#*boops*

Smiling widely, Selena wrapped her arms around the woman, returning the hug and feeling a small pang of guilt for what she was going to say. She was an adult, so was Reno, and they should be able to hash things out between them, but this was different.

"I'm fine," Selena stated, nodding her head a beat later to help put Ida's concern to rest, "And so is Jake." And Reno was too - for the most part. Picking at a loose thread on the cuff of her sweater, Selena pulled a face, not feeling wholly confident in her wording, but knowing she had to say something. And maybe this would turn out to be something - maybe it was his father's birthday? Or it was coming close to a date that meant something back before he came to Meldacio? Something he didn't want to tell her about, but something Ida would know about and she could put her mind at ease?

aswell as forming companionship with those who are both feared, yet misunderstood.

They deserve equal tranquility as much as anyone else.

Bonding with those who merely seek peace, despite the odds. Who never wanted trouble, but will fight willingly. Because not do they only have that right, but aren't afraid of standing against what is falsely praised, when they are the ones who have suffered. And in turn, show it determinedly, claiming the title of 'Anti-hero' and 'vigilante'.

...I adore that.

Edit: It's been awhile...

I cherish the ideal of creations given life and/or living misjudged entities having the choice to develop their own hospitality and morals without negative enforcement, nor carelessness. For they too deserve fairness and goodwill.

To be shown just as much kindness and vise versa, placing yourself in their position, both learning from and teaching each other...it goes a long way.

Authoritive, parental gaurdians or friends that would snap on a dime for the ones they bond with and/or look after, is just the icing and candy pieces with cherries on top.

I grew up watching giant creatures.

Then came big autonomous gentlemen..

And yet..it all falls back to where everything started...

he didn’t even bother to correct her answer about the flowers, he just shot her a knowing look - innocent, naive little flower girl, his ass. aerith saw everything, heard everything and had a wit she hid with that gossamer giggle of hers. 

she knew damn well what he meant.

this place. the shanty towns of the slums, the shops that were built out of spare lumber and corrugated tin sheets, a string of fairy lights strung across their counters to try and draw in the slums inhabitants like moths to a flame. there was no such thing as a glass-ceiling for the folks of the slums, nah - no need for one of those when there was a solid metal ceiling looming three-hundred metres overhead.

staying where he sat on one of the broken pillars of the church, the turk let the heel of his shoe thunk against the crumbling concrete, ‘ learnin’ to love something sounds an awful lot like settling for second-best. ’