#〘 There are days when she's a whisper and nights when she's a scream 【 Ｊｅｓｓｉｅ Ｒａｓｂｅｒｒｙ】 IC Interactions 〙

[phantomarchive]

I think about this a lot, though, because the way I’ve always written Jessie is that, by the time she joins Avalanche and goes trekking across the world to put a stop for ShinRa and Sephiroth and everything, she’s decided that her acting life is behind her. Even though she’s young, my Jessie sees a lot of injury come her way (I made a chart for her injuries that last the rest of her life) and decides to focus her life on being a mechanic, helping build Edge, repairing vehicles, helping with electrical and plumbing and building and such around the city.

To have someone she cares for so much encouraging her to go back to acting, even if it’s part-time, even if it’s just once in a while - or even if it’s full-time and she spends half her time away from home - she would probably cry openly and feel so happy for that possibility and support. The idea of going back is one she thinks about often and would love, but really has just put it behind her. Someone else bringing it up and encouraging her would make her actually go for it, I think.

Okay but Cloud encouraging Jessie to keep chasing her dream of being an actress after all the stuff with Sephiroth is finished and being nothing but supportive of her. He even helps her with her scripts and performances. Boyfriend material? :') @phantomdream

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kalmaccountant​:

{ Starter for @phantomdream }

Life had to go on, he knew that better than anyone. But how could he? Ever since the Plate fell, Zwei had blamed himself for not being there. That he put his profession and job before the one person he ever truly cared about. Now he had to live the rest of his life knowing that the one who stole his heart was gone.

Zwei had thought to rid himself of the many mementos left behind by the rebel that he fell for, but it hurt him too much. Even Stanley could sense that something was wrong with his partner, and like any trusty companion, comforted Zwei when he needed it most. The Turk had found himself spending time working on unfinished projects that the rebel wanted to do, perhaps one day leading him to a state of enlightenment or paying back to her in spirit what he should've done while she was still alive.

The bike she was working on took a week to finish, in between work and late at night, he found himself working on it. And by the end of it, the bike was indeed repaired... More or less, but the pain of loss could only be halted for so long. Tonight was the worst in the many days after. Locking himself in the master bedroom, the Turk finally broke down.

He gripped upon his phone, tears streaming down his face and a bottle of wine in the other hand. Zwei was already halfway done as he read through all the texts that the pair had sent each other... Happy memories. That gradually lead to the final part. He could've stopped this, stopped her from falling victim... Stopped her from dying. The eerie silence of the room, sombre and sorrowful as the usually steadfast accountant crumbled. Being alone was the last thing he wanted but even Stanley couldn't help in this situation... He missed her. His own Ray of sunshine, his cute mechanic.... He wanted Jessie, but now she was gone.

"Why do the good ones always leave me?"

〚 ❣ 〛 Jessie barely remembers platefall, even weeks after it happened. She remembers gunfire and the chopping of helicopter blades through the air; explosions and...she thinks she can recall Cloud and Tifa? But it’s all such a blur surrounded by the darkness of the several days she was comatose before waking up confused in Sector 6, being tended to in the gym turned into a makeshift recovery ward where people tried to help survivors heal.

Try as she might, she can’t remember anything about it, but hears the sound of crumbling metal in her sleep, wakes up often in a cold sweat, tears on her cheeks and a cry on her lips. It exacerbates some of her injuries, thrashing around like she does, but at least those seem to be getting better. Some of her bones are being set before the healers can use magic to heal it the rest of the way, and she has permanent aches setting into her shoulder and knee (oh gods, her knee hurts like a bitch, and she’s taken to wearing a brace on it at all times just to remain steady when standing), but she feels off after it all.

Are her friends alright? Did they make it out safely? Biggs was on a lower level than she was, did he make it to safety? Barret, Tifa, and Cloud? Were they crushed beneath the mountain of metal? And-

Zwei. He’d been so concerned after their last fight, after she sent him that one picture of herself all dolled up only to stop talking to him for the rest of the night. Couldn’t take her phone into Corneo’s, didn’t have time to check it when she got back and the tower was being attacked. He must be so worried.

It takes a few days, but Nellie, who’d thankfully been out of Sector 7 at the time, had managed to find her phone amidst the destruction. The screen’s cracked in the corner, but considering what it’d been through, it’s a miracle that’s all it is. It still charges, and when she powers it on, she’s greeted by an onslaught of texts and missed calls from Zwei, starting with concerned, moving to upset when she never responded, but growing more and more worried, scared, sad, as the weeks passed and she never replied. Dozens and dozens of messages, texts and voicemails, and she tears up at hearing his strained voice on the other line begging her to call him, please, please.

And she does. With slightly trembling fingers, she calls him back, waits for several rings before he picks up, and even sounding cautiously hopeful, he sounds beautiful. “Hey,” she says, finds that her voice shakes a bit. Anticipation? Happiness? Relief? All of it. “Sorry to disappear on you like that. I had a date with a mob boss and some Turks. Turned pretty bloody. You hear about it?” She laughs, tear-filled but happy.

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@mercyxkilling:

even a sweaty, sticky mess and the girl near her was still very charming. mercy propped her chin up in her hand as she turned to regard jessie, trying not to seem over eager in her response. it was a real shame that this girl had to be her target for the night, but… a job was a job, she supposed.

“nope, not tifa. sorry,” she spoke with an apologetic sort of smile.

she listened to the other woman speak, enjoying more than anything the cadence of her voice, or how light and airy her laugh was. there was no possible way that this woman, this veritable ball of sunshine, was a dangerous terrorist… was there? mercy didn’t usually allow herself to become so taken with others, but she’d seen enough scumbags in her line of work to become a fairly decent judge of character. most of the people she was sent after were hardened and cruel, chiseled by hard times into brutes with jagged edges and nasty attitudes.

this girl was all smiles and softness.

she wasn’t sure this was a job she really wanted now.

“i’m just passing through… decided to stop in for a drink before i left. name’s mercy. who’re you, if you don’t mind my asking?”

as if she didn’t already know, as if she hadn’t received a dossier on jessie raspberry moments before.

such dishonesty made her stomach churn.

〚 ❣ 〛 “Name’s Jessie,” she says with a grin, leaning one elbow on the bar and fanning herself. She’s ready for that shower, lukewarm probably so she doesn’t freeze but can also cool off after working in the sun all day. Her mind is focused on the drink and her shower and her hand’s inability to fan herself any cooler that she doesn’t consider this Mercy woman’s reasoning too deeply.

“And you’ve come to the right place if you’re just passing through. Wall Market might have some damn good drinks, but Tifa can mix up anything you’re craving better than any of them.” A pause and Jessie laughs. “I might be biased, though. Probably am.” Another laugh and a glance around the bar, wondering where Tifa even could be. She purposefully doesn’t let her eyes linger on the arcade cabinet that leads down below, knowing Tifa would only be down there between hours and when closed. “Though if she doesn’t get back soon, I’m gonna have to hit up somewhere else, I’m dying.”

Her eyes return to the bar - namely, to the woman at the bar, finally really taking her in. She’s gorgeous, like topside gorgeous; near perfect skin, voluminous hair that’s way too soft for the slums, and clothing that Jessie’s sure she’s seen in shops when she used to shop for auditions. She suspects this new woman isn’t everything she says she is, but honestly, who in the slums is?

“Not to be weird, but if Tifa doesn’t show up in a few minutes, you want to go somewhere else? I don’t like drinking alone, but my friends are all still busy.”

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Random asks are love incarnate! | @dystcpiia​

biggs was tasked on a mission and he had to leave in a few minutes but before he does he storms inside the bar, he spots jessie speaking with tifa at the counter and he made his way there. they saw him and jessie had turn around about to ask him why is he here but before she could say a word biggs grabs her face and kisses her lips right in front of everyone, jealous bitches be damned and so any mean rumors coming. he pulls back with a smirk. "just here to claim my kiss for good luck." 

Jessie isn’t surprised by Biggs coming to through the door of the bar, but his entrance this time feels grandiose, a big presence making a statement that might normally have been something much smaller, quieter; a simple entrance rather than bursting into the bar and striding purposefully towards Jessie. She turns to look at him, but he gives her little chance to say anything before he kisses her, holding her close, possessive but not forceful, and she can’t help but smile into the kiss.

“Well, it’s yours,” she says with a laugh, though she doesn’t let him go, slings her arms around his shoulders and stands on her toes so she can kiss him again, deeply, feeling the comfort of his arms around her waist. Safe, protective. She’d never let him go if they had that sort of option available. They don’t, though, so she pulls back from the kiss and winks at him.

“You won’t keep me waiting long, right?” She grins and brushes her thumb against his lower lip before letting him go completely. “Good luck on your mission, Biggs. I’ll be waiting!”

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@boundbyhonor​​ continued from here

     Cloud was glad to discover that Jessie had made it out alive thanks to the lucky save from Biggs. Apparently he used what strength he had left to get them to safety just before the supports were disengaged and the pillar collapsed under the weight of the plate above. It was probably sheer willpower that moved Biggs that night. Cloud had been deeply affected by the last words he shared with both Biggs and Jessie and he felt a swell of happiness form within him when Jessie suddenly appeared to join them at the Golden Saucer. She looked a little worse for wear, clearly still recovering from her injuries, but she continued to press forward in spite of this. In the short time that he’d known her, Cloud learned that she wasn’t the type to give up easily—not when there was so much at stake. Tifa kept insisting that her friend should take it easy and not push herself too hard and Barret seemed to support that idea as well. The large man was grumbling under his breath about Shinra but otherwise looked happy to know his fallen friends had made it out after all.

     There was a lot more on their plate now than just Shinra.

     While her teammates expressed their relief and joy over Jessie’s (and Bigg’s) survival, Cloud stood off to the side with Red, who was sitting on his haunches next to him. His arms were folded across his chest and he was staring down at his boots when Jessie approached. She leaned in, bringing her face close to his and he lifted his gaze to make eye contact with her. ‘We should go out on a date. An official one.’ This was the first thing she wanted to say to him? Letting out a snort, Cloud gave a little shake of his head and had to look away from that grin she had plastered across her face. There she was, making him smile again. Maybe the third time really was the charm because Jessie wasn’t met with reluctance and him groaning like before. “Sure,” he said, giving a shrug as if to keep up his aloof demeanor. “We can go on a date.” Truth be told, Cloud would have shown up at her place for that pizza she promised him, had things turned out differently. They were being given a second chance—not everyone could be so lucky.

     He shifted his weight from one foot to another before adding, in a voice so quite that only she’d be able to hear, “... Glad you made it out, Jessie.”

〚 ❣ 〛 If nothing else, Jessie’s good at being unexpected, and on seeing her friends enter Cosmo Canyon, she worked her way to them, let Barrett lift her off the ground while she greeted everyone - everyone except Cloud. Always good at sticking to the edges, that guy, but he didn’t escape her notice. There’s a bit of a debt she feels she owes him, too. She can’t remember exactly what her last moments on the tower were, but she remembers the comfort of him holding her hand and the tinge of sadness to his words. She knows she can be a lot to deal with, and even he had seemed frustrated with her at times, but she saw those smiles, knows that at least some of that was a front.

So when she gets a moment with him when the others aren’t hovering close and making sure she’s alright (she isn’t, but she’s better than she was, and that’s something), she lands a date request on him right away. It makes her laugh because she doesn’t expect much from it; she gave him enough shit to last a lifetime, this is probably just another layer of it to add to the irritation she knows she can inflict on others far too easily.

But he agrees, then proceeds to tell her he’s glad she made it out, and something about that hits a little too close, and her hands grip his shoulders a little tighter as if to keep her from falling. She doesn’t, but weeks of recovery still haven’t healed the fear that maybe she was the only one who made it out, that she had feared for her life in a way she knew could happen but didn’t think would hit her so soon. The nightmares still haven’t left, the creaking of metal can have her flinching, her body is still in pain from it all. But even with all of that, with the injuries and the trauma and possibly being one of so few survivors, she’s also glad she made it out.

“Thanks,” she says, tries to sound normal but her voice breaks a bit at the end and the burn in her eyes threatens tears to fall, and she doesn’t think she could stop it now even if she wanted to. “I’m glad you guys did, too. I don’t know what I’d have done if...” A catch in her throat and she shakes her head, tries to just smile at Cloud. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re all okay.”

[phantomarchive]

@dogof-war whoops my hand slipped

She was young when he saved her, and she’d learned some hard truths of the world back then. Some men don’t care what happens to the world, to the soft and good people in it; and some will fight to save that innocence, even at the cost of their own lives and freedom. Heidegger had saved her. She’d memorized his badge number as he’d held her close, out of the line of fire and sight of the madman that had kidnapped her for unspeakable evils she learned about far too early in life.

MID-0749

The numbers are engraved in her mind even now, ten years later. Would he be proud of the woman she’s become? Would he care? He can’t write her back, and she doesn’t know if he’s even getting the letters anymore; and if he is, does he care? Or does he just see it as a stupid little girl who’s held on just a little too tight for a little too long? She can’t help it, though. He saved her. She was able to live her life because of him, even if that life has seen plenty of ups and downs, she’s alive and studying to get out of this hellhole of an apartment in this corrupt city, however that needs to get done.

The pole has become a friend of hers. By day, she studies while taking small acting gigs in whatever soap opera needs her, but by night, she grinds a pole for money, smiles at the men surrounding her stage, tempts them with thoughts of what if tonight more comes off, and they throw cash at her and she pays her bills and gets groceries and tucks some away for tuition. She’s become good at it, the pole a fellow athlete helping her body become stronger, until it isn’t just dancing, but training. She’ll be a lawyer someday, though her toned body implies vigilantism. Maybe both. Like Batman.

The thought - not the first time she’s had it - brings a smile to her face, and it looks sultry as she winks at a man close to her, his eyes traveling from her chest to her face, a grin overtaking his face with the attention she gives him. He won’t get more than that tonight except maybe a sweep of her dress she’d taken off at the beginning of her performance. A stage actress in an old style show, full skirts and corsets, until she carefully pulls it off, one lace at a time, until she’s in the corset with her breasts nearly bursting from them, a fitted pair of panties that threaten to reveal much to the world were they not snug enough not to. Accessories and bits of flair add jingling to the sway of her hips and accentuate her figure somehow more than what little she wears.

This is her life right now, and when she gets home, she’ll write Heidegger another letter before passing out, falling asleep, and waking again to put on her glasses, pull her hair into a messy ponytail, and set herself up for studying the afternoon away. Such a stark contrast, but Jessie has seen some of the other girls outside of their jobs, and it seems they all take comfort in the layers of clothing they wear off the stage.

[phantomarchive]

Random asks are love incarnate! | @dystcpiia (I think you’re still in tumblr jail, it won’t let me tag you properly!)

biggs is here to give jessie kisses. // remade the blog so here i am :3c 

Even if Jessie weren’t hyper-focused on working on her bike, she also has a pair of headphones in and the volume of her music turned out loud enough to drown out the world around her. Sweaty, covered in grease, and smelling particularly like sweat and too much sun, she doesn’t anticipate that anyone would want to approach her, touch her, much less kiss her. But Biggs isn’t just anyone, and he doesn’t hesitate to plant kisses across her neck and face.

Laughing, Jessie pulls one earbud out and turns to look at him, grinning. “Good to see you, too,” she says, rubbing her cheek against his stubble and inevitably smudging grease across his face. “You here to help, or just get a whiff before taking off?” She raises one arm, the side of her tank top clinging to the side of her arm as she does so. “I need a shower.”

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Diamond’s been waiting forever for Jessie to play with him! | @soulcluster​

Diamond drops a saliva-soaked ball in front of Jessie and looks up hopefully. 

Jessie always prefers the long days spent outside working on her bike, covered in grease and sweat and sunshine. She loves the pleasant aching in her limbs after she gets done for the day and collapses into bed after a shower and passes out to some movie or CD, Diamond at her side. She also loves that Diamond gets to run around outside and work off a lot of his energy.

When he brings her his ball for what must be the hundredth time, she picks it up with just as much enthusiasm as before and laughs. “You’ve got the energy of a puppy,” she says, ruffling his fur with one hand, hefting the ball with the other, uncaring about the saliva soaking it through. It comes with the territory of animals, and she isn’t going to be disgusted that her dog is being a dog.

“Alright, D, go get it!” With as much strength as she can muster, she stands and overhand throws it as far as she can, knowing he’ll get it within minutes, but still wanting to give him the enjoyment of the chase and the hunt before they do it all again.

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Crow doing Jessie’s hair is actually super cute | @turkoftheslums​

As Crow situates himself behind Jessie, he removes her hair tie with the gentle patience of an experienced older brother and brings her hair together in a simple Dutch braid. The work goes by silently, save for answering any questions Jessie might have. Once he's done, Crow moves back to assess his work (which he may or maybe not have snuck a flower or two in) and smiles with pride - though not at his own work. "You should pay me t'do your hair if y'ever get married, Blackberry." 

The first time Crow ever asked to do Jessie’s hair, there was no way she could have expected what she got. Namely, a pretty damn good hairstyle. Maybe nothing quite like what she used to have on stage, but considering he’s working with limited supplies and no professional training, she’s pretty impressed with what he does. Twin braids that fall into pigtails that he curled for her; high ponytails lined with flowers, fancy twists and buns with gems dangling from them when she had the occasional date.

So when he positions himself behind her and starts pulling gently at her hair, she knows she’s in good hands. She makes occasional conversation, asks him what he’s doing (”you’ll see, stop asking!”), but mostly just plays a puzzle game on her phone while relaxing for a bit.

Finally, he declares himself done, tugging gently on the ends of the braid he’s woven down the back of her head, and she turns her phone camera on to take a look at it. “Y’know, on the off chance I ever get married, you’ll do everyone’s hair.” She carefully touches part of the braid, including brushing fingertips over the petals of the little flowers he’d tucked in along the way. “You think Biggs’ll marry me? I bet he would.”