Hang On
Characters: Cloud Strife. Open to anyone else if they please.
Progress: Ongoing.
Summary: Cloud is just... being Cloud.
Location: Lindblum.
Date: September 9th, 1804.
Warnings: Cloud's angst.
It had been a week. Shouldn't he have heard from her by now? It was always a week the first time, he'd seen that, he'd learnt that from watching the time between someone announcing a death to the deceased returning. It was always a week. Then more time passed between each death. So, where was she? Where were they? Tifa and Lightning, even Celes and Queen Garnet. They should be here...
Cloud sighed, watching the end of the hunt. He'd been scheduled to fight in that, he and Zack had plans to compete against each other more than the rest of the crowd, but he didn't want to anymore. It had just been for fun when they'd talked about it, but where was the fun in it now? The woman he loved was gone, the girl he looked to as a sister was gone... what reason did he have for wanting to fight now? If he did it to release his anger, he probably wouldn't stop at just the monsters and then where would he be? Probably locked up like they'd done to Rinoa or, even worse or maybe better, he'd be dead. That sounded like a promising thought. Dead, with Tifa and Lightning, where Aerith and Zack should be.
He shook his head at himself, shifting where he was sat, away from the battles. He'd brought the kids along, welcomed Barret too. What good would he be to anyone if he was dead? Really, it was a little morbid to be thinking that way, though it wouldn't be the first time he'd wished it on himself.
The blonde watched a few more moments of the battles. It was tiring watching other people fight. No matter how they fought, how good they were, he always picked out the little things he would have done differently or quicker. He did it with his own team, though he kept comments to himself because it usually ended up in an argument. AVALANCHE were easy to argue, always so hot-headed with each other, and without Aerith there was one less member to cool the flames when everyone got together. Not that they did that much anymore. Everyone had their own thing to do, and that usually meant barely speaking. It wasn't just here, on this planet that it was like that, but at home too.
Cloud stood, his sword deep in the holder he wore on his back, hands hung at his sides. Really, to anyone who knew him well enough, they'd ay he was possitively hunched with the weight of his anger and depression. He didn't stand as straight as he normally did, instead his shoulders slumped forward and his head hung. He knew he loved Tifa, but to learn that she had this much affect on him just by not being there had been a surprising thought for Cloud. He wondered if he'd been just the same when Aerith had died, knowing his mind had broken after Zack.
He turned to walk, hands eventually finding his pockets, despite how he could hear his mother demanding he take his hands out of his pockets and stop slouching. Maybe he needed some company, someone to talk to, to stop himself from being so maudlin and depressed. Not that it had ever worked in the past.
Progress: Ongoing.
Summary: Cloud is just... being Cloud.
Location: Lindblum.
Date: September 9th, 1804.
Warnings: Cloud's angst.
It had been a week. Shouldn't he have heard from her by now? It was always a week the first time, he'd seen that, he'd learnt that from watching the time between someone announcing a death to the deceased returning. It was always a week. Then more time passed between each death. So, where was she? Where were they? Tifa and Lightning, even Celes and Queen Garnet. They should be here...
Cloud sighed, watching the end of the hunt. He'd been scheduled to fight in that, he and Zack had plans to compete against each other more than the rest of the crowd, but he didn't want to anymore. It had just been for fun when they'd talked about it, but where was the fun in it now? The woman he loved was gone, the girl he looked to as a sister was gone... what reason did he have for wanting to fight now? If he did it to release his anger, he probably wouldn't stop at just the monsters and then where would he be? Probably locked up like they'd done to Rinoa or, even worse or maybe better, he'd be dead. That sounded like a promising thought. Dead, with Tifa and Lightning, where Aerith and Zack should be.
He shook his head at himself, shifting where he was sat, away from the battles. He'd brought the kids along, welcomed Barret too. What good would he be to anyone if he was dead? Really, it was a little morbid to be thinking that way, though it wouldn't be the first time he'd wished it on himself.
The blonde watched a few more moments of the battles. It was tiring watching other people fight. No matter how they fought, how good they were, he always picked out the little things he would have done differently or quicker. He did it with his own team, though he kept comments to himself because it usually ended up in an argument. AVALANCHE were easy to argue, always so hot-headed with each other, and without Aerith there was one less member to cool the flames when everyone got together. Not that they did that much anymore. Everyone had their own thing to do, and that usually meant barely speaking. It wasn't just here, on this planet that it was like that, but at home too.
Cloud stood, his sword deep in the holder he wore on his back, hands hung at his sides. Really, to anyone who knew him well enough, they'd ay he was possitively hunched with the weight of his anger and depression. He didn't stand as straight as he normally did, instead his shoulders slumped forward and his head hung. He knew he loved Tifa, but to learn that she had this much affect on him just by not being there had been a surprising thought for Cloud. He wondered if he'd been just the same when Aerith had died, knowing his mind had broken after Zack.
He turned to walk, hands eventually finding his pockets, despite how he could hear his mother demanding he take his hands out of his pockets and stop slouching. Maybe he needed some company, someone to talk to, to stop himself from being so maudlin and depressed. Not that it had ever worked in the past.