onepassingnight | 002. there's no place like home

Current Location: gaia, seventh heaven

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002. there's no place like home

It's one of those absolutely beautiful days when the sky outside is clear blue for a change instead of grey and the rain from the night before actually cleaned things instead of adding to the layer of grime. Outside, the people passing on the street don't seem quite as in a rush or beat down as usual and there's a feeling of faint relief in the air, almost as if you can inhale deeply and it will be okay. Down one of the quieter streets, there's a building with a sign over its front door that proudly proclaims itself to be Seventh Heaven. The door's locked and the sign on it reads 'closed'... but just to the side of the building, tucked away and private, is a little garage attached to the side of the building. That door is wide open to let the fresh spring air into its cramped interior.

It's a small space and a great deal of it is taken up with stacked boxes and bits and pieces of things that might be useful items or just might be junk. There's a washing machine and dryer tucked into one corner and that area is the only neat one in the entire place. A child's bike and a faded ball lay near the front of the open garage door. What takes up most of the space however is a monster of a motorcycle, glistening black as a beetle's shell after a rain storm and even parked it looks like speed on wheels. The air is full of the smell of oil and wax and a hint of gasoline. And there's a long, lean pair of legs sticking out from under the back of the bike where it's been cranked up, the soft sounds of metal on metal coming dimly from underneath. There's a tool chest nearby and a decent amount of dirty rags to show that this has been an ongoing process. Somewhere back through the closed door on the wall that connects this with the rest of the house the faint sound of a radio can be heard playing. The body attached to the legs under the bike might, or might not, be humming - poorly - snatches of whatever song it is that's playing.

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[There's an intruder. Quiet footsteps. The swish of a long, elegant gown; too soft to hear over the noise, likely.

She doesn't know why she's here, or how she got here, as she picks her way carefully through the garage. Finally, she calls out:]

I apologize for intruding. Is someone there?

[The girl, once seen, is instantly recognizable as Ami; all the same features and build and even the same dark hair. But somehow the eyes aren't unnaturally dark right now, the gown suits royalty out of a history book, and the sigil of planet Mercury on her forehead doesn't quite seem like a tattoo.]

Edited 2011-06-28 07:09 (UTC)

[he hears the rustle of fabric and it's not the soft leather of Tifa's clothes. It's not the kids because they move too fast to 'softly' anything. So he's already sliding out from under Fenrir on the dolly when she speaks. His blue eyes therefor move from her feet upward and he's already starting to look confused when his eyes finally hit her face. There's a pause. And a blink. And then he's sitting up, pulling a knee up so he can rest his arm over it as he asks:]

Ami?

Ami?

[For a moment, she looks confused. The name resounds inside her somehow, but she doesn't connect it to herself right now. It's not even her. Not yet. It's her next time.

Mercury stays where she is, a show of deference to the owner of the place she's unwittingly trespassed. She smooths out her expression, maintaining her dignity, every inch the girl born and bred to palaces and the life at court.]

Please allow me to introduce myself. I am the Princess Mercury. [She glances downward, but does not sink into the curtsy that might be expected in normal circumstances - not when she quietly notes she happens to be standing near a small oil stain on the floor.]

[he's got... he's got a princess. In his garage.

For a second his eyebrows go up and he's got to resist the urge to look around for Marlene - who would absolutely trample him to be able to see a real life princess. And - she is. There's no doubt about it. He's never seen a princess in his life but every inch of her, from the clothes to the way she holds herself to the look in her eyes... she's a princess all right.

A princess that looks exactly like a girl he's friends with.

So... twin? Or maybe a different side of her? Cloud's familiar enough with not being himself that he can fathom that a little.]

Sorry.

[he stands up, using the already dirty rag over his shoulder to wipe at his bare hands. The simple dark blue t-shirt he's wearing is just as holey and grease smeared.]

You look like someone I know. Is there something I can help you with?

[This is Mercury's past, an even deeper past than the child Cloud met once before. She smiles blandly, politely, ill at-ease despite herself in the unfamiliar surroundings and especially with an unfamiliar person.]

The truth is, I came here by accident. Could you-

[She falters; it's asking a lot of a stranger, and she's not sure what to ask for even if she could ask for help. Directions to a transporter? It was better, if he didn't seem to know who she was, not to reveal her ties to the Moon Kingdom. Not if this, as she suspected by its sheer difference, was Earth.]

Could you forgive my intrusion. Is it alright if I stay a little while? [Until she can figure out how to get back. She glances towards the motorcycle.] I would avoid interfering in your work, of course.

[not Earth. This is a planet that speaks for itself and if it has a chosen warrior... well, you're looking at him in all his slightly disheveled, ratty, oil smudged glory. Lucky planet.

Not to mention having a princess seeking shelter in his garage is an entirely new experience for him and he'll reach up to scratch at the back of his neck. His face doesn't change much and he'll nod, just a couple short dips of his chin.

She even has Ami's voice.

So he thinks he'd like to keep an eye on her too, just to make sure she's okay.]

Wait here.

[he goes into the house without waiting for a response, leaving the door between the garage and the hallway open. When he comes back he has one of Tifa's bar stools carefully held by the metal underside so he doesn't get grease on the seat and a couple bottles of cold water. All the water into Edge has to be imported if it's for drinking and by now it's second nature for him to carry it around. He'll set the stool down for her near the corner that's clean because it's Tifa's domain with the washer and dryer and then offer her one of the bottles of water.

Forgive him. He's forgotten that talking is a social expectation again.]

[Actually, it puts her at ease, a little bit; she's never been the most comfortable with social situations, possessed of a certain shyness that many mistake for hauteur.

She glances towards the seat and, understanding it to be meant for her, nods uncertainly. But instead of sitting down right away, she takes the bottle of water and manages a grateful smile.]

Thank you. You are a very gracious host. [Her eyes take in the disorganization of the garage's layout, particularly the tools. She feels a sudden urge to arrange them more efficiently, but she restrains herself at least for now.]

It must be wonderful to be a mechanic. [She's just a little off, really.] You can help people reach the far-off places they dream of visiting.

[his pale brows shift a little at her opinion of his hosting abilities. If he was a really good host, he'd set her up comfortably in the bar, not out in his cluttered garage. But no one but him is home to keep her entertained and he's got a delivery tomorrow so he needs to finish Fenrir today. He's pretty sure you're supposed to put princesses before deliveries... but try explaining that to the customers tomorrow.

One side of his lips twitch at her comment and there's a barely there head shake as he moves back to the bike. His hand reaches out automatically to stroke its fender, almost as if it's alive.]

This is just for me. I'm a delivery boy.

[A delivery boy? He's someone she never would have met, in her own world - in any sense of the term. It makes her a little... excited, if she's honest with herself; thrilled to see something she never would have otherwise. She smiles, and it's less timid this time. She covers the gesture by sipping at the water.

And it gives her the courage to follow her thoughts. She nods towards the tools and starts quietly.]

I think... if you laid them out a little different, it could go quicker. Easier. And then, you could start your next delivery sooner. [She draws near to demonstrate.]

[he blinks at the tool fixing suggestion. He just - kind of sets them down wherever. When he needs something he's generally got an idea of which pile it's in and then it's just sorting through the pile to find it.

Which is pretty much how he handles most 'piles' in his life, the paperwork upstairs on his desk being a prime example.

But she looks almost excited, in a quiet, polite kind of way and so he sits back down on the dolly next to his tools, setting aside his own water after he's taken a long pull of it and looks up at this princess in her fancy dress and unmarked skin that wants to sort through his greasy tools.]

How so?

I can show you. I would like to show you. I can put them back just as they were, if you dislike it.

[She reaches for the tools now that he's asked. Just by observing him for that brief time at his work, she's already determined which he reaches for most often, which are rarely used; the rare tools are quickly shuffled further away while the important ones are left right where he'll always have them at a short reach to get them. Everything ends up arranged with a mind to Cloud's own subconscious habits.

Of course, her hands come away with grease-marks, but aside from subtly keeping herself from drawing attention to them, she doesn't seem to truly mind. At least, she certainly does not shrink back or complain of the mess. (Although she does, privately, wish she might have been wearing more suitable clothes.)]

[his blue eyes follow her hands as she diligently sorts through the metal and plastic and he's surprised to find that she's actually putting things in a way that works for him. It's - amazingly observant but it's also not at all what he's used to people in positions of authority doing. Usually they arrange, or try to arrange, the world to suit what works best for themselves. Instead she's already concentrated on and analyzed what works best for him and now she's, surprisingly competently for someone with hands that soft, putting it into effect. He makes a soft noise in his throat to show he's paying attention and then blinks again as she sets the last tool into place.

That's... surprisingly helpful.

So his blue eyes are a bit surprised as they rise to her.

One edge of his lips quirk upward and he reaches over to pull down a clean rag off of Fenrir's seat to hand it to her.]

You want a part time job?

[In the absence of anything cleaner, she wipes her hands with the rag, and the most threatening grime rubs away easily. She hands it back with a small, demure smile.]

I already have responsibilities that I have to go back to. But I hope, some day, you find someone very skilled to work for you.

[she looks like Ami but there are some obvious differences and her answer to his joke is one of the most obvious so far. It's all right though because there's a whisper of the Ami he knows about her too. It's in the intelligence and the desire to help. So his lips will just soften a little more and he'll dip his chin in a nod.]

My usual helpers are out shopping right now. One more's always welcome though so don't forget the job offer.

[Tens of thousands of years separate this Mercury from that Ami. It's only natural that differences make themselves known.]

I promise not to forget. [The tight smile, as though she's trying to restrain it but can't quite help it, is as close as she can come to a joke in return; they both know it'd be impossible in seriousness.]

So, for right now, while we have this time, how can I help, to pay you back for allowing me to stay?

[the Ami he knows is free with her smiles, sometimes even using them as masks for what's really going on, and he's caught by the contrast again. Not upset by it, just... filing it away in the back of his brain. His own quiet smile stays.]

Good. There's a pair over coveralls over by the door if you want them. Bathroom's right inside the door if you want to change. You hungry?

[he's much better at the whole 'talking' thing when he's helping someone else deal with confusing situations.]

[Miraculously, from the girl who'd find the humor in it but who'd have a few sharp words for Cloud for assuming she'd do his bidding and follow his orders so easily, there is no protest right now. She responds to that voice of command and authority, even when it's joking.]

I think I should change first of all.

[She picks up the coveralls, which are definitely too large for her, and disappears into the bathroom. When she emerges, she's wearing them - conveniently tied down to something more her size by a few of the loose ribbons from her gown. She looks quite proud of herself for the effort.]

This should be suitable.

[More precisely, it gives the impression of a little girl dressed in her father's clothes.]

[she looks... cute. She looks really cute and Cloud's lips curve a bit at their corners. So proud of herself and so very young looking. He can't help but smile at that - and at the pleasure he sees in her eyes. Whether it's all girls or just the ones he knows, there's something about the chance to get dirty and messy that makes them all seem to take great delight in it. He can't say he's not the same way but he suspects it's a bit different. People expect him to get filthy. Princesses... probably not so much. He'll dip his chin in an approving nod, smile still there and gesture toward the bar stool where there's a plate with a sandwich on it.]

Thought you might want to eat before we got covered in grease.

[Sandwiches! She is the bane of the castle kitchens for preferring such a practical food (she doesn't have to leave her paperwork or lessons) to their extravagant creations.]

It looks delicious. But I know you could not have planned for my arrival. You should finish your own lunch.

[the smile actually grows a little bit and he shakes his head. Jerks his thumb slightly at the plate with sandwiches on it he's got sitting next to his heel.]

Tifa always makes more than enough for me. I don't mind sharing.

[She doesn't laugh, but she has to duck her head to hide it almost starting. Until now, there has only been one person, ever, who has seen her as more than just the princess of Mercury and the moon princess' guardian, but as a young woman, too.

And she might be in love with him. Cloud, by the simple normal treatment he gives her, is fast rising in her esteem as well. She nods her head, and takes the sandwich from the plate. She takes a small, polite bite and chews it thoroughly before speaking again.]

Please tell her it was very delicious. Give her my thanks.

[Cloud waits until she picks up her sandwich first to start on the first of his own. He inhales food as much as actually eats it but he's not messy about it. Old habits reveal ingrained patterns as he chows down. At her compliment though he smiles, though it's more a softening around his eyes because he's still chewing. Once he's finished he nods.]

She's the best cook in Edge.

[he doesn't consider it exaggeration as he adds:]

Probably the world. She left cookies too.

I would be very happy to taste them. Since you praise them so highly.

[She does smile this time, letting herself go a little more with each delicious moment that passes. She herself has not been so lucky with her few forays into baking; they generally end up burnt. This could quite possibly be the fault of her habit of bringing a book to read while she waits for the oven.

Getting her to stop that habit is a lost cause.]

How about as a reward for our work? We should be sure to finish promptly.

Edited 2011-06-30 07:46 (UTC)

[Cloud has the miraculous ability to burn water in a pot so everything Tifa does in the kitchen is a form of magic to him. Half of his second sandwich is already gone but he'll nod, chin dipping, at the suggestion. He'd actually lost track of time and forgotten about lunch until his strange visitor arrived and his body is making up for it now.

There's something funny in a good, weird kind of way at realizing he's going to have a princess working on Fenrir. It sounds like the kind of story Marlene would interrupt Denzel's story to tell.]

Sounds good. You ever worked on a bike before?

[Her burnt cookies (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3avuvBoL_QM) will be legendary in a few tens of thousands of years.]

No. I will have to follow your instructions. Please be patient with me.

[If it helps any, she learns quickly.]

after much deliberation! timeskip for this is Princess Mercury, past life <3

awesome!!

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the world needs more 'cloud in greasy clothes' images

I approve of this!

we should start a petition

I'll sign!

if we pass it around it might come back with drool stains on it though...

But you could blame everyone? D:

this is a very good point, we'll laminate the pages first

Much easier!

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