Desperate Times
Who: Cloud & Tifa
Status: Open
When: 6:30 pm
Where: 7th Heaven, Sector 4
What: Sitting around in bed really isn’t Cloud’s thing… even if it means resorting to desperate measures.
There were exactly 132 slats of wood that made up the roof of his bedroom, including the small cut off pieces in the corners and at the edges. He swore that he had counted them before at one point, but he couldn’t remember when. It was unimportant since he was forced to do it again just to keep himself from getting out of bed and wandering around.
He disliked being inactive. He couldn’t sleep anymore, and he was restless after that fight. He needed to be up and on his feet looking for the people that had stolen the WEAPON. He doubted that he would forgive himself if something had happened to Yuffie either.
Picking up his cell phone, Cloud flipped it open and moved through the options to the text message section. His fingers were poised over the keypad before he sighed and dropped it to his stomach. He wanted to text Yuffie, but it seemed to cheap. He was certain that she would have wanted to yell at him face-to-face for getting away safe and sound and Yuffie being left in the middle of the street. He flipped the cell phone closed for the twelfth time in the last two hours.
He only had one option at this point, and he hated the thought of it. It was times like these where he wished for the simplicity of a cure spell. No, the only curative item that he had was a potion, and they were both painful and didn’t do nearly enough. It would get him back on his feet though, and it was better than sitting around on his current thoughts as well.
Pushing himself up, he managed to get to his feet on the first try. He winced as the floor creaked under his weight and each time he had to put any margin of weight to his leg. He must have looked funny stumbling over to his dresser drawers, but he had lost a considerable amount of pride today so a little more couldn’t damage him too much. He only hoped that he wouldn’t bring Tifa down on him for being out of bed; she was only concerned for his safety and health.
Pulling the top drawer open, he peered into it. He pushed a few pairs of socks out of the way until the glimmering bottles of potions exposed themselves. He grabbed two for good measure and shoved his drawer closed, leaning on it as he investigated to see if he had a mega-potion on hand. It appeared not, but this was better than nothing.
Status: Open
When: 6:30 pm
Where: 7th Heaven, Sector 4
What: Sitting around in bed really isn’t Cloud’s thing… even if it means resorting to desperate measures.
There were exactly 132 slats of wood that made up the roof of his bedroom, including the small cut off pieces in the corners and at the edges. He swore that he had counted them before at one point, but he couldn’t remember when. It was unimportant since he was forced to do it again just to keep himself from getting out of bed and wandering around.
He disliked being inactive. He couldn’t sleep anymore, and he was restless after that fight. He needed to be up and on his feet looking for the people that had stolen the WEAPON. He doubted that he would forgive himself if something had happened to Yuffie either.
Picking up his cell phone, Cloud flipped it open and moved through the options to the text message section. His fingers were poised over the keypad before he sighed and dropped it to his stomach. He wanted to text Yuffie, but it seemed to cheap. He was certain that she would have wanted to yell at him face-to-face for getting away safe and sound and Yuffie being left in the middle of the street. He flipped the cell phone closed for the twelfth time in the last two hours.
He only had one option at this point, and he hated the thought of it. It was times like these where he wished for the simplicity of a cure spell. No, the only curative item that he had was a potion, and they were both painful and didn’t do nearly enough. It would get him back on his feet though, and it was better than sitting around on his current thoughts as well.
Pushing himself up, he managed to get to his feet on the first try. He winced as the floor creaked under his weight and each time he had to put any margin of weight to his leg. He must have looked funny stumbling over to his dresser drawers, but he had lost a considerable amount of pride today so a little more couldn’t damage him too much. He only hoped that he wouldn’t bring Tifa down on him for being out of bed; she was only concerned for his safety and health.
Pulling the top drawer open, he peered into it. He pushed a few pairs of socks out of the way until the glimmering bottles of potions exposed themselves. He grabbed two for good measure and shoved his drawer closed, leaning on it as he investigated to see if he had a mega-potion on hand. It appeared not, but this was better than nothing.