Declining Spirits -- Traverse Town [COMPLETE]
Heavy boots clumped loudly in a strong depiction of Zack's mood as he left the hotel room. It wasn't that he was angry, really. He was too tired to be angry. After getting so damned excited over Cloud, he was now feeling dejected and pessimistic, which was very uncharacteristic of him. To have been able to apologize to Leon about his bad behavior would have made him feel a bit better about himself, but the longer he was left alone, the worse he felt.
Traverse Town held a particularly cold wind that eternal night, causing him to suddenly wrap himself into a hug to warm his bare arms. He wasn't sure why the SOLDIER garb had consisted of a sleeveless top (with an additional overcoat that could be added during the colder months, which he had conveniently lost), but he was cursing the designer for it now.
Where the hell was Leon? He wanted to work on fixing up the waterway. Doing mindless hard labor would tire him out enough that he could collapse somewhere and perhaps he'd feel a bit better when he woke up. Right now, his mind was simply resorting to creating more and more negative energy, and that was consequently stirring things up in his heart.
Shit. That was no good. He knew that he could willingly delve himself into that dark weakness if he wasn't careful.
His wandering had brought him into the First District, which, while well-lighted, wasn't lifting his spirits any.
Speaking of spirits, however, he spotted the cafe and had to smirk. Maybe some alcohol would do him some good. Bleary-eyed, he paced over to the place and planted himself into one of the chairs, sprawling. He felt like he could have passed out right there, but he figured he'd get plastered first.
Did he even have any munny? Whatever. He'd worry about that later.
Traverse Town held a particularly cold wind that eternal night, causing him to suddenly wrap himself into a hug to warm his bare arms. He wasn't sure why the SOLDIER garb had consisted of a sleeveless top (with an additional overcoat that could be added during the colder months, which he had conveniently lost), but he was cursing the designer for it now.
Where the hell was Leon? He wanted to work on fixing up the waterway. Doing mindless hard labor would tire him out enough that he could collapse somewhere and perhaps he'd feel a bit better when he woke up. Right now, his mind was simply resorting to creating more and more negative energy, and that was consequently stirring things up in his heart.
Shit. That was no good. He knew that he could willingly delve himself into that dark weakness if he wasn't careful.
His wandering had brought him into the First District, which, while well-lighted, wasn't lifting his spirits any.
Speaking of spirits, however, he spotted the cafe and had to smirk. Maybe some alcohol would do him some good. Bleary-eyed, he paced over to the place and planted himself into one of the chairs, sprawling. He felt like he could have passed out right there, but he figured he'd get plastered first.
Did he even have any munny? Whatever. He'd worry about that later.