Well, that's— [ He's saved from having to try and retort to Aerith's dick joke by her laughing, as he tries to shuffle a bit in his barstool. Is it hot in here or just him? The way she props herself up to stare at him forces him to break eye contact (look away, not down, Cloud—), chuckling mostly at his own expense. ]
I don't think I've turned any heads in a crowd except by embarrassing myself, so I can't say I know what you're... talking... about.
[ He follows her gaze towards the bangle. Something about it looks curiously familiar, but he can't place where. Just before he's about to speak up, a small clatter just out of his vision catches his attention as patrons shuffle about.
It's not the same bangle that Aerith found — more of a bracer, this one is, made of a darkened leather, furnished with studded iron. Even so, there's some striking similarities in how it was designed, the small open holes for... gemstones? It looks almost incomplete, like that. It looks like it's meant to fit tightly over the wrist, compared to the bangle. He almost reaches out to it on instinct before logic catches up with him, hands stopping short. He doesn't take his eyes off it, but he does speak up. ]
Someone... leave their jewelry on the bar counter? Easy way for it to get lost.
[ Cloud trails off, his own gaze following her line of vision. It's strange, isn't it? When he poses a logical question, she looks at him with a tilt of her head and a quirk of the brow, all confusion and equal amounts of interest. No, she thinks to herself. That's mine. She's not sure how she knows it, but she does. Rather than explaining this, Aerith reaches over him, pressing her chest against his arm needlessly as she moves, to grab it.
Aerith slips her hand into the bangle. It glides onto her wrist easily, falling just past the protruding bone of her thin wrist, and suddenly it feels right. The world falls away for a moment as a sense of something banging on the door of her mind takes her over, brows pulled together suddenly by an invisible thread and her green eyes on the piece of jewelry. ]
Wha...
[ Her response goes clipped and fleeting, whispered away into the vociferous atmosphere of the pub. In her mind, suddenly, Aerith is watching another world uncurl itself from the deepest part of her mind, a folder of memories uncovered from the recycle bin. Cloud, on stage, spotlights on him in all colors. His back is limned in a cacophonous rainbow as a crowd cries out for more, more, more from the man in soldier fatigues. Dressed all in black, the man at her side moves in her memories with— confidence, like he knows the limits of his body and controls them with a finesse only afforded to someone who has struggled to learn them.
And Aerith, too, is in this crowd, enrobed in a flashy red dress, fists balled tightly in excitement as she cheers him on. They're doing something important... ]
— Woah.
[ Snap back to reality. Aerith's blinking, and the bracelet that had fit her wrist is gone now, like it's been deleted from the world. ]
[ Cloud had been about to reach for the studded bracer before the sudden feeling of her pressed into him suddenly makes all other priorities quickly shuffle. He watches her seem to stare off, far away, for what feels like a both a split second and minutes, before she seems to come back to reality. Her chest still pressed into him, he turns a bit to get at the bracer that's still at the edges of his vision. ]
I'm telling you, I have no idea where you got that—
[ He grabs hold of the bracer, and his entire body goes slack, which means Aerith is now pushing him back-first into the bar counter as the images flash in his mind. A stage, backup dancers behind him, the heat of the stage lights bearing down on him. It's like the other vision, in some ways — he's dressed in military fatigues, his face settled into a resting sort of frown. But the contrast between his frowning face and the way he twists and moves, sliding back and forth with the other man on stage, both following his lead and taking initiative, trading in sync. The crowd is cheering, clapping, applauding. And as he twirls to look out at the shadowed faces, while most are hard to pick out in the dim light of the cabaret, he can make out one — long, flowing brown hair, a fetching dress, a beaming smile in her green eyes— ]
—idea.
[ He's back in reality, being pushed into the countertop, his eyes locked on those same green eyes, that same brown hair, that same smile like warm sunshine. He feels the heat creeping to his face. The studded bracer is gone, his hands awkwardly finding purchase on the countertop, just enough leverage to keep the scene from looking more uh, provocative than it already might be. ]
[ In his stupor, still dizzy with recollection herself, Aerith's hand finds his arm, and a smile greets Cloud like always, proud and devious in equal doses. As she looks at him, though, she picks out the slackened surprise latent in his features, as if uncovering the weightiness of the hallucination all over again. Surprise plucks at them both as Aerith stares up at him. ]
Cloud? You okay?
[ With a tilt of her head, she hand moves from Cloud's bicep, to find the back of his hand. Her palm rests over his open fist as if to gauge his emotions from the feeling of his bare skin against her own. ] I'm here. You are, too.
[ She doesn't have much experience with this, but she hopes it helps. ]
[ Maybe it was just because the vision was... weirdly pleasant? He didn't seem to be enjoying himself, but a part of him certainly was. Some of it is also certainly how Aerith hands on him, putting her hand on his. He can't keep the red out of his face at how she moves her hands across his body without ever breaking contact. If he wasn't already grappling with... whatever that was. Dream? Vision? Memory? he might have shivered despite the warmth of the room at her touch. She can feel the heat from the back of his hand, before he turns it over underneath her grip, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze in return. ]
I just— guess I just... saw something. How did you know I could dance? Did we...
[ He certainly doesn't want to imply they saw the same thing immediately — these visions were already weird enough! But he did maybe let slip something he wasn't expecting to — she hadn't mentioned dancing, had she? Whoops. ]
[ The pair of them sit together, hand in hand. Aerith feels a surge of confusion strike her as easily as lightning splits the earth, as she listens to Cloud's voice float over the boisterous sounds of a pub half-way drunk to death. A stunned quality seems to decorate his voice, something she can't help but cling to, finding it familiar. She's stunned, too, and her lips purse together in a thin, thoughtful line as she realizes that they're working with something more. ]
Should I... not know you can dance?
[ She poses it with a slant of annoyance to it, authenticity lost in her tone. Rather than true annoyance, she's fishing. There's a wiggle feeling of something being wrong ghosting along her spine now. ]
[ A part of him wants to say 'Never mind.' and brush it off, he's only a little used to Aerith's accusatory tones. But the other part of him, the part that's more than a little confused, can't help but take the wheel. His hand squeezes her, affirming she's real here and now. ]
[ His brows knit together, his blue-green eyes searching hers for something — something he doesn't even know he's looking for, as he speaks up. His voice is still small, compared to the rowdiness of the night, but there's an insistence that goes with his own confusion. ]
I've never been on stage before, but I just... saw myself dancing. In some weird vision. And—
I think— I think you were watching me.
[ He feels altogether too forthright with this. But another part of him is screaming 'if not Aerith then with who?' Especially if she's in his visions. He hasn't seen anyone else he recognizes from town, yet, but her..?
[ Searching for something in her gaze will pull out only the seriousness masked by amusement. Perhaps now, more than ever, it seems that Aerith's eyes are more green than any other's person's have been, though. An ethereal, Earthly glow to the vibrancy of her gaze— oh, but it could be the lighting, no? Aerith returns the favor and finds in Cloud's gaze a mottled mix of toxic green and sky blue. Which came first? She wonders idly, strangely: Hazel eyes don't work that way. ]
Maybe... You really want me to cheer you on?
[ The lopsided smile she offers him is half-hearted, barely there. Supportive as it may be, it does not hide the truth well. ]
[ The way she wears her seriousness makes a pit of unease settle into his stomach, the way her eyes twinkle with amusement but hide her own worries about what this means. They're beautiful, otherworldy, even— no, supernatural but distinctly not otherworldly. He isn't sure why he knows that, but he does. ]
You did, huh...?
[ This isn't the first vision he's gotten, but something about the connection — and how serious Aerith is taking it — make him want to act. The impulse is there to jostle the stone of worry in his gut before it sets. What does it mean? Even now, he's no closer to the answer, but knowing there's someone here who might also be looking for those answers, that he's not just adrift at sea with only his own thoughts to keep him company, make it easier to bear. ]
[ There's a small speck of confidence he doesn't quite grasp the origins of moving him. He squeezes Aerith's hand again. He finds the counter with his other hand, pushing the two off — himself into Aerith, and the two of them two steps back away from the bar's countertop. He doesn't let go of her hand all the while. Practically heartbeat against heartbeat, for this moment. ]
Well. If we both saw it... wanna see if I have those kinds of moves after all?
[ It's bold, it's brazen, it's something he hopes brings the spark of delight back to Aerith's eyes, instead of the uncertainty bubbling beneath her bemusement.
And think about it, Aerith does. She lets her line of sight slither from Cloud's face to the sturdy line connecting neck-flesh to his shoulders, an inevitability she indulges in and happily admit to. Her curious yet challenging gaze lingers on the veins in his arms. Thin, firm muscles on his body look more and more enticing as she thinks about his idea. He knows her too well, she thinks. ]
A very interesting proposition, Mr. Strife! Hm. It might just confirm or dispel these rumors swimming about in this very conversation.
[ There's a brief moment where he can hear the din of the tavern die down. Cloud's hear maybe skips a beat as he realize, in a burst of confidence, all eyes are on the two of them - the delivery boy, head-over-heels for the small-town songbird. It's almost enough to make him get cold feet— ]
Woah!
[ And then, like a whirlwind, she drags him along. In the direction of the stage? That'd make the most sense, but the truth is he's not really paying much attention to where they stop. Especially not when Aerith's right in front of him.
...Is she checking him out? Nah, couldn't be, right? ]
Mosey? Heh. Let's. [ He returns a smile in kind, and the musical accompaniment, waiting in the wings, takes this as initiative to start to play a jaunty little tune - not too slow, not to fast. But it's little more than warmup noodling, seemingly taking their cues from the two who have risen to their feet, to the stares of many. It gives him time to pull Aerith close, drink her in, eyes moving from her brilliant eyes back down to the body he's pulling deeper into his arms (Her slender build, her graceful, confident steps. Not dainty. Not fragile. She'd never go for that—) and back up again.
Hey, turnabout was fair play. ]
How do you want to take this? Fast... or slow? [ It's an honest question. He feels on top of the world, right now, and he's giving Aerith free reign to say whether they let this candle burn... or they set fire to the whole damn tavern, here and now. ]
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expiationlogs2024-03-09 08:37 am
no subject
I don't think I've turned any heads in a crowd except by embarrassing myself, so I can't say I know what you're... talking... about.
[ He follows her gaze towards the bangle. Something about it looks curiously familiar, but he can't place where. Just before he's about to speak up, a small clatter just out of his vision catches his attention as patrons shuffle about.
It's not the same bangle that Aerith found — more of a bracer, this one is, made of a darkened leather, furnished with studded iron. Even so, there's some striking similarities in how it was designed, the small open holes for... gemstones? It looks almost incomplete, like that. It looks like it's meant to fit tightly over the wrist, compared to the bangle. He almost reaches out to it on instinct before logic catches up with him, hands stopping short. He doesn't take his eyes off it, but he does speak up. ]
Someone... leave their jewelry on the bar counter? Easy way for it to get lost.
no subject
Aerith slips her hand into the bangle. It glides onto her wrist easily, falling just past the protruding bone of her thin wrist, and suddenly it feels right. The world falls away for a moment as a sense of something banging on the door of her mind takes her over, brows pulled together suddenly by an invisible thread and her green eyes on the piece of jewelry. ]
Wha...
[ Her response goes clipped and fleeting, whispered away into the vociferous atmosphere of the pub. In her mind, suddenly, Aerith is watching another world uncurl itself from the deepest part of her mind, a folder of memories uncovered from the recycle bin. Cloud, on stage, spotlights on him in all colors. His back is limned in a cacophonous rainbow as a crowd cries out for more, more, more from the man in soldier fatigues. Dressed all in black, the man at her side moves in her memories with— confidence, like he knows the limits of his body and controls them with a finesse only afforded to someone who has struggled to learn them.
And Aerith, too, is in this crowd, enrobed in a flashy red dress, fists balled tightly in excitement as she cheers him on. They're doing something important... ]
— Woah.
[ Snap back to reality. Aerith's blinking, and the bracelet that had fit her wrist is gone now, like it's been deleted from the world. ]
You can totally drive a crowd wild!
no subject
I'm telling you, I have no idea where you got that—
[ He grabs hold of the bracer, and his entire body goes slack, which means Aerith is now pushing him back-first into the bar counter as the images flash in his mind. A stage, backup dancers behind him, the heat of the stage lights bearing down on him. It's like the other vision, in some ways — he's dressed in military fatigues, his face settled into a resting sort of frown. But the contrast between his frowning face and the way he twists and moves, sliding back and forth with the other man on stage, both following his lead and taking initiative, trading in sync. The crowd is cheering, clapping, applauding. And as he twirls to look out at the shadowed faces, while most are hard to pick out in the dim light of the cabaret, he can make out one — long, flowing brown hair, a fetching dress, a beaming smile in her green eyes— ]
—idea.
[ He's back in reality, being pushed into the countertop, his eyes locked on those same green eyes, that same brown hair, that same smile like warm sunshine. He feels the heat creeping to his face. The studded bracer is gone, his hands awkwardly finding purchase on the countertop, just enough leverage to keep the scene from looking more uh, provocative than it already might be. ]
...Aerith?
no subject
Cloud? You okay?
[ With a tilt of her head, she hand moves from Cloud's bicep, to find the back of his hand. Her palm rests over his open fist as if to gauge his emotions from the feeling of his bare skin against her own. ] I'm here. You are, too.
[ She doesn't have much experience with this, but she hopes it helps. ]
no subject
[ Maybe it was just because the vision was... weirdly pleasant? He didn't seem to be enjoying himself, but a part of him certainly was. Some of it is also certainly how Aerith hands on him, putting her hand on his. He can't keep the red out of his face at how she moves her hands across his body without ever breaking contact. If he wasn't already grappling with... whatever that was. Dream? Vision? Memory? he might have shivered despite the warmth of the room at her touch. She can feel the heat from the back of his hand, before he turns it over underneath her grip, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze in return. ]
I just— guess I just... saw something. How did you know I could dance? Did we...
[ He certainly doesn't want to imply they saw the same thing immediately — these visions were already weird enough! But he did maybe let slip something he wasn't expecting to — she hadn't mentioned dancing, had she? Whoops. ]
no subject
[ The pair of them sit together, hand in hand. Aerith feels a surge of confusion strike her as easily as lightning splits the earth, as she listens to Cloud's voice float over the boisterous sounds of a pub half-way drunk to death. A stunned quality seems to decorate his voice, something she can't help but cling to, finding it familiar. She's stunned, too, and her lips purse together in a thin, thoughtful line as she realizes that they're working with something more. ]
Should I... not know you can dance?
[ She poses it with a slant of annoyance to it, authenticity lost in her tone. Rather than true annoyance, she's fishing. There's a wiggle feeling of something being wrong ghosting along her spine now. ]
no subject
[ A part of him wants to say 'Never mind.' and brush it off, he's only a little used to Aerith's accusatory tones. But the other part of him, the part that's more than a little confused, can't help but take the wheel. His hand squeezes her, affirming she's real here and now. ]
[ His brows knit together, his blue-green eyes searching hers for something — something he doesn't even know he's looking for, as he speaks up. His voice is still small, compared to the rowdiness of the night, but there's an insistence that goes with his own confusion. ]
I've never been on stage before, but I just... saw myself dancing. In some weird vision. And—
I think— I think you were watching me.
[ He feels altogether too forthright with this. But another part of him is screaming 'if not Aerith then with who?' Especially if she's in his visions. He hasn't seen anyone else he recognizes from town, yet, but her..?
Why her? ]
no subject
Maybe... You really want me to cheer you on?
[ The lopsided smile she offers him is half-hearted, barely there. Supportive as it may be, it does not hide the truth well. ]
The truth is, Cloud... I saw it, too.
no subject
You did, huh...?
[ This isn't the first vision he's gotten, but something about the connection — and how serious Aerith is taking it — make him want to act. The impulse is there to jostle the stone of worry in his gut before it sets. What does it mean? Even now, he's no closer to the answer, but knowing there's someone here who might also be looking for those answers, that he's not just adrift at sea with only his own thoughts to keep him company, make it easier to bear. ]
[ There's a small speck of confidence he doesn't quite grasp the origins of moving him. He squeezes Aerith's hand again. He finds the counter with his other hand, pushing the two off — himself into Aerith, and the two of them two steps back away from the bar's countertop. He doesn't let go of her hand all the while. Practically heartbeat against heartbeat, for this moment. ]
Well. If we both saw it... wanna see if I have those kinds of moves after all?
[ It's bold, it's brazen, it's something he hopes brings the spark of delight back to Aerith's eyes, instead of the uncertainty bubbling beneath her bemusement.
If only for a moment. ]
no subject
And think about it, Aerith does. She lets her line of sight slither from Cloud's face to the sturdy line connecting neck-flesh to his shoulders, an inevitability she indulges in and happily admit to. Her curious yet challenging gaze lingers on the veins in his arms. Thin, firm muscles on his body look more and more enticing as she thinks about his idea. He knows her too well, she thinks. ]
A very interesting proposition, Mr. Strife! Hm. It might just confirm or dispel these rumors swimming about in this very conversation.
[ So Aerith stands, grabs his hand, and tugs. ]
So! C'mon! Let's mosey, shall we?
no subject
Woah!
[ And then, like a whirlwind, she drags him along. In the direction of the stage? That'd make the most sense, but the truth is he's not really paying much attention to where they stop. Especially not when Aerith's right in front of him.
...Is she checking him out? Nah, couldn't be, right? ]
Mosey? Heh. Let's. [ He returns a smile in kind, and the musical accompaniment, waiting in the wings, takes this as initiative to start to play a jaunty little tune - not too slow, not to fast. But it's little more than warmup noodling, seemingly taking their cues from the two who have risen to their feet, to the stares of many. It gives him time to pull Aerith close, drink her in, eyes moving from her brilliant eyes back down to the body he's pulling deeper into his arms (Her slender build, her graceful, confident steps. Not dainty. Not fragile. She'd never go for that—) and back up again.
Hey, turnabout was fair play. ]
How do you want to take this? Fast... or slow? [ It's an honest question. He feels on top of the world, right now, and he's giving Aerith free reign to say whether they let this candle burn... or they set fire to the whole damn tavern, here and now. ]