dualislogs | [closed] dreams must end

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.

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."

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'.

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.

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.

Squall grunts when the punch lands, barely lessened by his failed attempt to pull out of the way. The movement halted by Tidus's grip on his sleeveless shirt. He loosens his fist to grab Tidus's shirt in turn, quick steps back at the push until he pivots to swap their positions so he could be the one doing the shoving. A much faster and harsher shove towards the wall.

Tidus’s back meets the wall easy with how close it is, the fabric of his jacket stopping an elbow scraping against concrete, leaving only a slight sting.

It’s inconsequential; what matters is the second where he questions if to let his defences go (let the guy at him, he deserves it) or to meet him just as hard (treat him as a replacement for what he didn’t get to stop). Yet his body answers for him, a fist coming to hit somewhere around Squall’s cheek or upper chest, wherever it manages to land.

Might as well keep giving the guy a reason to make him want to hurt.

It doesn't take much to goad Squall on. Of course a part of him knows how stupid this is but he's not keen on listening to his own reason right now.

He trades blows just as eagerly. He's fast and sturdy. Not as fast as a blitzballer and not an expert at hand-to-hand, but his hits land hard and sure with all his training as a mercenary, focusing on Tidus's torso, chest, and face. He even throws in a few grapples and throws to try and destabilize the other.

He doesn't do a lot of dodging except when he's trying to get a punch in. He wants the pain just as much as he wants a target to take his frustrations out on. It's only when a particularly good punch actually winds and staggers him that he throws up a hand and a block of heavy ice forms around Tidus's arm.

It's cold but it doesn't seem to hurt like conventional ice magic. In fact it seems to be healing any scrapes on that arm?

The magic doesn’t hurt, but discerning the actual meaning behind the tingling slipping through his skin and into the flesh is tricky in a situation like this. It works well to stun Tidus, leaves him open for a knock to his jaw, stumbling him backwards on his feet. Allows Squall time to try and collect himself if he likes.

When Tidus recovers, he lets out a small bark, hollow and weak, something in him clicking other than bone. But he doesn’t forget his opponent, raising his head, keeping his now disabled arm tucked by him as his other hand swings out for Squall, looking to make any contact--because even being blocked is enough, a sudden burst of darkness inflicting Squall’s sight. Not hurting, but not going anywhere, either.

Tidus backs away preemptively, to escape any thrashing that might come.

“Sorry,” he offers, voice low, but a note genuine. He sounds exhausted for more reasons than the heaving of his breath. “It won’t last long. ...You one of them?”

A fuck you would be a reasonable response too, all things considered.

He can sense that shift but doesn't get what it means, so of course he steps forward to block. His own motion freezing when a rather-familiar kind of darkness crosses his eyes.

He hisses, sharp and surprised and staggers back. It's certainly been a while. He holds his fists at his sides above his waist, trying to listen in place of sight. In case Tidus attacks again. He can still see a little but it's largely obscured, very much like 'darkness' at home.

"One of who?" He snaps. He's not looking for a fight anymore. More defensive than anything. "I'm not part of the city."

The confirmation is enough, plenty than he would have received--should have wanted to--from someone changed. That the guy could be lying (they all think they’re still them, don’t they?) is a flickering thought in Tidus’s mind, but he doesn’t care. The lashing fire in him cooled, withered down to leave him empty, aching. It’s always like this. Everything pointless and hopeless at once, but on the other end of the scale.

“Me and my friend, we weren’t here a month. Now she’s part of the city.” It must have happened just like this: abruptly, suddenly. Attacked and then gone. A good thing Tidus's mind can’t think so deeply, though it doesn’t stop his throat tightening. “You got someone to protect or you wanna live--you should take me out next time.”

He could be useful in that, at least, a resignation in the offer. But Tidus doesn’t plan for any payback to happen now, and he turns on his feet to start walking away. Right now, he wouldn’t even be good as a punching bag. He wouldn’t put up the fight.

Squall remains tense for a while longer but he relaxes the more Tidus talks. What the hell... He lost someone? He's aware people disappear, or at least, no longer stay at the dorms. Clint, Wanda... But his closest friends are still here. Maybe he should be thankful for that.

He lowers his hands to his side, waves away the block of ice. He rubs at his even though he knows that's not how you get rid of the status effect. Still, it's fading, enough for him to see Tidus retreat.

"Hey." He calls out. "You're not alone." He doesn't know Tidus but he knows the fear of losing someone he cares about. "If you want to be useful, meet me at the roof of the dorm tomorrow night."

Tidus stops when the guy calls out, not unwilling to listen, even lingering for a moment after the invitation is given. But Tidus then continues his leave, not getting out the ’okay’ that’s on the back of his tongue.

He’ll just be there at the spot instead. His back to one of the rooftop walls, sat on the ground with his arms propped on his knees. Away from where the chocobo shelter and the door leading up, but Tidus doesn’t keep a watch of it. When Squall should appear, he doesn’t even look over right away.

But when he does, Tidus waits -- to see what the guy’s mood is going to be and what he might say, quiet in a way that's unusual for him. It's probably not okay to jump in with a ’sup’ to the guy you started a fight with for no good reason.

Squall doesn't even care about that once the morning arrived. He's fought friends for less reason, it's just how it goes right?

... right?

Either way it's not Squall who speaks first but a chirped 'kweh!' from the almost waist-high young chocobo (too old to be a chicobo now). It's shifting its weight from claw to claw, bouncy and happy that Squall has collected him for the day.

"Hey." Squall says in his weird monotone while giving Boko his petting tax, approaching Tidus from the side. Maybe he should introduce Boko? Most people haven't seen a chocobo before apparently.

"I didn't think you'd show up." Which is probably why he got here rather late. Sorry. Not sorry.

Of course Tidus is going to pick his head up for a chocobo--he's depressed, not heartless. The sight of the guy even twitches his lips, makes it seem he might be smiling a little. It's not something that sticks.

"Figured I owed you," he says, a trace of humour in an otherwise dull reply. He'd say he likes it up here, but it's more complicated than that. Still never stops him from coming up there to sit in place of his tiny room when he couldn't sleep, as if the open sky gave the illusion of freedom.

So he follows with a "Sorry about that" instead, rubbing at a hand where the two meet off his knees in an embarrassed gesture.

At least one of them is smiling. Not that Squall is as much of a hard ass as he used to be. He tilts his head with a confused frown.

"You don't owe me anything." They fought. It was mutual. The end. He nudges Boko with a hand. "Go to the stable, Boko."

Boko kweehs in protest and bumps Squall hand instead. Squall should be used to not being listened to by now, honestly. He sighs.

"You're not afraid of chocobos, right?" He's coming over to lean against the wall, arms crossed. One knee bent with his foot pressed against it.

Tidus won't argue the point, opting for watching the exchange between the pair instead. It's nice and normal. Reminds him of how few animals he sees around here on a daily basis.

"They're fine." As in, he doesn't mind the chocobo -- Boko -- keeping out. "Where'd you find them?"

Boko peers between the two and warks cheerfully at Tidus, flapping flightless wings. Hello.

Normal isn't normal for Squall though he has to admit having Boko around has been nicer than he thought it would be.

"He was delivered to my door one month after I arrived. He was given to me back home too, follows me around when I travel by chocobo."

Well, Tidus can manage a better tug of the lips for Boko, a better smile for the little guy. Though his arrival for this guy -- the human guy -- does ease it some.

"He was with you before you showed here?"

Did they pop here together, even if it took a month for them to reunite...?

Don't expect him to do any kind of comforting well, Tidus. He's historically very bad at it. Boko is going to go over and poke around Tidus's person with his head and beak, seeking out the pockets with expert precision.

"Boko." Which... goes ignored as expected.

"No. Like I said, he only follows me when I get a chocobo from the forest. He's independent." Pause. "Was. He lives with Cloud most of the time. He's spoiled."

Hope you don't have food in your pockets, Tidus. Boko likes junk food.

"Hey," Tidus warns Boko, but with no actual warning or intent to do anything to the hopeful chocobo. He just doesn't want him eating at the jacket he wears.

"That's nice." None of the stuff before it actually made any sense to Tidus, but he's not that invested in understanding, so the whole thing is simply nice, nothing else. He sees if he can give Boko a pat while he's over here, but otherwise decides to move them along.

"What did you want to talk with me about?"

He might bite at a collar and tug. Good luck with that.

Squall sighs and nods. Right, he got distracted. He takes out his phone and swipes to a music streaming app, picking a random playlist - top electronic music, lovely - and setting the phone aside once he's turned the volume up enough. Loud but not enough he'll have to raise his voice to be heard. The way his furrowed brows twitched may be a sign that he's not fond of such music.

"... You said you lost someone. How much do you know what's going on in this city? What the Head's true goal is."

Boko no!!

With some ongoing idle hand waving to hopefully distract the chocobo from further articles on him (is this what he gets for sitting on the ground, is this his life), Tidus looks and watches at what Squall is doing and, huh. Never thought about that one.

He returns to Boko, sees if the chocobo wants a pat to its side to be satisfied.

"I know about them swapping us for doubles. The chips. That we've gotta find a way to deactivate them or the Head can turn them on us in an instant."

That they were navigating the city with a threat always around them, their life always on the line.

Squall nods. That makes things simpler. He folds his arms tighter, frowning with thought again.

"He can turn us against each other too. Or worse. There's a resistance called the Heart but one of their members is a robot now. I don't think they'll be around for much longer."

Maybe it's heartless but he'd rather watch them crash and burn to see what happens than be involved while it's crashing and burning.

"My friends and I are working on our own ideas. We'll need food, weapons, shelter so we're ready when we can fight back." He looks at Tidus. "It'll be faster if more people chip in. We'll keep in touch with Hank. He's been the biggest source of all our information so far."

It was a growing list of people who didn't have any faith with the Heart, and not entirely unfair, the way they went about things. Put people in danger, as Tidus knew it, without any real explanation or goal beyond join us. He frowns at the prediction, but has nothing to add to it.

"What's your plan? You going down a different road from him?"

At least, maybe that's what the guy was implying. It sounded like it.

» squall leonhart

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