Vishous knew a soldier when he saw one. He was one too, in a way. But warriors would always be different to soldiers. Still, he was damn curious.
The tall man gestured to Zack with his gloved hand, that of which was wrapped around the neck of a half empty bottle of Grey Goose. For a drunk, Vishous seemed pretty normal. "First Class, huh? What's the difference between you and a normal soldier?"
"Mostly just ranking, status, credibility, loyalty... that kind of thing." I rub the back of my head, a bit embarrassed. This guy looks like he knows the trade, for all that he smells like the back end of a Turk bar. "I really only got promoted because two other first class SOLDIERs defected."
He tilted his head. Well, that was interesting to know.
"Want to know your future, kid?" Now that he had his mojo back, he figured he may as well start using it. All the dreams he'd been having lately were of his own death and he needed a way to distract himself. Hence the alcohol.
He reached into his trenchcoat and fished out a hand-rolled cigarette and a golden zippo.
"Don't have much of one, being dead and all," I say, watching him carefully. He looks like the kind of guy they let into the Turks to do all the really dirty work.
Vincent frowned. SOLDIERs used to always out source to the Turks. It drove Vincent insane, at the time.
That was another story, however.
First Sephiroth and now another SOLDIER? This was...too much of a coincidence. He held back, watched the two SOLDIERs interact, then approached when he thought it safe. "Fair," he said, narrowing his eyes in silent thought. The name was familiar. He wasn't sure why. "You'd best keep your distance from Sephiroth."
Yeah, he knew him alright. Sephiroth was...well, the similarities between them kind of spoke for itself. It took him a moment to reply. "I was part of the team that stopped him from destroying the Planet."
He crossed his arms over his chest, clawed hand on the outside, just in case.
"Are you a medic of some sort, then?" Acorna tilts her head curiously. "It's not exactly common for military types to offer medical supplies as their bribe." Not that she was complaining, of course, but it struck her as being a little odd.
I smile at the pretty... lady? Well, odd features notwithstanding, she kind of gives off this aura of nice, like Aerith does. Did.
"No, SOLDIER operatives often work solo in the field, so keeping medical supplies on us is wiser than just depending on Cure materia." I shrug. "Can't tell you how many times a judiciously used Phoenix Down saved my life." INnmy defense, I'd been stuck in a test tube for four years, so the last few potions I had wouldn't have kept me alive much longer, at the end.
"Materia? Phoenix Down...?" Acorna shook her head, shrugging a little sheepishly. "I'm afraid I'm not familiar with those terms. They relate to healing in some way?" Although she had little use for most healing magic or technology, Acorna had to admit she was more than a little curious.
"Ah, sorry. Materia is made from Mako, which is solid mineral deposits from collections of the lifestream, the life force of the planet I come from. It's used to channel energy into different kinds of magic, some for curing, some for offense or defense, even to help people learn specific skills," like stealing, I remember sourly, though that kid was only trying to do good on his mom.
"Phoenix Down is a special item that allows the body to heal and revive completely if you're knocked out and near death. I'm not exactly sure if it's actually made from phoenix feathers, since I've only ever seen someone summon it once."
I frown back, confused. "Well, if I go into a situation where it's kill or capture, I'd prefer to capture. I have to kill a lot in my line of work, and I try to keep it at a minimum if I can."
"Eeh, kind of," I scratch my head, unsure how to explain. "Sometimes, even during peace time, there are forces at work that force the hand of the company I worked for. Even people within our own ranks caused trouble."
"Oh hello there, soldier boy!" The Sorting Hat swooped down from someplace it wasn't a moment before, and performed a flirty little pirouette in the air before Zack. "Such a nice head of hair you have there, all those cute little spikes. . . how about you tell me about this Chocobo Bill's Chococheese, and I'll just make myself comfortable on that pretty head of yours."
I'm not a hundred percent sure, but I think the hat is coming on to me. "Um. The Chocobo Bill stuff was kind of a misguided attempt at making cheese from chocobo milk." And since it's kind of impossible to milk a bird, I can only try not to imagine where it actually comes from.
The Sorting Hat was unquestionably coming onto Zack, or perhaps more accurately, his hair. "Don't worry, cutie. I'll sit gently. I wouldn't want to muss all those little spiky bits," it told him as it lowered itself onto his head, Zack having failed to express any disinclination for his hair to play host to a Hat of questionable intentions. "Ooooh, those are nice," it remarked as it settled down.
"Oh really? That's fascinating!" the Hat remarked. "What does it taste like? And what is a chocobo?" Its interest wasn't entirely feigned, as the Hat did have curiosity about the cheese- it was just enjoying the tickle of Zack's hair beneath its crown a bit more.
I'm starting to feel a little uncomfortable, which is weird considering I had sex with someone on the very desk at which I was sitting, but I'm being hit on by a hat and that's just... well, weird.
"It tastes kind of like gritty fat," I say of the cheese, trying not to squirm as the hat makes itself comfortable on my head. "Chocobos are giant, flightless birds. We usually ride or race them. Chocobo Bill is just kind of... um, obsessive."
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The tall man gestured to Zack with his gloved hand, that of which was wrapped around the neck of a half empty bottle of Grey Goose. For a drunk, Vishous seemed pretty normal. "First Class, huh? What's the difference between you and a normal soldier?"
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"Want to know your future, kid?" Now that he had his mojo back, he figured he may as well start using it. All the dreams he'd been having lately were of his own death and he needed a way to distract himself. Hence the alcohol.
He reached into his trenchcoat and fished out a hand-rolled cigarette and a golden zippo.
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That was another story, however.
First Sephiroth and now another SOLDIER? This was...too much of a coincidence. He held back, watched the two SOLDIERs interact, then approached when he thought it safe. "Fair," he said, narrowing his eyes in silent thought. The name was familiar. He wasn't sure why. "You'd best keep your distance from Sephiroth."
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"Know him?" I ask, almost dreading the answer. Who knows what Seph got up to, who he pissed off (or killed) in the three year gap.
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He crossed his arms over his chest, clawed hand on the outside, just in case.
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But wait, was that what he meant when he said...
"Did..." it hurts to ask, but I have to. "Did you know Aerith?"
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"No, SOLDIER operatives often work solo in the field, so keeping medical supplies on us is wiser than just depending on Cure materia." I shrug. "Can't tell you how many times a judiciously used Phoenix Down saved my life." INnmy defense, I'd been stuck in a test tube for four years, so the last few potions I had wouldn't have kept me alive much longer, at the end.
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"Phoenix Down is a special item that allows the body to heal and revive completely if you're knocked out and near death. I'm not exactly sure if it's actually made from phoenix feathers, since I've only ever seen someone summon it once."
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"Define 'kill unnecessarily,' please?" she asked quietly.
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"Um. The Chocobo Bill stuff was kind of a misguided attempt at making cheese from chocobo milk." And since it's kind of impossible to milk a bird, I can only try not to imagine where it actually comes from.
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"Oh really? That's fascinating!" the Hat remarked. "What does it taste like? And what is a chocobo?" Its interest wasn't entirely feigned, as the Hat did have curiosity about the cheese- it was just enjoying the tickle of Zack's hair beneath its crown a bit more.
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"It tastes kind of like gritty fat," I say of the cheese, trying not to squirm as the hat makes itself comfortable on my head. "Chocobos are giant, flightless birds. We usually ride or race them. Chocobo Bill is just kind of... um, obsessive."
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