#illchopitoff

      IT WAS THE SWIFT PASSING OF another which seizes her attention so, gilded hues attuned well to their blurred figure with ease as they dash forward. an item -- that of a larger box -- remains tucked beneath an arm, one glance to toward the opposite direction which they flee an indicator itself that it was something they had not simply happened upon. to witness thievery in broad daylight... this city continued usher in subtle surprises in comparison to the mischief cloaked within darkness that was known as paris. this little predicament did not concern her in the slightest, and yet...

      launching forth, the distance that had been made between her and the culprit dwindled until she lands before him. with a swing of her arm does cement meet hardened wood, emitting a loud crack as a coffin plants itself in front of the man who seemed too occupied in glancing backward. moments pass before the man lets out a yelp, colliding into the makeshift barricade and tumbling backward, the package itself toppling away from his grasp. eyes drift to where the dazed man lays, only lifting themselves toward the blond stranger as he approaches moments later.

     Shizuo was no stranger to the instability of unemployment. He’d been fired and left without income far too many times to count. But those times, it had been on account of him losing his temper. He’d lashed out against rowdy customers and broken valuable equipment. He made people feel scared when he was around. Shizuo Heiwajima was bad for almost any kind of business, except for the one he’d graciously been offered by a certain long-time friend of his.

     But in the city, it didn’t seem like Tom, or his business, was around. All Shizuo could see around him was pedestrian after pedestrian and business after business — all of which he had already known were completely unsuitable for him.

     Until he saw a rather spiky-haired blonde, who had been carrying a package to someone on the street. A delivery boy? While such a job would have him taking special care not to break whatever he was delivering, and would also have him dealing with possibly unruly recipients, there had to be more options for that line of work, right? Did they need bodyguards? Receptionists?

     Well, he could always just ask.

     “Oi, delivery boy.”

         {{☀}} Art had always been an escape for the young monarch. Whether it be small sketches or grand-scale murals. In the confines of a tower, escape was a necessity, a survival tactic. Given her newfound freedom, there was far too much to see and do. Rapunzel’s brushes and paints were left upon a shelf to gather dust. Until today.

          Seeking out a barren wall had been a simple task bringing a brush to the chipped brick was not. Inspiration alluded her until it hit her all at once. Vibrant purples and yellows began to cover the rust-colored surface. A face could be made out amongst the bright hues, one like her own but with the slightest inconsistencies. Dark hair and a crown rested upon the figure’s head, a Queen, her mother.

     It was weird knowing people could come here multiple times and just not remember it until they got here-- but it was also weird how people ended up building lives here. Sure, she supposed it was natural, but it didn’t sit right with her. Then again, it was hard for her to see this place as anything but a big open prison. Especially when she had more important things to be doing.

“People sure find interesting ways to pass the time here, I guess...” She pauses. “Um, not to say that it sounds like a bad business, I mean. It’s surprising to hear what people end up doing while stuck in this place, is all.”

“Last time I came here, I was too worried about home to figure anything out... I’m not worrying as much now, but I still don’t know what I should do, now.”

@illchopitoff

“Hello, Cloud.”

Sincere, quiet, sinister in the worst way possible. Yes, inhuman. The silver-haired man looked down at the man below him, even as he sat calmly on a stone ledge jutting from one of the many nondescript buildings in Sector 3.

Interesting. That was Cloud all right, but...he felt different from the Cloud Sephiroth had last spoken to, before he’d last left this city. Not like he’d changed over the natural progression of time, but as if Cloud had been taken and replaced with a different Cloud, similar in almost every way, but...

Gently edging himself off of the elevated platform, the man in black allowed himself to float down to the ground below, where he stood facing Cloud’s back, unblinking eyes straight forward, that mysterious smile constantly playing at emerging from his thin lips, but never quite allowing it to appear. The face of an inhuman beast wearing a human face.

“You’re looking healthy. Keeping your friends safe, I trust?”