Turk with nunchucks

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A small smile formed again when he squeezed her hand. It sent so many mixed feelings through her. She squeezed back again and lets her hand stay in his. She planned on getting him exactly what he wanted.

She nearly panics when she sees the difference with Ossis at the question. She was practically kicking herself and moved closer to him without thinking about it. The bright energy had faded from him and that terrified her more than him forgetting her.

She leaned over his bed, other hand pressing against his cheek. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.” Her exhaustion began to show through her actions and facade once more. She was nervous about his reaction to the closeness. “I’m glad I’m not so forgettable at least…”

Anvivia was physically relieved at his response and leaned down to rest her forehead against his, if they would allow it. She never wanted to leave his side, even if they didn’t know it.

It was not a gesture they had expected. It's not the gesture in itself that they even register as the intimate show of closeness as it was, no, but it's rather the touch. A real touch of something corporeal. Something that gently asks them to return back to the world but without any strings of threat or violence. It was strange and somewhat new. And Ossis has never feared anything new and unknown.

Sapphire blue eyes blinks back to the present, back to Anvivia. The smile relaxed. There's a brief flash of uncertainty in those eyes to her words before the pieces fell into to place.

His hand grips over the white gloved one, and his eyes closed as the two foreheads connected. Anchored. Close to shore. It's warm and light and they feel bright and secure.

Anvivia chokes on her laughter. She couldn’t keep it contained and nearly doubled over onto him. “You already have the best skateboard tricks! I can’t hold you up on a board!” She managed to calm herself down, tears in her eyes from laughter as she tones it down to a smile.

If any of the other Turks were around, it would be the first time in 2 years that they would hear that laugh come from their colleague. She had laughed, of course, when the mood of the others called for it, but it held no true emotion to it.

She had changed, just as everyone else had. The biggest difference between herself and the others was that she felt like not even a day had passed now that they were awake. With Ossis around, she felt like this had never happened. She still felt the guilt, but having them awake made it manageable.

She grins with Ossis. “I can sneak you some lobster.. If I can find some.. You know they are very shellfish around here.” She pauses to think for a moment. “Sunshine, how much did you lose?” She doesn’t want to ask, but she needs to know how much he remembers of her. How close she can be to them without making them uncomfortable.

Hearing her laughter and seeing her smile warms up Ossis’ thin frame from within. The sight distracted them from Anvivia words. However, they doubt it really matters, what matters is her happiness, and that they were the one who provided it.

Ossis' own charming smile hasn't left them, and they give another friendly squeeze to her gloved hand. Neither of them had let go of the other.

"That would be lovely." Ossis purr in a hopeful tone - with an added chuckle at the pun. Pausing just a moment too long -as they begin to gather their thoughts on how to deliver the next follow-up suggestion- because that precise moment gave room for Anvivia's question. A question which robs the bliss and invites the darkness back. Ossis could naturally, easily turn it back. All Ossis needs to do is to play oblivious and innocent and throw in a jest. It would be easy and comfortable, but if this is something that has pained Anvivia for some time then it's better to give her some real reassurance.

Anvivia gives them a small smile, her heart racing in an anxious pattern. She wanted her friend back. No. That wasn’t quite accurate. That wasn’t what they meant to her. She should let go, but she won’t. Not this time. She won’t let go again.

She runs her gloved thumb over his hand. She didn’t know how much Ossis remembered, and struggled to ask.

“Just don’t fall and we’ll have nothing to worry about, right?” Don’t fall again, don’t love her. Don’t be close again. She can’t let Ossis be in danger like that again. It was her fault. It always is.

“How are you eating? Are they treating you alright?” She knew these were stupid questions, but they were far kinder than the ones she wanted to ask. The ones that would lead to Ossis either remembering that he should hate her or making her regret everything that she did to them to make them forget.

"Oh, you know I cannot make such promises, my lady. We all know I cannot resist the challenge in perfecting my skateboard stunts."

The longer Ossis are observing Anvivia, the clearer becomes their mind –in a strange sense of matter. They have only woken up recently, woken up to a world that hasn't stopped changing in their absence. Everyone who had come to visit had changed. Katana, Cissnei, Reno, Rude, Shotgun and— but Anvivia, she appears precisely how they remembered her. There's a strange sense of comfort in that thought, even though Ossis bet that there are changes, just that they can't see them right now.

The renewed smile on the blonde's face is a familiar sight. It's the sweet, angel-like, boy charming smile that they are known for. Wanting nothing more than to escape from misplaced feelings of guilt. Wanting to see Anvivia smile for real and not in pretend, Ossis changes the subject.

( @turkanvivia )

The blonde Turk makes a quiet but delighted sound when discovering this sweet gift.

Rufus rarely dreamed - but when he did, they were, like most dreams, an odd mashup of thoughts and memories of absolute nonsense.  Right now, he dreamt of that Gaia-awful fanclub of all things. All of the Turks were members - even the Old Man! All wearing cream-coloured ribbons that shone gold on their wrist.  Even Dark Nation had one on her tentacle tied in a big fancy bow, and she was small again, a bitey, yapping little thing at his feet.  It seemed like they were all merely entertained by his embarrassment at the start - until everyone was staring at him in eerie silence. More people appeared, an uncountable amount to the point where Rufus couldn’t see their faces.  “They all want a piece of you.” Rufus looked down, and Dark Nation sat there, tentacle wagging.  “Is there enough of you to go around?” Why the hell did his guard hound sound like his mot  -  Rufus hadn’t time to answer when hands were suddenly tearing into him, tearing him apart -  Conscious broke through as Rufus then felt a hand brush his hair back, something… someone crooning his name.   The drug-induced dream quickly forgotten, Rufus jerked violently back from whatever was touching him - only to be hurriedly hushed.  “Shh shh shhh - easy, my dear, dear Vice-President, nothing to be afraid of, I promise.” Vision still blurry - and it didn’t help that the room’s lights were dimmed, Rufus couldn’t make out Pedro, but it most certainly sounded like him.  “Oh my, to have you here in my home, in the flesh…”  Rufus cursed inwardly, before looking in the direction he thought Pedro was, “Where’sss…. Ossissss….”  He couldn’t see Pedro’s face, but Rufus knew the man had stilled at the question. It was an immediate opportunity to get him talking, to stall for time, to wait for the drugs to wear off.  Rufus’ first lesson from Veld, all those many years ago: Make them start talking, and keep them talking.  “I thhought he was your… your friend.” It was hard to get words out, but it was enough to make Pedro already uncomfortable.  “He’s… he’s fine! He’ll be fine,” Pedro blurted out, “The, the drugs weren’t that strong - but but what’s important right now is that you’re my honoured guest! The others at the club always went on and on about hoping to meet you someday….” Rufus had to bite down a surprised noise when Pedro was almost right in his face, and there was an obsessive, wide-eyed glee in his gaze 

“But I wanted to.” he said softly, and lifted some strands of Rufus’ hair, “I wanted to meet you so badly.”

Rufus’ lip curled a little, unable to help but lean away, “You could’ve jusst asked for an’autograph…”  Pedro let a laugh, thankfully moving away for a moment, “Oh, such a kidder - I knew you’d have a sense of humour!”

Rufus rolleed his eyes a little, “M’here all night…”

Pedro could only grin, “Oh, I hope so…” Ossis, please, please be all right… 

Into the wolf’s jaws the black sheep prowls. Avoiding teeth and creaky floorboards on its way. With a set purpose that's feed with betrayal and blood lust. Oh, Pedro will regret his transgression.

It's easy enough to locate the basement, and thanks to Nunchaku's background check of the building, he knows right away that something is at miss. The basement is far too small from what was shown on the blueprints. Nunchaku spends a full four minutes searching for any clues or hidden passages. Nothing. Just a regular poor-man's storage space with the smell of moisture damage.

Growing up with money, Nunchaku knew that rich folks loooves secret spaces with hidden entrances. As a child he took great pleasure in discovering hidden doors whenever he was invited to someone's property. The bigger the estate the more likely it is for the existence of these hidden spaces.

His search leads him to Pedro's bedroom. Nothing appears out of normal at first glance, just what one might expect how a bedroom of a middle age hairdresser, an eccentric man from downtown to look like. Nunchaku takes no enjoyment navigating through Pedro's privacy. They weren't friends. That's why he remains unaffected when stepping into the walk-in-closet, through rows of colorful garments that conceals the man's secret obsession. An unhealthy number of pictures, magazines, and trinkets are all gathered alongside one wall. All of them picturing Rufus Shinra. White Gold fan club.

                   - Jackpot!

Finding what he was searching for, Nunchaku leaves the closet door wide open and his blazer on the floor before descending into the dark… with a dangerous sneer on his lips.

-

Distracted by the talking and the insane fact that he had Vice President Rufus Shinra here, alone, with him! Despite it, Pedro jerked his head up in alarm by the noise of a floorboard over them squeaking ever so lightly. Holding his breath for a few tense seconds of listening before visibly relaxing and turning his full attention back on his honored guest when there's no more followed up sounds. After all, old wood do creak.

"Now, where were we, Mr. Vice president?" Pedro clears his throat in apology. Sinking back into his false sense of security. One of Pedro's hands finds its way back onto Rufus' shoulder…

Leaning closer to the drugged and tied up man, Pedro studies Rufus with an intense look of admiration. The grin is also back, but doesn't stay on for long—

                  Snip! Snip!

Somewhere from the dark and unlit corners of the basement, echoes ominous sounds from a sharp scissor.