#flaidd

          “say, your highness? would you be so kind as to hold onto this for me?”

 ❛--You break that?❜ 

There’s mild annoyance present within his voice, inquiry barely toeing the line of irritation. When one dealt with the presence of children on the daily, it was natural that ones patience was tested. The rare dropped plate, knocked over bar stool, giggles retreating away from a slammed door; a kind of mischief that came with unending energy and little bodies too small to contain it. Guilt would always follow, kids hardly the disrespectful sort-- yet Cloud has seen his fair share of tantrums and rough housing. 

This, though? A truck, in the middle of nowhere? 

Thankfully just a nasty dent, and likely an accident - had the man been the culprit at all - but a somewhat baffling one. Cloaked in all blue, grand furs about his shoulders and dark armor underneath: he hardly fit the part of a typical traveler. Especially here-- stifling heat, nothing but the deserts barren embrace spread out around them, and a small settlement piercing the otherwise unbothered horizon. An actor then, maybe. Perhaps one from Gold Saucer, without pack to store his rather impressive characters regalia.

Yet could an actor hold so much strength, lest he been similarly augmented?

❛ i don’t mean to alarm you, your highness, and don’t turn around.. ❜

EMPTY HALLS & barren walls. the place is destroyed -- no longer the home it once was. the nostalgia that brings her here on the day of promise presses her heart with a heavy weight. alone -- yes, she believes she is alone. five years have passed & all she can hear is the echo of her heels against the dry pavement. save for one thing  .  .  . 

perhaps there are animals scurrying about the corners, in the walls. something -- some murmuring drawn from the voice of  .  .  .  of something. it’s almost familiar. she draws nearer, to the point of approaching. this presence is not unknown, however frightening. eyes look from one point of the area to the other & she does a double take when she sees him. she almost screams, but her throat is silenced in fear. eyes are wide as she witnesses him. she knew he wasn’t dead. she did not know that he was here.

                                                       `  dimitri.   `

in the home of rats, he nests in his lonesome. he is speaking, yet no one listens. she’s vulnerable here, & she is afraid. goosebumps coat her arms & shins beneath her wear. 

he knows dimitri is, well, testy in this current state. he’s a bit like a crocodile. you’re not if you’re going to get bitten, and when. but it’s freezing out here in the snow. the winters are brutal, and ashe wished he had been able to afford a nice fur cape before they embarked on this mission outside the monastery. 

his rational brain said not to bother dimitri, but ashe had always been a little too bold. and he couldn’t help the full body shivers that racked through his body. 

so he did the unthinkable: he sides right up next to dimitri, taking the end bits of his long cape and wrapping them around himself. it was thick and warm, and consequences be damned for this very moment.