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timeandtides_backupCharacters: Yuffie, Zidane, & Fran
Progress: Incomplete
Summary: A ninja, a thief, and a pirate. Go figure.
Location: Midgar/Treno
Date: January 15th, 1803; Evening (after her S.O.S.).
Warnings: T for Languageand Suggestive Themes
The girl had taken refuge in a derelict house on the southern periphery of Midgar, the furthest she could manage to distance herself from the ShinRa Building without leaving the boundaries of the city (lest Zidane was unable to find her). It hadn't been the easiest of nights, as it had been spent dredging up memories of death (Aerith's) and near-death (her own). Of course, there was also the initial shock of being suddenly relocated to Midgar to begin with, if not the shift of Midgar itself to another... 'Gaia'. She had fallen asleep, curled up in a tight ball beneath the tatters of her cloak, wishing to return to the blessings of the Wutai sun, to the warm rays of her homeland and away from the shadows that slowly crept over her chilled skin.
Ironically, Yuffie had no qualms charging headfirst into the unknown. Her blind (if not obstinate) courage served her well enough, but when unascertained victory became determined defeat, an unsettling anxiety gripped her, made her reluctant to continue forward. She had always felt that hesitation when confronting Sephiroth, having seen his terrifying power devastate her country in the Wutai War, and she felt that fear now, with the unexplained return of Nero. Even though he had been (allegedly) defeated, the images that his darkness had induced had never been truly erased from her memories. Every now and then she heard the roar of flames and gunfire, the voice of the silver-haired SOLDIER, the last breaths of Aerith's prayer. But most disturbing of all was the defeaning silence that always followed.
Her night had been a quiet one, her dreams shapeless, until they were disrupted altogether by a harrowing scream. She had started to the window (surprisingly maintaining her balance), shuriken in hand and eyes immediately searching for the source of the noise. She found her answer in the form of an ink-like haze that flared from what had to be Reactor 0.
Him.
Though the Tsviet was a good distance away, he was still all-too close for comfort, and as soon as she'd (shakily) gotten herself out the door, she began to run, without direction or destination other than away. Into the unknown, which provided far more safety at the moment than the familiar.
Progress: Incomplete
Summary: A ninja, a thief, and a pirate. Go figure.
Location: Midgar/Treno
Date: January 15th, 1803; Evening (after her S.O.S.).
Warnings: T for Language
The girl had taken refuge in a derelict house on the southern periphery of Midgar, the furthest she could manage to distance herself from the ShinRa Building without leaving the boundaries of the city (lest Zidane was unable to find her). It hadn't been the easiest of nights, as it had been spent dredging up memories of death (Aerith's) and near-death (her own). Of course, there was also the initial shock of being suddenly relocated to Midgar to begin with, if not the shift of Midgar itself to another... 'Gaia'. She had fallen asleep, curled up in a tight ball beneath the tatters of her cloak, wishing to return to the blessings of the Wutai sun, to the warm rays of her homeland and away from the shadows that slowly crept over her chilled skin.
Ironically, Yuffie had no qualms charging headfirst into the unknown. Her blind (if not obstinate) courage served her well enough, but when unascertained victory became determined defeat, an unsettling anxiety gripped her, made her reluctant to continue forward. She had always felt that hesitation when confronting Sephiroth, having seen his terrifying power devastate her country in the Wutai War, and she felt that fear now, with the unexplained return of Nero. Even though he had been (allegedly) defeated, the images that his darkness had induced had never been truly erased from her memories. Every now and then she heard the roar of flames and gunfire, the voice of the silver-haired SOLDIER, the last breaths of Aerith's prayer. But most disturbing of all was the defeaning silence that always followed.
Her night had been a quiet one, her dreams shapeless, until they were disrupted altogether by a harrowing scream. She had started to the window (surprisingly maintaining her balance), shuriken in hand and eyes immediately searching for the source of the noise. She found her answer in the form of an ink-like haze that flared from what had to be Reactor 0.
Him.
Though the Tsviet was a good distance away, he was still all-too close for comfort, and as soon as she'd (shakily) gotten herself out the door, she began to run, without direction or destination other than away. Into the unknown, which provided far more safety at the moment than the familiar.
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