#{ac verse}

He offers an amused nasal hum at the question. Fair to say that the pair of them were so oblivious they struggled to see anything beyond the ends of their own noses.

Just one of surprisingly many things the twins had in common.

High time to spell it out to Rain, what exactly Cloud had planned for this place.

"The guy wanted a quick sale, I made an offer." He states simply, strolling over to one of the many thick steel beams in the centre of the space. He places a single hand on the cool metal as if testing its durability.

"I figure that, over time, Strife Delivery will shrink and become integrated into whatever you want to call your side of things. Maybe I could start actually helping you with the builds, get a truck - a decent one. Maybe eventually expand into renovation, extensions, that kind of thing." He glances over to his brother then, that faint grin still tugging at a single corner of his mouth.

"We did a pretty good job on Tifa's bar, right? And Edge is still growing, people are always crying out for carpentry and construction workers."

A pause, just to give Rain a moment for everything to start sinking in, maybe even realise that this place was actually a gift, not a proposition.

Words: 2,425 Genre: Romance/Drama Rated: T Character: [Kate B., Rick C.]

☆ Quiet, within the bar she closed for an evening. One single evening, where people complained and some asked for a gin and tonic to go. Their huffs fell on deaf ears as a bartender paced about her work area. Unsure. For she had never been the best baker, nor one to give good surprises. And in newly repaired relationship, there was tension to make what was considered a good first impression all over again. How to convey that someone is special. Flicker of doubt in vermilion irises were shaded by long lashes. She would not tell him. That every step felt teetering that she might mess up. 

A deep breath. Not today. Don’t do that today, Lockhart. Her commitment to try was what kept her in the kitchen till dusk, and in hearing chime of the back door she still did not stop, and instead called out to him. 

“—In here!” Sound of steam hissing from stew pot in the distance and small drops of icing formed into uneven flowers around his name by the center of a cake. 

I want to try. Even if... I don’t know if he’ll like it. Or if he’ll like any of this. 

They had spotted the man on his usual delivery route, one he strayed off of from time to time, but almost always fell back to. It had taken careful planning and several staged events- convenient meetings, roadblocks, and a handful of harmless 'accidents, to herd him down the right alley where he would find himself effectively surrounded, but so far, everything had played out smoothly.

Hopefully it remained that way.

"We jus' want the bag, lad," Blackthorne stated neutrally, taking a careful step forward, one hand extended, the other on the ax at her side.

From the other side of the alley, her second in command - an absolute bear of a woman, readied herself to grab him if he should try to run.

((This is for my animal crossing crossover!))

As the train came to a slow stop, a yellow-eyed, dark-blue cat grabbed his travel bags and waited for the train’s doors to slide open. When they slid aside, the passenger stepped onto the platform with his suitcases wheeling behind him. He had just arrived at his new home.

Meta exited the train station and stepped into what was called Dreamtown, supposedly run by a mayor named Dedede. Perhaps he would come to meet him? With questions buzzing in his head of what would happen in his new life in the small town, he travelled down the path to find the address that belonged to his newly built home.

The cat arrived at a small house with his new address. There was a blue roof, a metal exterior, a square metal door, and green hedges surrounding the small building. Ah, just like he ordered. Meta unlocked the door with a key he was given beforehand, and he entered with his bags in tow.

          – “ So, what’s exactly in your tinctures ? ”

                              ~ “ That depends. Who’s asking ? ”

     CHURCH, WAS IT? The man before her claimed to be a doctor but she wasn’t stupid. She was a doctor too. One with about 250 years of knowledge on him. He wasn’t just waltzing into her apothecary to get an eye on the competition stealing his clients. If he was a REAL doctor, he would in fact be asking her why her survival rate was so high. Why her patients were not bedridden for weeks. Why her remedies actually WORKED. Instead, this fool clearly wanted to know one thing and one thing only- how to get the money once again flowing back to HIM. Or, well, whatever it was he supported.

     To be fair, she didn’t even own this apothecary. She just worked in it, making the product the (male) owner, Mr. Smith, would sell. She still had absolutely no clue how the hell she got here, the amulet around her neck her only clue- but while she worked on that mess she at least had somewhere to survive. Colonial America was brutal. 

        – “ You should take care to watch your words, young lady, and answer my questions. ”

     A WARNING shadowing across his beady eyes, Maeve remained unfazed as she rolled her own amber hues at him. Given how people were beginning to talk, she really should be worried about this. About being discovered for- what? Witchcraft maybe? Considering nobody would believe her truth. But was she concerned? No. She crossed her arms right under her bust, still getting used to corsets from this century that she wore under her pale blue shirt tucked into yes- brown pants. So long as she hid it under her white apron skirt thing tied around her waist, nobody could tell the difference.

     Too engrossed now in the ass of a man before her, her gaze only flickered in acknowledgment to the second male to enter her shop, tricorn hat hiding his dark features. INSTANTLY she noted his luxurious gold trimmed clothes. Upper class. Great.

          ~ “ Oh wow. You’re a gentleman. Look- I’m more than happy to share with you the entire science behind this- yes, science. Not some faith based spirit elixir concocted by my great aunt. My end goal is ensuring the livelihood of each patient that walks through that door, so doctor to doctor- ”

     Whatever she was compelled to say instantly died in her throat. Obviously, given the way he strolled over to the pair, the newcomer was an acquaintance of CHURCH- and the second he stepped over, the necklace shoved under his shirt began to glow. Along with her OWN as she instantly glanced down at the abnormal light peaking out from between her breasts- ha. Wait no. SHIT.