shared dreams (and nightmares...) ☼ it's all about the sexy lingerie.
(This is...
Wrong way.)
Cloud stops short of the next bend in the hazy, dimly lit hall, the sound of the soles of his bare feet on the slickly polished floor coming up just as abruptly in his wake. Everything here echoes a little, but he isn't bothered by the eerie effect so much as the fact that it'll give away his approach and totally eliminate whatever pretense of the element of surprise is still on his side. And that could seriously hurt his chances of getting in and out of here, again, undetected, if he doesn't start taking a little more care.
A pair of socks might have been a sensible acquisition, at that -- one he probably should've thought of before getting himself into this mess, in the first place. But he'd been a little too preoccupied with the rest of his meticulously thorough disguise to worry about something so seemingly inconsequential, at the time.
And now, of course, it's much too late to turn back.
Metaphorically, anyway. Retracing his steps to the last intersection of corridors he'd passed, Cloud pauses to peer around the corner. Visibility is low, with that thick fog of perfume hanging in the air between splashes of low lantern light, but there's only dead silence to greet him and the coast looks clear enough that he risks stepping out into the open.
(Now, which one...?)
He takes a right, and is met with what's beginning to pass for luck, in these dire times, as the length of the hall is the short jaunt he remembers, ending with a large door that's still slightly ajar. Brighter light pours through the cracks, and Cloud hesitates again, cautious, before slipping back out into the open, octagonal foyer. He counts up the doors; that's three he's been through, already, and still no sign...
Shaking his head, he turns to try the next exit, crossing quietly as possible over the bright gold and blue mural lain into the gridlined glass floor. Maybe this isn't the best possible method of searching the place
(It's... A lot bigger than I thought.)
but he doesn't exactly have a lot of options, and as possible as it is that he's running out of time -- well, he just doesn't want to think about that. Just focus on the objective, not the circumstances, isn't that the only way to get through this? He reaches for the door latch with this newfound resolve
only to stop short once more, pivoting back on his heel and swiping the massive Buster Sword off his back in one neat, fluid motion. Scanning the shadows lurking beyond the shifting, smoky miasma filling the room over the tip of the blade, his eyes narrow sharply as he searches out the source of that soft, shuffling sound, eventually catching on a solid silhouette amidst the murk. A little flicker of surprise breaks through the severity of the frown furrowing his brow, and he's quick to lower his weapon, down and to the side, with care.
"You're here--" That touch of incredulity is for all the trouble he's gone through just to have serendipity finish the job for him. So much for the rescue half of search and rescue.
But maybe now's a good time to address his current state of... Undress.
(Uh)
"...Had to ditch the disguise."
For a man in nothing but an ill-fitting bangle, an earring, and a charmingly ruffled, bright pink babydoll over a pair of matching bikini-cut briefs that barely manage to be modest, altogether, he's certainly managing that air of importance with aplomb. For just how long he'll be able to maintain the façade is... Another matter entirely.
[ ooc: This post is primarily for morethanwords, because she's an enabler. But if anyone else is interested in tagging in, feel free. Canonmates are the best (except Sephiroths, sorry :<), & characters approximately Cloud's age (21) or over only, please. The "usual no"s apply, with the addition of no non or dub con (fudging CR for this is cool). Admittedly, I'm a little picky about writing smut with just anybody, but the surest path to my heart is long, thoughtful, descriptive posts and a lot of good build-up. ...And patience with my slow tagging speed. That, too.
So fuzzy dream logic and crossdressing everywhere, that's the name of the game. Cloud's subconscious is taking a (Hotel-induced) crazy mixed-up trip down memory lane and he's dragged someone else's along for the ride. Since the scenery and tone of the dream can change on a whim, I fully expect this post to get weird all over it, and I leave it up to individual discretion how much influence other characters have over their surroundings. ]
Wrong way.)
Cloud stops short of the next bend in the hazy, dimly lit hall, the sound of the soles of his bare feet on the slickly polished floor coming up just as abruptly in his wake. Everything here echoes a little, but he isn't bothered by the eerie effect so much as the fact that it'll give away his approach and totally eliminate whatever pretense of the element of surprise is still on his side. And that could seriously hurt his chances of getting in and out of here, again, undetected, if he doesn't start taking a little more care.
A pair of socks might have been a sensible acquisition, at that -- one he probably should've thought of before getting himself into this mess, in the first place. But he'd been a little too preoccupied with the rest of his meticulously thorough disguise to worry about something so seemingly inconsequential, at the time.
And now, of course, it's much too late to turn back.
Metaphorically, anyway. Retracing his steps to the last intersection of corridors he'd passed, Cloud pauses to peer around the corner. Visibility is low, with that thick fog of perfume hanging in the air between splashes of low lantern light, but there's only dead silence to greet him and the coast looks clear enough that he risks stepping out into the open.
(Now, which one...?)
He takes a right, and is met with what's beginning to pass for luck, in these dire times, as the length of the hall is the short jaunt he remembers, ending with a large door that's still slightly ajar. Brighter light pours through the cracks, and Cloud hesitates again, cautious, before slipping back out into the open, octagonal foyer. He counts up the doors; that's three he's been through, already, and still no sign...
Shaking his head, he turns to try the next exit, crossing quietly as possible over the bright gold and blue mural lain into the gridlined glass floor. Maybe this isn't the best possible method of searching the place
(It's... A lot bigger than I thought.)
but he doesn't exactly have a lot of options, and as possible as it is that he's running out of time -- well, he just doesn't want to think about that. Just focus on the objective, not the circumstances, isn't that the only way to get through this? He reaches for the door latch with this newfound resolve
only to stop short once more, pivoting back on his heel and swiping the massive Buster Sword off his back in one neat, fluid motion. Scanning the shadows lurking beyond the shifting, smoky miasma filling the room over the tip of the blade, his eyes narrow sharply as he searches out the source of that soft, shuffling sound, eventually catching on a solid silhouette amidst the murk. A little flicker of surprise breaks through the severity of the frown furrowing his brow, and he's quick to lower his weapon, down and to the side, with care.
"You're here--" That touch of incredulity is for all the trouble he's gone through just to have serendipity finish the job for him. So much for the rescue half of search and rescue.
But maybe now's a good time to address his current state of... Undress.
(Uh)
"...Had to ditch the disguise."
For a man in nothing but an ill-fitting bangle, an earring, and a charmingly ruffled, bright pink babydoll over a pair of matching bikini-cut briefs that barely manage to be modest, altogether, he's certainly managing that air of importance with aplomb. For just how long he'll be able to maintain the façade is... Another matter entirely.
[ ooc: This post is primarily for morethanwords, because she's an enabler. But if anyone else is interested in tagging in, feel free. Canonmates are the best (except Sephiroths, sorry :<), & characters approximately Cloud's age (21) or over only, please. The "usual no"s apply, with the addition of no non or dub con (fudging CR for this is cool). Admittedly, I'm a little picky about writing smut with just anybody, but the surest path to my heart is long, thoughtful, descriptive posts and a lot of good build-up. ...And patience with my slow tagging speed. That, too.
So fuzzy dream logic and crossdressing everywhere, that's the name of the game. Cloud's subconscious is taking a (Hotel-induced) crazy mixed-up trip down memory lane and he's dragged someone else's along for the ride. Since the scenery and tone of the dream can change on a whim, I fully expect this post to get weird all over it, and I leave it up to individual discretion how much influence other characters have over their surroundings. ]
