Nibelheim, Gaia, Thursday Fandom Time
It was a beautiful day, somewhere.
Down in the slums of Midgar, it was never really a beautiful day. The smog from the reactors was less thick down here than it was in the spinach-green mess from the sky above, but that didn't mean that the perpetual darkness didn't take its toll on the locals down below. Zack chuckled and shook his head. Okay, in fairness, the toll that it took didn't seem to touch this place. Where the rest of the slums of Midgar below were bathed in darkness and dust and decay, the church, the one that Aerith frequented in order to tend to the flowers, was always beautiful. He loved the quiet glittering world that spread out beneath him when he stood back and looked at what Aerith had created here, what Ino was helping to tend, all bright and yellow and vibrant.
The only flowers that grew in Midgar happened to be tended to by two of the most important ladies in Zack's life, these days. Ino and Aerith, who were sitting next to the flowers, discussing plans for propegating more in other places around the city. Midgar needed more flowers, that much was agreed upon, and Ino wanted to try taking some with her up to the Turks' floor of the ShinRa tower. There was some murmuring between the two girls, and they occasionally stole mischevious glances toward where Zack had been working on another take on the flower wagon that he'd promised he'd build for them.
The last one had been... well, it had wheels, and it held flowers, and it had kind of fallen apart. This next attempt was going to be prettier. Ribbons and a nice paint job and... he had big plans. The best flower wagon for the best girls.
He waved hello and they smiled brightly at him before getting back to their gardening, smears of dirt in their clothes. After a few more minutes of pulling weeds and pruning leaves, they started to braid flowers into each others' hair.
Zack laughed, an easy, effortless sound as he leaned back against the half-finished cart to watch. One of the wheels promptly wobbled, buckled, and sent the cart scooting backwards just far enough for Zack to topple backwards with a yelp, landing on the flat of his back and staring up at the one stray beam of sunlight that managed to find its way all the way down to the slums.
He smiled anyway. It hurt a little, sure, but the laughter of the girls made that worthwhile, too.
---
He awoke in a silent scream to a very different sort of laughter. A cold hand closed around his heart, and for a moment, he couldn't be certain if it was a hand in the literal sense, or that of the man who had been keeping Cloud and himself captive for...
For...
It was impossible to know how long they had been here, between the constant darkness and just how often he was dragged under, lulled into a mako sleep as lifestream wrapped around him, filled his lungs with liquid life and his mind with blurry dreams and vivid nightmares. Some moments, he saw friends, and while he told himself that the dark suits that occasionally drifted into his clouded vision were just figments of his imagination, the calm, low voice of a man he'd once trusted sometimes hit his ears in a way that figments never really did.
Maybe it had been months. He'd accept 'months.' Years meant that he'd been forgotten. Years meant that he'd failed Cloud entirely.
Years meant that there was no end in sight.
The laugh came again, pulled him out of the mako fog a little more abruptly than the one before it, and the dim light of the manor's basement glinted off of Hojo's glasses, that smile all too unnerving. Zack struggled, arms strapped down, leather over his chest binding him to the table as the voice that matched that laugh cut into his consciousness.
"You're no good for our copy experiments, SOLDIER," it crooned into the darkness, "but I think we can find some use for you nevertheless. Now, try to relax."
It was difficult to relax, Zack found, when he was putting so much energy into screaming.
[OOC: Establishy, naturally. This guy is gonna be hard to contact for a while, I'm afraid. BUT IT'S GOOD TO HAVE HIM BACK. Even if it's just to prove that I'm a horrible person.]
Down in the slums of Midgar, it was never really a beautiful day. The smog from the reactors was less thick down here than it was in the spinach-green mess from the sky above, but that didn't mean that the perpetual darkness didn't take its toll on the locals down below. Zack chuckled and shook his head. Okay, in fairness, the toll that it took didn't seem to touch this place. Where the rest of the slums of Midgar below were bathed in darkness and dust and decay, the church, the one that Aerith frequented in order to tend to the flowers, was always beautiful. He loved the quiet glittering world that spread out beneath him when he stood back and looked at what Aerith had created here, what Ino was helping to tend, all bright and yellow and vibrant.
The only flowers that grew in Midgar happened to be tended to by two of the most important ladies in Zack's life, these days. Ino and Aerith, who were sitting next to the flowers, discussing plans for propegating more in other places around the city. Midgar needed more flowers, that much was agreed upon, and Ino wanted to try taking some with her up to the Turks' floor of the ShinRa tower. There was some murmuring between the two girls, and they occasionally stole mischevious glances toward where Zack had been working on another take on the flower wagon that he'd promised he'd build for them.
The last one had been... well, it had wheels, and it held flowers, and it had kind of fallen apart. This next attempt was going to be prettier. Ribbons and a nice paint job and... he had big plans. The best flower wagon for the best girls.
He waved hello and they smiled brightly at him before getting back to their gardening, smears of dirt in their clothes. After a few more minutes of pulling weeds and pruning leaves, they started to braid flowers into each others' hair.
Zack laughed, an easy, effortless sound as he leaned back against the half-finished cart to watch. One of the wheels promptly wobbled, buckled, and sent the cart scooting backwards just far enough for Zack to topple backwards with a yelp, landing on the flat of his back and staring up at the one stray beam of sunlight that managed to find its way all the way down to the slums.
He smiled anyway. It hurt a little, sure, but the laughter of the girls made that worthwhile, too.
---
He awoke in a silent scream to a very different sort of laughter. A cold hand closed around his heart, and for a moment, he couldn't be certain if it was a hand in the literal sense, or that of the man who had been keeping Cloud and himself captive for...
For...
It was impossible to know how long they had been here, between the constant darkness and just how often he was dragged under, lulled into a mako sleep as lifestream wrapped around him, filled his lungs with liquid life and his mind with blurry dreams and vivid nightmares. Some moments, he saw friends, and while he told himself that the dark suits that occasionally drifted into his clouded vision were just figments of his imagination, the calm, low voice of a man he'd once trusted sometimes hit his ears in a way that figments never really did.
Maybe it had been months. He'd accept 'months.' Years meant that he'd been forgotten. Years meant that he'd failed Cloud entirely.
Years meant that there was no end in sight.
The laugh came again, pulled him out of the mako fog a little more abruptly than the one before it, and the dim light of the manor's basement glinted off of Hojo's glasses, that smile all too unnerving. Zack struggled, arms strapped down, leather over his chest binding him to the table as the voice that matched that laugh cut into his consciousness.
"You're no good for our copy experiments, SOLDIER," it crooned into the darkness, "but I think we can find some use for you nevertheless. Now, try to relax."
It was difficult to relax, Zack found, when he was putting so much energy into screaming.
[OOC: Establishy, naturally. This guy is gonna be hard to contact for a while, I'm afraid. BUT IT'S GOOD TO HAVE HIM BACK. Even if it's just to prove that I'm a horrible person.]