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[SUP BRO.
On one fine morning, when Zack emerges from his room, he might... almost step on something. It's a gift! Of course!]

There's a note!

Hey. I did a job and got a weird reward. Got it made into something you could use. Not saying there's anything wrong with what you're wearing, or your arms, or anything. It's just it's winter, and I figured this might help. If you don't want it, you don't have to wear it or anything. -Cloud

[Inside said gift might be a magical jumper- which, more or less, looks exactly as Zack's own does. Except this one? Sleeves, baby.

But as stated, it's magical. It's from a certain quest Cloud may or may not have done earlier in the month, and when it's worn, it's super comfortable. As if it knows the wearer's preferences and matches the fit and feeling that they like best!]

[He doesn’t know how to start this. He isn’t very good with broaching a subject that doesn’t revolve around a simple exchange of information, easy and concise.]

Zack. Do you have a moment?

[As good as anything.]

[How Lightning got roped into arts and crafts is anyone's guess, because while she's dextrous and has a good eye, the Guardian Corps never trained them to weave flowers and beads together to make a wreath. But true to this world's tendency to pull her into everything, here she is, having brought Zack into it as well. Hopefully he's having more success with finishing his up than she is?

There's one glass bead left before she's able to call it finished, wanting to use it to tie up the remaining loose ends, but she can't seem to get the stems to fit through. Eventually, she grows so frustrated with it that she's started jamming the forget-me-nots through it, only for them to bend under the pressure of the bead.]

Stupid flower... won't fit...

[Of course it's the last piece of the wreath to finish it!!! Serah was always so much better at this than she could ever hope to be.

help...]

[The sun set early in this city of spires, but the chaos burning the streets left no time for respite. The deep dark usually made it easy for Kaede to move about, but she still had her limits, and this city was still full of obstacles.

This was a rather bothersome one. The old Dorchacht's Coven were notoriously skilled at bringing Monsters to heel--and Kaede had caught one's attention. Spending too long in the shadows left her sluggish and tired, and the Witch had seized on that moment of weakness, cornering her in a side street. He wasn't alone; a controlled Necromancer and the Necromancer's thralls followed him like mindless ducklings. A chain net had dragged Kaede down from the sky, and while her snarls and claws fended most of the thralls off, it was hardly enough to scare them. Several of the thralls carried torches with them, their light flickering but preventing easy escape. The others had found the old shock lances, their long-spent spells renewed. Whenever Kaede started to pull part of the net free, a thrall on the opposite side jabbed her with one. The crackling jolt of lightning made her shout and snarl--and drop the net.

The Witch responsible for that was hard to mistake. His clothes were ragged, unkempt, but his bearing and stature were dignified and straight shouldered, his eyes clear and unlike the glassy stares of the necromancer and their thralls. And unlike the fury of the Chimera in front of him, his gaze was calm and calculating.

Most insidious of all, though, were the empty collars attached to his belt, worn openly and purposefully. Of course Kaede had seen them. It was why she was fighting so hard. But this was hardly the first stubborn Monster the Witch had dealt with.

It was a battle of wills, now; wills, and Kaede's faltering energy. She'd need help, and soon.]

[The sword he’s been carrying—the one he now rests with its uneven tip perched on the ground, held at balance with a firm hand around its hilt—is heavy. Not with weight and size, though there is certainly plenty of that to its shape and form, laden instead with the burden of memory, of the sentiment of an old friend who's lost to him, and a current friend with whom he’s lost a degree of trust, for how badly his future treats him. To Sephiroth, it manifests as almost physical, as though the Buster Sword has a gravity pull of its own, and he’s been flung into its orbit via a rolling wave of guilt. It’s constricting, in a way, to look at it, and even more so to carry it through the streets until he reaches a certain household, where a certain individual lives. A millstone around his neck, though he knows logically, it’s only a sword.

But it was never only a sword, not to either of the men who carried it.

No warning from Sephiroth, no desire to send a text message to prepare Zack for his arrival. He is blunt in all things, to the point where the force of it can be jarring — this is easily another example of such, perhaps taking strides to avoid preemptive texts in a cruelly efficient way. In the end, it’s to spare them both from that discomfort that might churn in them beforehand. It makes this an easier, more straightforward transaction-exchange, though maybe he’s too hopeful that it’ll be so easy.

He wastes no time in announcing himself with three firm knocks at the door.]

Edited 2020-11-20 17:17 (UTC)

[It's a knife, simply but solidly built with a faint enchantment on it that makes it easy to find if misplaced. The attached note reads "In case that sword of yours gets stuck in a door." And Kaede's name. She didn't forget this time!]

[On the day of the holiday, a plate of homemade cookies and a sample of herbal tea mysteriously appears on his doorstep. The wrapping is decorated with a fresh lily flower (actually a Fae magic product, designed to fade away from existence in a few hours) and a ribbon. The attached handwritten note reads as follows:]

Happy Modranicht! Let’s have another great year here in Aefenglom!

M⚜️

Zack?
I need a favor, if that's okay...

Cloud says that he has a purple potion in his room, for Tifa...
To help her. Her magic is all messed up.
Can you get it and bring it by the cottage?

Or I can come get it! If you're busy.
I just don't know where to go.

[There's only really so much pacing that could be done. He's been here for hours now, he guesses. Probably hours, by the little laundry list of things he's done while he's been here. It goes as follows:

a) strongarming his way into an isolation ward.
b) squaring up to various assholes that were roped into providing interim security for the aforementioned isolation ward.
c) pacing.
d) some tentative examinations of the isolation ward.
e) more threats to more personnel. This time, the previous team's backup.
f) trying to get the (lingering) smell of some almost fortnightlong adventures within a monster tree off himself. failing miserably.
g) opening a window. Getting bitched at for it.
h) ????

Regardless. When Zack opens his eyes (perhaps the way he smells does the trick, actually...) he should find Cloud, not in... the best position. By this point, he'd pulled up a chair to his bedside, and his upper half is slumped over the bed, fighting off the fatigue that came for him with the day.

But when Zack shifts, his eyes open immediately. He drags himself upward, his face the picture of concern.]

You're awake? It's me.

[Not even half a pause later, and-]

What happened?

Hey, hero~

Can you do me a favor? The next time Cloud changes, can you tie his device around his neck so it can record? He promised he'd do me a favor and told me to ask you, because he won't remember~

[It's been some time since Karin has reached out to anyone beyond her household. The weeks following what had happened with the Evergreen Circle had been challenging, to say the least, and she had been concerned with not only her own recovery, but that of her bondmate. Of course, other unfortunate developments had also complicated things, and she has found herself feeling not just concerned about the friends who had also suffered at the hands of the Circle, but lonely.

Zack had been worse off than most, and she can't help feeling a certain amount of guilt for being so absorbed in her own troubles that she hadn't reached out to him sooner. Her voice is tentative when she reaches out to him now, though the concern in it is very real.]

Zack? I was just wondering— that is, I wanted to... see how you're doing.

Hi, Zack? It's Tifa.

[ Admittedly a slightly-awkward greeting, but still somehow much better than what follows: ]

I was wondering if you might be free to stop by the cottage sometime soon? I owe you a drink for your help last time.

[ Not to mention all the other stuff going on with their shared Bond, although somehow that seems indelicate to mention over their devices. Instead, she goes for something playful, friendly: ]

Besides, it'd be nice to get to know you better, given your importance to our mutual friends~

Got a question.

Edited 2021-05-30 01:04 (UTC)

I know he said it's fine, but...

Just checking. Is it fine? If I stay for a few days, I mean.

☆ delivery

Text; un: Sephiroth; end of month July NOW IN THE RIGHT PLACE

action; event wreaths ✨

Price of Revolution, violence edition (sorry for the wait!)

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Modranicht Gift

Modranicht gift

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☆ [backdated] Feb event aftermath!

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4/02, voice | un: nibelung

text | un: lockhart

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