#whatever this is...

alex adopts a frog she found in valhalla's pond. magnus hates it. the frog usually likes to be in alex's shirt pocket but it would appear absolutely everywhere else, in the dining hall, in the bedrooms, in his toilet! magnus is completely terrified of that viscous green thing, looking at him with his yellowish eyes like it's staring right at his soul. alex thinks it's hilarious, samirah just rolls her eyes, she certainly is not a big fan of alex's new pet but she's seen her befriending worse things before so a frog isn't that bad. either way, one evening alex has to go to the mortal's world to complete a long mission, she'll be out for days and cant take nice froggie with her, so naturally, she picks magnus to take care of it. magnus blank stares at her. she wants him to take care of that thing? HA! that's a resounding no. but then alex bats her dazzling dark brown and amber eyes to him and he knows he's doomed, oh well, how could he ever tell her no?

at first magnus tries to keep distance from the frog, just doing what's strictly necessary for it to not die while alex's away, even tho he doesnt really understands why, i mean, it's literally a frog. he could just let it free in valhalla's pond and come back days later and it still would be okay. but he promised alex to keep the frog safe and sound while she's out so there he finds himself, sleeping with a little reptile on the pillow's beside his at nights. the frog certainly doesnt do much, it's pretty chill and quiet, but he still thinks its eyes are unnerving, and honestly, a pair of disturbing greenish eyes being the first thing you see in the mornings isn't exactly his idea of fun, but well, anything for alex.

days later he noted the frog started to follow him everywhere, like, everywhere, magnus needs to check the bathroom before taking showers now, and if he's not careful, he'd hear a croak coming right from the top of his head since for some reason the frog discovered magnus' head is a nice place to relax; but leaving that aside, it isn't that bad, seems like the frog likes him, maybe it's because he has that "summery aura" alex told him once, whatever the heck that means. anyway, on the last day of his baby-frogsitting, he figured the frog would like to be outside into the open air since, well, since it's a frog. so he decided to carefully grab the little amphibian and take it to his favorite place in valhalla's meadows. he placed the frog on the grass near a river and just layed besides it. the air blew gently and the river run calmly, and the frog seemed to be enjoying his company. and it even began to croak happily when magnus used his powers to grow some flowers around it, and for the first time magnus didn't get bothered when it hopped on his head. that day magnus discovered him and the frog both were outdoors type of guys, so now they have something in common.

“ladies” as in you are all part of my book club and i have arrived with some scalding hot tea about the town’s mysterious new bachelor

“men” as in you are soldiers in my battalion whom I would die for (and I probably will)

“guys” as in yall are being very rowdy at our favorite pizzeria and i am the hapless mom friend desperately trying to settle you down while avoiding the stink eye from giuseppe (owner)

“girls” as in i am a freshly-singly elle woods and i am in need of your support in this trying time

“boys” as in well well well, boys,,,,,now WHAT do WE have here....... >:)

“ninja” as in ninjaaaaaGOOO

The fire. It smoldered. He was not hostile. Or at least he did not seem hostile. Other creatures, other figures, charred and damaged, or armored beside fires had choked the heat out of the essential sources of warmth. This fire while subdued still burned as the others did when she happened upon them. She could do this. Unless this was another trick? An exception to the rules, the governing structure of this world - unstated, conjectured from stray observations and curious malformed comments from the few other residents of the world capable of speech.

The figure held something up and her heart skipped a beat. He was holding a wide sword, the blade nicked, tarnished and rusted though the edge was almost as bright and sharp as she remembered. Two circular holes were cut into the blade high near the hilt. A familiar weapon. His weapon. Aeris clambered up onto the plateau, loose stones clattering as she moved. The figure move languidly, unhurried, a glance over his shoulder and then an immediate re-focus on his task. Something to do with the Buster Sword.

Aeris grasped her staff in both hands and moved forward, waiting for his first movement. He could still attack; use her for an easy kill. She could not be worth much, but to some there was a sadistic pleasure in cutting down anything they found. Left or right-handed? Duck left of right when he moved? Practice and tireless repetition leant her more skill with her weapon than she ever had cause to develop in Midgar, but it was never enough for the next encounter - not truly. Always a moment of luck, a frantic strike, a-

“Stop hovering and rest,” the figure said, holding the sword up again, shifting the blade this way and that. Studying the edge. “I am not hollow.” He glanced over his shoulder. “And by the looks of things missy, neither are you.” He appraised her for another moment. “Closer than is comfortable however.” Another arm moved and delved into a pocket, a glowing ember tossed from a calloused hand to land beside her feet. "My name is Gilgamesh."

How long since her last? Too long to count – tempting to save this, but- Aeris snatched it up and pressed it against her chest, the chill dissipating well in advance of the proximity to the fire. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice quiet from lack of use. "I'm Aeris." The figure nodded, barely paying her any mind as he returned his focus to the sword. Aeris circled the fire, still unwilling to quite trust him and kept the flames between them. The man was sharpening the sword, making the still sharp edge deadlier. And he had more weapons; a whole array lay beside him. Curious oddities; wide blades with what looked like the grip of a handgun; a straight sword with a jewel encrusted hilt- A long, narrow, curved blade; it looked- No. “Where did you get that?” She pointed to his work in progress.

Gilgamesh glanced at her and back down to the Buster Sword. “Found it.”

“Where?”

He looked at her puzzled. “Near the ruins of a city. Terrible state in which to leave something so powerful.” His hand tightened on the hilt. “Mine now; I’ve been searching for this one for a long time.”

“Searching for it? Wait, how long have you been looking for it?” Aeris still could not quite relax.

“Not sure anymore,” Gilgamesh said as he scratched his head with one of his six spare hands. “Time is all confused these days. Like places- But I saw this once when it was shiny and new – in the hands of another. Not sure why he left it behind, but…” He grinned. “Wanted it then, got it now.”

“The owner,”Aeris settled on the opposite side of the fire, trying not to stare at the Buster Sword or the thin blade. “Do you know where he is?”

The man shook his head. “Would have fought him if I knew. Regretted passing up the first opportunity. Would have taken the sword as my prize.” He cocked his head to one side. “Reckon he must have left it there. A tribute maybe?” He glanced between her and the sword. “You knew the owner?”

“I knew someone who used that sword. Once. He had blond hair and blue eyes. And secrets – a world of secrets. But that was…” Aeris waved her hand vaguely. “Like you said; time is confused these days. But I remember how it used to look.”

“Shiny. Sharp.” Gilgamesh grinned. He studied the blade for another moment, peering closer at the edge. A sigh. “I may not have the skill to repair this. But I know of one who might-“ He stared towards the sky. “ A long way, but-“ He looked at her again. “Unless you wish to fight for it?”

Another fight. And one she might win – eventually of course; success built atop a succession of failures. Might. No. What good would Cloud’s sword do her now? She shook her head. “I would think he would prefer to see it used.”

Gilgamesh nodded slowly. “Then I will take my leave.” He plucked each of the swords from the ground, sliding them into a harness of sheaths he slung over one shoulder. The thin blade – no, the Masamune – remained on the ground. Gilgamesh hefted the Buster Sword in his right hand. “You gave me information freely. I will not forget this.” He tossed something towards Aeris. Angular, and glowing white. Faintly warm to the touch. “If you need my help, you may call for my aid. Use the soapstone.”

Aeris clutched the stone. “Thank you.” An ally for the struggles ahead.

Gilgamesh glanced at the Masamune for a longer moment. “Take this if you wish; I have a new sword. Hasta-la bye-bye!” He grinned at her and reached out to the flames, his body evaporating to ash in a moment. The Masamune remained on the ground beside it’s scabbard. She waited a moment and then another, Gilgamesh did not return to the fire. Aeris circled the fire. The sword was heavy; heavier than she expected. Ridiculously long. A blade that had touched her blood, touched Tifa’s. But like the Buster Sword, somehow separated from the owner she expected. How had Gilgamesh could by this blade too?