A MAN WALKS INTO A BAR...

It was one of those dark moonless nights, full of that unsettling silence that chilled the people on the street to the core. The kind of night that waited eagerly for trouble so it could swoop down on the unfortunate victim like a bird of prey. The usually bustling city of Edge was near deserted because of the annual festival in Kalm, making the streets eerily quiet and making the inhabitants jumpy.

A strange man stepped out of the gloom into the spot light of a street lamp and silently surveyed his surroundings. He wore a long leather coat that touched the floor and was open slightly at the front despite the severe chill in the air. There was blood on the hem of that coat. Slowly he pulled his hood up, covering his face and stiffly withdrew into the shadows, almost as if he had never been there. Walking quickly by quietly, almost like a whisper on the wind rather then a man clad in heavy leather, he searched for somewhere to rest. He arrived outside a bar that looked comfortable, and since the first drops of rain had began to fall with mounting ferocity, the foot soldiers of the on coming storm, he slipped inside.

The bartender was a slender, fair skinned smiling young woman with long brown hair, most would probably have considered her beautiful but her radiance was wasted on the man who had quietly entered the bar with naturally catlike footsteps. He sat at the deserted counter and looked around the room, which was entirely empty, and waited for the woman to notice him. After a few seconds she did (probably alerted by the slight draft that had entered with him he mused) and jumped. Instantly he could tell he was dealing with a warrior or someone who knew how to fight from the way her stance changed when frightened. He couldn't help but stare intently, without even meaning to absorbing those micro-expressions that crossed the woman's face; fear-surprise-relief.

"Oh hello I didn't see you there, what would you like to drink?"

"Whatever you would recommend."

He had a deep voice... but it somehow felt like it belonged to someone far older then the man in front of her. He had a slight accent but what it was she had no idea, maybe someone from up North?

The woman smiled and nodded, slightly unnerved by the mystery man's presence but too polite to let it show. She placed a glass of dark liquid on the counter and in turn the man put a handful of Gil on the bar top, it was a silent exchange, even the coins seemed to noiselessly land on the counter top as if the world had been momentarily muted. The woman watched, fascinated as the glass disappeared inside the hood and emerged seconds later empty, she could only make out the slight outline of his face and this made her curious.

"If you like, I could hang your coat up to dry it."

She shifted uncomfortably as a few seconds past, wondering if she had overstepped some invisible boundary with this innocent request. Even though she couldn't see her costumers face she somehow knew he was staring intently at her. She was used to men staring at her, or more exactly her chest, but this was not the same, the stranger was looking at her face, tilting his head ever so slightly to the left. She was just about to back-paddle, and say he could leave it on and that it had only been a suggestion, when he lowered his hood and unzipped the coat.

"Thank you, that would be most desirable."

She nodded taking the coat and gently hanging it up, it was surprisingly heavy and the scratched leather had been patched in places. Taking a moment she turned and took the time to survey the man from a distance. He had short lavender hair framing his pallid face, a tone, she might add, that rivaled even Vincent's complexion... it would rival a corpses complexion. As she returned and stood in front of him, she saw his dark purple eyes and somber expression, maybe he had been the victim of some sort of elaborate prank at the festival. Then again he didn't seem the sort to be upset so easily, maybe the hair and eyes was some sort of statement. Come to think of it some of the masses had taken to dying the hair the colours of lifestream, something to do with showing their support for the WRO. Purple wasn't the worst she'd seen, the worst would have had to have been the ghastly mako green that some people were sporting. Yes, with a pale shade of hair like that he could easily fit into that category and contacts would only be a little step further.

He stared at the bar top and peeled off a glove which he laid on the counter, she nearly recoiled, many questions forming in her head, when she saw it was made from Tonberry skin. She'd never seen a Tonberry skin glove in her life, she supposed it might be comfortable, might be like mole skin. On closer inspection, she saw all of his clothes were patched with various monster skins. He caught her gaze and she looked away like she had been doing something naughty.

"I… I'm so sorry I was just… admiring your clothes."

She hated herself for stammering, it was unlike her to be anything apart from confident but this man had unsettled her. He, unlike most men she encountered didn't have any look of desire when he looked at her, in fact he had nothing but a penetrating gaze that seemed to cut into her core. The man looked down at himself with interest, as if no one had ever commented on his strange attire before, which she supposed was a possibility. There was a whole minute of silence between them, broken only by the winter storm that had started outside and was rattling the windows like an animal would rattle it's cage. In an attempt to break the silence, the woman smiled and said.

"My name is Tifa, what's yours?"

The man nervously flicked his hair out of his eyes with his right hand while his eyes flicked to the bottles behind her the back to her never wavering in intensity. With slight hesitation he half whispered.

"My name is ca...Carl Jameson."

Tifa looked at him with mild skepticism but briskly brushed it away, it wasn't her style to call a customer a liar.

"So are you a monster hunter?"

"No."

"Oh…" she had been hoping for more then one syllable. "So what brings you to Edge? Most everyone's at the festival in Kalm."

"I do not go to festivals."

Carl put an elbow on the counter, his sleeve lowering enough to reveal a large scar across his wrist. Looked like it was self inflicted from the angle but it was a cross cut, you wouldn't get results from a cross cut. She noted this and to herself thought that perhaps he wasn't the most mentally stable. He looked thoughtful, tilting his head to the side once more. "As for why I came here… I was following a remnant."

Tifa nearly dropped the glass she was polishing

"You know about them?"

The man looked at her unblinkingly, somehow he seemed slightly different from before, Tifa had a distinct feeling of danger, chilling her core. He smiled, somehow making himself look unnatural, she had assumed his hair was dyed and he had been wearing contacts but now she wasn't sure. Maybe his strange behavior and lack of interest meant something more, maybe this was in fact some crazy alien body snatcher... ridiculous.

"Yes, but do not fear I am not referring to the blonde man, I was talking about another remnant," he cocked his head "you shouldn't be worried, it is dead now."

Tifa still hadn't recovered from the fact he knew about the remnants, that he had killed a remnant, she felt it was a distinct possibility he was a remnant.

"How… how do you know about Cloud?"

"Cloud? The blonde remnant? I passed him in the street earlier with two children and sensed the JENOVA inside him was not a threat to the planet. Personally I know nothing about him other then that"

Tifa had a mounting feeling of apprehension deep inside her but tried to hide it, sensing JENOVA was most definitely a remnant trait but caring for the planet?

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you asked."

"No I mean why are you not lying to me?"

"Would you rather I did?" he cocked his head the other way "and how do you know I'm not?"

"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to sound rude but… how do you know so much?"

"That would be a long story that I would rather not tell if it all the same to you."

"Oh of course I didn't mean to pry."

Yes she did, she wanted to know why he was here… what was he?

"Not at all, here, may I have a refill?" he asked as he passed his glass to her carefully. She filled it again and passed it back to him. Their fingers met and a small electric shock passed between them, Carl recoiled very suddenly, slopping some of the liquid onto the counter top he put the glass down abruptly and lowered his gaze.

"Forgive me." he muttered as Tifa wiped it with a tea towel.

"Hey it's not your fault, just a little static."

Tifa glanced across the wooden floor and tiles trying to determine where the rogue charge had come from.

Carl remained silent, pensively staring at his the back of hand, when he eventually looked up, he seemed slightly dazed. Tifa looked at him worriedly, despite still having lingering thought of him being a remnant, though somehow Tifa knew that wasn't the case either, he was too… she didn't know, familiar?

"Are you okay?"

He blinked slowly then nodded looking away ashamed, by what she didn't know.

"I am fine."

He downed his drink and put some more Gil on the counter, not as silently as before, the spell had apparently been broken. In one quick motion, he was by the door, pulling his coat on, he looked over his shoulder.

"I'll be going now"

Tifa looked from Carl, to the storm outside, in which rain fell in icy cold sheets. A piece of metal flew through the air, the battered remains of a stop sign, as it was whipped about by the savage wind as if it were weightless.

"Hey, wait!" Carl stopped at the door, looking back "we have rooms upstairs, you could stay here, that storm looks dangerous."

"No thank you I must be getting on." he paused and put his hood up slowly, musing over something.

"Tifa?"

"Yes?"

"He... he's still very proud of you... he just wishes you weren't so full of hate… He is watching over you and so are your friends. In the Lifestream. Your friend told me you were the best cook ever and even now he wishes he could still taste your cooking"

Carl opened the door and slipped out while Tifa stood speechless at the bar. After a few seconds she ran to the door and threw it open, immediately she was buffeted by the strong wind. She looked out but the mysterious man was no where to be seen, he had vanished without a trace.