[closed] dreams must end

[blitzcheer]

WHO: Tidus &

» Squall Leonhart (silentnarration) : link (nov)
» South Dakota (whosthemonsternow) : link (nov)
» Tifa Lockhart (final7thheaven) : link (nov)
» Nida Nomura (skyward_eyes) : link (dec)
» Loki Odinson (morethanatrickster) : link (dec)
» Steve Rogers (waypastasking) : link (dec)
» South Dakota (whosthemonsternow) : link (honk)

WHAT: late november bump-ins eyyy
WHERE: Around the city
WHEN: late november, early december
WARNINGS: dumb physical fighting w/ squall, some alcohol use implication+violence with nida, more to be added later.

Comments

» squall leonhart

[blitzcheer]

He should be doing something. Something, anything; something with a purpose, something that meant anything. There was a buzzing living inside Tidus’s head ever since he found out—since the dam he’d attempted to plaster with excuses had burst, leaving him with nothing but anger. An anger with no target, no goal. Nothing to do but to fester inside him, chewing at his insides.

And what was he doing now to remedy it? Wandering, the city morphing its architecture from one corner to the next, yet the buildings continuing to crowd all around. It made his mood worse somehow, but so did everything. He couldn’t keep inside the dorm doing nothing, yet swimming in a pool filled with obnoxious sounds bouncing around his ears wasn’t going to help. And what else did he have? There were plans before, considerations; a hope he could be normal, find some understanding in himself and all that happened before the city. There was everything that could have been, and sure, it was hopeful. Maybe idealistic. He knew the city was trouble, but still…

Yuna…

The sounds change, the whirring of automatic doors and a sudden burst of heat, and Tidus doesn't pay the store any attention. His gaze is set only as far in front of him as need be, where the open space ahead starts to close into a narrow alley. There’s feet, and he’s seen plenty on the trek that’s taken him out here, but there’s something about this time and place, just something about them, that burns the fuel in him.

Tidus quickens his pace, head kept hung, his shoulders stiffening as his hands (with their knuckles already sore, but that's a comfort) shove away into his pockets.

And he less than subtly shoves himself into the person where there’s an obvious wide berth of space available to either of them.

[silentnarration]

Squall avoids Premium Foods when he can. Some of his former coworkers still work there and are generally glad to see him, even give him their employee discounts when he has to shop there, but he'd rather not have anything to do with the place anymore. He'd never felt more beat down than working retail.

Naturally, that means the next time the city streets shift, he finds himself walking along the familiar alley alongside the grocery store. He clicks his tongue, annoyed, and kept walking. He's had enough of this city. It granted him a chance to make amends but everything is right on the edge of being taken away too. He paid no mind to the blond coming his way, except he kept coming his way.

By the time he opens his mouth to say something, Tidus is already in his space and-- that was a shove. There's no way that wasn't a shove. He scowls and steps to the side, annoyance coloring his face and voice.

"Watch it."

[blitzcheer]

Tidus is already turned to face Squall, chin up, finally having reason to acknowledge more than their lower half. Sounds and looks like a promise, and it makes him giddy behind his own hardened stare, gives a target for the bite he wants to take so desperately. His fists come out with his right hand splaying out, waving in a mock gesture. Expression hardened, his brow as tight as the hard pull of his mouth.

“Do something about it,” he goads, voice thick. Tidus steps forward, and he's aware of his own limbs, watching for Squall's—and he won't stop stop moving into his space until he has to practically bump Squall again.

He startin'.

[silentnarration]

What's up with this kid? Squall narrows his eyes and takes a step back to adjust and shift into a more stable stance, fists clenched at his sides. Tidus is obviously looking for a fight. Fine by Squall. He needs a release of his own.

He throws a punch first the moment Tidus is within arm's reach, aiming for his face. No hold's barred. He doesn't have a reason to hold back when the blond started it first.

[blitzcheer]

The incoming fist meets his left arm waiting for such a move, the knock it receives still uncomfortable, but it’s a minor inconvenience, a pain he wants. Tidus returns his right hand into a ball to jab at the guy’s upper gut, his other going to grab at the shoulder of his coat, shirt, whatever he’s wearing, and to start pushing him backward—if just to throw him off balance mentally or to actually throw him off his feet for real.

» south dakota

[blitzcheer]

He’s been moving in a daze. It’s different from when he arrived here: where the city was even more surreal, its and his existence those things he questioned, because he was in that bizarre position to do so and not be completely crazy. It had been dream-like: bumping into Yuna, the spiel the Head fed him, the provided essentials for living and the freedom that came with it. All wasn’t as it wanted to appear, and Tidus knew, learnt—yet there was always that hope. Hope was what kept you going. Hope was holding Yuna and knowing she could hold you back this time, that you weren’t going to be quite so alone.

Tear it out, and you find just how much it can encompass you and leave you hollow. Tidus doesn’t think, but his head whirrs with a buzzing.

It’s an unfortunate scene, loud and attracting: a person just trying to hand out leaflets to those passing the streets, and they’re feeling enthusiastic despite the cooling weather. Just take it they say when Tidus tries to step aside, shoving themselves back in his way. They’re pushy but not hostile, just eager, patting the paper to Tidus’s chest.

Tidus offers them a fist back for their trouble, knocking them straight onto their back. He stares wide-eyed and wild but sees nothing, the buzzing between his ears growing louder. Onlookers stop and stare, and there's shouting, pained screaming, and Tidus might just grab at that person again with some kind of further intent, though even he doesn't know what.

Re: » south dakota

[whosthemonsternow]

South is minding her own business, not getting in any trouble or causing problems or doing something stupid for once. She's just planning a chill day, maybe more food than she could possibly need, possibly a nap. It's a sort of "Lazy Saturday" feel, she just wants to enjoy it.

Apparently, not everyone got the memo it's supposed to be a lazy, do nothing day.

The sounds of screaming has her curiosity perked and she can't help wandering over to catch a peek at who's doing what. She doesn't expect to see Tidus involved, and especially not looking like he's the one who has this guy squalling on the ground. She narrows her eyes a long second before she heads on over, still curious as hell but also a bit concerned. What happened to the little dopey puppy who she's pretty sure would hurt himself tripping over floppy puppy ears?

"This guy giving you problems?" She asks Tidus- fuck this guy, she doesn't know him! Plus, if the rando's squealing that loud, he's not dying or shit, so, double fuck him, he's fine. "You get attacked or something, fucked with? I swear to god I'll crush every single goddamn bone- You alright?"

[blitzcheer]

Tidus (who may also secretly be a basset hound in human form, from South’s perspective) drops the guy onto his back again with his scattered leaflets, advertising nothing more than a promotion for a music night. He’s heard South, but it still takes him a moment to acknowledge her: stumbling back on his own feet, his hands tense and frozen in front of his chest. Eyes still enlarged, even when he does look at South. If he wasn’t so tanned, he might just look pale.

“They— Yuna.” Now he stumbles against the tongue in his mouth. “It’s Yuna. She— they— they took Yuna!”

Anger follows her name, and he kicks the ground where the guy had been, having fortunately had the sense to scramble and already be collecting himself on his feet (but not with one last squeak at what could’ve just happened). Tidus’s hands go back into his hair, and he turns away, not knowing where to look, where to go, panic rising in him.

“They did something to her, didn’t they? They did something— and I wasn’t there! I wasn’t there!”

[whosthemonsternow]

Oh. Yea, that's bad. She's at a loss, staring at him oh so helpfully as he has his meltdown. Finally, her brain kicks into gear, and she moves to him, a faint hushing coming from her. South's hands lift then fall a few times until they finally reach out in an attempt to catch his shoulders, aiming to try and embrace him- awkwardly, if successful, very awkwardly because, well, she's not great at this...comforting and calming down thing. She's usually the one being soothed, not doing the soothing.

"Hey, hey, c'mon bud, c'mere..." She rumbles out in a low, soft hum of a tone. She's not going to say it's okay, because it's not okay, far from it.

"Titus, hey alright, listen. People pop in and out all the time- doesn't mean anyone took her or did something." She tries to explain, because she's heard of people being here one second and gone the next, innocent enough explanation like that, because other only other option is- "Look, even if you were glued to her, it wouldn't matter. It's bullshit, but it's outta your control here, Ti."

[blitzcheer]

Tidus doesn’t refuse South, but he doesn’t reciprocate, arms left hanging at his sides and his entire body a trembling mess of nerves. Was she right? Was she lying? Whether to be kind, or because always, they’re always listening. His hands clench and unfurl, and he hates that he doesn’t know what to believe. About Yuna. About anything.

“They told me they took her home. They showed me a video of her, back in Spira. From her perspective.” His voice shakes, but it’s low, head tilted to speak with some privacy near to her ear. “They said it was a mistake she was here. But they said it would take a year to send any of us home. People say, don’t believe them. They can't be trusted.”

His voice becomes rougher, harder to control. A heat growing in his words with the lump beginning to scratch at his throat.

“I found a—machine. It looked like her…” Sounded like her, just like her. Tidus grits his teeth, chokes on the sob he fails to keep back, that shudders through him.

“You told me what happened,” he finally says. With the machines. Tidus steps out of the embrace, head staying hung until he can find the strength to look at South in the eyes, unwavering. His cheeks red, eyes wet but refusing to break the dam. Watching her, waiting to see the truth in some form.

"Tell me what you really believe. I don't want lies."

» tifa lockhart

[blitzcheer]

The bell above the door chimes, and it’s nice to hear someone at the piano when he enters. Not that Tidus really focuses on it, but acknowledges the sound of the soft keys at play when he scans the bar section of the establishment, spots Tifa at work, a few customers dotted on the high seats enjoying their drinks.

It’s nice, and he feels like shit--and not just for the reasons burning pain over his body, the red scuff marks of a fight on his face, the arm he has no choice but to keep hanging at his side with ice disabling his hand. Tidus keeps his head low as he walks as naturally as he can to the counter, bringing himself to the end, not seating himself. Keeps the hand hidden against the side.

“Tifa?”

He faces the wall in front of him than to make himself too visible, only sneaking glances in Tifa’s direction until she’s close enough. When she is, he can’t hide the state of his face, the tell-tale signs of a fist fight, dirt and scratches from meeting the ground. And Tidus doesn’t try to, leaning his head in to speak quickly and apologetically.

“Can I go round back? Just twenty minutes to heal up--I’ll be quiet.”

If she turns him away, he wouldn’t blame her. Kind of a lot to ask after not showing up for a while, when he usually liked to visit her for lunch. Kind of a lot to ask even without that.

[final7thheaven]

Tidus is lucky when he makes his way into the bar. While there are a few patrons currently enjoying drinks, Tifa herself isn't so busy that she can't stop for a few minutes. Not that she would have made him wait once she saw Tidus' state. As soon as she sees him and can make her way over to him, she spots those signs. She's been in enough fights in her life to see the signs, the dirt and scratches and... is that ice on his hand? A frown creases her face as she sets down the cloth she was using to wipe down the countertop and she grabs another, a clean one this time, motioning for him to follow her.

"This way," she says, leading him to a small room to the side. It's empty so far and she closes the door so no one will interrupt. Chairs dot the room, along with some lights and a few tables. "What in the world happened to you?"

Concern colors her eyes as she looks him over. Everything she can see gives her the impression that he had a fight with one of the other residents. These wounds don't look like ones that were dealt by the Iterations. Granted, she isn't familiar with all of their abilities, but it still doesn't look like them to her.

"Give me a second and I can help heal some of that."

She'll have to dig the materia out of her pockets and make sure her Dragon's Claw weapon is appropriately equipped - she never goes anywhere without these, no matter where she is or what she's wearing. At least she has Restore materia in one of these pockets.

[blitzcheer]

“It’s fine.”

There’s an automatic quality to it, a sincerity put on to make her believe it, but stiff despite the attempt. Tidus takes one of the closest chairs without more than sweeping glance at the rest of the room, hissing sharply when the dormant punch to the gut reminds him it’s there, if helped soothed by an adrenaline high he’s starting to come down from.

But nevertheless. “It’s fine,” he says again, when Tifa says about getting something. Tidus raises his frozen hand to examine it, considering what the worst could happen if he tried breaking it. It didn’t hurt--at most, it tingled his knuckles, seemed to already be flaking and melting. Would it shatter his hand if he tried anything with it?

He can’t be mad, but it’s annoying anyway.

"I started the fight," he goes on, lifting his hand out just to show, "I just need this to go. I can do it."

[final7thheaven]

If he were anyone she really knew, she would probably give him something of a stink eye for starting a fight. She doesn't know him that well and she doesn't know who he was fighting with. For all she does know, whoever it was might have really deserved it. 

Her mind drifts to Sephiroth before she snaps herself out of it.

"Are you sure breaking it is the best thing to do?" she asks dubiously as she fits her gloves on and slots the Restore materia into the weapon. Giving her hands a slight shake, she lifts them and casts Cure on him. It's not at its normal power, but it's better than nothing and that will tell her how much else he'll need.

"At least let me look at your face. I've seen enough bar brawls to be able to tell if anything's broken." 

[blitzcheer]

Surprisingly, the ice breaks when she uses the cure spell after shimmering momentarily--and nothing else with it (like a hand), but it was never a threatening spell in the first place. Tidus switches from between the glove and the round object slotted in to the state of his hand, hesitantly flexing the fingers.

Nothing happens. Nothing feels like it’s going to happen. And that’s, well… That’s good. Tidus inhales softly though, as the spell works itself through the rest of his body. Reaching tender spots dulled by adrenaline and stupidity, aches giving comfort.

Physically, anyway. He nearly tips back his head to let Tifa see as asked, but instead he puts his hands out, pushing lightly on the duller side of the claws.

“I’ll heal it myself. It’s fine.” Third time might not be the charm, but he says it more desperately, trying to plead with her. “I did this on purpose, Tifa, you shouldn’t be worrying about me. I wanted this, y’know? I did this. I wanted it.”

The words sound wet and guilty by the end. He doesn’t deserve the pity, her energy. It was already bad enough he was here using her time, and his head lowers further out of shame, his shoulders hunching rigidly. It takes a moment for him to speak again under a rattled breath.

“I don’t wanna get in the way of your business.”

» nida nomura (cw: implied alcohol abuse, violence) - early dec

[blitzcheer]

Don’t draw attention to yourself. Don’t go into crowded places. Don’t make a scene.

Tidus has reason to follow the advice, but it’s harder to stick to once the days end and he’s left with nothing but the long nights to get through. What is he doing? What can he do? What does he think he can do? It’s easy to sink into those thoughts and to discard any half-hearted attempts of sleeping for outside ventures, for a bad habit that’s been far easier to pick up than he would’ve ever seen himself doing.

Don’t be the one to start the fight. Get the other guy to take a swing first.

It really is becoming a bad habit. One that’s easy to hide when you don’t have anyone around to care, the skills to patch yourself up. Fighting, healing--both lead him to a sleep far easier than anything else. And isn’t it good practice? Magic is limited, but he never did practice healing as much as he should have. He should keep doing it for that reason. He can make it make sense.

All he has to do to get started is to get some drinks in him, search the room for the most easily accessible figure to piss off, start a fight and get kicked out. It’s been a good pattern, easy to rely on, and it happens the same that night: him and some other, abused being hurled outside the bar, but Tidus knows better (at least with that) to never stick around. There’s people outside chatting and with only a small interest in the fiasco (rowdy behaviour, what’s new?), and Tidus is hunched shoulders and a quick pace as he leaves--not looking back, or he’d know sooner that he’s being trailed.

It’s three guys. He knows this once one’s grabbed his shoulder and dragged him towards the alley along the road they’ve been walking, nearly knocking him over, but another is kind enough to push him for a wall, grab him by his jacket, his breath rancid as he speaks.

There’s the possibility for him to slip away. It’s gone once Tidus jabs a knee for the guy’s gut, and his friends are there to pick up the slack, jumping for him.

[skyward_eyes]

This isn't the part of town Nida likes going into much. Bars tend to scatter through the area, and he avoids those like a plague. But it was silly to think he could truly avoid it. After all, he was out collecting scrap for Seifer, not to mention upkeep on the truck they kept at the warehouse.

He's used to the sound of scuffles, and as he did many nights, Nida swung the staff from his back and moved to go check. There was always the chance that it wasn't actually a fight. Just someone who chose to not live in the system, scrounging around and knocking shit over. What he finds instead?

Nida sighs and twists the staff through his fingers and then taps it against a nearby dumpster.

"Really guys? Three on one? That seems like really terrible odds for him. Tell you what, let's make this even. You three on me. That should give you, I don't know, a fighting chance."

He grins and rolls his shoulders. And, before he lets them really start to move, Nida throws himself forward, staff swinging out like it's a halberd, striking hard into the back of one of the men to make them fall over.

[blitzcheer]

The body on the ground creates a problem in anyone getting around to Nida, but one of the individuals don’t seem put off by the task, spitting an obscenity at Nida and lunging for him, like they don’t see the very lengthy pointy rod in Nida’s possession. Or maybe they think they can get in before Nida can react.

The second individual is one who had replaced the person who Tidus kneed, a cut lip and pounding at the back of his head credited to them, or partially to his earlier escapades. He lets go of Tidus however, seeing a bigger threat in Nida, rolling up a sleeve with ice crawling up the arm to the elbow, surrounding the fist he makes.

It’s an understandable decision out of the two ‘threats’--but it doesn’t stop Tidus from stifling their increasing approach with a hard jab at their back, faint golden rings shrouding them temporarily.

They’ve slowed--and even they seem stunned by their sudden lack of speed. And another easy target, if Nida would like the honours there. Tidus isn't quite as focused as Nida right now.

[skyward_eyes]

Interesting, the way they slow down. Nida didn't know there were any slow spell like augments here. But that doesn't matter. The trust of an arm means wind whipping out to slam one of the threats into the wall, the other earning the crash of a polearm into his leg. Fun. Nida thinks this is probably the best choice he's got right now, and he's going to take it.

Especially seeing as he doesn't want the one with the ice getting too close.

"Really, I expected more energy out of some idiots pummeling a single kid. This is the best we've got. I'm bored guys. Don't you care about my feelings at all?"

» loki odinson

[blitzcheer]

( continuing from this )

Mapphy’s isn’t a restaurant that moves far from its ‘designated’ road, but loves to jump around it, switching sides or which end of the street it sits on. Wherever it ends up though, it’s easy to spot by its blue signage that sticks out across its front, fancy despite edging into a baby blue shade.

Today, it’s somewhere tucked in the centre, with Tidus opting to wait outside than in, his back leaned against the brickwork. He’s dressed less than at the ball, more than at the NAPs meeting, but still casual by the standards of where jeans and a black and yellow baseball jacket zipped up fit that bill for whatever era.

He might be as easy to spot as the sign above him.

Tidus gives only the occasional glance down the streets while he waits for Loki than to appear too impatient, mostly leaving himself to watch his one hand propped up on his arms folded, idly letting the fingers flex. But once he does spot the prince, he moves off from the wall and onto his own feet, pulling his mouth not quite into a smile, but something of a greeting that goes with the nod of his head once Loki is near.

“Hi. How you been?”

He doesn’t ask it with his usual energy, but it’s friendly enough, more than just obligated pleasantries. It’s been a while since the ball, and Loki’s been an interesting enough guy in their two meetings. No reason not to ask.

[morethanatrickster]

While in recent months, Loki has been taking pains to improve his demeanor and behavior, or at least compliment it with a seasoning good intent, he's never one to pass up an extended hand, and the offer of a meal caught his attention. Not only that, but Tidus, for all his simplicity and tenacity, reminded Loki of a man he knew he'd never see again. He didn't mind his company.

Today he was dressed in more modern attire, a casual suit of deep green so as to nearly be back, with a yellow scarf, because why not? He nods in greeting as he approaches.

"I have been. Take that as you will." He notes the lack of enthusiasm, so obvious because of Tidus' boundless energy in the their previous meetings, but doesn't ask. Not yet. "And yourself?"

[blitzcheer]

Take that as you will. So Tidus does, with a small woof, not so lacking enthusiasm he express a pinch of sympathetic humour. But when the question draws back on himself, Tidus’s gaze drops, his head tipping hesitantly. “I’m…” Well. “I’ll be better.”

He was never a good liar, and knows that’s about as close to compromising to himself on a lie he will get, and at least he can express it like a goal. Tidus straightens himself following it, happy to continue. “I wanted to ask you ‘bout magic. If you’ve had any luck training it, changing it up? You okay talking about it over food?”

If there was much to talk about. Tidus was basing any magical knowledge Loki had on illusions, which hey, was still impressive by itself.

[morethanatrickster]

Tidus' response suggested something had happened that had left him in a sort of melancholy, but Loki opted not to pry. Given the chance, he'd rather avoid talking about feelings. He was horrid at it. A small, mostly ignored, voice in the back of his mind noted he was probably so abysmal at dealing with feelings because he avoided them so stalwartly.

Still, Tidus' true purpose took him by surprise and he blinked for a moment before recovering. No one save his mother, in all his years, had taken an interest in his magic. They'd tolerated it, teased him for it, distrusted him because of it, but never had they been interested in it. He recovered after a moment, smiling.

"Of course." He motioned toward the door. "After you."

» steve rogers

[blitzcheer]

There’s always things that are similar but different around the city. The way it works (in a general sense; not the underlying one of clones and abduction), the food, the mish-mash of cultures, the names for everything; there’s enough understanding to navigate through it without tripping up too much, and that's good.

Dualis’s gyms are the same--except, well, it’s way easier to trip up when you throw equipment into the mix. But the idea behind most of them is the same, which muscles they’re meant to work snapping into comparisons for the routines that Tidus did even back home. … Except one machine in the gym he’s decided on, nestled in a corner with about ten bars hanging off each side like wind-chimes. Tidus can’t figure out what that one is meant to be; maybe some species with ten arms? He never bothers to ask.

But while Tidus can gauge some familiarity in the equipment, in being in a gym, it ultimately feels alone and foreign. Building himself back up to a state of confidence, something like half a year out of a gym and now in another world’s one at that; the thoughts that tell him, what is he doing here?, you’re in over your head that cling to him, that he never had to deal with back home. At home, he had more direction. Here, just deciding, ‘I need to build strength’ doesn’t feel as focused as it needs to be, even with the research he can do online.

He feels alone. It shouldn't matter that he does.

Tidus doesn’t give up easy, but even after a week or two, he’s still not feeling a direction to his workout. But it’s a better place to pick fights at night with punching bag than an actual face, and, you know, there’s a guy he’s seen frequently who's the reason that has him trying them in the first place. Because whenever he does see the human-looking guy, whatever Tidus is doing, the man is usually still at it by the time Tidus is halfway done for the day.

Guy looks human, could be anything. Also, Tidus can match that stamina one day, alright? He’s still working up to it. Give him a … month.

Of course, it’s not as easy as it looks. Tidus has a go at the bags when the guy isn't there (not shy or anything), and it's not impossible to punch a bag, but keeping it up for as long as that man seems to? Alright, so slacking on his exercise since coming to the city has caught up to him in a bad way. But the competition solely in Tidus's head is fun, as much as his arms and knuckles may disagree. He's been learning some moves from Tifa, so he really should be getting used to this more.

But it might be that one-sided rivalry building in Tidus's head that makes him decide to approach the guy finally. Gauging him from a distance, and he doesn't look like he'd try crushing him with a stare for disturbing him; but just to be polite, Tidus picks a time when the man finally takes a break in his exercise, making his way over around the machines, and asks half-seriously, half-jokingly, all friendly:

“You ever throw those punches at anything than a bag?”

Man, do you have time to throw a punch at anybody else? Tidus's arms are folded across his chest, his back straight, absolutely not reaching Steve's height when at 5'10 (nor about to fill his width, either), but not about to be mistaken for anything less.

» south dakota (honking about a goose)

[blitzcheer]

“How can’t we find one stupid bird in a week!”

If Operation: Goose Hunt is meant to be a secret, this is one confidential topic Tidus isn’t keeping his voice down over. They’ve got their orders in, drinks with them and a table for two to sip them at, though Tidus is holding on that (and his soda) to complain some more:

“Are they even doing anything at the station? Looking at cameras? It’s like they grabbed a handful of us and said, you deal with it!” He waves his hand in a dismissive motion. “I can be doing anything else!”

Absolutely anything else! This is stupid! Dumb! He wants to speak to someone's manager!