(Untitled)

[naiad_burial]

It doesn't look like the bar in Nibelheim. The lights are dim, but the diffused golden glow ebbs against her warm hazel eyes, reflecting from polished mahogany table tops. They are frequently used, wiped down, worn and care for, unlike the others. Lashes half-lidded from sleep and squinting, the woman only imagines how a child might appear, waking

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[dontloselight]

Cloud had simply been passing by, on his way to get something to eat while he was on his break from another hard day's work of clearing areas of debris when a word caught his attention.

It is one single word he'd heard before from a friend of his - well, someone who might have been a friend of his, had he remembered any of his past.

Nibelheim.

He pauses right there, to her left, head cast down. And then he looks up, eyes studying her briefly.

"...you said Nibelheim."

[naiad_burial]

Her thoughts were loud enough to be heard. The boy had been so quiet that she had not heard him approach, or stop so close, until he actually speaks.

"So I did," Lucrecia doesn't argue. She turns so that she can face him, gathering her long snowy shawl into casually crossed arms. Prompts are often the beginnings of conversation. "It's an important place." As well as a somber one, a troubled one, a blissful and a tragic one.

"Are you from Nibelheim?" She doesn't know him, has never seen him in the country town. But all the same, he is more familiar than the bar itself.

[dontloselight]

"I don't ... know," he admits, and it is the truth if anything. "But I've heard of it. It does seem to be a place of importance."

Perhaps, even a place of answers.

[naiad_burial]

In a way, not knowing was just as intriguing as any other answer. It simply meant that it would have to be found.

"Very important," the woman reaffirms, accompanied by a nod. Years ago, decades ago really, she would not have wanted to talk of the place or have anything to do with it anymore. Now it was just a little bit different.

Pushing away or subduing the past would not change it.

"What have you heard of it? Could you tell me?" She wonders, going on. She casts her gaze toward the bar before back again, the notion of sitting them down and treating the young man to a drink through her mind. It was the least she could do for keeping him.

[dontloselight]

"Nothing else besides the name," he says. "Someone I know mentioned it to me."

She thought it would jog his memory. It only served to make him question even more.

"You know it well," he says. It could be interpreted as a question.

It doesn't even occur to him that she might have never seen Milliways before; she acts as though she's comfortable enough to be one of the usuals.

[naiad_burial]

"Oh, I see. " It was better than knowing nothing at all. If anything, it meant there were others here that knew of Nibelheim. Somewhere within the vicinity of this world, even.

And even if it doesn't jog his memory, it would hers.

"You could say that," she tells, or reassures, him. "Would you like to sit down and hear about it? Nibelheim."

[dontloselight]

He hesitates for a moment, wondering if it would do him any good to hear about a place he can't even begin to remember.

But that's what he wants, isn't it? To remember. He wants his past again, and if this woman knows about Nibelheim, a place that affected Tifa through even the mention of it, he wants to know about it.

He nods. "Yes."

[naiad_burial]

"All right, then." She's begun to smile, turning to lead the way toward the corner of the bar spotted moments earlier. It's a cozy sort of place, and company is appreciated

[dontloselight]

Cloud follows her, taking the nearest seat. He eagerly takes all of her words in, attempting to connect the images to any possible matching ones in his mind.

Yet still, he comes up with blanks. It is ... frustrating.

He always thought that a familiar face or a familiar story would click something in his mind, allow him to finally remember everything he feels he should have.

"Tell me more about the people," he suggests, not unkindly.

[naiad_burial]

"There's nothing especially peculiar about them." Lucrecia complied readily enough. "They're a small and close community. The peculiar ones are actually the visitors that go there. Especially if you're from a big city like Midgar. It's like going to another world, in a sense. Who needs outer space and other Planet's when one has so many cultures and nations on their own

[dontloselight]

That snaps him back into reality. He'd been so caught up trying to picture everything (trying to remember), that soon enough the only thing he was concentrating on was this woman, her voice, and her descriptions.

"I'll get us something," he offers. "The bar is sentient. Other times there are waitrats, and occasionally a tender will be available."

[naiad_burial]

"Sentient, hm?" She muses to herself fighting her skepticism. Never would she have believed in such a thing as inanimate as a place. But she trusts him well enough; he has been there longer by simply knowing what she did not. "Could we have coffee, then? No wait, black tea would be nicer." There was no deadline or project summary to finish by the next morning, five hours away.

"Don't struggle over the past too much," She offers more subtly, quietly, as she waits to see and watch him order. "It'll come, maybe gradually. Maybe not at all. But, the past has a way of haunting us. And even now, the memories you make will become a part of the past one day, too."

[dontloselight]

To order, he simply repeats what she said, one hand placed against the bar's shiny surface.

"Two cups of black tea," he says. A moment later, the order materializes from the tabletop, steaming and fragrant. "Your first one is free."

He has never heard - from anyone - that there was a possibility his memories might not return at all. It's ... surprising. (And yet, he almost appreciates the words.)

"If I remember, I might find some way to defeat my darkness," he explains. At least that is what he believes; it is why he is obsessed with trying to discover his past. "My ... light was stolen from me."

[naiad_burial]

The way the tea had just come into existence at a word was definitely surprising. Given where she was and all the unknowns therein, however, it was something she would simply need to take in stride and accept for the time being. There would be a time to find some sort of mechanism or explanation later, if one should exist. If anything she vaguely believes she should have ordered something a bit more elaborate for the first time. There is the question of currency thereafter, but for now she could not be bothered by it

[dontloselight]

Cloud takes a sip from his own cup of tea. Having visited Milliways often enough, the materialization of food and drink from the bar top no longer surprises him; it's all part of being here in the bar at the end of the universe.

"I can't be who I once was without my light," he begins, placing the cup down before him. "I am not ... whole."

He is a different person now than he was before he'd gotten his light stolen from him. He can't remember anything about how he came to be this person, but it's uncomfortable; it is not him. It is as though he is simply borrowing someone else's body.

"Something from my memories will tell me how to defeat my darkness; then I will know how to defeat him."

It hasn't occurred to Cloud that he is telling this woman - this stranger - something the people he knows have difficulty getting out of him. Somehow, with her genuine interest and her connection to Nibelheim, it makes it easier for him to talk. How long this will last, however, is another matter.

[naiad_burial]

She was really trying very hard to understand and piece together the ideas and concepts he shares with her. She understands that it's quite personal, almost urgent, and altogether uncomfortable-- the state he is in. To some level, she can relate.

"Light comes in many forms, I think. The way it sounds, from what I can follow, light may be either a memory or a person. Or both? If darkness is a he.. Could light be a counterpart that makes you feel whole?" She pauses to mull over the sounds of her words, wondering if her theories were sensible at all. The concepts seem intangible if they aren't people. Like many people she can relate and place from her past.

"I only hope that it can be recognized when you do find it. Your light. I wish I could say... I couldn't imagine what it would be like, being too late."