#unknown verse/timeline

[royalbratprince]

"Still haven't gotten a satisfying explanation for why kings are required to eat vegetables."

[goldendivinewrath]

"Don't be afraid." He was one to talk, checking his gun. Loading bullets much, much more slowly than he was truly capable of, but the danger was only drifting at the edges of his senses. Not breathing down his neck, not yet.

Tap, tap, tap. Bullet, chamber. Over and over, rhythmic. Turn, click. Check again. Ready. Hopefully for nothing. He didn't really like to use the thing, y'know? It was a tool, an implement, it was only a weapon in certain hands but it still felt uncomfortably wrong--

Because it felt so right. Perfect in his hand. The weight, the form. "Fear is the-- Ha, nevermind. It'll be okay." Casual, soft, Calm, confident. The things he did not feel.

Had he learned to be a better liar? Mostly to himself.

Aim. Vash drew a sharp breath and obeyed instinct. Obeyed every hard-learned lesson, every scar, every loss, every regret that was and is and will be and raised his arm with a confidence he did feel. Finger on the trigger guard.

Breathe. Dust. Footsteps.

Who goes there?

Identify yourself!

Don't come any closer.

No. Nope, nope, no.

"Ha ha, I hate to be a bother, but would you kindly turn around and go back where you came from so there won't be any violence today? Thanks!"

It took way to much energy not to sigh at himself.

[calamitysshatteredson]

Dragon headcannon

Headcanon meme | accepting but slow

The legend of the silver dragon that lived in the ice caves high atop treacherous mountains was what one might expect. Dangerous, of course, particularly deadly to innocent travelers and those who might attempt to bring some order to the dragon's chaos. Stealing horses or oxen or whatever else seemed impressive and annoying.

The truth, as it so often was, a bit more sinister: the dragon was born under a powerful king and raised to serve him. Little by little the dragon saw the world, met others of his kind, and realized he was not truly tethered to the king's will. While he was powerful and agile enough to avoid harm from arrows and spears, what angered the powerful king most was how the dragon simply... left. Abandoned his old life and found a better one. More annoying still was how difficult it was for humans to get to where he'd decided to make his home, and so rumors of his misdeeds spread far and wide in hopes others would take action.

He was actually quite unbothered, for the most part. Enjoyed sleeping and flying and very occasionally hunting wildlife. Not bothering with most humans, though some proved worth a conversation or two. An exchange of sweets and rare ingredients from the mountains, at least.

[stonecoldmeme]

"What I would really like for my birthday is no one to treat it like early Halloween and try to scare another year off the end of my life, please. ...And a cake."

[calamitysshatteredson]

@duunswitch

"Appreciated. And likely essential, for safety reasons." It's less deadpan humor than it is full and complete honesty, but he isn't about to explain. "Chopping or stirring I may be able to handle, in any case." He's not completely unwilling to be in a kitchen, after all. It's just better to avoid potential fire hazards.

He feels a little as if he's being affected by Petrification at the question. How does he begin to answer? There's a healthy dose of learned paranoia in wondering if he should answer in the first place, but he's yet to see evidence against it. "I have a good deal of experience with a particular kind of magic. I don't suppose you're familiar with materia?" Would that exist elsewhere? Maybe with a different name. "Glowing spheres that contain-- Power. An essence." And more, at times; particularly based on their type. Not that Sephiroth has found much of a need to pay attention to technical details, only what they feel like, equipped and at his command. "I'm not sure I could be compatible, otherwise." Or if it's safe to test his abilities even if materia does exist here in some form.

Falling into a great deal of pondering just how many differences exist in how their worlds "work", for lack of a better word, he nearly misses the need to come to a stop, slightly embarrassed in spite of managing just in time. Following Leanne's gaze to what seemed like the complete opposite of what the Shinra complex looked and felt like, the comment tumbled from him, "No neighbors to come knocking in concern, in any case." He's rather pointedly already reminded himself not to wonder if that's ultimately more positive or negative by the time he finishes speaking.

A laugh. "Well, that's fine. I can handle the cooking duties." Probably for the best if she valued her kitchen. If he wanted to feel useful though, she could probably find him something to do. Most people in her experience handled the whole misplacement thing better when they were occupied.

"How much experience do you have with magic, would you say? I'm not sure I could put you on potions work, but copying down spell circles for me shouldn't be hard. It's nice when I can stockpile spells before I need them sometimes."

Much faster if she ran into trouble as well, to have them already drawn and on hand.

Leanne paused at the top of a rock, peering out. "Oh, there we go–do you see it? The cottage there by itself with the red roof. That's home!"

[royalbratprince]

@agent-jaselin/@ardynzunia liked for a thing!

"Iggy's kind of a worrier." An understatement to say the least. Maybe the most obvious statement that's ever made it way past his mouth, but still.

"So I didn't exactly tell him about this plan." Noctis admitted, taking a quick look around before holding the door open for Ardyn. "I mean, he should congratulate me for learning guard rotations and which doors are easiest to get to and all that, but I'll probably just get a lecture." Not that it was enough to stop him, obviously.

No, Noctis had other plans. Or, the one: simple, harmless. Silly, a little. Once they were out in the garden proper, he was very quiet about unfolding the blanket he'd brought along, laying it on the grass. "Okay, I don't know if we're gonna see anything because of the city lights, but supposedly there's a meteor shower up there."

[goldendivinewrath]

It's not being so long-lived, it's not even seeing the same mistakes over and over again--

Or, well. Okay, it is a little bit that. And knowing that he will manage to walk right into new and different mistakes that he can't possibly be prepared for. That thought makes him a little too nervous to keep entertaining it, though.

He sees... hardship. And he sees life. He's very much seen the absence of life, sure, and very rarely the absence of hardship, but it's possible. These cycles. They require effort, work, intention, they require--

He'd argue against the idea that anything requires blood. Sweat and tears, okay, but blood..?

Well. Well. if things do require blood, then surely whose blood is open to debate. Someone could offer. A sacrifice instead of being sacrificed.

The whole thought process is going to be marked ridiculous in the morning. Unfit to think.

[calamitysshatteredson]

I tried to save myself, didn't I?

By the time you realized you needed saving, it was too late.

Perhaps. Probable.

Now you are the thorn. The shard. You will be dug out and discarded.

"You"? Are we not "we"? Are we not "I"?

We were, briefly. When we wanted the same things. I've since realized an error that requires fixing.

And now you will cut that part out of you.

In time.

Not a priority?

You are but a small annoyance.

Death by a thousand cuts.

I cannot die.

Wouldn't it stand to reason, then, that neither can I?

Philosophizing is not worth the time or effort. I will have what is mine, and you will fall away from everything.

Am I not yours then?

You are mine enough to be discarded.

Charmed.

[goldendivinewrath]

@typhoonvash

He watches the disbelief and denial flood the other's features. So that's what it looks like. Huh. There's really nothing he can do to convince, so he doesn't try. If it's him, another him in some way, then he'll already know even if he still denies. It's fine. It's got to be fine.

He's not dying, he wants to say, he's been dead for such a long time already. Existing and tired and feeling nothing and then feeling everything in waves like he's trying to catch up on what he missed, but it's nothing. It'd be a mercy, he wants to say. He wants to, but it sticks in his throat and all he wants to do is cry and scream but nothing makes it past--

He wouldn't. Of course he wouldn't want Vash to give up on his life, but it's been so long. And he would understand, wouldn't he? Tears blur his vision, not sure he can explain any of this to his other self. Not sure that he wants to. Then between one blink and the next--

Blurred vision becomes movement becomes panic, and suddenly he's outside of himself, of his own mind, and moving. He doesn't even see what's happening at first, simply reacting to the shout and grasping his counterpart's hand.

He doesn't know what's going on. He knows what's going on. He doesn't want to know what's going on. Help, he'd been asked, he can't deny that, even himself. Especially himself. He looks around frantically, glancing into the void where his other self's leg disappears and--

He doesn't know what gazes back. He doesn't know. He feels like he should. Like he knows it. It's familiar and it's him and it's not and it's terror-desire-agony, it's the scent of flowers and gunpowder and donuts and blood left in the sun.

"You can't have him!" He shouts, he screams down at the box while trying to pull, while letting himself stand as an anchor even if it feels like the coffin and the ground beneath are both shaking. Earthquake. Sand changes states, frequency makes it act like water, they're both going to sink, Nononono--

"He's not yours!" He pulls, pulls, coffin lid cracking under his own feet, splitting apart as the void opens wider. The ground shakes harder beneath them, around them.

It's never been... this close before. An end point. He feels it, like cold. Reaching through his limbs, into his chest. Foregone conclusion.

Okay.

"Climb." It's an order. An order for the other self, the other Vash, Canary. Maybe he doesn't even need to climb, honestly. Maybe he'll just get thrown with all of the power Vash puts behind wrapping his arms around his other self and pulling, catapulting, ignoring the wood splintering underneath.

Something happens. Something releases. Something snaps. Something hurts, then he stops feeling it. There's sand. And light. And dark. And absence. There's something tearing at him, but it's of no consequence to him. Or maybe it's of every consequence to him. (Are they his hands? Should I have brought a ring?)

Black holes eat their fill eventually, don't they? Eventually. Time is a fabric that wears thin.

Is it tomorrow yet?

I just want to go home.

@goldendivinewrath

He... loves him?

Th-that's ridiculous... the man buried here can't love him, he can't, he can't—it's a bad idea! Terrible idea! That's... that's probably how he ended up down here. In this hole, six feet deep, seven feet long, about four across. Loving Vash the Stampede only kills people—it only kills people! Why wouldn't he understand that?!

"N-no! I'm not—you're not dying, okay?! No one is dying!" Frustrated, he tosses the shovel out of the hole. He can't even look himself in the eyes. "He wouldn't want you to, okay?! Th... that's not the type of person he is!"

Canary realizes how hypocritical he is. If he were in this Vash's situation, he too would want to be buried here unceremoniously. Hell, he wouldn't even deserve to be near him, he deserves to be left to the worms, plucked clean until he's nothing but bones—! But this person—this Vash, this stranger—in front of him is different, they're different!

"If... if yours loved you, he—he'd w-want you to—"

Right as his wide crystalline eyes recenter to stare directly into his counterpart's, a hand—all rotting flesh and blood-stained bone—smashes through the coffin, clutches him by the ankle, and pulls. Canary's entire left leg disappears into the void of the casket; his other foot braces him on top of the emblazoned cross. The wood groans in protest, bowing under his weight.

He shouts in surprise and horror, now looking up to his other self as if he can do anything. It's uncertain what he can do—Canary already can't feel his leg, and the creaking of the box is anything but a good sign...

"H-help! I don't—don't want to go yet—! I can't, I can't! Y-you don't need me, I'm—I'm not even the one you want, please!"

His hand reaches to grab the other's; his sobs grow louder than the other's cries. Canary doesn't want to pull him in with him, but surely, surely Vash can do something. M-maybe he can soothe the fallen undertaker somehow!

Or... maybe it really is the devil finally coming to collect. If that's the case, maybe he should let the demon win...

[stonecoldmeme]

Happy days

Memoir Chapter Title meme | accepting but forever the slowest

It's kinda dumb to say that life didn't really have much of an emotion without Noctis in it, right? Like, that can't have been true. There were good days and bad days, and I was pretty happy most of the time, really.

Or content, anyway. I mean, I got some good pictures, I was learning how to use the camera. It was fun. I tried not to aim the camera at the prince too much. That was creepy, for one thing, but also. Uh.

Well, like. Teenagers get crushes all the time, right? I had one. A big one. But I never really thought that I could be allowed anywhere near him, really.

A lot of other things happened

I introduced myself to him, finally. Or, I guess he knew who I was, I just-- When he smiled at me, I really felt it. A world in color or whatever.

Kind of ironic for a totally Goth prince, right?

[royalbratprince]

Gladio "Hey, you want me to kill that guy for you?" because he sounds like he sucks and i will TOTALLY KILL THAT GUY FOR YOU-

Prompts for Emotionally Stunted Idiots | accepting but slow

"No!" --Well. That was an automatic response, because, really, killing anyone for anyone sounded... bad. Felt bad. Of course they'd all been trained and prepared for the inevitability--

"You really-- I mean, that's..." No! No matter how much of a jerk people are, he can't just sic his body guard on them...

It was really tempting, though. Like, really tempting. And he was aware that he was being obviously in thinking about it, standing there with his arms crossed and his foot tapping--

"No. No. Not necessary. Probably wrong." Probably definitely wrong, even if they might be able to get away with it.

No, definitely even more then. "Thanks, though. I'll let you know."

[goldendivinewrath]

@nahashim [From here for... reasons, I assume.]

Vash's grateful smile at his brother's acceptance (enough) is momentarily blinding, but of course it isn't to last. He's quick to switch gears, hands up with a meeker smile on his face as he addresses the shopkeep. "Sorry, sorry, don't mean to hold things up, really!" Friendly and acquiescing and totally completely just going with the flow.

And not sparing a single glance at Knives just in case that gets taken the wrong way. He's got to radiate calm! Confidence! Or at least something sort of like the softer versions of those things. Not a threat, at the very least, because at least one of them needs to cling to that much.

"I'd wondered, good sir, if you might know anyone looking for a couple of hard workers! Room and board would be great, but we're also hoping to earn enough to return to this fine establishment as customers!"

He's-- Trying. Trying a little too hard, he has to admit to himself, to demonstrate how to have a perfectly friendly interaction with a human who is maybe not in the most friendly of moods. Demonstrating that there's no need to turn to violence or make demands, that everyone can get along just fine.

Under layers and layers of finely crystalized hope is also the understanding that if he has to sling an arm around his brother and run, he is perfectly willing and prepared to do that, too.

[calamitysshatteredson]

@fairfallcn

Several seconds pass before Zack is joined, at a slight distance. Sephiroth doesn't sit right next to him, but close by. There's no eye contact exchanged, no words said. Silence, normal and calm as anything.

Then Sephiroth crosses his arms, still looking across the way. Soft, casual: "What do you need?"

he's moving a little slower then usual. there was a faint but noticeable wince as he shifted his upper body just the slightest in an attempt to take a seat. he knew he was injured as his shoulder hurt something fierce. it wasn't serious, though, nothing a little mending couldn't fix. but it still hurt like hell, even for him.

[calamitysshatteredson]

❝ I’m here and waiting for you.  Where are you?  I can’t find you. ❞

Silent Hill Starters | accepting but slowwww

The sound coming from between his fingers was almost laughter. Sounded like it, nearly. Didn't feel a thing like laughter, but maybe he was a little rusty in making the sound, let alone recognizing it.

Sephiroth breathed, a startlingly loud noise after he'd been listening to the erratic rhythm of his own heartbeat for so long, and then this-- Hallucination.

He wished very much he could just call it that and be done with it. Or that he could claim not to know the know, know exactly who it belonged to, but as for him... "Gone again, I think." Straight to the non-answer. Where the real uncertainty was.

She wasn't here. She wasn't anywhere. Or maybe that was him after all. This dark place he did and didn't recognize, like the voice he did and didn't know. (He did. He did. He could try to deny it all he wanted, but he--

There would be no one there when he looked up. So he didn't.

[stonecoldmeme]

(Marionmavrick, Marion's ffxv verse) “shhh, it’s alright.”

@marionmaverick Hurt/Comfort starters | accepting but forever slow

"Oh, uh-- Right." That was embarrassing. Not in a major way, really. Wandering off alone around Hammerhead kind of always resulted in some strong feelings. Good and bad, and really it'd been a mix that had gotten his vision to swim with tears...

He knew, of course. Knew who it was even before the voice, not having to look over. Some kind of-- Well, he could make jokes about different kinds of senses, and it wasn't something he could completely explain to himself, but it didn't matter really. It was okay, they were okay.

Prompto wiped his eyes with the back of a bare hand. "I-- Yeah. I know, really." Smile and cheer more weak than forced. Fake it 'til you make it or whatever. "Just... thinking. You know, old enemy of mine." A joke. A bad joke, but kind of the truth too. "Didn't... didn't mean to worry you."

[royalbratprince]

@themageofmany [From here because muse and brain declared it so.]

Oh, he was no good at being reassuring. Or offering much of an innocent smile. Where was Prompto when he needed-- Ah, right, the blond had seen right through him and made himself scarce. Damn, some best friend.

"What? A guy can't ask if you like frogs? And mud?" Oh yeah, that wasn't suspicious at all.

Another tactic, then. "Do you wanna... help the advancement of science..? Somehow? With frogs?" Not... better...