onepassingnight | Interlude V - [The Fifth Dream]

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Interlude V - [The Fifth Dream]

[Everything hurt.

Genesis couldn't believe that even here, in her dreams, her body hurt. She remembered, fully, what had happened before she lost consciousness and fell into her dreams. For how long, she didn't know. She also didn't know if she would ever wake up this time.

In the waking world, she had decided to do more than work on the orchard and looked into fighting monsters for money. Mercenary work asked little questions, after all. And with the right outfit, no one would know who she was. But after the first few successful (and pricey) hunts, the experienced mercenaries had been getting suspicious of her skills.

Today proved them right. They teamed up for an exceptionally hard monster (though Genesis had known she could fight it off on her own) and intentionally sabotaged the job and she'd been injured severely. Before she could cast her magic to cure herself, they'd torn off her sunglasses and her hat, revealing her red hair and Mako blue eyes. Red hair was a bit of a rarity on Gaia. And her eyes gave away just who she was. Her injuries didn't stem from just the monster now and she had used up all of her magic to cast as many Protects as possible.

Last thing she remembered was lying in the snow near Icicle Inn. Were anyone to find her and help her, it would probably be a miracle. For now, she sat in the middle of Midgar, on LOVELESS Avenue. She sat, curled up in a bloodied and broken ball at the corner, being overlooked by everyone. Just like she had wanted in the waking world.

Now, she just wanted a potion or two.]

[[OOC: So yeah, Genesis got caught and beaten up. Unoriginal and all that, I know. But I needed to post something ;; I hope it's taggable regardless, though!]

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[It's none of her business. In fact, as it is, she already isn't as early as she'd like to be for her meeting. Like everyone else, she could just keep walking.

That's the problem. Everyone is walking by, as if this person on the ground doesn't even mean anything at all. As if the people can't even see her. As if they're taking her existence so much for granted that they've shut her out completely.

It doesn't sit right with Mercury. She makes her way over to Genesis, and stands tall over the curled-up woman on the ground for a long moment before doing anything. Then, she takes out a small phial of water.]

This has certain healing properties. And, it can dull that pain. [Her voice is even, her face carefully dispassionate. This is just something she's decided to do.]

[Genesis looks up at the woman with an equally dispassionate look, despite the pain that she was in. Her hair is covering half her face, but the visible brow raises at the sight of the water.]

Since when does water have the same properties as a potion?

[She can't help but wonder what this woman wants, if she wants anything. Why offer her this? Beatings like this were, sadly, common place in Midgar, it's why no one was helping her. Then again, they also didn't know she was a SOLDIER, like this.]

[She smirks, and there's more than a little arrogance in it, and more still in her answer.]

Since it's mine. However, if you're not interested, it can stay with me just as easily.

[The truth is, it had been a gift, from a woman who still believed Mercury could do good, and heal instead of harm; from a woman who knew her bond with the Water.]

[For the arrogance, she only gets snark.]

Because saying who owns the phial clearly tells me all I need to know.

[She takes it, regardless, but that doesn't stop her tone. She takes a look at the phial, her hand shaking as she held it. It really did look just like water. Crystal clear and nothing more. And yet, it was suppose to heal a bit and dull the pain.

For all she knew, it could be poison.]

How much will it heal?

[No poison, though it wouldn't be an unthinkable trick, for her, even at a whim.]

Your wounds look pretty serious. You'll still need some time even after this. However, this will cleanse them, as well as beginning that healing process.

[There's another slight pause.]

In return, tell me what happened here.

I was the unfortunate victim in a sabotaged job, there is nothing more to explain.

[The water does its work, poured over the wounded sites; it soothes the pain and begins to knit together the injuries, though it doesn't heal them perfectly. They'll still need time.]

What kind of job was this? [And for that matter...] You said sabotaged; is whoever did that still nearby?

[She uncurls as she is partially healed, sighing softly in relief. There are still wounds on her, of course, but the worst has been taken care of.]

Mercenary. The elite didn't like the newbie taking their jobs and doing it better. During a team up, they made sure I was injured and decided that, once the monster was down, they could try and finish the job.

[It wasn't the whole truth, but it was the majority of it.]

They've left. It won't be long before I possibly freeze to death, though who knows. Maybe I was found as well. I haven't awoken to find out.

So you accept this as a dream. [She pauses, considering.] If I'm here, that's probably the case.

If you wake up, make them pay for what they did. There's no reason to let them go.

It's hard not to. [Midgar doesn't exist anymore.] But if I awaken, I won't pursue them. It will bring unwanted attention, as much as I would like to do otherwise.

[And that's probably what pissed her off the most. But this incident had only told her that the world was simply not ready her her presence yet and to track them down and try to make them pay in a way that wouldn't create headlines was simply too much work right now.]

Why should that trouble you? [Despite the tone, it's a legitimate question: Just what is Genesis trying to stay quiet for? For Mercury, she'd kept certain things quiet for the sake of ease, and for the sake of distancing herself from other events.]

Because I don't want to be found right now.

[A legitimate question that only gets a rather simple answer.]

Obviously. [Come on, Genesis. You know she wants a better, fuller answer.]

There's a strange feeling of nostalgia for the ex-SOLDIER as he walks down the street. Overhead the sky is black, tinted with green and everywhere the air's a little thick and has a distinct tang bite to it that he recognizes as mako residue. It doesn't bother him though. He's ex-SOLDIER and they make those too tough to be bothered by a slightly off smell. In fact, not much bothers this particular mercenary and he likes it that way. He's not in his line of work for emotional reasons. That would imply caring.

that would imply being able to be hurt

No. He's here because Midgar is where the money is - and where the ugly is - and he's able to find work when a place is that way.

that and... he's looking... and he doesn't know what for...

What he doesn't care about is the bedraggled figure curled up in the corner. He can smell the blood on them and his eyes, glowing in the dimness, focus and then move on. Not his problem.

Except... something about the red jacket tugs at him and before he knows it, he's standing there, looking emotionlessly down at the figure and debating whether to toe them with his boot or not.

"Hey." His voice is low and flat - and vaguely annoyed. He's not sure where the next words come from. "You need help?"

Genesis looked up and snorted softly. Cloud was annoyed with her now? Great.

Then again, this was just a dream, so who knew if this was the Cloud she had been talking to. This whole dream thing was just so annoying at times.

She shivered and curled in farther. "That depends on what you're help would be."

She had gotten a few other offers for help, but they had asked for payment in return and they were not of anything favorable.

One hand finds a hip. It's a Zack move and yet it's entirely off, the move a little too studied, the way he stands a little too youthfully loose, and yet it seems to come utterly naturally to him, this stilted not-rest stance. No compassion, or recognition, sparks in his eyes. If anything he looks bored... and a little annoyed. As if that's his permanent expression.

"Help would be hauling you somewhere helpful and throwing a potion on you or two if you could pay for it. You want any other kind of help - it'll cost a lot more than a potion."

His face looks too young to be aware of other forms of 'help'... but he is in Midgar. His eyes certainly don't show any innocence left to be stolen.

She is rather taken aback as how Zack-like Cloud was acting right now. Just what was going on here?

"I would rather not be hauled around, thank you. Just a potion would do," She sad softly, reaching up to wipe from blood from her lips. "Exactly what other help do you believe I need?"

He does look too young to be aware of that sort of thing, but her curiosity was peaked and she decided she may as well keep this up for now.

"You're a girl," he says it as if that's a foreign species, not just another version of his own. Both shoulders shrug, complete with hands raised slightly. Again, a Zack move that's done entirely wrong, a little too slow, a little too much pause before it's done. And again he gives no indication that it's not perfectly natural for him to move that way. "Who knows what you need."

And then he's reaching into the bottomless pockets of the SOLDIER uniform pants he's wearing and for just a moment, it's entirely a Cloud move, too simple and efficient for Zack's more cheerful flair. His hand comes out with a potion, low level from the murky color but healing to a degree all the same. He holds it, gives it a shake - and doesn't make any move to offer it.

"So you got the gil on you for this or not?"

[Kuja finds this city distasteful, the architecture too ugly and utilitarian for his tastes, stark and unadorned. What adornments there are are in poor taste. Not to mention the clothing of the people. Designs and tailoring devoid of imagination. No, nothing holds his interest here.

Not until he catches sight of the bleeding woman on the corner. In the past, such a sight wouldn't have moved him. In fact, it likely would have inspired his scorn. But now--he feels compassion, a warm and slightly troublesome emotion. So he pauses, looking down at her. He's clearly out of place in this modern setting, baroque and aesthetic as he is. He stands out sharply, but he doesn't seem to mind. He approaches and smiles down at her.]

Ah, look at you, my dear. What a state you're in. So cold and lonely, your hair ragged and your clothing torn. [He reaches out a hand, though it doesn't seem to be with the intention of helping to pull her to her feet. He's standing slightly too far away for that.] Will you allow me to help you?

[She raises her brow at him, his words only annoying her.]

Well, aren't you a bright one.

[Why was he stating the obvious and then offering help? Or rather, asking if she would allow it? She would, if it meant actual help. But in this city, even with a stranger, whatever they were asking tended to have ulterior motives.]

I would allow it. Depending on what you would ask for in return.

[Kuja likes hearing himself talk. He enjoys words and their rhythms.

He only laughs at her answer.]

Bright indeed, but I can shine far brighter.

[His fingers glow with magic at this, the pale light gloving his hand.]

Please, I doubt there's anything you could offer me.

[He doesn't need her permission, so he casts Curaga on her.] And now my help is yours--at no cost.

And so modest, too.

[She closes her eyes when the Curaga washes over her, knitting her skin together, mending the broken bones in her chest.]

No cost at all? Why do I find that hard to believe?

As you say. [With a slight smirk, he bows low, a dramatic, sweeping gesture.]

Difficult to say why you believe as you do, as we are not acquainted. [Odd how people can react to kindness and cruelty in such similar ways. Such suspicion! Kindness is new to him, and he hadn't realized this before.] Perhaps you have a distrustful nature.

Perhaps I do. Or perhaps there are few people who show such kindness without wanting something in return. You would not be the first to offer help today.

[She grunts as she finally stands, she's still sore and possible a bit sprained. Quite a bit at been abused, after all, but she doesn't mind. It's better than before.]

You would simply be the first to offer with no strings attached. A mystery to one such as myself.

Infinite in mystery is the gift of the Goddess...

I wouldn't blame you for your suspicion. People can be so uncaring and cold, can't they? [This is more than a little ironic, coming from him, but he was simply incapable of warmth or caring until quite recently.] So quick to ask for help when they need it, but so slow to offer it to others. Perhaps that's why life is so cold and sorrowful, emerging from nothingness only to return to the same.

[If it's time to quote poetry, Kuja is up to the challenge.]

Though we hope for promising years
After shedding a thousand tears,
Yesterday's sorrow constantly nears

Hm. I wouldn't say life is so cold and sorrowful.

[Only the people in Midgar. Especially these people. The rich on the Upper Plate, who seem to think they are better than those on the streets or in the Slums.

She raised an eyebrow at the poetry. She hadn't been asking for a challenge in reciting, it's just what she did. Well, she hadn't lately but today... it seemed to tumble from her lips.]

There is no hate, only joy
For you are beloved by the goddess
Hero of the dawn, Healer of worlds.

You don't find it so? So brief, so full of hardship and pain.

[He simply enjoys reciting poetry himself and will take any opportunity to do so. If someone else is doing the same, then all the better. Few people enjoy poetry as much as he does.]

Peace is but a shadow of death,
Desperate to forget its painful past...

[His life is over, after all, and what joy was there in it?}

And while the moon still shines blue,
By dawn, it will turn to scarlet hue.

My friend, your desire
Is the bringer of life, the gift of the goddess
Even if the morrow is barren of promises
Nothing shall forestall my return

It is as brief as you want it to be.

[Though with the experiments done to her, she doubted her own life would be brief.]

Besides, it's certainly not fair to assume all life is full of hardship and pain. After all, there are those who believe that their own life is quite happy.

Is that what you think? Or is that but a platitude? One does not generally control the duration of one's own life. Even a thousand years may seem like an instant once one has lived it and finds it all gone away.

[He shrugs.] I did not say there could be no moments of joy, but in the end, all are stripped of what they have and what they are. I'm not concerned with the opinions of those too blind to see the world they live in. Their simplicity fails to interest me.

Do you believe your life is happy?

It is what I believe.

[She rubs her hands through her bloodstained hair, wincing slightly as she tugged.]

No, I do not. But neither am I dissatisfied with it either. Not anymore, anyway. And you? Do you wander through life unhappy and bored?

Life is not as brief as one wants it to be. Many find their lives cut short. Others, perhaps, live longer than they would like, outlive their glory and happiness, fall into decline. I have seen so many deaths, and few who died seemed to believe they had died at the right time.

Bored? Oh no, I'm never bored. Why should I be? Unhappiness and boredom need not go hand in hand. The state of one's sorrow and the state of one's interest might have no relation whatsoever.

That's because no one wants to die. It's rare to find someone who accepts that, but is it so wrong? As for those who live longer than they would like... well, then it's up to them to find happiness and glory or whatever it is they want to find in life until they can finally rest in peace.

Or never, if they are immortal.

[Perhaps that's what this man is. Who knows? Who cares?]

They might, but that doesn't mean they don't.

Hm, yes, I did not contest any of that, or say anything that opposed it.

How, exactly, does this support your statement that "life is as brief as you want it to be"?

I find it's usually boring people who grow bored themselves. They lack the imagination to keep their minds occupied and interested.

Because. [She shrugged.] In the end, it will always be up to them, not us, to decide how much they enjoy or do not enjoy their lives. It's up to them to view how they lived as either brief or long.

Perspective is another matter. Perspective changes everything. It makes all the difference. It can turn good to evil or right to wrong. The whole world changes from one mind to another.

[He glances away, thoughtful.]

There are some things it cannot change. Some had their lives taken from them, or their destinies altered. If they were wronged or treated cruelly, they are not to blame.

If they see their lives as brief and brutal because of this, it is not "up to them". Perspective can only go so far.

I never once said perspective but [She waves a hand and shrugs] This subject has quickly become boring. You're rather awkward with emotions, aren't you?

[It wasn't easy to tell, but the way he spoke, while poetic, also reminded her of Sephiroth.]

You didn't say the precise word, but when you say "it's up to them to view how they lived", that means it's a matter of perspective. [Kuja sniffs.

As for emotions, he'd been created without the ability to feel those that were more complex. He had had no capacity for mercy, compassion, or love--not until quite recently, and then he had barely had time to feel them, and they had all been painful. It was still a great sore point.]

I have an understanding of emotion. I am a student of literature, a patron of the arts. You have an interesting way of showing your gratitude.

[...she snorted and laughed.]

I apologize but... being a student of literature and a patron of the arts has nothing to do with what I said. You of an understanding of emotions as though watching from the audience. You don't experience them well, do you?

You remind me of an old friend.

[However, she did give a slight bow.]

But I do thank you for healing me.

Different beings and different individuals experience different emotions, do they not? I have the experience of my kind and myself. [He shrugs. It is painful, and there are many things he blames himself for, but he doesn't believe he's at fault for the tyranny and cruelty of the one who had made him. That, and he doesn't care to give too much about himself away.]

Perhaps your friend was the same.

[He returns her bow with a low one of his own, putting on his courtly manners for the moment.] You are most welcome.

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Interlude V - [The Fifth Dream]

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have a reverted Cloud?

Okay! <3

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