Howling and Hollow (Cloud Catch-All)

[relativefugue]

WHO: Cloud Strife and YOU
WHAT: What does your heart desire? (A place for planned threads outside prompts!) Cloud is settling in.
WHERE: Around Town and the outskirts, depending!
WHEN: A week or more after arrival, ongoing.
WARNINGS: Probable mentions of mental health struggles and trauma.

SUMMARY: A catch-all for Mister Final Fantasy! Here he is, trying to...Leave. Inevitably, he will be settling in, whether he likes it or not. What are those weird bumps hidden in that chocobo fluff hair? He fell and hit his head, probably.

Comments

Country Boy is Trying to Make Do- Closed to (Big) Sephiroth

[relativefugue]

Cloud wasn't ever really expecting anyone to bother him on this world's more...Interesting equivalent to a PHS, but here he is. He'd been considering posting up availability as a merc for hire, so he begrudgingly chalks up SOLDIER First Class Angeal Hewley's practical orders to him as his first job. The mission: Watch over his chickens (seriously, how did he round them up and make a place for them this quick???) while he works out some semblance of a guard dog situation. Real exciting stuff. Cloud would one hundred percent tell anyone this sort of work is below his pay grade as a First himself, but deep down, perhaps he was just a little excited by the notion of getting to interact with some animals.

"Hey, guys," Cloud mumbles quietly, hopping the fence into the enclosure where he last confronted Angeal. There's a rustling of feathers, and a brief commotion at the big scary human invading bird-space. Cloud doesn't skip a beat, however, finding a comfortable spot to sit down cross-legged. He waits, and lets the birds approach at their own leisure. Eventually, a particularly bold hen picks her way into his warm, inviting lap. Cloud sighs, and closes his eyes for a few beats.

Peace, quiet, and the company of birds. The situation tugs at some deep-set memory of his, of similarly spent evenings beneath the stars in the Nibelheim countryside. Perfect nights, when he'd sneak his way out and stay there long as he could before his mother chased him right back inside to bed. As one hand moves to gently stroke the hen in his lap along the back, a ghost of a smirk comes to his lips.

"Good girl. I got you all safe here."

[silver_soldier]

On the one hand: Sephiroth knows this is a terrible idea.

He knows how much Cloud hates him. He knows just how much of that hatred is deserved. He knows Jenova's reunion instinct is probably the only thing that keeps Cloud hunting him down, that stops Cloud's ideal world from being one in which he never sees Sephiroth again and in which, even more ideally, Sephiroth had never existed at all.

On the other hand: Angeal says otherwise.

It says a lot for Sephiroth's high esteem of Angeal, his trust in his judgment at least when it comes to other people, that Angeal contradicting him is all it takes for Sephiroth to question what he would otherwise swear is unshakeable reality. That if Angeal insists that this will make things better rather than worse, Sephiroth feels he has to test it, or he won't have done his due diligence.

And if this does, somehow, make things better for Cloud...Sephiroth is highly aware that he owes Cloud literally anything he can possibly do. Even, perhaps, taking the responsibility of making the call that it's better to upset him in the short-term if it might benefit him in the long-term.

Besides, what is he risking? Cloud hating him more? Impossible. At worst, he fails, and nothing improves. But surely things can't be worse between them.

So - not without some trepidation - Sephiroth opens the fence gate and lets himself into the chicken pen. One arm cradles a chicken, which seems relatively content with the arrangement. In fact, she seems half-asleep even as Sephiroth closes the gate behind him.

While Sephiroth is willing to take the responsibility for doing what he can to improve things for Cloud, however...he's not prepared to take responsibility for an idea whose believable viability, in his mind, stems entirely from his banked trust in Angeal. That, and he doesn't want Cloud to think that this is him choosing to haunt Cloud's steps. So...

"This wasn't my idea," he says. It's a little defensive, but mostly it sounds faintly guilty. Like Sephiroth is here against his better judgment, which is in fact exactly the case.

[relativefugue]

Cloud doesn't budge at the sound of footsteps- probably just a local tooling around. What he does respond to, however, is that strange, faint pulling in his chest that he feels. That can only mean a First is nearby. One of the literal four he's met here, with one being a brat version of the other. It's all a confusing, aggravating, and slightly unsettling mess. Cloud could really do with a moment of not questioning his entire worldview and existence, but he isn't going to be allowed such a break now.

He turns his head and is met with a hell of a sight. Sephiroth, perfectly calm, with a trace of what he can only nail down as guilt in his slitted eyes, holding a perfectly content hen. The body language is there- eyes partly closed, head tucked down- she feels safe with him. That sits funny with Cloud, of course. Not as visceral as it perhaps would have a week ago, however. Their first encounter in Town, paired with meeting a younger, slightly bitter Sephiroth, leaves Cloud questioning more and more about who Sephiroth is as a person here. He must be going mad, he figures, to be even entertaining the idea of the man who has ceaselessly harmed and haunted him and countless others to be a person in fucked up circumstances like the rest of them.

But here he is, having just those thoughts.

Later on, Cloud will insist his less explosive response was because he didn't want to spook the birds if asked. Not the one in his lap, and especially not the one that is in Sephiroth's arms. So the blond grits his teeth, suspends his disbelief, and stays seated, glowing eyes on his uninvited guest.

"Who put you up to it? I'll have some things to say to 'em. Lucky you, the birds seem fine."

[silver_soldier]

"Most normal animals don't like me." Sephiroth is fully aware this is opening himself up to Cloud telling him, flat out, that of course they don't, animals recognize monsters even more easily than people, or something of that nature. Something indicating that it's some inherent flaw in Sephiroth that makes even animals hate him as a deserved consequence, and neither he nor anyone else should be surprised. The idea that he could simply alter his behavior to not give people chances to be cruel to him simply does not enter Sephiroth's mind. So much of his life has been unavoidable misery that his actions have no control over that he often doesn't even try to avoid unpleasantness. He often forgets it's even an option.

And, on some level...perhaps he feels he deserves it. Certainly from Cloud.

"But birds...never seem to be as bothered." He's always wondered about that. It's because, deep down, all birds aspire to supervillainy.

The response from Cloud is...far more muted than Sephiroth would have expected. Perhaps it's for the sake of the birds...in which case, Sephiroth supposes, Angeal's idea may have some merit to it after all. He cautiously moves across the pen, keeping a healthy distance from Cloud, in order to sit down...almost as far away from him as possible.

It's wholly in deference to Sephiroth's being incredibly aware how little Cloud wants to be around him or anywhere near him, of course, but honestly, to an outside observer - it almost looks as though Sephiroth is afraid of Cloud.

"It was Angeal's idea. He seems to think it could...help, in some way. I have my doubts, but he understands people better than I do." Sephiroth looks down at the chicken in his lap, and then strokes the feathers of her back. She makes a content little sound about it.

[relativefugue]

Surprisingly, that is not the route Cloud takes, but rather the simpler one set right before him. "I mean, cats can't stand me anymore. They used to love me, before I was SOLDIER." He tries to center himself, and look for commonalities, or anything, besides going on the attack. Cooling exercises. Sephiroth isn't taunting, or stabbing, causing him pain, or doing anything of the sort. Just wait it out for now, he thinks. "Birds still like me fine too. Clearly." He pats the hen in his lap for emphasis.

He swears he can sense elements of fright and discomfort from Sephiroth, and it makes his stomach churn. Not with disgust, per se, but a feeling of confusion and empathy that he cannot fully push away. It makes twice now, this man has interacted so peacefully and practically sadly with Cloud. He doesn't come off as the threat the blond has always associated with his presence. Even the hen is happy with him, and he treats her so very gently. That Sephiroth is capable of that level of delicacy is a revelation to Cloud in and of itself.

"Angeal the meddling type, then? Great. First he worries about my sword, now he's pulling this. I don't get what you three have on me that keeps you acting weird like this."

He has an inkling, a nagging awareness, thanks to Genesis in particular, but thinking on the implications of it both makes him physically sick and terrifies him in a soul-deep way.

Where do the Questions end and True Answers Begin? (Sephiroth)

[relativefugue]

Nothing has ever been all that simple for Cloud, but now, things just keep getting stranger and stranger.

After delving deep into the Fae woods and being fetched out by various concerned parties that happen to include SOLDIER Firsts Angeal and Genesis, Cloud has a lot on his mind. Including what he figures are bits more of his own memories. Very, very concerning memories, which comprise of a small move forward in what must be his own timeline. Ones of the Gongaga reactor.

It's infuriating, really. Instead of giving him any level of answers, it only makes the endless pile of questions he has (that apparently cannot all yet be answered for his own safety) stack higher. On his trudge back to the noisy, aggravating festivities, Cloud is left to wonder just what to do with said memories. The answer that nags at him the entire way is absolutely asinine at first pass.

Go speak with Sephiroth.

It logically ought to be sound. Sephiroth actively offered to help with whatever the hell is ailing Cloud's mind. His knowing about this development in the situation should help them both. But even so, the idea of the silver-haired man of all people being someone he can go to for anything but a fight still kicks up a confused tempest in Cloud's very core. At the very least he has the time to consider and fight his way through it with how long the walk is. Once the sound of banjos and excited voices reaches his ears, the merc squares up his shoulders and approaches with purpose; he's made his choice. Mako eyes dart about the festival space, and he tries to feel out if that strange, faint pulling kicks up while exploring each corner. Sephiroth should be rather easy to find in a crowd. Probably.

[silver_soldier]

Sephiroth would be easy to find in most crowds, even without the less mysterious than Cloud thinks connection between them. That said, just because he's easy to spot doesn't mean it's instantaneous. Cloud may be surprised and gratified to find that Sephiroth is...actually lingering on the fringes of the party, seemingly people-watching, looking - not perhaps outwardly uncomfortable, but at least out of place. It may be incredibly familiar and relatable to Cloud.

The number of similarities the two of them have is probably going to be a perpetual surprise to the blond.

[relativefugue]

It rings terribly familiar, right down to the way Sephiroth holds himself with visible discomfort. Cloud learned to (attempt) to hide that with detached disinterest, to varying degrees of success. Extremely varying, depending on how long someone knows him for, as shown by his traveling companions back home. Regardless, there is something else with the familiarity that shocks the blond- relatability. Not something he's really felt in...Ever. Not in any recent or far-flung memory he can manage to pull to mind. As someone prone to closing himself off, it just never was something he sought out.

Yet now, here he is, relating with Sephiroth of all people.

He gives a light shake of his head to pull himself from his own thoughts, and makes the approach. Slowly. For all Cloud tries to make it look natural and stoic, there's an air of awkwardness about him. He fumbles, trying to figure out what to even lead with.

"...Loud as hell here."

[silver_soldier]

Sephiroth feels Cloud drawing close to him, even before the blond gets very close. Partially Jenova, partially just Sephiroth's own awareness of when someone is focusing their attention on him. (Easier these days, now that he isn't famous and inherently the focus of most people's attention wherever he is. Then, he'd been living Cloud's nightmare - feeling watched and judged at almost all times, needing to constantly and consciously maintain appearances for the world. As with many aspects of his life, Sephiroth had hated it while entirely resigning himself to it because he had never been presented with any other option.) Politely, he waits until Cloud indicates that he actually is trying to initiate contact with Sephiroth before acknowledging him.

For all he knew, he was just...being kept under surveillance.

"Parties usually tend to be," he says, a comment that could sound snarky but which, for Sephiroth, is delivered genuinely. It's more sympathetic than sassy. Parties do tend to be loud, and this is why people like himself - and apparently Cloud - don't like them much. "But it's nice to see people enjoying themselves."

If the suggestion there is that Sephiroth gets more vicarious pleasure out of parties than personal pleasure, that's not inaccurate.

[relativefugue]

Cloud cannot find a hint of malice or sarcasm in Sephiroth's voice. No, he's just as painfully genuine as he was the day they were in the chicken pen. Is that a hint of sympathy? It makes Cloud's chest feel strange, even more than the idea of the man being relatable in any way.

"I guess. Still not worth the noise to me." He shrugs, before trying to sort all his thoughts out.

"I know you can't tell me a lot, but I got questions. And, I guess a bit of something new to...Report." Agonizingly awkward, but Cloud is putting the effort in here to initiate, God damn it! "New thing's memory related. The other stuff has to do with your little mini-me. Dunno if it's something we should discuss near a crowd."

...In Blazing Armor (Genesis)(LIKELY TO BECOME NSFW)

[relativefugue]

Stupid. Stupid, stupid. Cloud repeatedly spits curses at himself under his breath as the dire situation before him unfolds. This is on him, his rookie mistake. He knew the Buster Sword was not realistically something he could wield for a long period in the state he is in, yet he pushed the envelope. Thought maybe he could get the job done and take the beasts out before it became a problem.

No such luck- Cloud finds himself pinned back against a rocky cliff base, with his targets prowling ever closer. There's two of them, huge in size and easily reaching the ex-SOLDIER's waist. They look feline in shape despite their extra set of legs, dark as the night sky. Unnatural, undulating tendrils protrude from their backs with horrifying patches of serrated fangs on the wider ends. They lash, just as their whip-tails do, and terrible, deep growls rumble from their chests. All Cloud can do is steal quick glances down at the Buster Sword at his feet. He dropped it once his stamina ran out- the damned cats warped all over the place, forcing him to move and expend all he had way too fast. He can feel a strange, itching, burning feeling in his throat- is this fear?

Cloud needs to think fast. Possible evasive measures begin to form in his mind with every single step the monsters take.

It won't end here. He refuses to let it.

TW for mild gore mentions

[rhapscdos]

The first to move is the first to fall. A flash of red flickers above the monster's head before the long line of Rapier's blade comes down like the fall of a fated crimson arrow. It pierces straight through the beast's head, the blade singing through the air to meet the dull, wet thump of yielding flesh and bone. Genesis follows the blade a split instance later, his weight driving the blade deeper, and slamming the monster chin first to the ground. It isn't even given the grace of a final death wail as Genesis rises to his feet, drawing Rapier from the skull.

Flicking blood and gray matter from the edge, Genesis brings the blade to level with the second displacer beast, and watches the animal's surprisingly intelligent calculations. This prey isn't worth risking life and limb for. Not with the red one here, and its mate suddenly dead. The beast hisses, barbed tendrils flaring in threat, but it backs away. Then, its fur shimmers, and the beast vanishes back into the shadows. When the sound of its many footsteps falls to silence, Genesis exhales, and lowers Rapier's edge.

Gesturing with his free hand, Genesis sweeps his arm out towards the fallen monster at his feet.

"Well, well, well, I come for a lovely walk in the woods, and find a damsel in distress. How very heroic of me, no?" He laughs, and fully turns to Cloud with an air of exceeding smugness. "You're welcome for the rescue, Strife."

[relativefugue]

It all happens fast, but Genesis may as well be moving in slow motion as he descends from above with deadly, honed precision. Cloud's eyes go wide, electric sparks flashing from his mouth before ceasing as his uninvited, but helpful guest dispatches his target and scares off the remaining beast. Adrenaline absolutely thunders through the blond's veins, sending flashes of heat all throughout him- including places he doesn't entirely expect. The insufferable redhead is the single one of the three elite Firsts Cloud never got to see in action- and what a show, albeit brief, he gave. Graceful, in a unique way apart from Sephiroth and Angeal.

For all the guff and snark and disdain he tends to throw in the fellow SOLDIER's direction, even Cloud Strife cannot deny how incredible his form was. All to save him from a stupid mistake. That last part- stupid mistake- is what kicks the frustration in. Something pent-up, unhappy, angry, and...Something else the merc has yet to fully recognize, heightened by the rush of the danger of the situation. He's better than this- a god damn First, not some fragile thing to be bested by a pair of Planet-damned cats. Now all Genesis will think is he is just some wimp, and not the SOLDIER he thinks he is. It only makes him angrier that he cares at all about what this jackass thinks.

"Whatever," Cloud spits, though his voice is strained. There may even be a trace of red on his cheeks, if Genesis looks hard enough. He steps away from the rocky wall he was pinned up against, locking Genesis with what he hopes is a harsh scowl, but really is merely a wide eyed attempt at one. "Gonna go on and on about how great you are now? Yeah, you saved my life. Thanks. But it was a stupid mistake on my part. I knew better. I would have been fine."

Probably. Maybe. Not really.

[rhapscdos]

The scowl seems to do little to dull that cocky smirk Genesis wears. If anything, it may just widen it by a fraction. It certainly makes his fever-bright eyes shimmer with something akin to predatory delight. A tiger, finding its prey bleeding, instead of just unaware. He can hear the strain in Cloud's voice, see the deep, embarrassed flush under his skin. It's decadent.

If only this were his Cloud. Where he could lean in, take him by the chin, and tease and taunt him into a perfect frenzy of a storm. His lovely little thunderbolt-

Genesis has never been good with things like impulse control. His mind wanders, and his hand follows without hesitation. Catching Cloud along the jaw, he tilts his head up to have the blond look at him, despite the brewing resentment towards his own inadequacy in the face of someone that has no qualms with showing off. Ah, well. He's here now, isn't he?

"Oh, I do not doubt you'd have come out alive. But at what cost? A missing limb? Bleeding to death out here? As pretty as you look in red, Strife, I do prefer you alive. Alive, and lively." Genesis breathes out a low chuckle, thumb stroking Cloud's jaw. "The fight in you is truly the best part."

[relativefugue]

Cloud absolutely expects the insufferable, flashy First to egg him on- but he doesn't expect it to go like this. He may as well be wearing his embarrassed arousal on his sleeve, and that just makes the irritation and confusion around it all rise like heat from an open flame. The merc is most certainly not ready for what Genesis has planned. Or for what he will retaliate with in a few short moments.

His breath and his retort are caught in his throat as Genesis sweeps close in a fluid motion to hold his face up. To force him to look at those gleaming, admittedly beautiful eyes that seem to focus on Cloud with keen interest and something else he cannot entirely place. Whatever it is, it renders Genesis hypnotic. The blond stays put, stunned silent for a few beats, thoughts racing so damn fast he hasn't a prayer of keeping up.

Anger. Confusion. Lust. Loneliness. All of this and more swirl together in Cloud's mind, whipping him into a confused fury. His body moves before any of what happens registers, clearly working off of the emotions and not any kind of logic. He curls his lip, closes the gap between their faces, and kisses Genesis on the mouth with an intensity that sees him startling himself.

Oh, shit.

Katabasis

[zodiheart]

It had been for some time now that Elidibus and Cloud had worked together at the bakery. Each time would find the Emissary having arrived before, and on each occasion did he call out a cheerful greeting to the other man. Regardless of how his friendliness had been met he never failed to do so - nor did he fail to continue in his small favors and gifts he was wont to give. That is, until one day saw his absence. Unexplained, not given notice, not elaborated on in any way.

One day of break in their routine. Such a little thing, in truth.

But oh, such a devastating blow.

The day after the absence sees Elidibus having arrived before Cloud once more. But this time no greeting rings out, no wave is given accompanied by a smile. There is silence. A brief flit of eyes to the door tracks the newcomer, registering the visual identity, but the Emissary merely continues to knead the dough he has in front of them. Even his actions are subdued.

[relativefugue]

Cloud never made a huge fuss about Elidibus- but the man did confuse the hell out of the merc. Kindness on first sight is quite a thing. Awkward as he is, the blond is not well-equipped to respond to it. Or to a ball of energy. So he just did whatever came to mind. Awkwardly.

Not after long, the pair found themselves falling into a routine. Cloud would keep his eyes on the floor, or a counter, or anywhere but his coworker's own, giving a small wave back to the enthusiastic greetings. Sometimes, if he were feeling particularly adventurous, he would even mumble a quiet 'hey' back. He'd listen rather dutifully as the white-haired man spoke on and on with an enthusiasm that rang familiar enough to stir a strange pang in his chest. That excitement, and bubbliness reminds him of someone back home. Elidibus' willingness to teach him baking techniques for their shared job, or explain things about his home world...It felt nice. It made work, and life less lonely than the last few grueling months had been to Cloud. Even if Cloud's responses were brusque or short, he never cut the other man off.

As for the gifts Elidibus clearly left around... Cloud kept every single one. A loved food here, a trinket there, more than once he was left staring at the object with his jaw slightly slack. How did he know Cloud enjoyed these things? Or better yet, with some, how did Elidibus know it would be something he would like if given the chance to try? Cloud didn't talk anywhere near as much as the chatty fellow did. Was Angeal in on this, maybe?!

He'd finally worked up the nerve and confidence to put up a good front and thank Elidibus for the most recent gift. The script and everything rollins through his head on repeat as he walkes up to the bakery, only to find it stiflingly quiet. Elidibus wasn't there, their schedule interrupted, and Cloud Strife, worried. Even if he would never admit it. The first feeling of consistent normalcy, routine, and companionship in this world, gone in a flash. Just like his friends back home, he only realized he missed them when he was left alone once more.

The next day, it is with a surprising flicker of relief that he sees that now-familiar face come through the door. Yet something is distinctly off. He's quiet, blank-faced, flat.

After a few minutes of quietly kneading dough alongside the distant-seeming Elidibus, Cloud speaks up.

"...Weren't here yesterday."

[zodiheart]

Cloud's words cause Elidibus to slow in his kneading of the dough ever-so-slightly. The flicker of something passes through his dim eyes before snuffing out like the last candle of an evening put to rest. It is not surprising that Cloud noted his absence, no, but it is unusual for the other to comment on such things. Nothing Elidibus had done was with the expectation of any reciprocation, after all.

He deliberates, but ultimately truth beats deflection to the fore.

"When I awoke, I had forgotten where I was. It required the day to remind myself that I was still whole," the words are small, soft. Spoken so that even any others in the bakery would not hear, despite whatever augmentations they may have.

[relativefugue]

There probably isn't a damn thing that could prepare Cloud for the answer he gets. Elidibus speaks so much more softly than he can ever remember hearing him, but the words are easily clear- and startlingly relatable. Something he never, ever thought would be relatable in his life.

"Ah-" a soft sound leaves the blond unbidden, blue eyes going wide. He flounders to gather his thoughts, figure out how to speak to the other in a way that makes sense and doesn't tear his entire image he thinks he's built apart.

"Memory problems?"

[zodiheart]

"If only that were the case." If it were memory alone, and not the slow coldness of reality, of what he had truly been through... well. It would have been simpler.

But Cloud clearly wants to know more, and Elidibus is too tired to deny him. Too scraped raw.

"There was a time when all of who I was had been taken from me. Pieces falling away, fading, cut out from the heart of who I had once been. And the worst part? I did not know what was lost until it had already been swept away, until all that was left was a hollowed void." A pause. "I did not lose what drove me, no, but... it was. Overwhelming."

His greatest fear, unspoken, hangs between them.

Closer to Home (Closed to Mithrun)

[relativefugue]

Cloud won't admit it- He refuses to, of course- but he actually is starting to enjoy working at the bakery. For one, it provides structure to his days, a goal to chase, and a way to keep his hands busy. For another, his fellow staff there keep him company. Something he's needed terribly beneath all the tough-guy loner act he tries so hard to put up. Cloud is perfectly content to work away and listen to the chattering of those around him.

This enjoyment and feeling of purpose are both large parts as to why he continues to show up every day for the job in spite of a rather pressing problem: A severe case of sleep deprivation. Ever since learning the harrowing truth of the four-year gap in his memory, Cloud has been plagued by endless nightmares every time he attempts to lay down to rest. His dragon soul, Ioth, fought tooth and claw to try and help, but could only afford enough leeway for short, fitful bouts of unconsciousness. It could barely be called sleep at all. Whatever was ailing Cloud, the dragon realized, ran very, very deep.

Cloud doesn't have the full breadth of his SOLDIER stamina back. He perhaps has a fraction of it, but only enough that by the time a week of the sleepless nights passes, he arrives to work like a shambling corpse. He walks into the front door, taking up his usual position behind the counter to start kneading dough. The bags under his eyes are darker than they've ever been, and he sways in place.

Just forcus on being here, and today's tasks, he thinks to himself.

[orbicularis]

As far as company goes, most may consider Mithrun... underwhelming. Since his bursts of hyperfocus at work tend to be directed mostly at the work itself, his presence as a coworker is a rather understated one - with little room for the kind of chaos he accidentally pulled Cloud into at the banquet. He'll address him in passing, or as needed, with little need for direct intervention as they both go about their work.

Until today.

When Cloud comes in, Mithrun glances up from where he's dividing cookie dough (always so many cookies - Mithrun wonders if Angeal is intending to completely bury the local god in them) - and then that glance sticks.

He steps unceremoniously away from his work, washes his hands, and walks up to Cloud. "You shouldn't be up here."

[relativefugue]

Cloud takes a second to steady himself, and looks to Mithrun with a confused scowl. This is the first time his coworker has said much at all outside of small scraps of things- a request or direction here, a single-word statement there. But now, here he is, stepping away from work to tell him off. Or so he assumes.

"Did you forget I work here? Yes I should. It's my shift."

Exhausted as he is, Cloud Strife can still very well manage to be a sassy pain in the ass.

[orbicularis]

"Not in this state, you shouldn't." He crosses his arms, staring up at Cloud - though he barely tilts his head, despite the difference in height. "There's a hammock in the back. You need to lie down."

[relativefugue]

"The hell I do," Cloud snaps back, with a shake of the head. He sways again, however, this time practically toppling over. "Not in any kinda state except a little tired. I'm fine."

Except he really, really isn't. Much more of this and he will end up on the floor.