AN: And it continues. I just realized how often I use alcohol in my stories...you all must think I'm some sort of alcoholic...I'm not. I'm underage. :) It just helps to loosen characters up enough to admit things...
Keiei: Well, I didn't know that other meaning for Samiel...interesting stuff. I always choose names before I choose characters; thanks for pointing that out.
Chapter 4 – Ravvivando
It had taken three shots of vodka and a whiskey chaser, but Cloud Strife was dancing. With Yuffie.
Earlier the pesky ninja had introduced him to her group; mostly disgruntled older teenagers and twenty something college dropouts. If Shinra was still around, these kids would be prime Turk material. At least they had a sense of humor. Though he couldn't quite figure out why one of them, a girl named Rinna, was with them. She seemed a little...young.
Music is nice...alcohol is nice...
For the most part, Cloud's head felt like it was gloriously happy; as were his feet. The throbbing beat of the music inspired him somehow, and he had yanked Yuffie into it, firmly holding onto her shoulders. She had protested at first, but he flashed her that smile—a trick he had learned from Zack.
Hmm...pretty.
Cloud was playing with Yuffie's hair, and seemed particularly fascinated with the green addition.
"Spike," she said annoyed, "I thought I told you to desist holding my hair hostage!" He gave her a goofy grin. She sighed, regretting letting him drink so much.
"Hey, when did you get so pretty?" he said innocently, iron grip still on her hair. She gasped.
"Whoa, you're quite drunk," she said; her speech often improved under the influence of her favorite poison.
"Yuffs!" one of her friends called, "How's about giving us a chance!" Cloud had noticed that several of the girls were friendly to him...very friendly. Even if he was wearing something Yuffie suggested.
Maybe I should just take this off...it's warm in here...
He tugged at the odd black shirt, shifting some of the fish netting in a bunched and uncomfortable manner. Yuffie was giving him a strange look, but he just grinned.
"Hot," he said, as if she would understand. Five seconds later, Yuffie was gawking at a shirtless Cloud.
"Um...S-spike..." she mumbled, unable to tear her eyes away, "Y-your...pecs...er...shirt..." He was grinning again, obviously proud of himself.
"Yuffie! Outside!" he shouted, dragging her again across the dance floor. She groaned.
"I didn't realize you were like this when drunk..." she muttered, feeling the chill of the night air suddenly enclose her. Her miniskirt, fishnets, and black tank top did nothing to keep her warm. Her teeth soon began to chatter.
"Stars," he said, awestruck with the celestial display, "...pretty..." She rolled her eyes. Now she understood why he would say "let's mosey" so much...
Tifa likes stars...I miss her...
The goofy grin suddenly fell from his face, and he almost looked normal. Yuffie frowned at his sudden change in demeanor.
"You're not going to hurl, are you?" she said, waving a hand in front of his face. It had little or no effect on him; his continued his stone-faced stare. She pulled her arms around her, shielding herself from the cold.
"Earth to Cloud..." she said, balancing precariously on her spike heels. From this perspective, she almost felt taller than him. She liked the brief feeling of superiority.
Gods, what is it with me? I feel happy and sad at the same time...
"I guess it's only fair," he began muttering, turned away from Yuffie, "I didn't even notice it until she was yelling at me, holding it in front of my face." She raised an eyebrow, impatiently tapping her toe.
"I guess nothing's really changed," he said quietly, "I'm still fourteen...only I've seen more than I would ever have wanted to..." She cleared her throat.
"You wanna know what your problem is?" she said suddenly, looking at him sternly. His eyes glazed over, and upon noticing this, she makes an annoyed sound in her throat.
"You dwell on things far too much," she says, feeling wiser with the alcohol pulsing through her veins, "You're the whiny boy that nobody likes...and you are the only reason for that. Gawd! You can't even be drunk for long without contemplating such a thing."
"What do you care?" he said smoothly, like pre-rehearsed lines, "You're just a stupid princess anyway..." She clenched her teeth, and he realized too late what he called her.
"Fine! Enjoy being such a lonely stupid jerk!" she shouted at him, stomping off to find her friends.
Damn. I need more vodka...
Meanwhile, Elsewhere...
He was reading, having found out the strange circumstances in which Tifa obtained such a book, and was oddly at ease. He would have to thank Nanaki for forcing him to learn Cetran to a level that he could read most of it. A few passages confused him, and not having his translation guide on hand, had to make do with what he could read without it.
"Was not!"
"..."
"Was not!"
The sounds of another inevitable argument with Kale were already underway. Vincent couldn't help but notice the little trouble maker's resemblance to a certain Turk they once fought, but he kept his comments to a minimum. He just hoped it wasn't one of that man's undoubtedly numerous illegitimate children. That would just be too ironic.
"Boys! I thought I told you that you weren't allowed to talk to each other until tomorrow!" Tifa's exasperated voice rang through the large room clearly and distinctly, giving him cause to look up. She was standing over the two boys, hands on her hips, jaw clenched, and looking like she would rein fire upon them. Kale was staring her down defiantly, while the other boy, Caleb, was staring at Kale, pleading with him silently to stop his unnecessary bravery. Tifa wasn't angry; she had a much different way of expressing that. It was her assertion of her own authority, something that Vincent used to know how to do.
Back then, all I had to do was look and someone and they understood. And I hated it.
"But Miss Teefa..." Kale whined, eliciting a copious groans from other children in the room.
"No story time for the both you," she finally commanded, laying down the worst of punishments. Both boys' eyes grew wide, and a quiver began on Kale's lip. Caleb just shrugged, disappointed but not fazed. Vincent smirked, but then turned his look unexpressive, as Tifa glared at him.
He resumed his reading, turning the world away with the concentrated focus of his eyes. He knew she would talk with him later, once the children were put to bed.
"My mind is on fire, impassioned with the thoughts of a new tomorrow. These humans...an intriguing race for certain. There are some that have begun to suspect Ayin of fool play... How could they think that of an angel? Her ways are strange, but interesting. It's not everyday that someone falls from the skies."
That's right, Gast named her Jenova, it's fitting that the Cetra called her something different, more organic...
Some Time Later...
"They'll put gray hairs on my head," Tifa said slumping down with an exhaustive sigh. He lifted an eyebrow delicately, eyes still affixed on the page.
"They call it love, what I feel for this angel. My sister, she prods me about it. But that cannot be it; she is far too above me for mere love--that preconceived emotional response. Maybe it is a form of ideal love, making her the embodiment of all that is good and right in this little planet. We she speaks, I cannot hear the Planet, and for once, I am not afraid..."
"Are you even listening?" she asked, her head leaning over the book, pieces of her hair falling into his line of vision. He looked up, frozen with the realization of her proximity. He hoped that the flicker on unease didn't show through his eyes, as he was assured his facial muscles were behaving. She smiled, a relaxed and easy smile, finally having his attention.
"I apologize, I was reading," he said quietly, swallowing hard upon finishing his phrase. Her eyes darted to the page, eyebrows furrowing upon realization she could not read it.
"I remember what Tiveph's Cetra name looked like..." she muttered, still hunched over and idly tapping her chin with a fingernail.
I need air...this is...
"What kind of things does he write about?" she asked finally standing upright. Vincent let out the breath he was holding and flipped through a couple of pages of the book.
"Mostly about his observations," he mumbled, avoiding her eyes, "Seems like he was absolutely enamored with Jenova. Her mind control abilities must have been absolutely stunning back then, even more so than recently." She considered his words, and gently took a seat on the couch next to him. He automatically shifted over to the opposite side.
"That makes sense," she contemplated, nervously fiddling with a lock of hair, "But I wonder...why was he so obsessed with emotion? Like what he did to Cloud...and to you..." The last part was barely above a whisper, subtle and breathy.
"I have not read that far," he deadpanned, lowering his raised eyebrow, "Maybe it was just an extension of his ideal..."
"I want to talk about it," she said with a gentle push; the tone of voice she used to coax the children into eating their vegetables.
Can I? With you so close...
"I do not think it is wise," he said quietly, closing the book gently, "We should not dwell on the past." She frowned, filling her whole face with discontent. He would not be getting away so easily tonight.
I already told you she forgave me. About what Tiveph said. Why must you pry into the worst part...?
"'And he would be one to have dared look upon perfection, and thus fall for the transgression'..." she recited, eyes closed to help recall the memory, "'The path to Hell lies in their eyes. Do not be fooled by their smiles, their amorous sighs...'" He found himself staring whilst her eyes were closed, drinking in the natural warm her face exuded.
Oh, sin certainly looks like a woman's face. A beautiful woman...
"The legend?" he asked, wanting to break the thick tension in the air. She nodded, eyes still closed, lips parted. He had to fight to keep his eyes off her; the serenity of her form was all too tempting.
"Vincent?" she asked, barely a breath upon her tongue, "Do you believe in absolution? Do you think he'll ever...forgive me?" Her eyes opened, pleading and full of guilt, and he was troubled by them.
I've never tried...
"He already has, Tifa," he said gently waiting for her warmth to return, already missing it, "He just has yet to forgive himself." Then, with one swift movement, she broke the unspoken barrier, clinging to him. His eyes grew wide, and his body didn't seem to process what had happened; it just had enough time to tense.
"Just let me stay here for a moment. I'm not asking for anything..." she whispered into his shirt. She pulled on his hands, human and prosthetic, placing them around her shoulders.
Maybe...just this once.
He heard a small noise in the back of the house, and looked up in time to see Rinna's unsteady figure slip past towards the bedroom. Their eyes met for a second; she with a frightened deer look, and he with a guilty expression on his face. Then she smirked and went through the door.
I won't tell if you don't tell...
"...I would have chosen Hell..." she breathed, too quiet for him to hear over the beating of his heart.
More Music!
Club Music: Any Andy Hunter song. Techno is nice.
Rinna's Theme: Teenage Alien Nation American Hi-Fi
Cloud's Angsty Theme: A Better Place Vast
Vincent and Tifa's Theme: The Dream Within Lara Fabian (credit music for FF:The Spirits Within) Explains the nature of their conversing...