ADVENTtire . Traverse Town . Completed
Illogically, sleep was peaceful. For once in this town Cloud had gotten a decent amount of rest with no interruption. There were no odd lucid dreams about his own experiences for once, and from some loophole in good karma that meant no dreams about chairs. Instead he woke up well rested, albeit a little bit disoriented as it took him a second to
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He averted his gaze, the colors going frantic once again, and he was eventually able to discern a hazy gray figure towing over him. The next thing he knew, the figure was shuffling around, and he was being bombarded with a fistful of rocks. He tried to move, but he was paralyzed, trapped to the ground.
Then, out of seemingly nowhere, the figure raised a chair over his head, disturbingly more vivid and lucid than everything else in the dream. It was rather large. The base was made of shimmering gold adorned with precious gems, and the cushion was thick red velvet - pure royalty. It escaped the figure’s grasp, ready to connect with his flesh.
Falling. Inches away now. It was going to crush him.
He tried to make some feeble move to brace himself, to deflect it, dodge it, anything, but he was still frozen in place. He was powerless against it.
Black. All around. Swallowing him whole.
He woke up sometime later, muscles sore, mind foggy, and body half slumped over a pile of munny that hadn’t been there before. He scribbled a few drowsy notes in his journal, but he decided that it was proving to be too much of a task. He also contemplated going back to the hotel, but in the end, sleep won out, and he once again passed out in the waterway.
When he woke up again, all that registered in his field of vision was in a pair of luminescent eyes scanning him over. His immediate response was to throw himself back and flood his mind with a string of curses, because god dammit, he should have been on much better guard than that. He was already in something of a defensive position (though not yet off the ground) and running through some plans of attack before reality so conveniently decided to bitch-slap him and tell him, “That’s Cloud, you idiot.”
He visibly relaxed, and found himself slumping right back over onto the ground. “Man, don’t do that. You scared the crap out of me.”
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Instead of explaining himself Cloud stood to his vertical disposition once more, tossing his red scarf over his shoulder to keep it out of the way. Since Zell was conveniently up, might as well say what he hadn't yesterday. Straight to the point without hesitation. "I wanted to say thanks before I left." Oh. Right. Had to be direct with Zell. So rather haphazardly, Cloud sloppily pointed to his sword.
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“That? No sweat.” He shrugged dismissively. Retrieving a sword from atop a cabinet wasn’t really that big of a deal, after all, even if it was an attack cabinet from hell.
As time progressed and he became more awake, he began to become aware of the general lack of contents in his stomach. Considering how long the “days” in Traverse this far had proven to be, that just wasn’t very acceptable. Though he had to admit that is more of an appetite for food than genuine hunger.
“I need a snack or something,” he announced. “You wanna come along?” After all, they were now partners, thanks to Aerith. They might as well get used to each other.
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Even when Zell started talking out loud to himself about food, Cloud just sort of brushed the matter off and started for the entrance. It came as a surprise that he was invited out to join him on this little snack quest. Pausing, he tossed a perplexed look back at Zell.
Other than the few people he had known for years on end, others outside that small circle didn’t exactly invite him out for anything. If they did, Cloud would usually pass up the chance with a simply flick of the hair and a simple 'I think I’ll pass' to follow up.
With the natural degree of hesitancy, Cloud eventually agreed with a slight nod, "Sure." Could use a trip to go and get something to eat outside of being cooped up in here. "I could use something to eat."
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“Oh, yeah!” He gave the air a good few punches
Today was going well already. He was feeling-well rested and completely reenergized, ready to take anything the world threw at him. He was a bit sore from sleeping on the ground, but it was far from intolerable. There was also that weird as hell dream, but that was shoved to the back of his mind. Better to forget about it. Those thoughts in mind, he began to walk towards the café.
“I’m still banned from the café,” he mentioned, more to himself than anything, “but oh well. That old scrooge will get over it.”
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Following a small pivot Cloud walked at a slightly slower pace than the other blonde; making sure there was a good arms length between the two. 'Banned?' Oh. Right. Zell had informed him about that small quarrel with the red haired Turk that almost ended in a bomb-fire on the previous day; if he needed something at the café, and was only banned because he refused to steal from it in the first place, he could just make sure that Zell got what he needed. No big deal. Doubtful that a bartender would be willing to waste another bottle of whatever liquor to get rid of Zell a second time.
"There are other places aside the café where you could get food." It was an assumption, a fair one, considering the ratio of people versus stores, there had to be more than one around this place. Item shops, at best, could sell food as well. "If you really need something there, I can make sure you get it."
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“I don’t know where anything else is, unless maybe you do,” he shrugged, leisurely taking the newfound bridge out of the waterway. The air was warm and blanketed by a layer of humidity. “Thanks for the help, man. I appreciate it,” he said honestly.
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Honestly, Cloud didn't know where many things in the town was either. He’d done rather well to find the Waterway beforehand only because of dim logic being on his side for a change. Actually, from what he'd seen of Traverse Town, Cloud had to give a mystified look at the other blonde. "I have a.. rough idea where some things are." Why? Well. He'd be sure to point out that large neon sign that said 'item shop' where, logically, the item shop was. Since Zell seemed a rather.. Gifted fellow who didn’t notice things right off, perhaps he could casually toss that in the conversation somewhere down the line.
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He gave a shrug at the next comment, and continued walking, figuring if Cloud knew somewhere they could go, he’d lead the way. His brain was disturbingly silent as he walked. There really wasn’t much there aside from the echoes of his boots. That became perhaps a little too apparent when he about ran smack into a large wooden crate. Wiping the surprise off his face as fast as he could, he scaled it, as though he had meant to do that in the first place.
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It was probably by pure luck alone that a steady stream of few people were leaking out of another district, therefore, Cloud just followed them in hopes that it would lead to somewhere worthwhile. While looking like he was leading, the blonde followed to where these people were coming from-turned out to be some kind of bar. How lucky.
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There were a few tables, but most of them were empty. A few obvious drunks hunched over in the corners, talking in obnoxiously loud voices to each other. Towards the center of the room there was a man by himself. He sported layered brown hair with an almost pinkish hue to it, and his expression clearly read, “Look the hell away or I might just stab you.” The barstools, oddly enough, were unoccupied. The bar itself gave a slightly blueish glow, and behind it was a man with spiky red hair that looked oddly familiar. In fact, he looked like -
Oh, hell no.
He froze angrily in place, and without so much as one word, he turned on his heels and began to walk away - straight into Cloud. Before he could ask what the hell his problem was, he jerked his head to the bar in order to get him to take a look. This was just lovely.
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Instead of concentrating on what was in the bar, Cloud made it a point to first get some comfortable space between Zell and himself. Not hard to accomplish with a solid step away and further close to the bar instead of away from it. With an about face, he scanned the scenery. A few scattered people-then there was the bartend. The soldier slowly turned his head to Zell with that "Guh" expression on his face.
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Too late to go anywhere. They'd been spotted. WheetWheet.
Reno went about his business, shuffling about behind the counter for something until he retrieved a small bucket, dustpan, and broom. "....And pointy blonde kid," He added. "hurry and clean the place up will ya? Since it’s all you’re good at." Passively, like he remembered no incidents beforehand with Zell, the three things were set on the counter, "But if ya find a way to suck at that, Hot dog kid can help you." Incompetence aiding incompetence made sense.
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Well, whatever. They were here, they were noticed, and he was hungry, so it would be stupid to leave now. So he dragged himself to a table, away from the rest of the people in the bar and plopped down on a chair.
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