Nightmare of Wings
"Uh," Zack began, "Why do you keep doing The Thing whenever you talk to Cloud?"
"What thing?" Sephiroth closed the report he had on his desk as he looked up at his fellow SOLDIER. He vaguely worried about whether or not he'd properly capped the pen he'd used to mark his place, but most of his focus was taken by the sly grin spreading itself worryingly across Fair's features.
"You know, the Thing!" the black haired man smiled.
"I assure you, I do not, in fact, know 'the thing' of which you speak of."
Zack snorted, "What, seriously, you don't know?"
Sephiroth narrowed his eyes.
Zack just trotted across the room to a bookcase, picking out an empty binder Sephiroth had stored there earlier, "The Thing, Seph, the THING! Every time you talk to him you kinda stand up straight, and when you've got your wing out, it just. Flares out and, you know!" He mimed some sort of action, the binder fluttering about a little as he waved it high, "The thing your wing does, Seph! The Thing!"
Sephiroth proceeded to watch the Buster Sword wielder strut around for a full minute before he sighed at the man's ridiculousness, "Fair. You can stop strutting about like a bull chocobo in a breeding pen, and start making sense any time now. WHAT thing?"
Whatever he'd said had a major effect on Fair, but not the type of effect he'd hoped for. Fair stared at him, wide eyed. Completely and utterly silent. Then. "Uh. Seph... did you just. Is it really?"
"Did I just WHAT?"
"Oh Minerva! It makes so much sense now. That's why you're doing The Thing! Oh my gods, bwaahaahaahaa!" Zack started laughing. And laughing, and laughing, until eventually he keeled over and nearly knocked over one of the guest chairs, "Aaaah haah haaa haaahh! Oh no! Oh god it hurts! Ah hah hah! It's too funny, mercy! Mercy! Pfffffooo hoo hoo hah haaah ha!"
Sephiroth stared, "Zack..."
Zack just grinned, pointing at Seph. "The thing! Seph! The thing! Bull chocobo! BULL chocobo! Pfffffah haah hah! Bull chocobo in a breeding pen! Yeeeeh heeeh heeh haa haa!
Sephiroth stared.
And then, in a moment of mortified clarity, Sephiroth understood.
Despite being nearly asphyxiated by his own mirth and rolling on the ground, Zack Fair still managed to, somehow, make it out the door before Sephiroth could even get to his feet.
The pen's tip rolled onto the floor. Sephiroth looked down to see black ink all over his desk, and the report, from where he'd accidentally slammed his hand onto his writing implement and broken it. He glared at the door as a poor third stood in the doorframe with a stack of papers, looking in confusion at the man thundering away down the hall and cackling madly as he made his escape. The SOLDIER seemed to know that he'd clearly picked a bad time to come to his superior's office, judging by his worried posture and confused features.
Sephiroth just sighed and sat back down. It was one of those days.
Nightmare of Black
Sephiroth knows what he's looking at the moment he sees it through Cloud's mind. He know this must be a dream of sorts, since him and the blonde only recently fell to slumber. It's just a dream. He knows it. But that doesn't stop him from from feeling the pain, the oozing, the despair of the sickly substance dribbling down his (not his) arm. The substance that surges everywhere.
He's drowning in Black.
Geostigma, he vaguely realizes. The disease he'd inflicted upon the world. Far too spiteful to simply let go of life, Sephiroth remembered how hard he'd had to cling to existence, to cling to the memory of himself, when he had perished at Meteorfall. Clung so hard and heinously, and let the unimportant pieces of himself drift away into fading memory, the flow of the lifestream. Let the world feel his anger and wrath, let the others whom passed writhe and coil in a hatred of his and their own making, let Jenova's legacy infect the dead and living both. He'd clung to every scrap and sentiment that he could to survive. The strongest one of all, of course, was that Cloud Was Alive. That knowledge was his core. He anchored himself to Cloud in more ways than one. Made his hatred of Cloud the center of his being, made Cloud key to his survival, and damned the blonde with the suffering he deserved for what he did to Sephiroth. Sephiroth, in death, had still clung to life. Clung so hard that it rotted under his grip. Geostigma had taken the living, and made them wish they were dead. Made them suffer, made them view the world with hatred and spite, or made them despair at how cruel the world was.
Despair, oh. It had once been so delicious to him. But now, as he felt himself pulled into Cloud's warped memories, he wondered how such a sour thing had ever appealed to him.
The nightmare continued despite Sephiroth's musings, and Sephiroth was entirely sure that Cloud wasn't in control of it. That this vision was a subconscious distortion of what he once knew. He felt just how desperate Cloud had been at the time as he roiled in the recurring nightmare. Flinched at the pain he knew he'd caused, the pain he'd once rebelled in ripping out of the shorter man. And yet, all Sephiroth could do was watch.
The nightmare had started as a normal day. Deliveries in Edge. A slice of life as he nodded in goodbye to Tifa (sadness, longing) and grinned as he waved at Marlene and Denzel (gods, not Denzel, why him, it should never have been like this). Yet there was ever the edge of an unknown unease. The first child of Jenova mutely surveyed the dream as Cloud went about his day, picked up his first delivery, the world a blur. It all seemed peaceful, normal. Until, that is, he knocked on his first customer's door.
They opened it. Recoiled in horror. Cloud didn't know why, didn't know what he'd done to deserve this (everything), and looked down when he realized the customer (faceless, voiceless) was staring at his arm. His arm, that dribbled black. He tried to say it was alright, tried to deny the inevitable truth. But they both knew what it meant, the customer slamming the door in Cloud's face as he begged them that it was all right. For him, for Denzel, for everyone. Everything was going to be all right.
They both knew it wasn't.
The black kept flowing. It didn't just come from his arm. Soon he was coughing it up, drowning as it poured from countless wounds like blood and dripped from his eyes like the tears he didn't deserve to let fall (Aerith fell). He clawed at himself as air refused to enter his lungs, choked as his throat was raw from grief and terror (Aerith was dead, Zack was dead, Denzel would die, he'd failed the world he'd FAILED). Cloud tried to run as everything went dark. He could no longer see through the Black that clung to him, desperate for any shred of life so that it could take it away.
Suddenly, Cloud could see. He could breathe. The fresh scent of flowers wafted past. Cloud breathed deeply, desperate in relief, falling to his knees as he felt Aerith's flowers surround him. He delicately touched a bloom, glowing white in the gentle daylight, reassuring him that all would be fine. That he would heal.
Cloud smiled.
His arm dripped black once more.
Cloud looked at it in horror. No, no! No no no nonononononoNONONO!
He pawed at it, tried to fling it away, tried to get it away from him. He only succeeded in desecrating the holy petals below. Cloud watched as the black splattered all over the flowers, watched the black drip lovingly down as it claimed more life for its own. Claimed everything it could, promising only death and despair in return. He wailed in fear, in horror and anguish, as he noticed that the flowers weren't white, but silver, silver like a demon's hair. He cried out as he felt himself sink into the bog hidden by the flowers. Beneath their sharp leaves was endless black, deep and slimy like innards and decomposition, held in place by roots that twisted and grasped like veins, and glued to him by the same Black that oozed down his arm. He reached out for the blue sky, only it wasn't blue at all. It was, as was everything else, black; a starless night. Cloud sank and sank, and couldn't even scream as he drowned once more in Black, hidden by the flowers that marked his grave.
He reached up through the dark waters, desperate for help. He cried out for the saviour he knew had died to a rain of bullets long ago.
As he looked up through the surface of the water, Cloud could barely see the glowing trees of the forgotten Capital, could only just make out the outlines of the three Remnants through the dark, tainted waters as they pushed him deeper, held him under with the help of the Black. Black stifled him. Black grasped him, put its claws in him all the way to his soul, drug him deeper into the void, drowned him.
"Join us, won't you, brother?"
"Join us!"
The nightmare ended as Cloud caught sight of his reflection, slit-green eyes mirrored on the underneath of the water's surface.
Sephiroth made his way slowly to Cloud's room. He sat at the foot of Cloud's bed as the blond threw his sheets as far away from himself as he could, wide-eyed and reacting on instinct. Reacting to being drowned in the Black by freeing himself from everything that ensnared him. Cloud simply stared at the rumpled sheets on the floor, not a note of comprehension in his features.
Sephiroth sat at the foot of Cloud's bed, and approached no further than that. He merely offered his hand, gently held Cloud's own to ground him in reality, and mourned how hard he'd clung.
Nightmare of Ridicule
"Good Gaia. This is a riot."
Both Cloud and Sephiroth turned to Zack, who was casually and comfortably stuffed into a lovechair in the middle of their living room. He held a thick sheaf of papers, each one brightly coloured with low quality ink that smudged off the newsprint and onto his hands. His nose had a tinge of blue, and his face had a look of mischief so intense that only one born of the Fae should have ever had the right to wear it. Yet there he was.
"Why did we give you a key again?" Cloud harrumphed, studiously ignoring the impending chaos the grin on Zack's face foretold.
Zack, of course, would not be swayed. "Man. Some really cute pictures here you two! Honestly. The only thing better is all the stories. Dude, tabloids are pretty much the best version of a 'funny caption contest' you can get." Sephiroth instantly tensed at the mention of the tabloids. Yet his eyes held a spark of something; Primal fear, morbid curiosity, and a tiny bit of hesitance, all dominated by the ever-present sneer Sephiroth wore in his typical 'this-ought-to-be-good' approach to life.
Cloud was NOT looking forward to this.
"Secret clone of Rupert's disgraced brother? Or Wutaiian spy sent to seduce the enemy? Ho ho, man, these guys don't go by half, do they?"
"Zack!" Cloud squawked, already going red as a beet, "where on earth did you get that!?"
Despite the interruption, Zack would not be derailed, "Oh, the secret lovers trope for this one! So old-fashioned. Ugh. Literally the picture is just Seph smiling and tapping your shoulder, Cloud. Man, that's great." Zack waved the offending picture towards the pair, but wisely held it out of reach, if not visual range. Cloud yelped and reached for it. He might even have made it if Sephiroth hadn't held him back.
"I'm not sure this is as entertaining as you make it out to be," Sephiroth stated, but his smirk was undeniable.
"Oh no," Zack continued, his face stern, "It's very serious. After all. Did you know? Cloud is cheating on you, with me!" He presented another photo, with Zack holding an arm around Cloud's shoulder as Sephiroth looked away in the background. "Or maybe he's cheating on me with you. Oh, Cloud, how could you?"
"Give that here!"
Zack offers the magazine, but not towards Cloud. Sephiroth picks it up, giving it a critical appraisal as Cloud squirms from where Sephiroth is literally holding him at arm's length. "Hmm. A serious matter indeed. Cloud. Why must this confession come from Zack? And I thought you were so loyal. How could you."
Cloud takes one look at the wicked smile Sephiroth is directing at him before leaping at the tabloid, managing to wrench a part of it from Sephiroth's hands. Zack pouts in an obviously exaggerated manner as he watches the poor thing get torn in two, "Now now, guys. I'm sure we can all work this out. Truly, our love cannot be held by such mortal bounds! Maybe we could try polyamory, like this one suggests! So very open-minded of them! I might cry!" He wipes away a fake tear as he holds up another poor-quality magazine.
Sephiroth just raises an eye at Zack's shit-eating grin and smirks, "Hmm. It's a good thing we know a flower girl, then. I imagine we'd need a lot of flowers for such a wedding."
Cloud hollers, askance, "Are you two serious!?"
"Oh. Absolutely," Zack smiles.
"Unerringly."
"I hate you two!"
"Oh geeze, Seph, maybe we shouldn't piss him off!" Zack suddenly says as he leans back with a (very much faked) fearful expression, "I mean, haven't you heard? It's obvious! He's actually a Turk in disguise!" Zack offers up yet another tabloid. He grins, "A Turk hired by Corneo, even! Ooh, you traitor!"
"I talk nicely with a Honeybee girl ONE time! And this is what they say?!"
"I'm rather surprised they didn't take the obvious route of him being a secret prostitute."
"Nah. That one's the oldest trick in the book. They had to make it good for this one," Zack explained with a wave. "I can't believe calling you a secret Turk is one of the more tame theories out there. Reno must be having kittens right now."
"I am sure he'd be eager to work with his associate again, now that his cover has been blown," Sephiroth joked, his monotone voice doing little to hide the gleeful glint in his eyes.
"Seriously! Screw you two! Why are these all about me anyways?!"
"Because my stories got boring after the twelfth 'Is he actually a werewolf? Oh my god!' story. Geeze. That puppy nickname sure got a lot of mileage though," Zack grumbled.
"I may have had something to do with that," Sephiroth hinted.
Cloud's eyes narrowed, "I will have my revenge, Zack. You will not escape it."
Sephiroth gives him a side-eye and a raised brow, since it's a little ironic of Cloud to mention an inescapable revenge. He lets it slide, "Well, if that is the case, then I shall leave you to plan it. I have other important matters to attend to right now." And then he sidles up to Zack, who happily shows him more of the ridiculous news columns.
Cloud points at them, "Both of you are in for it."
Sephiroth waves him off, "Of course, of course. Oh, dear. Looks like you're a werewolf too. I fear that Zack must have turned you," he says as he watches Zack happily point out the story. "Ah. Perhaps I should fear for my own humanity, as it seems you two may be plotting against me."
Zack nods, "Admit it! You'd look good with wolf ears."
Cloud turns to storm off, "I'm leaving!" he grinds out. But his voice is a little hysterical.
Suddenly, Sephiroth goes ramrod straight. Blinks. Stares, Then nearly doubles over laughing in a full-hearted roar that spooks Zack enough to fall out of his seat. He manages to collect himself despite an askance look from his black-haired subordinate, covering his mouth as he grins, "Oh no."
"What-"
"The time traveling-"
"WHAT!"
"-Son of Rufus, sent to foil a plot to murder his fath-! His, his fa, his fatherppffffff!" Sephiroth loses his battle with laughter, all semblance of poise dissipating faster then a fart in a hurricane. Zack laughs along with him, albeit a little confused.
Cloud just screeches incoherently, flings his arms upwards in mental surrender, and stomps out of the room.
Nightmare of Nonsense
Sephiroth was afraid. Sephiroth was deathly afraid.
His jacket was green.
It was the most horrifying, terrifying, inescapable shade of lime green ever. He knew he couldn't take the jacket off, for some reason. And that made it worse, because he couldn't talk about it either. Hojo ran away in fear. He saw some bystanders, samurais, run for their lives, wearing Wutaiian clothing and expressions of despair. Even sea monsters fled in terror at the mere sight of it as they slunk away under the frozen surface of the waters that held them. Truly the green jacket was, undoubtedly, a terror of the cosmos.
And then Sephiroth blinked.
He looked around, taking stock of his surroundings as his mind snapped to clarity. The unusual duster he wore snapped along with him a little. It was just his normal attire, although miscoloured. Why had he been so afraid of it? As he looked around, he noticed that there was something extremely odd going on, and not just with his jacket. He watched people run away down the lane, his quick mind quickly identifying the place as Junon. The sight of the Junon cannon helped cement this observation, although he wasn't sure why the thing looked like it had been cut in half like that one time him and Angeal had gotten a little sword-happy in the VR room. He was even less sure about why it was currently being repaired with vastly oversized bandages that looked to be designed for children, or why the street beneath him was actually a gigantic sheet of ice that wasn't actually cold. Or maybe it was glass?
Hmm. Definitely something odd going on.
Pedestrians keep moving down the lane, many in bright colours, while others jeer and cheer and boo at a parade that seems to be occurring. Sephiroth isn't sure why the entire parade is composed of literally faceless troopers, or why there's a cavalcade of dancing chocobos, but at the moment that just seems par for the course. As he watches, however, he notices one trooper that differs from the rest. They differ greatly at that. It wasn't just the fact that he was panicking and walking backwards, it was the sweat-drenched, familiar tufts of blonde hair poking out from under their helmet in a disarray.
Seohiroth hummed in satisfaction and walked towards his target. Cloud was a familiar face, even with their features hidden in an infantry uniform. As he approached, he noticed further oddities. First of all, Cloud was... shorter than expected. Gangly. A reflection of his teen years, Sephiroth presumed.
The other, far more concerning oddity? Cloud was terrified.
""What's bothering you," Sephiroth asked calmly. He was concerned, of course, because anything that could frighten Cloud must have been terrifying indeed. Then again, Spehiroth himself had been terrified by his jacket earlier, despite the only difference from normal being its colour. With that in mind, he calmed down somewhat.
"G-general, sir!" Cloud squawked. Sephiroth calmly gazed at him, even as half the troopers behind him fled in terror from Sephiroth's lime-green clothing.
"At ease," Sephiroth began as he himself took a parade rest position, "Cadet. It appears something is bothering you. Can you tell me what it is?" None of the world made sense at the moment, but whatever. He could run with this.
"Uh, uh, it's... well... sir?" Cloud was trembling and looking around at the rest of the parade. He frowned, "It was, well... I was walking backwards? Everyone was going to laugh at me..."
"I don't hear anyone laughing." Sephiorth blinked. There were jeers in the background, sure, but as they listened, they noticed that the sound skipped and repeated and distorted, as if played back on a broken record.
Cloud stopped. He looked around, as if trying to figure out a puzzle. He still seemed nervous, "Uh, well... sir? There was something. What was it...? I'm forgetting something again?"
Sephiroth blinked again, looking away. "Hmm," he pondered, "perhaps... well. There's a lot of things that are odd. You aren't in SOLDIER right now... you have a gun, instead of your sword. Your uniform is perhaps a bit threadbare. Is it any of those things throwing you off?"
Cloud stared, he screwed up his face, "Well. Yes, but no? Those shouldn't bother me. Why are those bothering me? Something set me off, what was-oh." Cloud suddenly looked up to the front of the parade, where a larger than normal chocobo was leading the event with a conductor's baton, "...That bird's tail is too long. Very poor caretaking. That's what set everything off." Then Cloud squinted, and looked back at Sephiroth, "Wait. Why would that bother me? I've seen weirder. You're wearing green, for Gaia's sakes, what-!?" He started looking around with frantic confusion, "Hey, what the hell. What is going on here?"
"I'm not entirely sure," Sephiroth grumbled.
Cloud pouted, "Hmph. Wish someone could tell me."
Sephiroth felt someone tap his shoulder. He turned around, frowning, but was soon taken aback when he noticed just how ODD the shinra trooper was that had just grabbed his attention was. He's pretty sure most troopers weren't covered in red fur, or had a tail, or walked rather awkwardly on legs clearly not meant for bipedal motion.
"Oh. Hello Nanaki?" Cloud said, more than a little boggled.
"Hello Cloud," said the creature. Sephiroth vaguely remembered something about one of Cloud's previous allies in AVALANCHE, but overall Nanaki was unfamiliar to him. The sage beast seemed to smile, a kind gesture despite having a few too many sharp teeth, "It has been a while, hasn't it? Ah. I haven't worn a uniform like this in quite a awhile. Anyways, I dawdle," he said, shrugging oddly. "Alas, I am afraid this isn't a proper meeting. You seem to be in a lucid dream, and I am but a figment of your imagination. My advice is the most I can muster to assist you with."
Cloud gave a sad smile, "Ah. That would explain it, " he mentioned as he looked around once more, "at least we have a start. Thank you Nanaki."
"Most welcome," Nanaki hummed. Then he hummed some more, which sounded rather more like a sad purr, "Cloud. You have always done well with some time to think. Perhaps some distance from this issue could provide you insight?"
"Right," Cloud agreed. He nodded to Sephiroth, and the two decided to do as suggested. As they walked, Sephiroth looked back at Nanaki as he, too, walked away. The silverette felt a little melancholic at having only met a fragment of memory of the Cosmo beast. The red creature seemed very calm and wise. He wondered what it would have been like to know him properly...
The parade moves on in their absence. The chocobo at the front with the baton, Sephiroth notes, also has a book. Some poor Trooper steps out of rhythm nearby, and is set on fire by the bird as it begins to quote LOVELESS. Sephiroth decides to ignore this and continue walking away with Cloud.
A dolphin splashes out of the frozen lake they stand on, pieces of ice scattering to the side. Ah, definitely not glass then, Sephiroth noted in bemusement. It offered them a drink. It also told them that it knew a secret way that they could get into Junon. As they were already in Junon, this seemed redundant. "Hmm," Sephiroth pondered as he accepted the drink, looking at it closely, "it appears to be... ah. Whatever it was that we were drinking before we fell asleep."
"That's the last time I try any more 'specialties' from Icicle Inn," Cloud bemoaned. "I blame Zack. Anyways. Nanaki had the right idea. Maybe we can try to distance ourselves a little more? I would really like to know when the hell we're going to wake up, and I need some time to think of ideas to wake up just in case."
"Ideas to wake up? A good query. And one that may or may not have an answer." Sephiroth watches at Junon begins to disappear behind them, the dolphin vendor marking the edge of the city. "We'll wake up in time if nothing else, I suppose," Sephiroth states as he chooses a random direction. He points, "This way. Seeing as we can do little more than wait until we awake, or think of any better ideas... we might as well kill some time. Or maybe we'll find some sort of trigger to wake ourselves up."
"Works for me."
And so they walked. In short order they came across a giant snowy mountain. It's shaped like a moogle. One of the peaks, upon closer inspection, is a waffle cone. Cloud looks down in confusion once he notices that they're no longer on hard ice, "Oh? It's made of ice cream?"
"A mountain, shaped like a moogle? And made... of ice cream." Sephiroth states, more than a little bewildered. He's not sure why any of this is surprising to him after how zany the rest of the dream has been so far, but still. He thinks he's allowed a little confusion.
"No, no, no! You're saying it wrong! It is the 'moogle-shaped-ice-cream-mountain.' Not the ice-cream mountain that's shaped like a moogle, or any other variant!" says a voice. A voice that sounds an awful lot like Yuffie, but neither of them is sure why that voice is coming from a three metre tall Ruby WEAPON that is walking towards them from over a nearby hill. Which is a lot shorter than what it usually was, so neither of them were complaining... even if it was wearing an outfit you mighty expect from an ice cream vendor.
"Do I really have to say it like that?" Cloud argued, even though arguing with a figure of his (their) imagination was pointless. It reminded both him and Sephiroth of those few times they tried to learn Wutai's mother tongue; Sephiroth from a tutor, and Cloud from Yuffie. The attempts had never gotten far in the latter case.
"Well Yes. You really have to say it like that," Ruby WEAPON stated solemnly, "just like my own name, as a WEAPON of the planet, must always be stated with that emphasis you can't understand, yet know is there. It is the will of the planet."
"The planet is a bitch," Cloud growled. Sephiroth blinked.
"Just enjoy the moogle-shaped-ice-cream-mountain, you killjoy," Ruby WEAPON said, still sounding like Yuffie. Then it toddled off down the hill. It was surprisingly steep for a hill. Beside them, a Jumping launched itself out of the snow, ready to attack. It saw Sephiroth's jacket, squealed in fear, and fled. They promptly ignored it. There was, soon afterwards, a sudden, loud whooping that resounded so loudly that they couldn't possibly ignore it. The pair turned and watch as Zack Fair crested the snowy topography, standing on top of a marlboro that was, in itself, stood on a giant snowboard. The two soon whooshed past them down the moogle-shaped-ice-cream-mountain. The snowboard looked suspiciously like the Buster Sword.
"Oddly enough, that's the sanest thing I've seen yet," Sephiroth noted.
"It's Zack. Enough said."
Aerith appeared from nowhere. She trailed behind Zack, her and her flowers stuffed gleefully into a snow tube that was apparently tied to the marlboro now that they looked a little closer at it. She, too, was whooping it up as the rope dragged her ride along. Sephiroth and Cloud blinked snow out of their faces as they watched the merry band trail further down the mountain, having a grand old time. Ruby WEAPON, trying to sell ice cream to the Jumping, was knocked over.
"Is that still saner than the rest of this nightmare?" Sephiroth asked, only moderately rhetorically.
"Yep," Cloud sighed in defeat, far too used to this level of insanity from his friends, "Very much yep." He brushed some snow out of his hair.
"Zack I would have expected. Your flower girl, not so much."
"Gods. You think Zack is insane when you work with him? Don't even get get me started on Aerith. I think I could safely blame her for half of what happened, and be right about it. Don't even get me started on-oh no."
Cloud looked down at himself. Sephiroth looked down too. Cloud was wearing The Dress.
"Son of a bitch."
And then they woke up.
Sephiroth can hear Cloud groan and cuss. He tries to lean up from wherever he is, or whatever the hell position he's currently in, but finds himself held down. Cloud is tangled in his own gear to Sephiroth's right, mumbling about how it's too damn cold. He moves, and it tugs at Sephiroth's leg. Because apparently, Cloud had managed to wrangle the taller man into his mess too. Sephiroth just stretches his wing, because it had been stiff and at a weird angle, and then flops it back down without particularly paying attention to where it drops. It, of course, lands on Cloud. Sephiroth muses aloud, a little put-out, "The dress. Of all things. It was the dress that woke you up."
"I will never again let anyone see me in that dress," Cloud snarked, as if that single piece of formal wear being the sole trigger to ending their bizarre dream was perfectly reasonable. Considering that it had brought him to full awareness when, seconds ago, he'd been groggily incoherent? Maybe that thought held merit.
Sephiroth pouted anyways, "What a shame."
"Shut it birdbrain."
The two are in the middle of extricating themselves from each other (or rather, Cloud is extricating himself, Sephiroth is doing nothing,) when a solemn voice rings out.
"Seph. My dude. I just had the WEIRDEST dream."
Sephiroth glares up at the black haired man on the couch across from them. Sephiroth doesn't quite remember how he had ended up in a room with multiple couches with Cloud and Zack in it at the same time, but considering the experience he just went through, he's not going to question it too much. Instead, he's going to blame whatever the hell Icicle Inn did to make such a hellish concoction, then throw said hellish concoction straight in the trash because there's a quarter-full bottle of it on the table and Fuck That Noise. Zack just watches from where he's sprawled on the back of the leather sofa, upside-down. Sephiroth is just relieved that the sofa isn't talking. Or lime green.
Cloud has gotten his head out from under Sephiroth's wing. His sleep and feather mussed hair is actually a bit cute. The blonde glares at Zack.
"Yeah, I know. Totally my bad," Zack says with a sheepish grin, as if it was actually his fault. Come to think of it, it definitely was Zack's fault, if Sephiroth's sudden, muddled memory of him saying that 'small towns are bored enough to make the BEST moonshine' is any indication. Zack purposefully knocks over another empty bottle. "But hey. All's well that ends well, right? Gotta have some adventure in your life every now and then!" He rolls over, still splayed over the couch, and starts looking like he's thinking something through. Then Zack perks up. "Anyway. Speaking of adventure. Anyone feel like snowboarding?"
Author's note: sometimes nightmares are scary, terrifying, and there's absolutely no reason they should be scary. I still remember being like, five years old, and the scariest dream I had was a scuba diver being chased by a giant angelfish in an underwater labyrinth, that had stairs to get out. I don't think the fish could even eat the diver. But, welp, little me was terrified until I woke up and went "Wait. Why is this scary, anyways?"
Also, yup. Multiple nightmare ficlets, many of them making sober psychoanalyses of these characters, and what do I end it off this? Pure, unadultered crack. Why the fuck not, right?
Thanks for reading y'all! Sorry it took so long, I genuinely forgot I'd written this and/or have been a LIITLE obsessed with Hollow Knight recently.