Moogle-san. IDEK. But...I think this qualifies. :D?rosethornliDecember 28 2009, 03:08:59 UTC
"Sora?" Goofy called, loudly, followed by Donald's grumbing. They'd been looking for him all day; it was nice to visit Radient Garden after a few weeks away, but that didn't mean he had to wonder off. From the market to the castle, they'd been calling, and not even Aerith had seen him. Now they were the gardens (still under construction, because Radient Garden was recovering in small but noticeable movements), the last place anyone would think to look
( ... )
Final Fantasy VII...Cloud doesn't really like christmas (long standing history of angst) and Zack (and/or Sephiroth if you so wish) try to make him feel better about it.
It's the bite of claws that wake him from wherever he's gone. A dark shape crouches near, blotting out the brightness of the sun, and only when he blinks does Cloud realize it is a man. There's a dull ache in his temple, a steady, pounding throb, and he moves to ease it with a hand.
The glint of light on metal startles him; the man is letting go, moving away, and before Cloud can even think he's reaching out and stopping him. After a glance between the hand clutching at him (a slight widening of shock that Cloud catches only by focusing on nothing else) and the face peering bleary-eyed up at him, and red eyes come to rest on his, undemanding in their cautious question. He meets them bearily, still adjusting to- something. Those red, glowing eyes are more real than the world slowly taking shape in the background.
"Vincent," he says, because Cloud doesn't know where he is or how who-what-and-when he got there, and having someone else explain is better than thinking of what could have happened. A pause; his voice is rusty (why?), and
( ... )
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I am a sucker for fluff and happy endings.
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*hands out virtual gingerbread cookies*
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The glint of light on metal startles him; the man is letting go, moving away, and before Cloud can even think he's reaching out and stopping him. After a glance between the hand clutching at him (a slight widening of shock that Cloud catches only by focusing on nothing else) and the face peering bleary-eyed up at him, and red eyes come to rest on his, undemanding in their cautious question. He meets them bearily, still adjusting to- something. Those red, glowing eyes are more real than the world slowly taking shape in the background.
"Vincent," he says, because Cloud doesn't know where he is or how who-what-and-when he got there, and having someone else explain is better than thinking of what could have happened. A pause; his voice is rusty (why?), and ( ... )
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Enjoy the rest of 2009!
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