Loud uproarious laughter echoed throughout the old bar. The town's denizens cramming together in the small space, in an attempt to flee the harsh mid-day sun. Feet scuffled and scraped along the well-worn floorboards, kicking up the sand that had snuck in with them from the outside, giving the bar an even smokier appearance than it already had from pipe and cigarette. The smell of stale ale being passed around and poured down dry throats, and that of tobacco smoke mixed evenly with the salty tang of sweat and body odor.
Figures crowded together to watch dice games being played, booing or cheering at each toss. From the way that the chair groaned underneath their inhabitant's weight, the dull thuds of heavy boots across the wooden floor, and the damp smell of cave dirt spoke volumes of the mining operations that this town was involved in. This was the morning crew, resting up before their returning shift later in the evening.
The clack of heel against wood brought a spectator out of their internal musings. The sound was light, but the pattern of the steps was one of familiarity. It danced around the bar room cautiously, passing behind the groups closely knitted together and coming ever closer to the table. Another smell soon joined the others and assaulted the nasal passages of the listener, causing their face to scrunch up in disgust. Perfume, a floral mix between one strongly scented plant and another repulsive one. That was supposed to be appealing to the ones who happen to get a whiff? In this atmosphere it blended horribly with the masculine scents already present.
Two more steps and the one wearing the offensive scent was right in front of the spectator, pausing a second before setting down three glasses from the tray in her hands; two smelling of the ale, and one of clean water. There was the scrape of a chair being drawn closer to the table, and a creak as a body plopped down into it.
With an eyebrow raised, the listener reached for the glass of water and slowly brought it to their lips, inhaling slightly before drinking of it. The water was room temperature, but it still did its job. A soft sigh escaped before the glass was placed, still relatively full on the table. Years of living in dry climates had enforced a few habits. The woman across sniffed and grabbed one of the glasses of ale and nearly drained it. Her companion chuckled.
"What?"
The weight of her stare could be physically felt, as she set the glass on the table next to the other full one. The sound of her shifting around told her partner that her arms were crossed. No doubt crossed the mind that she probably had a small pout on her face.
"You still do not trust me." She said, her lilting accent strongly prominent. Her partners lip quirked up for a small second at the accusation.
"Seeing as you once put salt in my water, I believe I have a right to be cautious around you."
A cry of indignation vaulted out of her tiny frame, the chair she was sitting in shifted away a few inches as she placed her fists heavily on the table and brought her face closer to her partners scarred one, the perfume stronger in the close proximity. The nose crinkled again and a violent sneeze escaped a few breaths later. The woman sneered and barked a short laugh.
"That was one time, a small prank," she said with a wave, sending more of her perfume toward her partner with a wicked grin.
"Small prank or not, it's not very polite to spoil a blind individual's drink."
She huffed at that remark, glaring daggers at her partner as she shifted around her seat uncomfortably. She silently wished that they could have chosen a seat that was farther away from the window, away from the unforgiving sun. To make matters worse her partner just had to wear that blasted armor inside. The shiny metal of the pauldrons reflected the sun's rays into her eyes painfully, and she wondered how it could even be possible to stand that much heat. She chose much more breathable material than that stuffy garb.
She averted her eyes from the glare and scanned the room thoroughly. She had asked around previously if there were any jobs the two of them could take, but there were no bounties placed on anyone…or anything. She eyed the long blade leaning against the wall, its leather guard firmly in place with the straps hanging limply to the floor, the point slightly digging into the wooden floor.
There wasn't any trace of their last encounter, a juvenile Sand Drake that had been terrorizing a town's livestock for the past couple of weeks, left on it after the intense scrubbing that her partner had put it through after repeatedly saying the stench still clung to it. She had offered to put some of her floral perfume on it, but that only gained a sour look.
She sighed and turned her attention back to the table, her second glass of ale sitting awfully close to a beam of sun. Not wanting it to get too warm, she took a large gulp and grimaced. She should have drunk it earlier. A wry smile formed on her counterparts face, as if seeing the reaction she had given.
"And just what is so funny to you?"
A large groan erupted from the table on the far side of the bar, distracting the woman for a second. One of the miners had lost a dice roll and grudgingly paid for the winner's next drink. She turned back to her own drink to find there was considerably less in the glass than what she had drank out of it. She picked it up and noticed that it felt slightly warmer to the touch. She glanced first at where it had been sitting, still in a shaded area, and then at her partners smile.
"You did something…didn't you Cid?" She said suspiciously, swirling the remains of the liquid in the glass in a slow circle.
"What? You don't trust me?" was the reply with a feigned hurt tone to it. She rolled her eyes, knowing that the blind blade couldn't see it, and drank the remainder of the glass…only to find air. She dropped the glass on the floor in surprise as it slightly burned her fingertips.
"Did you know that alcohol evaporates faster than water when exposed to heat?" Cid asked with a chuckle, and then took another sip of the water. When finished the smile was no longer present. "Look, I know that was more than just your second glass Fiore. You need to stop spending your share of our earnings on drinks. With your small of a frame you don't need to drink all that much to become useless in a fight."
"I can hold my own well enough, thank you." She spat back at Cid, turning to give her partner the shoulder. The silence between them stretched for a few minutes, broken up by the ruckus of the other patrons of the bar and the occasional clunk of the glass of water meeting the table. Fiore glanced back over to her partner and stared, studying. She had no doubt that those ears that peaked from behind shaggy blond hair were fully alert to every sound in the room, she almost imagined them twitching like a rabbits with every vibration.
"You've calmed down." Cid remarked, startling Fiore a little.
She frowned slightly at the softened nature of her partners voice, and was about to say something when a shadow flashed by the window. Both hunters visibly stiffened in their seats as the doors to the bar were slammed open. Cid's hand had reflexively drifted to the blade, while Fiore's flew under her coat to her hips, the shiny steel of two handguns glistened in their holsters along either side. The rest of the patrons leapt from the tables they sat at and stood defensively.
The newcomer gasped for breath, leaning heavily against the door frame. He appeared to have run a great distance, as dirt and grime caked his ragged clothing. His haggard face scanned wildly through the crowd, lighting on the slightly less than half glass of water sitting between Cid and Fiore. He darted toward it and drained the liquid greedily, mumbling thanks before slumping to the ground. His breathing was still strained as he pulled out a piece of paper from inside his shirt.
"M-message from the town of Eren…Loden's Field has appeared near their town. It's mountainside!" he gasped out, holding out the paper shakily to one of the locals. A hushed silence fell over the bar, faces becoming grimmer by the second. Fiore glanced over at Cid.
"Loden's Field? Why is everyone so afraid of a bit of grass?" she laughed, earning glowering looks from the patrons.
"Missy, this ain't no field of grass. This thing's a monster." a voice said from across the room.
Fiore turned to the bartender, a tired looking man in roughly his late forties.
"A monster eh? You hear that Cidrias?" she asked, grinning toward her companion. Cid wordlessly stooped at the wall and strapped the blade across her back, the amber stone in the pommel catching a glint of sun. It almost gave an excited flicker of life within.
"It sounds like we're in business." she replied.
Authors Note: Not to worry dears, this is still a Final Fantasy VII fanfiction. It just needs a slight bit of build up. Patience please...
