blame on them, it just reminded him the attentiveness that seemed expected of fancy restaurant staff could be a mite overwhelming. Even so, he did muster another 'thanks' when they were each left drinks before a second prompt departure. Cid turned his curious stare onto the unexpected dumplings in front of them. Even better than not having ten different pieces of silverware to remember, they seemed to be finger food. Cid wasn't enough of a foodie type to guess at seasonings; he only knew they smelled delicious.

Just as he glanced up to check what Vincent thought of them, blue eyes widened at the offer of a dipped dumpling between slim, pretty, deceptively strong fingers. Cid tried to cover for his resurfaced blush with another light laugh. "Alright, I'll be yer taste-tester. Oop, shoot..." He cupped a hand below the dumpling before a drop of sauce could reach the tablecloth. Fingertips brushed Vincent's palm, then lingered while Cid leaned in to take the other's offering in one bite, gaze lowered.

Fortunately, they weren't too hot, so he could taste everything inside. His expression lit up in pleased surprise, echoed by the sound that escaped his throat while his hand belatedly fell away. "Prick my ass 'n call me a cactuar, that's better than I thought. Here." Cid took up a dumpling in return, dipping it into the golden sauce before holding it out to Vincent with a grin. "Wanna try? Got some good spices in there, but nothin' that'll make ya sweat."

A light brush of his fingers was enough to divert Vincent's attention for a mere second, his eyes blinking in response to what he felt. For a man who had resisted human contact for years on end, it felt quite foreign, but not in a negative way. Brief, but it was somewhat pleasant, even of Cid's fingers were quite rough.

Oh well. Seeing and hearing that Vincent enjoyed it was plenty, in its own way. If it'd been a while since the other man last had food like this, there was even more reason to share. For now, Cid licked the drip of sauce from his palm before wiping the latter on his napkin, his grin slanting after Vincent's remark about the seasoning. "Oh yeah? Kind of a spice hound, are ya? Think you'd love my mama's winter stew, then."

He wasn't sure whether he wanted more for his mothers to meet Vincent, or to make the stew himself. Maybe a bit of both.

Speaking of stew, before Cid could mull long on whether to mention either option, a few waitstaff returned with the main course of their dinner. Their attentiveness was tiptoeing toward too much for what he was used to; he managed a somewhat awkward "sure, thank ya kindly" before they mercifully departed again.

He'd only been looking over the basket of bread for a moment or two before Vincent was doling out a hearty portion of the stew. Cid guessed it was out of hunger, until the bowl was offered to him instead. "Oh; didn't hafta do that, thanks." His gratitude came easier and with more obvious sincerity than it had to the waiters.

Cid couldn't proper recall the last time he'd had a stopover long enough for relaxation, especially not since meeting Aerith and the whole merry band of misfits. But now here they were in Costa del Sol, probably the world's hottest vacation destination, with free time on their hands. The others were just as eager to take advantage, splitting off in pairs or trios until Cid was left standing near the docks with only Vincent. Not company he much minded, truth be told, though a place like this didn't seem the other man's speed.

Still, Cid wanted to enjoy as much as possible while they were here. And besides, from what he'd seen, Vincent could use some loosening up.

His own decision on leading Vincent into a bookstore was an easy distraction from his thoughts. Even when the other man teased him again. Cid snorted, his smirk hewing closer to a grin; he kept his voice a bit quieter than usual. "Hey now, ya think I upkeep 'n pilot the Tiny Bronco by wishin' about it? Course I read."

Other than that light protest, however, he let Vincent mull on the question. In the meantime, Cid's gaze roamed over the shelves to either side of them. Admittedly, he didn't recognize any authors, but going by the titles he wasn't sure if this section was really his bag. Vincent's answer pulled his attention back to the gunslinger. Yeah, Cid could've guessed at least a couple of those genres, if he'd had to; more fun to hear about it from the man himself though. What brought him up short was the mention of romance and horror stories being forbidden. Who in the goddamn was out here forbidding stuff like that, and why? More unknown, unnamed people on Cid's 'fight them if I ever meet them' list.

All before what?

Cid was about to ask when he followed Vincent's stare to one shelf. 'Loveless'? The hell was that? Looked old, by the cover; maybe something from back before Vincent was hidden away in that mansion? Sure sounded like it, considering the other's softspoken and cryptic remarks. He was half convinced Vincent would pull it from the shelf, and his head tilted a bit when that was proven wrong. Apparently he'd overestimated how much nostalgia the guy had. While Vincent moved on to another shelf, Cid stared at the 'Loveless' book a moment longer - curious, but not enough to act on it, moving on as well with a shrug. Sounded like the damn thing was forever unfinished anyhow.

In the midst of reading through the inside-page summary of a fantastical drama, Cid glanced up. "Me? Well, I like a good technical book, 'specially if they manage not t'be dry as dust. Think with fiction, I go fer mysteries too. Plus a lotta adventures, that kinda speculative type stuff. Put folk in space, talk some science, 'n I'm guaranteed to read it," he explained with a soft chuckle.

[Roleplay Starter] Andrea Rhodea + Vincent Valentine

RP Partner: @fromthe7thsidelines

He did wonder, though, whether that safety might be difficult to find given the teen girl's volume. Nonetheless, Andrea nodded to her shocked question. He saw no reason to try and keep Vincent's presence a secret after she'd stated it so plainly. By the looks shared among the other young women, there was no recognition beyond realization of just who was shut in Corneo's bedroom.

Though Andrea's brow furrowed a bit upon hearing there might still be one or two women held elsewhere - from a girl who had to be the youngest in the room, even moreso than the boisterous teen - he kept his focus. Some of his expression relaxed into a nonplussed look, when said teen attempted to warn and threaten him. "Save that energy for helping Vincent, if you please." Andrea glanced to his other employee next. "Rena, do you still remember the service routes?"

Rena paused for half a breath. "It's been a while since my cleaning job" - she nodded - "but yeah, I do."

"Good. Lead everyone out the closest service exit; Dio's office is just north of here, tell them I sent you. Guards are only at the main entrances, and the hall outside is empty." He briefly scanned over the room again, gaze alighting on a young blonde in a suit. "You, miss. You're also familiar with fighting, correct? Please keep guard over the others until everyone's safe."

Andrea then looked to the teen girl again. "You and I are going to give Vincent some much-needed backup." He peeked out of the door first, just to make sure. Seeing and hearing no one, Andrea nodded to the girls before stepping out. The rich carpet on the floor helped muffle their steps. He made a beeline for Corneo's bedroom while the other women headed for a side door, trying to be as quiet as possible. Good luck. Another glance, to make sure the teen was with him, as Andrea approached the shut bedroom. Damnably good soundproofing - Dio didn't scrimp, after all - meant he couldn't hear anything beyond.

Corneo only grinned, more akin to a leer, when this shy beauty tugged away from him. Oh, the walls to be broken down... He almost squirmed with anticipation. And just as he drew breath for a reassurance, of sorts, one gloved finger pressed to his mouth. What a smile that was! Maybe she wasn't as shy as she seemed, when doors were shut. So, he'd have to find a different weak point to press on.

He nearly dropped the camera remote as he watched her. Gripping it tighter instead, Corneo pressed the shutter button several more times while she stood and turned to face him. Another click when lace was caught between teeth and slowly, so slowly he wanted to tear it, the glove came off. Free hand catching the tossed glove, he lifted it to his lips and nose. He couldn't look away, drawn in by those strange eyes. Corneo let the soft fabric fall, and even set aside the remote for now, just to get his hands on one heeled foot and slender ankle. More and more of the latter was exposed as silk and lace retreated; what might she do if he let his impatience take over, if he reached right for her hips? Ah, but then, the thought of dragging his tongue up her calf... that might garner him some delightful disgust.

Andrea didn't knock, but instead opened the door abruptly to let the teen girl in. He'd considered staying outside, but seeing her and the even younger girl in that holding room had incensed him. There were no hidden chambers or traps, and he'd had years of training at Jules' gym. So, he stepped inside as well, grey eyes frigid upon Corneo despite his amicable tone directed at Vincent. "Forgive me for the delay, dear Vincent. I've brought backup as an apology. Your other friend is safe as well, though likely irritated she can't be here in person."

Corneo froze, and squawked, "Rhodea?! What are you doing here, I thought I was rid of you for a while." His lip curled. "Don't you have Dio's bed to warm?"

Blind Date (Cid Highwind muse)

It was a most beautiful evening; the stars were twinkling above, the evening had become more quiet, and many of the rides were free after midnight. It was the perfect couples night. And much to Vincent's chagrin, he had been selected for a blind date, courtesy of Dio. But he had been promised it would only be for one night and that he didn't want to disappoint the other selectee. There was only one caveat-- Vincent wasn't allowed to wear his cape. Was told it looked too intimidating and hiding his face wasn't appropriate for a date. Vincent allowed the removal of his cloak, but stubbornly refused to part with his gauntlet, declining to give a reason other than a threatening glare. The time arrived, and Vincent sat alone in a dining hall next to a large open window. It was tucked in a corner, candles lit, a white cloth draped over the table, and a couple of wine glasses placed at the center. One was already filled with wine, its neck gripped by slender leather-covered fingers. With his legs crossed, Vincent trained his eyes to the outside, his mind wandering to someplace dark; however, he was ever keen to the footsteps of one approaching.

Unsure whether the waiter's quiet questions were meant to be polite or pushy or both, Cid managed a short, "Uh..." before a second server appeared. The unasked-for appetizers - maybe complimentary for this place? he didn't know - helped make up his mind. "Prob'ly just a dessert later, yeah. Thanks."

He let out a quiet sigh once the waiters were gone. Cid didn't put any blame on them, it just reminded him the attentiveness that seemed expected of fancy restaurant staff could be a mite overwhelming. Even so, he did muster another 'thanks' when they were each left drinks before a second prompt departure. Cid turned his curious stare onto the unexpected dumplings in front of them. Even better than not having ten different pieces of silverware to remember, they seemed to be finger food. Cid wasn't enough of a foodie type to guess at seasonings; he only knew they smelled delicious.

Just as he glanced up to check what Vincent thought of them, blue eyes widened at the offer of a dipped dumpling between slim, pretty, deceptively strong fingers. Cid tried to cover for his resurfaced blush with another light laugh. "Alright, I'll be yer taste-tester. Oop, shoot..." He cupped a hand below the dumpling before a drop of sauce could reach the tablecloth. Fingertips brushed Vincent's palm, then lingered while Cid leaned in to take the other's offering in one bite, gaze lowered.

Fortunately, they weren't too hot, so he could taste everything inside. His expression lit up in pleased surprise, echoed by the sound that escaped his throat while his hand belatedly fell away. "Prick my ass 'n call me a cactuar, that's better than I thought. Here." Cid took up a dumpling in return, dipping it into the golden sauce before holding it out to Vincent with a grin. "Wanna try? Got some good spices in there, but nothin' that'll make ya sweat."

Cid couldn't proper recall the last time he'd had a stopover long enough for relaxation, especially not since meeting Aerith and the whole merry band of misfits. But now here they were in Costa del Sol, probably the world's hottest vacation destination, with free time on their hands. The others were just as eager to take advantage, splitting off in pairs or trios until Cid was left standing near the docks with only Vincent. Not company he much minded, truth be told, though a place like this didn't seem the other man's speed.

Still, Cid wanted to enjoy as much as possible while they were here. And besides, from what he'd seen, Vincent could use some loosening up.

He'd crossed his arms casually at first, but his hands then dropped to his sides when the mayor's demeanor stuttered and shifted. Cid cast a more suspicious glance between the man and the necklace; should Vincent be holding it? Sure, the gunslinger didn't seem affected like the mayor was, but still... Adjusting his goggles a bit after Vincent turned to him, Cid hummed, "Guess so. Can't figure what coulda spooked him like that, though." He watched Vincent tuck the necklace away, gaze lingering for a few reasons afterward. For one, he was glad he'd be here in case the thing proved dangerous. Damn well better not be. We could use some relaxation without everything goin' to shit.

Still, Cid was tugged fully into the present moment by Vincent passing so near a breath would've brushed their skin together. A chuckle helped him put the rest of his concerns aside for now. "We both know I ain't lookin' classy enough t'be a butler, 'specially yours. But, won't say no to not keepin' all this on my shoulder the whole time."

The beach lockers weren't too far back the way they'd come. Cid kept his wallet on him, just in case, tucking it into the same pocket as the locker's key. "C'mon," he grinned to Vincent. "We're just gettin' started!"

Despite his clear anticipation, Cid's smile already looked contented while he meandered down the boardwalk at Vincent's side. A bit of that peace was interrupted, though not too harshly, when a wealthy boy on a segway and his attendants made a path through the crowd. Cid let out a quiet 'tsk' and a huff, coaxing Vincent out of the way by one shoulder, but soon recovered his smile at a slant. "See, those 're butlers. I ever start actin' like that, ya know I've been possessed."

A glance across the way, and he had an idea for their first stop. Cid lightly patted Vincent's upper back, before letting his hand fall away as he tipped his head aside in invitation. The stop in question was a bookstore, boasting a wide variety of 'beach reads'. Maybe not the first place Cid would've normally thought to go, but he figured it'd have a quieter atmosphere that Vincent would appreciate. And indeed, after they entered with a chime of the door, the chatter and bustle outside were subdued. Soft guitar music was playing over the speakers, and there were just enough folks conversing inside to keep it from feeling too stuffy.

"What kinda books ya go for? Dunno how much they have, but we can check."

[Roleplay Starter] Andrea Rhodea + Vincent Valentine

RP Partner: @fromthe7thsidelines

"Evening, gentlemen." A casual wave and an easy, practiced smirk. "I'll handle watching the door here."

"Not necessary, Mr. Rhodea; we've got it covered," one of the men countered, though a couple did readily depart.

Andrea's smirk dropped into nonplussed coolness, one eyebrow raising a little. "Do you? Need I remind you of the wedding night fiasco back home in Wall Market? You boys couldn't keep your eyes or hands to yourself, leaving you wide open to be overtaken and utterly failing Don Corneo." The other man scowled, but glanced down to one side. "As I thought. Since I won't be tempted, it makes me a more effective guard, wouldn't you agree?"

After a few moments of muttering among themselves, the other lackeys dispersed. Andrea waited, leaned back beside the door, until footsteps and voices faded and he could only hear muffled conversation among the women instead. Cracking open the door as silently as possible, Andrea clenched his jaw briefly at how young the girl bragging seemed - a teenager, at his best guess. This bastard... He took a long, calming inhale and glanced around just in case, then opened the door wider. "And I wouldn't stop you, miss," he replied to the girl's latter claim. "But as for who was chosen, his identity isn't as important as the chance he's given you." His expression sobered further. "Quickly, do any of you know if more girls are being kept in another room? We came to find Vincent Valentine's friends; I didn't realize Corneo had taken so many of you."

Corneo himself was beckoning his first prize of the evening to the broad bed, where red silk rope was already tied to the headboard. Tempting... but equally so to find out what those hands of hers could do, gloves or not. And one so docile wasn't likely to need restraint, though he'd love to be surprised.

"Make yourself comfortable, my dear," the Don insisted with a leering grin, while he fetched a remote from the dresser. He hadn't been able to bring along many of his home cameras, but enough were set up for a few lovely angles. As Corneo sat beside her, free hand propped behind her rear so their sides and thighs could brush, he couldn't resist. He lifted the small remote a little to ensure a clear signal; the simultaneous snap of shutters came from several points in the room. "Perfect. Now, how about we start stripping away some of that shyness?" Corneo trailed an index finger up silky fabric to find the hem of one glove and tug it down.

His eyebrows rose at her insistence, though his expression soon eased and he shook his head. "Wasn't planning on it. You've done good work since you came here, and you're not half-bad to hang out with either," Biggs smirked again, before it broadened into a fuller, softer smile. "...Way I see it, I just got to know you a little better. That's all."

He almost laughs when Biggs tells him he's not bad to hang out with, the smile of amusement showing despite how much he tries to fight it. Not bad company, huh? Cloud would beg to differ. He's awkward and doesn't always know what to say.

"....Thank you." She isn't sure what else to say to this. It is not often she relies on others for help or confides in anyone. Should she leave? Probably but instead she finally sits down to indicate she isn't going anywhere for a while.

So when she asked to stay a little longer - and that admission of not wanting to be alone tugged at his heart - Biggs had to restrain himself from wrapping her up in a hug. Instead, he nodded, his smile lingering. "Of course. Stay as long as you want. I don't have much for guest entertainment, but I'm sure we can figure somethin' out to pass the time."

A voice from outside the shop door cut through Roche's adoring thoughts. He supposed there was no reason to think it was truly Cloud's assailants — Until the door opened for two pairs of footsteps trying hard to be silent. His tender expression sharpened, touch remaining gentle a moment longer as he coaxed Cloud's arm away to stand. Roche didn't have his sword. He wouldn't need it.

Both of the men freeze as they come face to face with Roche. So much for being silent. One of them glances between the other and Roche, as if he's trying to decide if he should run or fight.

"We have a reason." One of the two men pipe up. "Our boss sent us after him." Rufus Shinra wants Cloud to be taken down, he has for a long time, and well - they didn't think Cloud would be protected.

One of the men suddenly bolts, heading for the door and out of the building, unwilling to deal with Roche.

Ah, one of them even fled - at least that one had sense.

Just. Doing. His job. Disgusting. It wasn't even for the thrill of the fight, for the stoked fire of life dancing so close to the cold edge of death. It was unfeeling calculus, 'necessity', so blatantly corporate Roche needn't even guess who this man's boss likely was.

Still, he couldn't help a low laugh bubbling in his throat. "You? Hurt me?" Roche vanished into a blur marked only by the flash of his eyes and the flick of his hair. His hand snatched the cretin's neck, lifting the latter's feet from the floor, fingers closing like an inexorable vice. "Your comrade was wise to run."

Only after he felt the man's windpipe crumple in his grip, after scrabbling hands and kicking feet grew still, after eyes rolled back and desperate wheezes petered out, did Roche move. He bent to pick up the pair's dropped knives, then hauled the coward's body out of his shop by the crushed throat. First the body, then the knives were dropped unceremoniously a few long strides from his front door.

All the more reason Biggs meant every word.

He let the silence stretch while Cloud worked out what to say. Man, how long had she been left wondering about her sanity without anyone to insist otherwise? The mere idea needled in Biggs' chest, which another sip of tea didn't entirely alleviate.

The cup of tea provides a great way to hide his face on occasion as he lifts it to take a sip. He wants to turn around and run away, but at the same time, it's nice to finally have someone to talk to about something he's kept quiet about for so long.

She glances down at the hand on her shoulder but it's gone as quick as he had touched her. She looks back to his face, silence overcoming her once more. She believes him. Something about Biggs just seems so trustworthy.

His eyebrows rose at her insistence, though his expression soon eased and he shook his head. "Wasn't planning on it. You've done good work since you came here, and you're not half-bad to hang out with either," Biggs smirked again, before it broadened into a fuller, softer smile. "...Way I see it, I just got to know you a little better. That's all."

And every time, such tender requests from Cloud made Roche's heart stutter like a half-frozen engine. His smile emerged, adoring and gentler than he showed to anyone else, and he tipped his chin up to kiss her brow. Though that was half his answer in itself, Roche had no desire to leave her guessing. Not with this. "Always, my darling."

Cloud rolls over onto his side so that he can wrap an arm around Roche and curl into his side, taking comfort in the fingers through his hair and Roche's body warmth.

It isn't long before Cloud is fast asleep, the injuries having put her body through a strain big enough to make sleep an inevitability.

For the first thirty minutes, there is nothing but the sound of Cloud's steady breathing as they sleep against Roche but then, there's a sound outside.

A couple of sounds. Shuffling of people outside, the hushed talking from one man followed by the other speaking a little too loud.

"Shut up, you idiot!" One of the men hisses at the other as they draw their weapons, intent on making their way inside to finish the job that they had started. Cloud is an ex-SOLDIER, a traitor, and he must be dealt with.

A voice from outside the shop door cut through Roche's adoring thoughts. He supposed there was no reason to think it was truly Cloud's assailants — Until the door opened for two pairs of footsteps trying hard to be silent. His tender expression sharpened, touch remaining gentle a moment longer as he coaxed Cloud's arm away to stand. Roche didn't have his sword. He wouldn't need it.

Cloud had looked half-ready to bolt by then, though, so it was a quiet relief when Biggs didn't hear any steps making for the door. Even if it was just politeness that kept her here, he appreciated the company regardless.

So when they added onto their admission, Biggs narrowly avoided fumbling as he set aside the mostly-empty kettle. He mulled on what Cloud said, while stirring a spoonful of honey into each mug of darkening tea. Honestly, given what Biggs had just learned, it didn't sound insane at all. It sounded like trauma - the kind he dealt with himself, and the kind he'd helped others with as well - though he did wonder whether it hit a SOLDIER harder. Especially since both Cloud and Sephiroth had mako in their veins. Either way, Biggs still gently shook his head as he took up both drinks.

It surprises him when Biggs tells him that it's not insane at all. He snaps his gaze back to Biggs and he narrows his eyes at him in suspicion. Is he just trying to humor him or does he really mean that he doesn't sound insane?

Either way, Cloud reaches forward to carefully take the mug from Biggs. The warmth against her palms is a sort of comfort and as Biggs explains, Cloud's expression softens, that initial suspicion she had fading away fairly quickly.

"It's not memories. At least, not exactly. I smell the smoke but.....it's like he's here with me. I can't tell what is real and what isn't when it happens." But no one else can see him so obviously, they have to be insane, right? What other explanation is there, really? Maybe the mako in their veins has something to do with this.

Carefully he brings the tea cup to his mouth to take a sip. He's never been too much of a tea drinker but it tastes good and the honey is soothing in a way. "I...." He doesn't know what to say.

All the more reason Biggs meant every word.

He let the silence stretch while Cloud worked out what to say. Man, how long had she been left wondering about her sanity without anyone to insist otherwise? The mere idea needled in Biggs' chest, which another sip of tea didn't entirely alleviate.

[Roleplay Starter] Andrea Rhodea + Vincent Valentine

RP Partner: @fromthe7thsidelines

He noticed that careful brush of fingers over soft black hair - it truly had been a challenge not to play around with it longer - and watched Vincent through the mirror with a small, warm smile. Andrea didn't expect this to culminate in any grand personal breakthrough, but he did hope the other man at least felt as lovely as he looked, and that such a feeling wasn't rejected out of hand.

Still, Andrea didn't resist Vincent's sudden turn away from the mirror either. The way the other fidgeted with arm placement caught his attention, especially when they were crossed over Vincent's chest. Andrea reached to coax the gunslinger's arms down with gentle holds on each wrist. "It won't do to hide what'll help sell the illusion, my dear Vincent. But I admit, we don't have the time I'd prefer to teach many basics of feminine posture... Hm."

Only a moment of mulling passed before an idea struck. "Ah! Of course. Here, pardon my handling, but..." Andrea trailed off as he turned to stand beside Vincent, carefully linking their arms so the man's gloved claws would drape near his wrist. "This should help. Now you can keep your other arm down at your side without it looking stiff. The dress' skirts will accent your hip sway already, so just remember to shorten your stride a little." His expression sobered for a few moments. "I'm afraid that's as much time as I dare spend. Come; it isn't too far."

After helping Vincent out the door of the dressing room, Andrea made use of the approach to help the other man get accustomed to the disguise. They passed only a scant few pedestrians on the way, and those who did look twice had only appreciative flushed glances for Vincent. As they neared the private, technically-off-property suites, Andrea spotted a group of Corneo's men near the entryway. With a sidelong look to Vincent, he assured in a whisper, "You're doing wonderfully. You won't have to speak, just try to keep your eyes down; I'll tell them you're shy."

All six of them indeed seemed taken in by Vincent's disguise, though a few were openly salacious in their stares. Still, they bought his excuse of Vincent's shy silence, and of visiting to 'ensure there's no bad blood'. The lie tasted acrid, yet his act never faltered.

Armed with directions to Corneo's suite, and out of sight of the guards, Andrea let his pace quicken. Small mercy, the room was on the ground floor - and he knew from Dio that there was no usable basement or hidden rooms. Even so, he kept his voice to a whisper, more intense this time. "He can't use any of his traps here. I know you've the experience to assess things once you're in. I'll stay by the door, keep the girls safe." Andrea slowed, then stopped in front of the corner suite's door and let go of Vincent's arm at last, turning to rest his hands at the other's elbows. Grey eyes burned sharp as they met mismatched crimson. "Good luck." With that, he opened the suite door and led Vincent in by the hand. One last veneer of falsehood, to hopefully catch Corneo by surprise.

With Andrea gently clasping Vincent's wrists, the gunslinger tensed only for a moment. Andrea was being sincere. Years of confinement and self deprecation had taken a toll on Vincent's self image. Even if Andrea didn't know what all Vincent had become, or what he had gone through, there was not a judgmental bone in the mans' body. A rare individual... and a breath of fresh air.

Corneo, meanwhile, let his grin curl wider at this new woman's show of deference. It seemed Rhodea really had learned since the whole mess of a wedding night back in Wall Market, despite the ties that once-traitor also had to Dio. A willful girl was fun to break, yes, but servitude was its own sweet treat. How far would she go for him? What would she let him do? If he found her breaking point, how fun would it be to push past? Eyes like hers would look even prettier with tears.

"What delightful manners! You know... there is something fun in taking a bribe without taking the deal." The Don swept a hand at the other eagerly awaiting women. "Girls, make yourselves comfortable! Your turns will come. This lovely one will go first." Bending in a short mock-bow, he offered his hand then to the tall dark-haired woman, looking up at her with a toothy smirk and a lift of his eyebrows.

Cid couldn't proper recall the last time he'd had a stopover long enough for relaxation, especially not since meeting Aerith and the whole merry band of misfits. But now here they were in Costa del Sol, probably the world's hottest vacation destination, with free time on their hands. The others were just as eager to take advantage, splitting off in pairs or trios until Cid was left standing near the docks with only Vincent. Not company he much minded, truth be told, though a place like this didn't seem the other man's speed.

Still, Cid wanted to enjoy as much as possible while they were here. And besides, from what he'd seen, Vincent could use some loosening up.

Besides, he reasoned to himself, there was no sense in fumbling around the sand with his eyes closed. Better to just stay put 'til the sunscreen had dried. And probably better not to ask what was what, considering how close their hips were. Or to ask if Vincent's stare was what he felt on his face, tingling his nerves like the faint memory of a caress. Definitely better not to.

Just as Cid's impatience started to really gnaw at him, Vincent spoke again. No sooner had his eyes opened partway than he got a faceful of towel, leaving him spluttering for half a moment while he caught it. Dabbing away a couple small spots of excess, Cid paused as he once more heard the click of a digital shutter interrupting Vincent. He lowered the towel quick as he could, but didn't even spot anyone hurrying off.

Still, Cid knew what he'd heard, and his frown stuck around this time. "Barn animals, I'm tellin' ya..." he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. "What is it 'bout beaches that makes folk act a damn fool, ignorin' people's boundaries?" Speaking of which — "Oh. Shoot, here, lemme..." Cid finally got to his feet, towel still in one hand, and he offered his other palm to Vincent. His expression eased back into warmth, some of his smile returning, this time with a sheepish tinge. "That's what you were gonna ask, right? Prob'ly almost put yer legs t' sleep, sittin' so long. C'mon; ain't even got much chance to enjoy Costa del Sol yet."

As Vincent's fingers rubbed against Cid's face, Vincent caught the subtle creases on Cid's face when he stifled a grin. He cocked a brow, but thought nothing of it, coincidently shaking his head. He had to admit, Cid had a way of bringing out little sparks of warmth from the otherwise cold Ex-Turk. It was different from the others. Cid was comical without even trying. And the fact that it was just how Cid was added to the charm.

'Play', for now, was a nice stroll getting sand between their toes, with conversation and company as easy and welcome as the breeze off the waves. He could watch that dark pretty hair sway and catch the sunlight, those two-tone crimson eyes roam from the beach to the ocean to him, those gifted flowers complementing pale skin and likely just as soft. Yeah, even if Cid wouldn't get to do all the touristy stuff he'd first imagined, this would work just fine.

He noticed the glint a moment after Vincent did. At first, he thought it might be a little piece of a bottle, maybe from some lone sad sack who'd been drinking and thought they wouldn't get caught littering this far from the main beach. Cid followed after as Vincent approached it. No, it wasn't a bottle fragment, it was... a necklace, with a stone of some kind. The color of its gleam looked different than before; maybe it was one of those fancy gems that caught the light in various colors depending on the angle.