Down at the Prancing Pony (Open Log)

[saintsoldier]

When: Dusk
Where: Dilhum, north-central Pyris (down at the local tavern/hotel)
Who: Zax, a few racist tavern-goers and anyone else~? ♥

Comments

Zax so just got a hard-on at Cloud in action.

[saintsoldier]

There was something quite familiar about the scene as it unfolded in front of him, only Zax had been sure that whenever it happened in the past, that he'd been the one doing the protecting, and having Cloud's (oddly well-muscled) arm soot out in front of him almost like a reflex action was... odd.

Needless to say, Zax felt absolutely no urge to step forward and help, as the other handled the three men in little over ten seconds. He watched him move, his speed and grace, the way every blow he made was so well controlled. This wasn't the same Cloud he'd left on the cliff.

Wondering over to one of the groaning bodies sprawled on the floor, Zax nudged the man a bit with his foot, then looked up and around at the staring public and have a 'they started it' sort of childish shrug. As aggravated as a few of the others seemed at this, they were all smart enough to not challenge the two.

He raised his head and met Cloud's eyes as the blond looked back at him. Then, he could see. He was... older. Not just in years, either, because the big blue eyes Zax remembered so fondly were a good deal darkened than before.

Again, his hand automatically went to his centre, this time beneath his knit pullover. Oh God, there were scars. That just proved it.

What to say, what to say...

"... I told ya you'd get taller," Zax offered sheepishly.

Fail, Zax. Fail.

"Don't phear me Cloud! I just want sex!"

[saintsoldier]

Finger, finger. Now that Zax had the mental image of a little scar here and there for every bullet that had torn into him (and there had been a lot from the blur he remembered of, you know, dying), it was as though he could feel each and every one of them, and suddenly he was itchy all over. He ran a few fingers through his hair, at the front of his head above his brow, and even felt a little scar between the strands of stiff hair. He felt like a self-conscious little girl.

"So, uh..." he attempted to break the silence, smiling faintly at the back of Cloud's head as he followed him through the narrow streets. He couldn't have been too much older than he was before, maybe a few years, but it was there to show, and he definitely hadn't become any less of a stunner. All filled out, and about as manly as he'd ever get unless he grew a beard, Zax mused.

"You got dragged to this world too, huh? Have you been here that long?" he noted that the other had at least tried to vaguely blend in with the locals and don similar clothing, whereas this was the first settlement Zax had come across since he stopped being hopelessly lost in a huge forest to the south, and he was still in his old 1st Class uniform. Just without the SOLDIER belt.

Cloud was obviously too lost in his Cloudish thoughts to reply straight away. Zax continued on, as though talking partially to himself. "Some weird time difference though, huh? You're all growed up! Just look at ya, if it wasn't for that hair I wouldn't recognised ya."

Come on, take a stab at me for the bad joke. Come on Cloud, look at me. Say something, get outta that head o' yours.

Happy Cloud, HAPPY. Your best friend is back from the dead, be HAPPY DAMMIT.

[saintsoldier]

Rather than stand awkwardly by the door, Zax moved over to the left side of the room and figured it would be less threatening if he sat down. He took a seat on the edge of the bed and folded his arms loosely. He knew what Cloud was like about physical contact when he was in that certain mood; at least, he remember what the younger Cloud had been like, although it didn't look like that certain trait had changed too awfully much. Either way, he'd give him a little bit of time to tone down about this whole thing before approaching him.

"Five years, huh..." he breathed, raising a hand to scratch his head awkwardly. "Oh, the book? You mean when you threatened ta kill me an' there was that picture of your glare?" he laughed softly, "Don't worry about it."

The place wasn't a dump, but it definitely wasn't nice either. The bed he sat on was hard and cold, there was scarce furniture and if he reached up he could put his hand flat against the ceiling. It felt vaguely claustrophobic. Zax eyed the surroundings while he searched for something else to say. Was it five years since they escaped? Or five years since...

Judging by the look on Cloud's face, definitely the latter... five years since he'd watched his best friend die.

"Agh..." he sighed tiredly and lowered his head, running a hand back and forth through his hair, "So that really did happen... " some small part of him had still been hoping it was a nightmare, even save for the scars. He looked up at the other.

"I'm...sorry, bud. This must be real hard for ya, lookin' at me like this."

Oh, ooooh i get it. Cloud's face isn't happy. BUT HE IS HAPPY IN HIS PANTS.

[saintsoldier]

"Really?" Zax raised an eyebrow and hefted himself up a little on the bed so he could grab the odd little book out of his back pocket and flicked through it. The picture of Cloud's grumpy-glare and the words he'd said before were still in the first couple of pages, but other than that everything else was blank.

He'd definitely have to give that theory a spin later, though now really wasn't the time, so he tossed it onto the small table beside the bed and turned a serious eye onto Cloud, saying gently, "whatever's rushin' through that head o' yours, can we talk about it?" an awkward smile, "I kinda thought you'd be happier to see me~"

LOL COCKBLOCKED

[saintsoldier]

"No, c'mon," Zax pushed up from the bed and walked over to him slowly, resting a hand against the back of his arm, coming to stand directly behind him and tugging on his sleeve gently.

It had to be hard. He could only picture it from his own point of view, but from what he remembered, Cloud watching him shot=-up to a pulp had been enough to jerk him out of his mako-enduced stupor. He remembered the other had leaned over him, eyes still slightly vacant, but with hints of worry in them, like someone who didn't understand exactly what was going on, but knew it was still bad. He'd spoken. Called his name and mimicked his words. The last thing Zax remembered before the darkness was the beginnings of a scream.

"I'm sorry... I just left you like that," he murmured, "and I dunno what's goin' on here... but as long as I'm back for good, I don't plan on doin' it again."

I know I put the Key To Your -Heart- somewhere... *searches pockets*

[saintsoldier]

He chuckled softly... some things definitely hadn't changed. He couldn't count the times Cloud had called him 'idiot'. "I only say stupid things because you make it all so difficult," he teased back, giving his arm a light pat then moving away to give him some space.
Cloud wasn't so good on confrontations, on everything being explained or talked about all at once. It always had to be a gradual thing with him, and even though Zax was itching to ask this and that and everything, he had a little more sense than that.

"It's weird," he called across the room, starting to rummage around, seeing a few bags and a small chest of drawers and deciding he'd try to find a pair of clothes if he could (Walking around in his SOLDIER uniform was possibly turning more heads than his hair and eyes were), "I was real surprised to see how much you'd grown, but I've got this weird feelin' I've seen you like this before too, like deja-vu you know?"

... son of a bitch! D8

[saintsoldier]

What, so I'm not allowed to apologise but you are?" Zax smiled a little to himself, thoughtfully, as he fished out a tunic top that looked roughly about his side, possibly too big, but a belt could easily fix that. It was a faded blue-grey, with frayed edges and an attempted little hand-sewn pattern at the cuffs and collar that looked like they'd been sewn by a seven-year-old, but it would do. At least as a peasant he wouldn't attract as much attention.

He dug further into the sack that seemed to have a small collection of pants. what had Cloud done, gone and dug through everyone's old clothes? He couldn't imagine this place having a thrift store.

"Anyway," he continued, trying to stop the air in the room from being so heavy, "we're in some kinda other world that's all old fashioned, and whatever brought us here can bring people back from the dead. I think we're both allowed ta be a little under of what to do- aha, pants!"

Some dark brown ones respectively, that seemed his size. He draped them along with the tunic shirt over the front of the chest and began to undress from his uniform, somewhat eager to be rid of the thing.

ONLY YOUR SOUL~

[saintsoldier]

Cloud; instilling fear in the hearts of the commonfolk. Zax chuckled gently to himself at the other's words, grabbing the belts form his uniform pants for his new pair.

"I kinda gathered they din' like the look of weirdos like you an' me." he remarked whilst slipping the tunic on over his head. The linen was rough and crisp, like it had been washed recently. "I hope you don't go around gettin' into fights too much," we all know how good you are at that.

The sleeves of the tunic were a big short, other than that everything was comfortable. He rolled them up to his elbows, turned to Cloud and spread his arms with an amused grin. "So, what do you think? Do I look like a peasant or what?"