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year 5, quarter 3
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It wasn’t that he needed his car in particular -- not the red and white striped beauty that he’d spent decades renovating and caring for -- but rather any vehicle that could travel in hours what would otherwise take days. Ardyn sighed as he leaned against a loose wooden fence, elbow propped and cheek in hand. He supposed he was simply too used to the modern world.
To which the outpost he found himself was most certainly not. Deep into the road between two cities, it was nothing more than a glorified pitstop for travelers and traders. Caravan carriages lined the outskirts in neat rows, their owners camping outside them in silent vigil. The night was anything but silent. Chocobos cawed in the moonlight, strutting in their temporary paddocks. The sounds of the forest were a constant hum, waxing and waning like the sky itself. Travelers huddled around a raging bonfire with skewered meat and ale. Would the light be enough to ward off daemons? He supposed here it hardly mattered.
Ardyn pushed off the fence with a huff, swaggering sideways as he turned to consider his options. What to do, what to do…
He certainly hadn’t intended on stopping. What was the night to him, after all? What was food or rest for that matter -- he’d gone two millennia without. But there was something about this place that had drawn him to it. Perhaps it was its rustic charm. Perhaps he was merely bored. Either way, his heart had settled on it, and he wasn’t one to listen to anything else.
He strolled through the camp with mild interest sometimes meeting the eyes of others and sometimes taking only to the stars. He had only just decided that perhaps he desired chaos when a jarring noise met his ears. A chocobo’s caw. It stretched its neck out to reach him.
Ardyn stopped and blinked, head tilted. It tilted its own head to match. Ardyn looked first one way then the other before touching at his chest. ”Me?” The bird’s beady eyes didn’t waver. It cawed again.
”Well, if you insist.” Ardyn approached and reached out a hand. The chocobo was nearly equal to him in height, caged as it was inside its fencing, and it hardly had to bend to sniff the back of his glove. Ardyn stroked the side of its head. "Now there's a good girl."
”Interested, are you?” A stablehand looked up from turning hay and put his hands on his hips. ”That there’s Jet. She’s a sucker for attention.” He propped his pitchfork against a post and started towards the fence. He held out his hand. ”And I’m Oscar. We take care of our chocobos here. You never know when a traveler might need one.”
”Ah.” Ardyn grasped his hand, and Oscar gave it a hard shake. ”She’s named for her speed, I suppose?”
”On account of her black feathers.” Oscar nodded towards her. Jet chirped her approval, head still tilted. ”We’ll do a rental for six hundred gil. I saw you walking into camp. She’ll get you where you’re going a whole hell of a lot faster.”
”Oh, I don’t know about that.” Ardyn raised his hands. ”I haven’t ridden a chocobo in…” How long was it now? Millennia? He hadn’t had a need for it in Niflheim.
”You’ve ridden before?” Oscar’s eyes sparked with victory. ”It’s not hard. Jet makes it easy.” Jet hadn’t taken her eyes off him. Or blinked for that matter. She pressed her forehead against his palm.
Her feathers were sleek at the touch. He hesitated then slid his fingers through them. What could it hurt, really?
”I suppose it’s like riding a bike as they say.”
”A bike?”
”Never you mind.” Ardyn patted his pocket and then another, fishing about in his sea of coats and vests until his brow furrowed. ”Now where did I put that-? Ah-hah! Here we are!” Ardyn smiled as he opened his coin purse. ”Six hundred, you said?”
Oscar straightened. ”To the letter.”
”That’s the ticket.” He grabbed a handful of gil and counted them in his palm. ”Oh, how I’d hate to cheat you. That would be quite immoral.” He drawled the words with an almost fiendish relish. It seemed the stablehand hadn’t noticed.
”Six hundred,” he said again.
”Yes, yes. To the letter.” He handed over the money, and the stablehand counted it again. After a moment, he brightened with a plastic smile.
”That’ll be all of it,” he said. ”I’ll get her saddled right away.”
Ardyn hummed happily. ”And do take care.”
As it happened, riding a chocobo was not like riding a bike.
”Ah, is this-? Oh dear.” Ardyn clutched at the handle, swaying with the motion of the bird as he clumsily swung his leg over. The chocobo squawked as it was struck by his weight, and it’s shifting did nothing for his balance. ”Oh, oh!” Ardyn grasped the handle tighter. ”Is this supposed to-?”
”Don’t worry!” Oscar waved his hands. ”She’s just surprised! Maybe it’s the smell of you…”
”And how am I to…?” Ardyn bit his tongue in thought. What had he done in his youth? After a moment, he gave a soft ”Ah!” and tapped his foot against the bird’s side.
The chocobo took off at a full sprint through the camp.
”Oh dear! Sorry, sorry!” Ardyn gave an apologetic wave as Jet dodged around two strolling individuals who threw themselves headlong out of the way. ”How do I-? Quite sorry!” The chocobo streaked past the fire, leaving a trail of feathers behind it. Ardyn grasped the reigns, hesitated, and then thrust them sideways. The chocobo swerved wildly until it was at a full headlong dash towards the line of caravans.
Sorry for the rambling, most of this post isn't important xD
Camping was one of Angeal’s favorite things to do as a child. It really made no sense, other than his thirst for adventure, considering he lived in the middle of nowhere town in a house that could barely be constituted as such. For whatever reason, though, he loved to grab his makeshift tent and walk the few dozen yards or so into the nearby wild trees and pretend he was a mountain man of sorts. Living off the land, sleeping under the stars, and most importantly to a boy of about age 8, not having to shower or do homework.
Of course, after one night, a growling stomach usually dragged him back home rather quickly. It was harder to survive on nothing but apples and berries than he’d originally thought.
The SOLDIER program expanded on the concept of camping, of course. Often in the field, Soldiers had no roofs over their head and nothing to eat other than terrible army rations and what they found themselves. Angeal Hewley had spent weeks counting stars to fall asleep at this point in his life, and while camping had lost its boyish charm, he found himself still rather enjoying it. The thrill of adventure, the sounds of creatures and insects in the wild, and the rare chance for some peace and quiet were quite enticing.
However, the Soldier mused to himself as he roasted a fish over his small fire, it was much more difficult to fall asleep in unfamiliar territory. Angeal’s blue eyes stared at the roasting fish, unfocused, as he thought over the same line of thinking that had been going through his head the last couple of weeks after waking up in the middle of a foreign city.
”Sonora? I’ve never heard of that city.” ”This can’t be right. Nothing on this map makes any sense.”
The map, that was the real wake up call and head scratcher. Thankfully, Angeal still had enough money stashed away on his person to be able to afford some simple supplies. As he’d browsed the little shack for the necessities, he’d come across a map of the region. Which looked like … gibberish. Like a map in one of Genesis’ fantasy novels. Confused, Angeal had turned to the man and asked if this map was real.
The shopkeep looked back at him like he was crazy. Well then.
Angeal glanced up over the fire to look at the nearby travelers, who (intelligently) were caravaning together. He had a strong urge to go and introduce himself to them, maybe join them for the time being, but something was holding him back. Something, lurking in the back of his mind, consistently turning his gut when people looked at him for too long. He avoided their eyes. It wasn’t like him --- he was typically quite friendly with strangers -- maybe it was just because he hadn’t been sleeping well? The unfamiliar territory and the strange nightmares he’d been having would do that to just about anyone.
The lonesome Soldier pulled his fish from the fire with a sigh, stabbing his makeshift spear into the ground to let the morsel cool off. He slid his gloved hand into his pocket, pulling out his PHS and giving a long, glowing eyed stare. Angeal kept it turned off most of the time, as it hadn’t had any service ever since he’d woken up. He thumbed over the keypad for a moment, contemplating trying yet again to see if he could reach anyone. To see if there was any sign of his old life out there. Genesis, Sephiroth, Zack … Were they here as well? They had to be, right? People didn’t just up and vanish and … and …
What? Land on another world? Yeah, right. I’m probably lying in a hospital bed in a coma.
Angeal slid the PHS back into his pocket with a low grumble, slowly lowering his back against the grass to stare at the sky. The soft blades tickled at his bare arms, much too soft to poke through his thick uniform. Next to him, the Buster Sword lay in the grass as well, as shining and pure as it should be. His other sword was stabbed into the dirt nearby, the little rucksack he’d been able to afford lying next to it. He didn’t have much to his name, hardly anything to trade, and only enough meager food to last another day or two. Maybe someone needed some work done, and he could make money that way, just like he had when he was younger.
However, before he could sink any further into his confusing thoughts, something dragged Angeal back into the present. A familiar noise -- the thumps and stomps of a chocobo. He furrowed his brow, laying still in the grass, before remembering that there was a man nearby who was renting chocobos out. As if he could afford that, and even if he could, his feet worked just fine -- besides, he was in no hurry to get to the next made up city.
But, soon there came a distressed squawk. Some apologizes and the confused shouts of surprised people.
He could feel the tracks.
Angeal sat up quickly, turning toward the source of the commotion. Two people on the ground and a man on the back of a black chocobo that was --- -- coming right at him.
“Shit!” The curse came out before he could even think to stop it as the Soldier clambered to his feet, hurrying forward to meet the Chocobo before it got to him. It had changed its path slightly, instead heading straight for the caravan and their fire, all the people sitting around it, but Angeal couldn’t let a runaway chocobo potentially injure itself or anyone else. He knew the creatures well, he’d helped look after a few in Banora growing up, and he knew exactly how to stop one running at full speed.
Chocobos will stop if there’s something big enough in their path. They won’t risk running into anything that could trip them up, because if they injure a leg, they’re dead in the wild.
And, thankfully, he was plenty big to intimidate a chocobo. It seemed like suicide to throw yourself in front of a renegade chocobo, but he’d had plenty of cadets in the past lose their chocobos thanks to their inexperience and nervous natures.
“Woah there!” Angeal shouted as the bird approached, throwing his arms into the air to make himself even more visible, “Easy, easy!”
The chocobo squawked in surprise, flapping its little wings and digging its talons into the ground. It didn’t stop immediately, but it slowed down enough for Angeal to grab at one of the reigns, pulling the bird’s head towards him as it slowed its pace, attempting to calm it with an easy, easy there girl, easy, it’s all right. He jogged alongside the chocobo and its rider for a moment, pulling the reign he had in one hand to keep the beast close until it felt natural to let it stop. The bird stilled, ruffling its feathers and cawing impatiently, apparently still ready to go at top speed at a moment’s notice.
With the creature’s reign still clutched in his hand, Angeal took his attention to the rider, “You alright up there?”
The man seated in the saddle was much … different looking than Angeal was expecting. Why he was expecting anything anymore inside this strange hallucination of his was beyond him, but the man riding the bird was wearing what appeared to be too many layers of clothing and a hat, somewhat ruffled; it kind of reminded him of what one of the actors in a LOVELESS production might wear. The Soldier bit back any offending comment he may have had, and hope his expression conveyed more concern than annoyance. It’s not like the man was purposefully going full speed ahead at a line of people and caravans … The bird was probably just spooked, that’s all.
How long can you swallow the pain? Before it comes round again, And a shadow in the valley will lead you to them, So don't follow.
As the chocobo barrelled towards its hapless victims, Ardyn was left with two choices. Should he warp off the beast in a trail of shadow? Reveal himself for the monster that he was and disappear into the forest never to be seen again? Or should he take the damage head on in a display of utmost disaster and indignity? Ardyn had very little time for a decision that, as it happened, he was spared from making. Instead, a brave bystander made it for him.
”Woh there!”
The chocobo reared back, shrieking its alarm as someone threw himself in front of them both. He was a mountain of a man -- dark hair, weighty sword, bulging shoulders -- and as Ardyn grasped desperately for the reigns to keep from losing balance, he felt a thrill of recognition. Now wasn’t this interesting? To come by him now, one of Noctis’-?
It wasn’t. As Ardyn found his grip, he saw his savior’s face more clearly. It was similar with its chiseled jaw and hardened eyes, but it the hair was more black than brunette, and he seemed somehow older. No, this was not the king’s shield. Instead, it was just another good samaritan looking to do well.
The man extended a hand. ”You alright up there?”
Ardyn looked between it and the chocobo before he chuckled under his breath, waving a hand of his own. ”Ah, now that was a pickle. I’d thought it was one of those skills one never forgot. A wrong saying, that.” He swung his leg over, half staggering as he lost balance on the remaining foothold came stumbling to the ground. ”Oh dear!” He came to a stop and straightened, dusting off his vest.
”I really must thank you. Had it not been for your aid, why, I shudder to think!” His eyes landed on his shoulder where four black downy feathers still clung to his collection of scarves. He swept them away.
Angeal lecturing villains is my new favorite activity
Well, at least the man on his out of control chocobo seemed in good spirits, despite the near disaster.
Angeal finally got a decent look at the rider rather than the chocobo as the man chuckled, waving off his ignorance about riding the bird. He seemed to be a bit older, though once anyone was in the age range of 25-40 Angeal found it impossible to tell their true age. However, his outfit seemed even stranger than the Soldier had previously given it credit for. It appeared aged, like it had been worn and washed time and time again. The man’s hair spilled out from underneath his hat, and though it was difficult to tell the color in the dark, Angeal would have guessed it some sort of red.
Then, the guy started to speak, and Angeal really had to try hard to stay stone faced. He didn’t offer the rider a hand as he stumbled down from the bird -- the man was clearly okay, hardly even shook up -- and he bit his tongue as the man dramatically thanked him for his efforts.
Even Genesis hardly spoke so … froo-froo, for all of his poetry quoting. Maybe it was just a difference in tone and gestures? Or maybe he was just far more used to his dear friend’s flavor of dramatics.
Angeal kept a hand on the chocobo’s reigns, giving the bird a pat on its beak as its rider collected himself, brushing away a few stray, black feathers. The Soldier watched them fall, a feeling of familiarity washing over him for just a moment. As if black feathers falling was something near and dear to him. Strange.
“Please, all I did was stop a chocobo,” Angeal waved away the term savior with a barely-there smile, “I’m Angeal. Maybe you should get a few refresher lessons on riding, sir.”
His comment was made in good humor, of course, but the Soldier did indeed hope that the dramatics were done. He offered the reigns back to the clumsy rider with a gloved hand, checking over his shoulder toward the people around the fire at the caravan. They seemed to be settled, despite the near disaster. They were back to quietly chatting and cooking over their fire and -- oh. Crud. His fish was probably cold.
How long can you swallow the pain? Before it comes round again, And a shadow in the valley will lead you to them, So don't follow.
“Please, all I did was stop a chocobo. I’m Angeal. Maybe you should get a few refresher lessons on riding, sir.” The man gave a strained smile and returned the bird’s reigns. Ardyn looked at them and then shook his head, laughing.
”I’ll likely request a refund on my purchase. I can’t say I’m particularly happy with the result. It’s been ages since I’ve had cause to ride one. You see, where I left there are these excellent vehicles called cars. My, the speed nearly astounded me! Magnificent things. I haven’t seen a reason to leave them yet!”
Ardyn gave a longing sigh. If only he had his brilliant red convertible -- striped and refurbished and upkept for decades. It had become his most cherished possession. Not that he’d taken much to possessions after his time in the darkness. He simply couldn’t get accustomed to the idea.
”But here…” Ardyn gave a vague wave of his hand. ”Well, I suppose the complacency has taken its toll. I’ll have to brush up on old times.”
Ah yes, the old times of thatch-roofed villages and dirt roads. In the fact of the overabundant world he’d emerged to, he did not find himself particularly nostalgic.
”But you seem to have managed fine. I’m sure I’ll reach it again.” Ardyn patted the chocobo on the neck. It did not seem particularly happy with the arrangement. Strange, considering its fondness earlier. Perhaps it had finally sensed his nature. A delayed response, but not an unwise one.
”I suppose I’ll be moving along. You have my thanks. Now then, where was that stable…?”
The inexperienced Chocobo rider gave an exasperated laugh as he took the reigns from Angeal's outstretched hand.
”I’ll likely request a refund on my purchase. I can’t say I’m particularly happy with the result. It’s been ages since I’ve had cause to ride one. You see, where I left there are these excellent vehicles called cars. My, the speed nearly astounded me! Magnificent things. I haven’t seen a reason to leave them yet!”
The Soldier rose his eyebrows at the man's sarcasm, but yet more at his mention of cars. Right, Angeal hadn't seen a real motorized vehicle since he'd left Sonora. Where they were currently was certainly backwater, as Zack would have put it. Most travel seemed to be done with chocobos or walking, and there wasn't much of an in-between that he'd found yet. When confronted with a vehicle, a chocobo really did look more dim and grim. Not that they didn't have their uses -- even ShinRa had trouble with some terrain -- but the birds had become outclassed and derelict.
"I understand the feeling," Angeal muttered honestly, placing his hands on his hips as he sympathized with the stranger. Traveling on foot, camping out in the wilderness, and eating nothing but what you caught or found was entertaining for the first few days, but Gaia knew he was craving some modern comforts.
A humored smirk found its way to the Soldier's lips as the chocobo-rider admitted to needing to settle back into the old way of doing things. He sounded like an old soul, a back in my day type. Angeal had no issues with such a thing, even he was known to complain in such a way despite his younger age. Even his mother told him he was an old man stuck in the body of a strapping young man.
He was right, Angeal had managed fine. But, that was all he'd done. Managed. He was no closer to finding any of the people he was searching for, nor finding any sense of normalcy in this world. The map of the continent was crinkled in his pocket, filled with notes about the paths and areas he'd traveled through; dotted with the names of creatures he'd somewhat recognized, outposts, landmarks ... Hopefully, it would be of some use to him later.
"I believe the stable is that way," he pointed in the direction the man had come flying in from, returning his casual farewell wave. That was that, he told himself as he turned away to let the stranger get back to his evening of, hopefully, no longer running over people. However, Angeal paused before taking another step. He could almost hear Genesis chiding him for the thoughts in his head.
I don't care if that man is traveling alone, his shoulder Genesis argued with his psyche, You should not be inviting him to join you, you know nothing about him.
Hewley sighed, sagging his shoulders.
Angeal, don't you dare, Angeal--!
The Soldier turned back around to see the man's retreating back. He called out over the distance, "Let me know if you need help with anything else, alright? I'm traveling alone myself. You're welcome to come join me if you need the company."
With the humble offer of kindness extended, Angeal turned back to his nearby fire, still smoldering with a speared, darkened fish nearby. He tucked a strand of hair back into place as he walked back over to his spot. If the stranger decided he needed some company, or a charred fish, he'd easily be able to find Angeal. There weren't many people in the area traveling with a giant sword on their back, after all. He set back by his fire, carefully placing the Buster Sword into the grass, before picking up his sad excuse for a fish and warming it back up over the top of the small flames.
How long can you swallow the pain? Before it comes round again, And a shadow in the valley will lead you to them, So don't follow.
The strange pointed him in the right direction, and Ardyn hummed, peering towards it. ”That way?” he asked, raising a hand to his eyes and squinting. Now that he mentioned it, he thought he saw glints of yellow in the darkness. Chocobo feathers, hopefully. He thought he’d have a stern talk with the stablehand before he left. Letting skitting birds loose with strangers, honestly.
Ardyn patted said bird on the side, something that she did not seem particularly thrilled over. ”There’s a good girl,” he said. He took the reins and started back towards the stable when the stranger called out to him. Odd. He could have sworn the man wanted nothing more to do with him.
Ardyn turned slowly, head tilted. ’Welcome to join?’ Ah, the man must have had quite the welcoming heart. Times like these almost gave Ardyn hope for humanity. Almost.
”Me?” Ardyn touched at his chest, eyebrows raised in surprise. ”Oh, but you mustn’t want that. I’d hate to be a bother.”
Still, the stranger didn’t rescind his offer. Ardyn looked after him as he left, head tilted in thought. ’If you need the company.’ Now wasn’t that a question? He hadn’t thought of himself as someone who needed company in quite some time. But did he want it?
Decisions, decisions.
”But if he’s offering…” Ardyn raised a finger, tracing it through the air. After a moment, he perked to attention, a slight smile at his lips. ”Oh, I wouldn’t want to be rude!” He hummed to himself and trailed after the man. He wouldn’t choose to travel with him. Certainly not when he’d manage much faster on his own, but if he’d offered the company…
Well, how lonely must the man have been? Ardyn felt sorry for him, truly.
The stranger sat at a quiet campfire, picking at what had once been the remains of a fish. Ardyn’s heart wrenched with pity. He didn’t even know how to use a campfire properly. Oh, the poor man.
”You left it a tad long, I think.” Ardyn fell onto a log beside him. He leaned back, one hand propping himself upright. ”But there’s no need for shame. It’s a simple mistake. I’m a tad out of touch myself, really.”
Footsteps softly parted the grass nearby, and Angeal only needed a passing, glowing-eyed glance to see that it was the stranger he’d offered some companionship to. He was honestly a bit surprised to see the man saunter back over to him, as most people seemed to want to keep to themselves in this world.
That, or they weren’t particularly interested in speaking to a man with a giant sword on his back.
”You left it a tad long, I think.”
Angeal raised a dark eyebrow, giving the man a curious look as he propped himself down on a log next to the fire. The poor fish was, indeed, beyond saving at this point, but he couldn’t really let it go to waste. Food was even more scarce now than it had been when he was growing up. He was no expert fisherman like his father had been, but the few he caught every other day were enough to keep him going. Not as much as he’d like, no thanks to his army-strengthened metabolism, but enough.
”But there’s no need for shame. It’s a simple mistake. I’m a tad out of touch myself, really.”
“Well, you know what they say,” Angeal mused as he pulled his fish away from the fire, pressing his fingers to the filleted sides to see how warm they were, “No good deed goes unpunished.”
The man’s brand of humor was nostalgic, as much as it poked fun at him. It reminded him of Genesis, who’s words were crafted so carefully to be harmless barbs -- enough to make him roll his eyes, but not actually designed to inflict any pain. The kind of humor that used to go over Sephiroth’s head when they all first became friends, as he took it all so literally.
His heart lurched.
Angeal cleared his throat, “Feel free to show me up though, chocobo jockey. There’s a couple of gutted fish in the net right behind you.”
The Soldier then picked at his fish, pulling off little bits here and there that weren’t particularly scarred by the fire. It was bland and filled his mouth with the aroma and taste of smoke more than anything else, but pulled up distinct memories of campfires by the sea and the harsh times at home with nothing but rough, tuber vegetables and whatever was biting.
Oh well. At least the chocobo-man constantly roasting him as thoroughly as he accidentally had this fish would keep him distracted.
How long can you swallow the pain? Before it comes round again, And a shadow in the valley will lead you to them, So don't follow.
”Well, you know what they say.” The man gave the fish a look that wasn’t quite dry and wasn’t quite amused. ”No good deed goes unpunished.”
”Oh indeed.” Ardyn let out a long sigh. ”It’s a wonder anyone bothers, really. It will only ever come back to haunt you.” Ardyn paused, thoughtful, before he offered the man a too-wide smile. ”Though I must thank you for the help. And to sacrifice a fish for it! Quite the gentleman, I’d say.”
He was, indeed, a man of honor, he thought. All stoic strength and good will! Men like that were easy to manipulate. Just one nicely placed opportunity for valor and they’d throw themselves into the fire! Not that Ardyn had any particular plans of deceit. Not tonight. Not yet.
Perhaps tomorrow. He’d grown quite bored as of late.
The swordsman changed the subject or at least redirected it a tad. Ardyn had missed the pile of fish beside them, and he let out a little ”Oh!” of delight as they took his notice. The man was hardy, it seemed, and quite skilled at survival in the wilderness. He could respect a man like that. He had once been one, after all.
”Of course! Now let me try…” He picked through the net and took one of the fish in a careful grasp. It was cold in his hands. Cold and slimy and rough with scales. Ardyn tilted his head. The thing looked back at him with dead eyes. Oh dear.
”It’s been a time since I’ve tried,” he said before he took the stick the man had used before him. He gave an uncertain smile. ”It must be like riding a bike. Though that is what I thought of the chocobo, I suppose. Oh, so many things I’ve forgotten! I’d dare say I’ve lost my touch.”
He looked around the campfire, not really sure of what he was looking for. A tool, he thought. Perhaps seeing it would give him some direction? After a moment, he shook his head. ”Why, I’ll just have to do it myself,” he said before holding out a hand and summoning a knife to it in a flash of red light. The old kingdom would have called versatile use of his god-given power blasphemous.
The word had a wonderful taste!
”Let’s see if I remember…” He took the knife to the fish, carefully paring from its skin. He hummed to himself.
”Now, if we’re to keep company, I’ll have to know something about you. You have a touch with chocobos, I see. And an affinity for swords.” His eyes glinted with amusement. ”I sense a story behind it.”
Angeal had thought he’d potentially made an unfortunate mistake the moment he’d opened his mouth and offered the strange man a spot by his campfire for the evening.
Now, after seeing the guy’s too-wide smile that was clearly nothing genuine or positive, he knew he’d messed up doing what he did best; being too kind to strangers. It’s not like he could help himself, really. He’d been raised to be kind, thoughtful, helpful, patient … But Gaia, did it get him into some of the most troublesome situations. And Genesis wasn’t here to bail him out by upsetting the guest to the point of leaving, despite Angeal’s half-hearted protests.
On the upside, the man seemed delighted by the chance to cook his own fish. The Soldier raised a dark eyebrow in amusement, tossing another piece of slightly-too-charred fish in his mouth to swallow down. The red-head hadn’t proved himself to be much of a chocobo jockey, but maybe he’d be better at roasting a fish over a fire. Hm, maybe he should have offered to filet the thing, first. The stranger’s eyes were practically alight by the campfire, as he thought his process through.
”It’s been a time since I’ve tried. It must be like riding a bike. Though that is what I thought of the chocobo, I suppose. Oh, so many things I’ve forgotten! I’d dare say I’ve lost my touch.”
Angeal gave the man a lopsided smirk, uncertain but friendly enough as he muttered, “Pretty forgetful, huh?”
The strange character searched about the area with his gaze, looking for something in particular he couldn’t seem to put words to. The Soldier watched on curiously, waiting for the man to voice his thoughts or ask a question, but one never came. Instead he exclaimed having to do things himself and --
-- Where the hell did that knife come from!?
Clenching his jaw in order to keep from exclaiming with surprise, Angeal stared down the man before him who had just magically brought forth a weapon out of thin air, eyes wide with unconcealed confusion. All he’d managed to see was a quick flash of red light, and then … there it was. The red-head was amusing himself by peeling scales from the fish with his knife, seemingly unaware of how he’d silently jolted his companion. Angeal quickly shook the surprise from his face, tearing what edible piece was left of his fish and quickly scarfing it down in order to keep his mouth busy.
The bones and too-burnt pieces were tossed in the fire.
”Now, if we’re to keep company, I’ll have to know something about you. You have a touch with chocobos, I see. And an affinity for swords. I sense a story behind it.”
Angeal glanced away from the fire and back to the stranger, his glowing eyes carefully studying the man. Something about him … moreso than just the knife he’d summoned out of thin air, felt strange. Like a plant blooming in the wrong season. Interesting, but wrong, a cause for concern. Angeal crossed one leg in front of himself, slinging one arm over the top of his knee as he held himself up with the other behind his back. In the distance he could hear the chocobos warking, presumably the one that had nearly bolted into a crowd among them.
“There’s not much to tell,” Angeal spoke honestly, of course, he didn’t much like thinking himself any better than anyone else in the world, “I was a poor, country kid with some lofty dreams of helping people. I chased after my best friend when he left town, and we joined the military together. Now I’m a Soldier who gets to help others.”
He paused, a thoughtful frown tugging down the corners of his mouth, “Or, I was. I don’t really know what I am now. Just another man, I guess.”
Dreams and honor still existed, in his heart. But purpose was hard to find, lost in a world with no friends, no family.
Eager to get the subject off of himself, Angeal quickly nodded toward the stranger after his small spiel, “I’d say you’ve got the more interesting story. You picked an odd time of day to try re-learning how to ride a Chocobo or scale a fish with a knife you manifested out of thin air. I haven’t gotten your name yet, either.”
How long can you swallow the pain? Before it comes round again, And a shadow in the valley will lead you to them, So don't follow.