oo3 ❄ stuck on repeat

[anonfantry]

[ Well, it's not exactly a novel dream - the perfectly formed scenery fits the desert island cliché to a T, though it's quite a bit more expansive than a rock with two palm trees sticking out of the middle. Above the rolling dunes that sweep down to the surf, a lush green forest rises to cover most of the visible, the tangle of trees thick enough to seem impenetrable (and half of them completely out of place, in a tropical climate). The only thing this leafy, viney (pine tree dotted) brush doesn't ensconce is the narrow mountain range rising from the center of the island. From those towering masses of land, slate grey and tipped with thin spires and a halo of fog (or perhaps smoke), volcanic activity seems the least of all potential dangers.

But all of that's merely an exciting backdrop to the true mundanity of this phantasm. Shored up at the very top of a wave of fine, yellow sand, sits a desk - plain and spare and rusting at the hinges, in no way special at all. And at it, nearly topped over in height by the towering stacks of (random, unsorted, some completely unlabeled) textbooks, sits Cloud.

Hunched intently over something - pages of notes, upon closer inspection - he pays no mind to the intermittent call of seabirds on the breeze, nor the way that lazy warm puff of air tugs at the messy spikes of his hair. He's scribbling furiously. Then considering. Then turning over the pencil in his hand and erasing with equal ferocity. Rinse, repeat, and more than once on the same line, with increasing frustration.

It's only when one of the precariously balanced texts atop his leaning tower spills over and slides down the sandy slope of the dune on the other side of the desk that he stops with a start, dropping his pencil and his notes at once. Skating around the edge of his desk, through the shifting ground, he all but dives after the book, snatching it back up and sinking to a stop in a small avalanche of sand. With an inaudible sigh of relief, Cloud digs his socked feet in (boots tucked safely into the hollow beneath his desk) and starts to haul himself back up the to the crest of the dune, and the loose pile of notes in desperate need of endless correction. ]

Comments

really, this post was asking for it. ;)

[waterfell]

[Ami, suddenly at the top of the dune, complete with wearing her glasses today, is entirely unimpressed. Even at this precarious peak, her footing is sure and confident. She folds her arms across her chest, and regards Cloud with outright suspicion as Cloud climbs back up. An eyebrow raises.]

Was that an excuse? You don't have time to be diving after books. Next time, I'll get whatever drops, so get serious.

[She jerks her head towards the desk. The glasses are given a nudge, and gleam oddly in the light as she makes her pronouncement of doom.]

We still have ten chapters to review today.

[She acts entirely as if this isn't too much, as if it's a normal workload. Actually, her piles of study material tend to be impressive themselves, especially if any exams happen to be looming on the horizon.]

[anonfantry]

[ As a matter of fact, it is an exam he's studying for - though not, perhaps, of exactly the kind most familiar to her. The differences between typical schoolwork (with which Cloud himself has no real experience) and military qualifications matter little in the way of preparation, however.

Clutching his nearly lost book to his chest with the hand not sifting through palmfuls of sand as he staggers his way awkwardly back up the small mountain, he needs to make no special effort to glower up at the feet of his instructor. The warm, summery beach is no place to be caught in full uniform (or close enough to, without the shoes), and he'll have broken a faint sweat by the time he's back behind his desk, again. ]

I'm not messing around! [ But SOLDIERs don't complain, and neither should infantrymen who want to be SOLDIERs. Beneath his momentarily wounded pride (and the ruined sense of relief that had come with it), he's a little glad he won't have to go back after anything else - if she means it, anyway - but not nearly enough so to look gracious.

"Ten chapters" sounds like the downslope of the day's work, so far, but he doesn't have any intention of stopping, there. Not the way things are going - when it takes him three tries at the least to get the right words from the page, through his brain, to his hand. When he keeps coming back to the right thing written down and finding it altered in some fundamental and ultimately damning way.

He shakes a sheaf of sand out of Materia Fusion: Basics, and sets it back atop its designated stack. ] Can't review anything if I don't have all my books.

[waterfell]

[Oh, she means it. This is a study session. That means Cloud is going to study and nothing else. (Don't worry, she's also willing to provide tea and food. Occasionally. Bathroom breaks are negotiable. Expect difficult negotiations.) The summery beach is also a very pleasant distraction, and Ami will not let him be distracted. That means no lounging, no playing, no swimming, just a job to do and orders to get it done.

Consider it study boot camp.

Ami eyes the Materia text and despite her unfamiliarity with it in waking life, now that she's here, she understands enough to know how much red pen belongs all over Cloud's notes, which seem to keep playing traitor. She holds out a hand.]

Let me see them. We'll see how you're doing so far.

[This much can be said for her: Now that she's apparently decided to help, she'll be sure the material is drilled into his head.]

[anonfantry]

[ If nothing else, at least, any concern over him possibly falling to distraction over the sunny, enticing scenery is well misplaced. Cloud can't seem to care less where he is, unless it's a matter of getting back behind his desk.

He isn't much of a swimmer, anyway - or not in the ocean, anyway, where the waves would only serve to nauseate him, if he ventured out too far. ]

N-No! [ Slapping his hands down over the messy array of slightly rumpled, lined sheets of paper, he does his best to keep them covered. Even now, the right answers are all probably busy rewriting themselves beneath his palms, and he can't, can't let anyone see how badly he's already screwed this up. ] I'm not finished, yet! I just need a minute!

[waterfell]

[For a moment, she might refuse; Ami is very inflexible when it comes to studying, as Cloud is quickly learning. She relents with poor grace, stiffly.]

One more time to look it over to review. [She doesn't much care how much is wrong (funny, when a year ago she'd have been the first to taunt and mock someone for it); the point is to get them right the next time.]

Then we'll make sure you understand the correct answers.

Aerith feels the keywords are accurate...if with a different meaning here.

[gardeningaia]

[ How well does Cloud stand distraction? Because yes, Aerith will stop by his desk briefly, with a light smile: ]

Busy busy, aren't we? [ , picking up a few pages and helpfully shaking out the sand before returning them to their place. Well. Approximately, close enough to their place.

But then come on man the wind is calling. Not on a duty for the Cetra, either! No, this is just plain old fun in the sun and surf, and Aerith is soon running around in a two-piece she has faint memories of eyeing with Tifa in Costa Del Sol, excitedly tossing back commentary to Cloud every so often without really minding if he's listening (or wanting to listen). ]

Ahhh! What a nice wind! And the waves...they've got a rhythm to them.

...Hee hee hee, what a funny little crab.

... [ Occasionally she's not talking. Although then she's often humming. Until-- ]

Oooooh! Ow! I guess you can't make sand angels when it's this hot...

...Clooouuuud, what are you doing slaving away when it's so warm? Come on, let's have fun!

...is she trying to kill him with this 8( bikini...

[anonfantry]

H-Hey! Don't touch those!

[ Given that it's his unluckiest day, he hasn't been faring the constant interruptions very well. Every time he looks up to the sound of one of those shouts (that Ow! in particular), his last place in a book or his pages of notes is utterly, hopelessly lost - sometimes the pages even seem to shuffle themselves, just to get away from him.

Or maybe she's doing it, somehow, simply by introducing such unnecessary chaos into his peaceful (stressful enough, already) study session.

When he looks up, this time, his face is red (from the sun! the sun!) over the edge of his sloppily built book fortress, and his annoyance is unmistakable - as if anybody'd have to see his face, to read it. ]

I don't have time for that. Can't you just be quiet?

no bikinis are cute 'k the havoc they wreak on boy hormones is just a bonus

[gardeningaia]

[ Oh she hears it all right. (And sees that redness.) So while it does get her to stop trying to wave him over, her hand falling down halfheartedly, it also makes her sigh. The next moment she's walking over to him, hands resting lightly on her hips. ]

Serious as always. What's got you so pressed for time anyway? [ Remembering--this time!--not to touch, she's instead leaning over his desk, craning her neck to better read his notes. ]

[anonfantry]

[ Making sure to (quite pointedly) keep his eyes on his notes, he shuffles the pages he's working on as well out of sight as he can without risking a devastating spill.

He doesn't imagine she'll be able to pick out all of the obviously incorrect assertions (even if his sloppy handwriting is legible), but there's no use risking it. Especially if he's going to actually have to admit what he's up to. ]

SOLDIER. Since I got a transfer back to Midgar, I can try again.

[gardeningaia]

...Wait, you have to study to get in SOLDIER?

[ How did Zack get in? He was really driven to be a hero, and she's sure he put in all the effort, but...

...but...

Zack sitting still...

It's hard to imagine. ]

[tasercopter]

[What is even happening here? Reno sighs from farther down the shore, putting her hands on her hips, glaring at tiny Cloud and all his stupid notes and books. Then she shakes her head and lets out a soft, wry laugh, though at this distance, the sea breeze carries the sound away.

It's true that she's dressed for the beach in a black bikini (because she's not some kind of fool who works all the time), but whether in or out of uniform, she's still a Turk.

And that's why, in her thoroughly professional way, she decides to sneak up to the desk, using all the stealth at her disposal. As well as her EMR, she's also got cigarettes and a lighter with her, tucked into the band of her goggles for easy access. It's relatively hard to sneak up on someone on this kind of terrain, but fortunately, Cloud's not paying a lot of attention, and it's easy to be quiet while moving on sand. She doesn't make a sound until the snickt of the lighter sounds, and she touches the bright flame to the nearest stack of paper, smirking.]

[anonfantry]

[ It's true, he doesn't seem to notice much at all outside the scope of his study material and repairing his constantly deteriorating notes - but the thin little click of the lighter snaps him out of it almost violently. The sound is close enough to startle him quite badly, the tip of his pencil tearing through the sheet of notes he's currently working away at, and a horrified double-take quickly follows.

Though it's really more like quadruple; he certainly takes long enough to realize what, exactly, is going on. In his defense, however - Reno in a bikini trying to commit arson on his painstakingly compiled (except wrong, backwards, constantly changing) sheaf of information-crammed papers is a lot to take in.

The sound he makes is not quite a word, not quite a shout, but the action he takes is far more decisive. Clapping his hand down over the start of a much bigger flame, he singes his palm but saves his notes, rounding on her with a look that's purely defensive (and not just a little appalled). ]

What are you doing!?

[tasercopter]

[Instead of answering his question, Reno swings her EMR around, smiling--challenging, much as she would with an older Cloud. Which might be unfair of her, but that's how she's used to dealing with Cloud. Even though this one is so young and would be much easier to defeat.

Still, she doesn't attack. She's being--not nice, but not trying to injure him, either. So, relatively nice.

At this range, her scars are evident, including a particularly prominent one across her midsection that looks like it was caused by some kind of giant sword...]

I'm doing you a favor.

[She's still got the lighter in her other hand, and she clicks it again, making a new flame. She is not going to let the fire die that easily.]

[anonfantry]

[ He doesn't recognize the weapon in any specific context, but he knows a dangerous piece of work when he sees one (and that applies to all of Reno, regardless of her state of dress or - vacation?). Cloud shrugs back from the end of that ugly baton, appropriately - and then just as promptly digs in his heels.

There's not a single hint at any intention of giving up his stronghold, scraping together his notes and hastily beginning to shift as much of the bulk to his side of the desk as he can. Without coming too close to the tip of her EMR, at least. ]

Leave me alone!

[tasercopter]

[She laughs. With a crackle of electricity, she tasers the papers themselves with the business end of her EMR, which causes them to spark.

Unfortunately, her shortage of empathy allows her to think this is an amusing joke, and not bordering on assault. But then, it can be hard for those who don't know Reno well to tell whether her intent is joke or assault.]

You gettin all mad over that? [Just a little harmless arson, honestly.] Yo, c'mon, you're on vacation, Cloud. You're supposed to be having a good time. Do you even know how to do that?

blame the bad luck theme, cloud.

[drinkandforget]

[It's purely by chance that she's ended up here. There's a small boat out in the water, far down below; nothing but a ferry, really: shallow-bottomed, small, built to carry only a few passengers at once at the most. Inside, a girl wearing a simple, lightweight dress made for the summer heat (which seems to be increasing suddenly) stands tall, and poles her way nearer to the shore.

But when she comes too close, the boat bumps a rock, and water gathered at her feet splashes out and over the side - water from the River of Oblivion, the river of lost memories. It mixes with the rest of the water as she gives a surprised gasp.]

What are you doing?! That wasn't supposed to happen!

[She is not good at taking this calmly, it seems. There's nothing to do but climb out of the ferry and clamber onto the shore, which she does. After glancing up the long height of the hill and shading her eyes against the sun, she finds her destination. Slowly, she makes her way up towards Cloud, the only person she's spotted.

Unfortunately, the damage is done. As the water of oblivion mixes with the normal water, it becomes harder to remember - the little things, first.]

his life is a bad luck theme okay

[anonfantry]

[ Had he still been hunched over behind his desk, he wouldn't have seen (or heard) her at all.

But since he isn't - still curled up around the all-important text in his arms, seated in a hollow of warm sand, instead - the sound of her indignant shout carries, and he looks up into the blinding afternoon sunlight. A simple boat like that shouldn't have come so far across the ocean (the thought that she might be from the island, herself, doesn't so much as flirt at the edges of his addled mind), but there's little time for contemplation, as she starts up the slope of beach toward him almost as soon as she's made her slightly awkward dock with shore.

With equal grace (which is to say, none at all), he stands up in the neat little wedge he's carved out of the sandy drift, itchy in his socks and stifling fatigues. If it weren't for the weight of the book in his hands, he might have forgotten he was holding it at all - does, for a second, in his surprise. But that's pretty ordinary, isn't it?

A stranger showing up on his lonely stretch of beach is a sudden enough shock to warrant a little forgetfulness. ]

...What happened?

poor Cloud XD

[drinkandforget]

[Lethe looks about as thrilled as Cloud at the interruption; but it can't be helped now. It's her own rotten luck to have crashed along this beach.]

My ferry was going too quickly to land on this beach. It was nearly upset, and water spilled out.

[She doesn't specify just why it's so dire that the water spilled, but her face as she stares at the receding waves says plenty about the impossibility of finding... water in water.]

Where is this place, and who are you? [She gives him half her attention, the other half still being carried out to sea.]

[anonfantry]

Oh.

[ Futility he understands, but it's difficult to come up with a more appropriate reaction to such an abnormal dilemma. Water goes on the outside of the boat, and all.

But it doesn't seem to matter much, anyway, and so that thought floats out to sea, as well, as he focuses instead on answering her questions. ]

The Barracks. [ That's where. ] And I'm Cloud. Who are you?

[drinkandforget]

[Well, yes; yes it does. But it's a rare voyage that takes on no water at all - and she knows the consequences if that water mixes with this.

Of course, it won't affect her, so Lethe makes up her mind not to worry about it. It's not that important, beyond her quick irritation at the mishap.

Instead, she introduces herself. Despite the polite words, there's a slight coolness, perhaps even coldness, to her.]

The guardian of the River of Lost Memories, I am Sailor Lethe.

[nohometown]

[Sephiroth, the man famous for never taking a vacation (among other things), should be startled to find himself out on the beach. He is, for a moment, but the feeling quickly fades. It's not as if he's eager to return to work. He has hardly a moment's rest while awake, these days, with SOLDIER decimated and ShinRa changing, asking more of him, weighing more heavily on him all the time.

He's dressed in a black swimsuit, because of course, that couldn't be avoided, and his long hair is hanging loose, blowing in the breeze.

As idyllic as this setting is, it's abrupt and startling to see the desk sitting in the middle of nowhere, but Sephiroth's expression barely changes (as usual) as he takes it in. He blinks, that's all, before beginning to walk toward it, and Cloud. It's hard to mistake the infantryman's industry and determination for anything other than what they are, in spite of the incongruous setting.]

An odd place to do your work. [If he's amused by the unlikely scene, at least he doesn't show it.] Do you need any help with that?

[anonfantry]

[ The sun is still beating down relentlessly overhead, but the sound of that voice sends a very real chill tracking down his spine. It would be just his luck, on a day like this, to have the very epitome of everything he aspires to be very suddenly looming over his shoulder - even if he isn't, really, just kind of standing there, but there's no shaking that instant, overpowering sense of his presence.

(A feeling Cloud is almost just barely coming to recognize, the more this happens, on some level - but which never seems to lessen in unintentional intensity.)

Freezing on the spot, he's only saved the further embarrassment of gouging a chunk out of the page under his hand by the fact that he's erasing, rather than writing, at the moment. ...Though maybe it would be better if he had destroyed the evidence of his complete ineptitude and-

Oh. Sephiroth is still talking? ]

U-Uh- No, sir. I can finish on my own. [ And the insistence is nearly vehement, even as he turns to face his superior (and is visibly shocked by his lax state of dress), because he won't let Sephiroth think he can't handle so much as his own study workload.

It doesn't occur to him until afterward that he might have just squandered the greatest potential opportunity to improve the universe would ever see fit to drop right into his lap, but there's no taking it back, now. He tries his best to look resolute. (And to shield the bulk of his notes from view, by squaring his shoulders and standing a little taller.) ]

[nohometown]

Your desk--is there some reason it's here?

[He can't not ask, it's so absurd.

The placement of the desk might be odd, but otherwise, there's a familiarity to the scene. Studying and reading are pursuits he devotes himself. Both when he needs to and when he wants to. He's been accused of being a workaholic before, and working too much isn't a fault he's likely to call out (or notice) in others.

Cloud's anxiety and startlement, on the other hand, are completely unfamiliar to him.

If anything, he's more relaxed than usual for the moment, looking on calmly.]

What are you studying, if I might ask?

[anonfantry]

My desk?

[ The question strikes him as oddly as the location seems to have Sephiroth, and Cloud shakes his head. ] It's always been here.

[ Or for so long as he can recall, anyway. It isn't really his desk, but one shared by a number of cadets, and he wouldn't dream of moving it - even if the sun is a little too bright, here, and the sand is going to be sticking to his uniform forever.

These, however, are very minor concerns in the face of finding the courage to confess his ambitions to his idol. There's no way the words won't sound probably pathetic, coming from him - but his lack of control suddenly extends to his mouth, too, and he blurts out the right answer, this time. ]

I'm studying for SOLDIER, sir.

[ ...It's almost worse than being wrong all the time. ]

[nohometown]

Has it? [He's not sure why that would be. He glances back over his shoulder at the sea. It's an unusual location for a desk of any kind, personal or shared, but he's going to take Cloud's word for it, for some reason.] I see.

Ah. Good. [Well, Sephiroth thinks that studying for SOLDIER is a good idea. How could that be pathetic? It strikes him as a worthy way to spend time, and as a man who's been known to lock himself in the Research Room, he can relate.] That does you credit.

If you have any questions, I think you'll find I know a few things about being in SOLDIER. [This is one of his dry attempts at making a joke. Most people tend to laugh at them, perhaps more out of fear than amusement--that is, when they can figure out he's joking.]