More mysteries. As if they never end, it seems there may be more problems in Cloud's timeline at play if the Weapons are already awake. Sephiroth has no idea of Whispers either. Something Cloud mentally puts a pin in.
"Aerith..." the blond says softly, eyes widening. So he was out of control in both instances. But something bothers him- the fact he was able to snap out of it just in the nick of time in the alleged other timeline. No, in his own he became a machine, slicing and stabbing through the troopers in his way with a precision and brutality that in hindsight startles him. He can remember Tifa crying out for him to stop, that it was more than enough. When it comes to other human beings in the combat mix, Cloud tries to fight to incapacitate at best and makes things quick at worst. Clearly he is just more broken in this timeline. That has to be it, to have been smooth-talked into believing Tifa, his childhood best friend, was a fake. She has no scar he said, the rest melding into a blur (including the moment where Tifa indeed showed the scar from the Incident). So he's weaker. More dangerous in his own timeline.
Pieces, patience...It all frustrates Cloud, but the offer of something, finally, has his full attention. Sephiroth seems to mean well (what a bizarre thought), so for now, he accepts, with a nod. He will be patient. He just doesn't have to love the circumstances.
Cloud winces as he tries to think back to that specific time between Nibelheim and his mission with Avalanche. It has always been a nondescript haze, and the familiar, sickening tinge of mako-green clouds his vision when he digs too deep. His brows knit, a quiet, sharp exhale indicating the discomfort of it. Four years. It's a long time to lose.
"I just...Remember being stabbed. By you. Passing out. Then...hitching a ride on top of a train. Four years later. I used to tell myself it was just boring things and thats why." Denial, in a way, given the literal mental block that's always been there. "Just did merc work or something."
no subject
"Aerith..." the blond says softly, eyes widening. So he was out of control in both instances. But something bothers him- the fact he was able to snap out of it just in the nick of time in the alleged other timeline. No, in his own he became a machine, slicing and stabbing through the troopers in his way with a precision and brutality that in hindsight startles him. He can remember Tifa crying out for him to stop, that it was more than enough. When it comes to other human beings in the combat mix, Cloud tries to fight to incapacitate at best and makes things quick at worst. Clearly he is just more broken in this timeline. That has to be it, to have been smooth-talked into believing Tifa, his childhood best friend, was a fake. She has no scar he said, the rest melding into a blur (including the moment where Tifa indeed showed the scar from the Incident). So he's weaker. More dangerous in his own timeline.
Pieces, patience...It all frustrates Cloud, but the offer of something, finally, has his full attention. Sephiroth seems to mean well (what a bizarre thought), so for now, he accepts, with a nod. He will be patient. He just doesn't have to love the circumstances.
Cloud winces as he tries to think back to that specific time between Nibelheim and his mission with Avalanche. It has always been a nondescript haze, and the familiar, sickening tinge of mako-green clouds his vision when he digs too deep. His brows knit, a quiet, sharp exhale indicating the discomfort of it. Four years. It's a long time to lose.
"I just...Remember being stabbed. By you. Passing out. Then...hitching a ride on top of a train. Four years later. I used to tell myself it was just boring things and thats why." Denial, in a way, given the literal mental block that's always been there. "Just did merc work or something."