Author's Note. I. Don't. Own. Final. Fantasy. So. There! (Thank goodness.
If I owned these characters, I'd take them out back and have them shot!)
Chapter Ten
A Song From the Past
Tifa sat watching the kettle on the stove, absently whistling a tune to herself. It was a song from her childhood that she used to play on her piano, and it kept her attention focused, kept her awake. The past couple days had proven stressful on all of Avalanche. Yuffie, being the strongest Materia user left to them, was forced to administer the majority of Cid's healings. Red XIII had almost disappeared entirely upon his discovery of the Turks being in town to finding them, but between all the new scents littering the area, and the discovery that Elena's perfumed scent was everywhere in Kalm, including a large chunk of the houses, the feline warrior had come up with no leads.
After the discovery of a dead body, Mayor Domo's old assistant, had caused a near panic in Kalm. The body was found beaten and robbed. In the hours that followed, Barret and Cloud had busied themselves with making a police force out of volunteers from the citizens of Kalm and a few of the refugees to try to prevent future occurences.
Tifa's hours had been filled with watching over Cid. Yuffie, Barret and Red XIII sometimes took over for an hour or two here and there, but not often enough to be helpful. Cloud was avoiding the injured pilot entirely. Tifa suspected that he blamed himself for Cid's injury.
The kettle began to whistle and Tifa jumped. She'd forgotten about it entirely. Slipping an oven mitt on, she grabbed the kettle and turned the stove off. Still whistling, she pulled out the things she needed to make Cid's tea.
The door opened, and Cloud strode in. He sat down on the stool she had just been on, and nodded to her. "I'm really tired," was all he said.
She almost wanted to laugh. He was tired? At least he had managed to get five hours of straight sleep yesterday. She caught herself before she actually did laugh.
"Is that the same tune you used to play on your piano? The one you have the sheet music to?"
She nodded, more focused on her whistling and the tea. Sleep was threatening to overtake her. She started to make herself a cup.
"Something about that song... reminds me of something. I don't know what, but it feels like something I should know."
Tifa shrugged, then picked up the two cups of tea. "I have to get this to Cid. You should visit him."
He shook his head. "I can't. I'm too busy. I will the first chance I get."
She nodded again and then left the inn. She loved Cloud, and understood his plight, but what he was doing was tearing Cid apart. The avoidance had made the pilot adopt an inadequete attitude, like he wasn't worth anything anymore. Tifa made a mental note to get in contact with Shera as soon as possible. She might help him, and failing that, yelling at her might help Cid somewhat. At the very least, Shera's presence would allow Tifa to get some sleep.
Maybe it was her focus on her soft whistling, the lack of sleep, or that her thoughts were concentrated on Shera and the help she might bring, but she never saw the large man step out of the alleyway she was walking past until she was on top of him. Tea spilled all over his front, and he grunted in pain. Quick reflexes let her save one cup, but the other was done for. Tifa immediately began to apologize, then looked up at his face.
Rude stared at her from behind a pair of sunglasses.
A smear of blood was on the side of his face. Without another thought, she threw the other cup of tea directly at him. Hot tea struck him on the side of the head as he twisted, avoiding taking the brunt of it in the face. With the movement, his right fist lashed out and caught her on the hip. She grunted, but as usual, the punch he had thrown at her seemed half-hearted, not meant to really injure or hurt, just a way to avoid further punishment.
Staggering back, Tifa took a moment to assess her opponent. Rude's clothes were rumpled, and blood spotted him in a few places, especially on his fists. Definitely not his own.
She also noticed that he was appraising her, also looking for details that might give him an advantage. She shifted her weight to her left leg, as if preparing to throw a kick. When he tensed and moved his hands to block, she delived a solid blow to his face, breaking his sunglasses. He stepped back, then removed the broken remnants that covered his face.
Tifa gasped.
His eyes... they were...
The moment's hesitation was all Rude needed. His left fist jabbed forward and struck her solidly in the stomach. The right fist swung around in a hook and clipped her in the side of the head. She crumpled immediately, fading in between conciousness and a daze. She felt herself being lifted and thrown over Rude's shoulder. With Tifa in tow, the Turk walked back into the alley he had come from. On the way through, Tifa noticed a body, it looked familiar... she tried to remember, but her mind was elsewhere.
Before she fell into unconciousness, she wondered where Rude had gotten Mako eyes from...
Author's Note: Wheeeee!! Next I think will be Cloud. Maybe Barret. ... er... maybe Reeve. Oh bullocks. It'll be someone's POV, that much I can guarantee.
Chapter Ten
A Song From the Past
Tifa sat watching the kettle on the stove, absently whistling a tune to herself. It was a song from her childhood that she used to play on her piano, and it kept her attention focused, kept her awake. The past couple days had proven stressful on all of Avalanche. Yuffie, being the strongest Materia user left to them, was forced to administer the majority of Cid's healings. Red XIII had almost disappeared entirely upon his discovery of the Turks being in town to finding them, but between all the new scents littering the area, and the discovery that Elena's perfumed scent was everywhere in Kalm, including a large chunk of the houses, the feline warrior had come up with no leads.
After the discovery of a dead body, Mayor Domo's old assistant, had caused a near panic in Kalm. The body was found beaten and robbed. In the hours that followed, Barret and Cloud had busied themselves with making a police force out of volunteers from the citizens of Kalm and a few of the refugees to try to prevent future occurences.
Tifa's hours had been filled with watching over Cid. Yuffie, Barret and Red XIII sometimes took over for an hour or two here and there, but not often enough to be helpful. Cloud was avoiding the injured pilot entirely. Tifa suspected that he blamed himself for Cid's injury.
The kettle began to whistle and Tifa jumped. She'd forgotten about it entirely. Slipping an oven mitt on, she grabbed the kettle and turned the stove off. Still whistling, she pulled out the things she needed to make Cid's tea.
The door opened, and Cloud strode in. He sat down on the stool she had just been on, and nodded to her. "I'm really tired," was all he said.
She almost wanted to laugh. He was tired? At least he had managed to get five hours of straight sleep yesterday. She caught herself before she actually did laugh.
"Is that the same tune you used to play on your piano? The one you have the sheet music to?"
She nodded, more focused on her whistling and the tea. Sleep was threatening to overtake her. She started to make herself a cup.
"Something about that song... reminds me of something. I don't know what, but it feels like something I should know."
Tifa shrugged, then picked up the two cups of tea. "I have to get this to Cid. You should visit him."
He shook his head. "I can't. I'm too busy. I will the first chance I get."
She nodded again and then left the inn. She loved Cloud, and understood his plight, but what he was doing was tearing Cid apart. The avoidance had made the pilot adopt an inadequete attitude, like he wasn't worth anything anymore. Tifa made a mental note to get in contact with Shera as soon as possible. She might help him, and failing that, yelling at her might help Cid somewhat. At the very least, Shera's presence would allow Tifa to get some sleep.
Maybe it was her focus on her soft whistling, the lack of sleep, or that her thoughts were concentrated on Shera and the help she might bring, but she never saw the large man step out of the alleyway she was walking past until she was on top of him. Tea spilled all over his front, and he grunted in pain. Quick reflexes let her save one cup, but the other was done for. Tifa immediately began to apologize, then looked up at his face.
Rude stared at her from behind a pair of sunglasses.
A smear of blood was on the side of his face. Without another thought, she threw the other cup of tea directly at him. Hot tea struck him on the side of the head as he twisted, avoiding taking the brunt of it in the face. With the movement, his right fist lashed out and caught her on the hip. She grunted, but as usual, the punch he had thrown at her seemed half-hearted, not meant to really injure or hurt, just a way to avoid further punishment.
Staggering back, Tifa took a moment to assess her opponent. Rude's clothes were rumpled, and blood spotted him in a few places, especially on his fists. Definitely not his own.
She also noticed that he was appraising her, also looking for details that might give him an advantage. She shifted her weight to her left leg, as if preparing to throw a kick. When he tensed and moved his hands to block, she delived a solid blow to his face, breaking his sunglasses. He stepped back, then removed the broken remnants that covered his face.
Tifa gasped.
His eyes... they were...
The moment's hesitation was all Rude needed. His left fist jabbed forward and struck her solidly in the stomach. The right fist swung around in a hook and clipped her in the side of the head. She crumpled immediately, fading in between conciousness and a daze. She felt herself being lifted and thrown over Rude's shoulder. With Tifa in tow, the Turk walked back into the alley he had come from. On the way through, Tifa noticed a body, it looked familiar... she tried to remember, but her mind was elsewhere.
Before she fell into unconciousness, she wondered where Rude had gotten Mako eyes from...
Author's Note: Wheeeee!! Next I think will be Cloud. Maybe Barret. ... er... maybe Reeve. Oh bullocks. It'll be someone's POV, that much I can guarantee.