#casual thread

“You know, there are days when I genuinely forget how old I am. And then I will be having a conversation with someone about the Digital World. And when I refer to the ‘Dark Area’ and the ‘Core’ as two separate things, their confusion reminds me that I am, indeed, older than dirt.”

Billowing columns of smoke saturated the air around Oerba's training field. Minor spells flew every which way, often hitting unintended targets, or colliding with the ravaged earth below. Scars were permanently etched into the training grounds, due to both a lack of keeping, and an excess of use. Despite the seemingly sparatic spell casting, and chaotic fighting, there was indeed a structure. There were two rings of soldiers, one was much smaller and was located within the large circle. On the outside stood approximately 30 men, while the inner circle contained around half as much. Upon command, every soldier in the smaller circle would stop fighting with their designated partner, and shift to their left, and assume their new partner. Soldiers on the outer circle remained stationary, until the command to fight was given. Due to the larger amount of soldiers on the outer ring, contestants from either ring were allowed a break every other fight, while someone else stood in for them.  ".............."

Cecil glanced down at his training partner. It hadn't taken long for him to submit, and take a knee, leaving the Dark Knight with ample time to catch his breath. Aside from a few considerably seasoned men, most of the soldiers here appeared young and stupid. Halfway through the exercise, many would abandon their form and simply swing their sword around madly. It didn't really bother the Knight, but it was clear who to avoid when given a mission. 

"Next!!!"

Squall walked toward the exit of Headquarters, having called it a day, and finishing his training session long before lunch. He had preparations to make for dinner that night, and he wanted to get some rest and maintenance work on his gunblade done before then. He knew how much Matthias would snark at him if he found out that he'd been training the whole day again.

He sighed a little, wondering if he really should have promised the old man to have dinner with him that night. It wasn't that he particularly minded his company. The man had practically raised him single-handedly. No, that wasn't it. He just wasn't sure he was in the mood for another of those pep talks.

His mind was preoccupied, as it had been for certain weeks now, with certain conflicting thoughts. Trying to make sense of it all slowly, in his head. And now, weeks after that incident, he still was pretty much as confused as before.

Walking through a door from one hallway to another, Squall felt someone walk right smack into him, tumbling to the floor with a loud thump. Instantly, his mind thought of a certain silver-haired teen. But it couldn't be. This person was a little shorter than that.

Squall woke up with a start, drenched in sweat. His breathing was fast and shallow as he raised a hand to his throbbing head, his heart beating so hard he nearly thought he could hear it echoing in his head.

Bad dreams he was used to, but it had been a while since he'd had a nightmare that bad. He wondered if that was why he was still feeling groggy, and not rested in the least. Still, tired as he was, Squall had his doubts he would be able to go back to sleep, snippets of his nightmare still flashing through his mind.

Trying to calm his breathing, Squall lifted his head from his hand and looked around slowly, noting the relative dimness of his room. It was probably just after sunrise. A look at the clock confirmed that, and Squall climbed out of bed unsteadily. He was still dizzy from the after-effects of his sudden awakening, and he stumbled over his feet in trying to get to the bathroom.

Once in, he put his hands on the side of the sink and leaned on it for support, noting that his face was still flushed a brilliant red. He pulled at the collar of his white t-shirt unconsciously, shaking his head when his eyes had problems focusing. He was terribly sweaty, and his head still hurt. A cold shower would do him a world of good. A cold shower, and then to the simulation room, to try and forget the nightmare he'd had.

When Squall stepped out of the shower a good few minutes later, he did feel a lot better. His face was only a light shade of pink now, and his head didn't hurt so much anymore, even though he still felt a tad light-headed. His bare skin was cool from the near ice cold shower he had taken, but he felt strangely warm from the inside.

Deciding he really didn't want to put on his usual jacket, Squall yanked out a sleeveless black top from his modest wardrobe and pulled it on, although he still went through the usual trouble of buckling his many belts over his leather pants. With a tie of the sash and the slipping on of his fingerless gloves, followed by the practiced wearing of his combat boots, Squall was ready and out the door, gunblade in its holster.

Squall rode silently with his silver-haired companion trailing along somewhere behind, suppressing a shiver when a cold evening breeze blew. It somehow managed to get under his jacket and made his damp shirt feel colder than it already was. With a small sigh, he took his hands off the reins of the Chocobo and removed his gloves, his fingers pruny from the moisture that had gotten trapped inside.

Absentmindedly, he tapped the hilt of his gunblade again. He would have to give it a thorough cleaning and maintenance after handing in the mission report. It wasn’t that Squall thought the joints would rust - It was made stronger than that. It just put him at ease, and would give him something to think about besides the fiasco that had been his day.

Riding quietly the way he was, with no need to plan for a mission ahead, Squall could feel those haunting thoughts returning. He tugged his jacket closer to him and scowled a little as he tucked his gloves into one of his belts, taking the reins once again.