#makoblue

"You're welcome, Mrs Hopkins, don't worry about it. Don't have much planned today." In one arm, Zack carried what appeared to be a pile of groceries, while the other supported a decrepit old woman, back locked in a perpetual bend forward.

"Now THAT I doubt. You must be struggling with a LINE of lady callers, eh? You're such a good boy."

Zack smiled, their pacing painfully slow, but he didn't mind it. Mrs Hopkins was near completely blind. Probably a good thing she didn't know the one consistently helping her out was viewed as anything BUT the good citizen she thought of him. Rather, a menace to their fair city - and hunted, at that.

ShinRa was chomping at the bit to finally get a hold of him. If they did, Zack had no small amount of ideas of what they would do to him. He wasn't willing to give them the pleasure. He'd escaped under impossible circumstances and yet, freedom was hardly how it felt.

Zack's world had always been topsy turvy, extending far beyond what he could recall. The memories of the past decade, or longer, overtook all the ideas of before when things were simpler [those days that he sorely took for granted, and painfully yearned for now]. The ground had yet to resettle into any sense of normalcy since he'd gained his 'freedom,' as loose a concept as it was for the hunted. How did one go from stagnation to color and sound all at once? It felt very much like his mind and body were caught in two different places. He was living a splintered reality.

"All right, Mrs Hopkins, we're here!"

"Very good. You can just set the groceries down the ground where you always do. Missy will be along presently."

"You got it." Zack hustled to put down the ladies goods, opening the door and rushing back to assist her the rest of the way forward.

"Thank you, young man."

He had told her his real name on one occasion, but she never seemed to recall it. Now.... well, whatever name he gave her, it was false. Best for everyone involved, though he didn't see any sense of danger in that circumstance.

"I'll see you around, Mrs Hopkins!"

It was a painful experience, those brief moments of pure bliss, where the world seemed finally righted. It was just...

So NORMAL. So innocent and carefree, like everything might be okay.

Zack sighed, tilting his head back.

There was a niggling sensation in the back of his head, he could feel the tiny hairs on his neck stand bolt upright. He'd long learned to follow his instincts. How else would he have survived so long? Eyes popped open, body tensed, and his gaze pierced through the layers of the world that existed in front of him to find what had alarmed him unconsciously.

He stared. 

It was rude to stare and yet, there was no internal voice that demanded he look away. Gone was the fresh-faced dreamer. There was more than simply the physical scars that marred him. 

Cloud?

He stared, because there was often things around him that reminded him of his old friend [they'd been through quite a lot together, though he doubted Cloud would remember any of it].

Damn if the man ahead didn't look like Cloud. 

There was nearly a momentary retraction back to the past, where Zack would screech and jump like some rabid spider monkey to latch onto his back and demand he join him for a drink or an adventure through the countrysides they connected over!

@makoblue liked for a starter! (KEK) It had all mattered so much back then; conquest and heroes, monsters and hope. There was always something to chase after, always something to fuel the fervor of the former First Class, Genesis Rhapsodos. But now, there was nothing left. Meteorfall was devastating, and the ruins under his feet offered unfamiliar terrain, even if he was certain he had walked these streets many times before. A quiet, orange-red dusk had settled across the horizon, the creak and groan of unstable structures his only company. Very little was spared the tumult of total plate collapse-- not even the underdeveloped Sector 6 was spared, much of the debris and other loose material built up to make a most fantastic nest of creatures both native and released from containment. 

But the occasional encounter never lasted long. The blood of beasts both natural and manufactured did little to paint the former commander’s world outside of its monochrome. Had battle always been so easy? Or was it that back then, all he could focus on was the best? 

Good enough?

Ironic. 

But it was too late now. There were only phantoms and whispers to guide him as rumors floated around Edge of a mercenary, a swordsman weidling a monstrously large blade. Former ShinRa. Few individuals fit such a description, and if it was for just a single familiar face… something left… Just a little color. 

The mercenary was a fickle thing. Figures-- Fair never could settle. Always dragged off to this or that. Always rolling with the punches. Resilient. Adaptable. But after enough goose chases and loose ends, he had obtained a particularly hot tip that the young man frequented a church that by some miracle had withstood much of the devastation. And for many denizens, it was a holy place. But when Genesis arrived, he was less than impressed… nonetheless, he walked through the crumbled double doors before being greeted with an overwhelming smell of… flowers.

Holy indeed. 

 *  ―  𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑺𝑻𝒀 𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺. || No longer accepting.

LET IT GO?? How could he be expected to do that?

Mako-infused hues seem to burn into Cloud's. The anger is roiling within him, but aside from the slight lowering of brows and the venom lacing his tongue it'd be impossible to guess it.

"Cl----"

"Cloud!" Zack forced his friend to focus on him, and only him, steadying him by cupping his large hands on the sides of his face and not allowing his gaze to stray very far.

Was there any wonder that he unraveled at the seams? That he found instability in the uncertainty that they faced on the daily? Cloud was stronger than he would ever know, because, Zack doubted he even spent a SECOND realizing the truth strength he exuded simply getting to where he was that day. A lesser person would not have made it over the first hurdle, let alone the insurmountable obstacles that yet lay in wait.

"Listen, LISTEN to me." His voice was harsh, loud, refusing any interference of getting in between them.

❛ You are allowed to feel messed up and inside out. It doesn't mean you're defective - it just means you're human. ❜ Soldier or not, didn't matter, their humanity made it so sometimes they were imperfect!

‘ misc ’ lyric starters || @makoblue

    “ —— in my head ? ”  he inquires, brows furrowed & head subtly inclined, despite any pitiful attempts to appear level-headed. in retrospect, he’d never  been  very good at lying  ;  pretending.  only,  he had grown accustomed to others brushing it off. this time around, cloud would have much preferred to keep any and all insignificant complaints to himself. they are headed to his hometown, after all. somewhere long since visited.