TDM 003

[erkumods]

TDM 003: #BEACHBUMS

I. BEACH Welcome arrivals, new and old! The skies on Erku may be perpetually gray, but the weather has taken a sudden turn to summertime heat. Fortunately, soaring temperatures have chased away more of the strange fog that conceals so much of the island, unveiling a charming, sandy cove dotted here and there with rustic love shacks. These shabby little lean-tos are dusty and sparse, but they provide everything one (or two, wink wink) might need for a little relief from the sun. Just don’t wander too far... that fog has memory-loss properties. II. DRINKS The 'bots are very apologetic about the whole fog incident, and they are trying to get on the new arrivals' good sides by giving out fancy drinks. Of course, they still haven't mastered the art of making things properly, so each drink has a little something... extra. Geloso: Has a slightly bitter, yet refreshing herbal taste... and it will make you feel inexplicably envious of virtually anything, to a petty degree! Be it someone else’s shoes or their incredibly muscular physique, you’re jealous enough to tell them about it! Colpito: Fruity and sweet like candy. If you drink this, you will feel hopelessly infatuated with the very next person who catches your eye! Vivace: Delightfully tart, with a flavor somewhere between citrus and raspberry. This summery drink will fill you with bubbly energy. Whether you’re feeling flirty or just mischievous and playful, you’ve never felt more alive! Verace: Creamy, earthy, and a little nutty - the flavor is hard to describe, but delicious. After drinking this, you’ll feel strangely compelled to spill something you’ve been keeping a secret, no matter how incriminating or embarrassing. Conoscere: The robots are especially excited about this flavor! They’ve heard organic beings enjoy chocolate, and hope you like their first attempt (it’s a little bitter, but it is chocolatey). Those who drink this will feel incredibly confident and sensual. Better yet, if you share it with a partner - which the 'bots encourage you to do - you’ll find that every touch is enhanced, and every sensation is shared between the two of you. A lucky few may even be able to sense one another’s thoughts! III. SNACKS Lo! As you ask, the Augur shall provide. Thanks to the efforts of your organic predecessors in restoring the planet’s Eros energy, edible fishes and seaweeds have returned to the ponds and the shores of Erku. If you fancy yourself savvy to basic survival skills, why not fashion up a fishing rod and catch yourself dinner? Just be careful if you happen to hook one of the octopus creatures from the deeper waters - they can be quite forward with their tentacles! Or, if primitive angling isn’t in your repertoire, you can always trade some credits for a tasty catch from one of the food stalls along the coast. Most stalls are manned by 'bots, but there’s nothing stopping an enterprising arrival from setting up shop. No credits? No problem! The robots have also provided a bit of entertainment, and any volunteers to man the kissing booth, get dunked in the wet t-shirt dunk tank, or grill up some fish - among other opportunities - will find credits automatically loaded onto the payment app of their bracelet devices. The 'bots are recruiting especially hard for participants to work in the gloryhole tent! IV. SPARKLES As dusk descends, the white sands of the beach suddenly come alive with glittering lights. It’s as if the darkened waters have carried a thousand shining stars from the depths of the sea to the shores of the cove. In actuality, each little twinkle is a bioluminescent plankton or jellyfish! Feel free to wade among them and admire their shine; even the sting of the jellies won’t hurt you... though they do pack a different punch. The tentacles of the jellyfish elicit a powerful aphrodisiac response, which gets the heart racing and the blood pumping for an intimate touch. The effects come on within a matter of minutes, and last for a few hours. Only time will relieve the symptoms, but a partner will help to make it more bearable. ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● N A V I G A T I O N

Comments

Yazoo • FFVII: Advent Children

[velvetshot]

drinks.

( The temperature is going to become a problem. Yazoo's armour wasn't designed with sunshine and sand in mind: the high collared, ankle-skimming leather is a heat absorbing black, and he can already feel warmth settling at the high points on his cheeks as he skirts the sun in the man-made shade. Perhaps it's just as well that he's so preoccupied with keeping cool; Yazoo has no idea how his skin will respond to such prolonged exposure to sunlight, and he's fair enough that he runs a real risk of burning himself.

It won't be pretty.

Fortunately, complimentary drinks are handed out before Yazoo can become too uncomfortable. The part of him that would usually react with suspicion is quickly overridden by a sudden, desperate thirst, and he wordlessly reaches out to take one of the proffered concoctions. )

i. geloso

( It happens almost instantly. Yazoo swallows the botanical mouthful and immediately catches sight of someone dressed in far less then him, their legs and arms bared to the sun and the scant traces of the sea breeze. His usually neutral expression sours around the edges: his brows pinch into a frown, and his lips thin as he looks the person up and down. )

That isn't fair.

( He says quietly, although his tone is sharp enough to cut. )

You could at least be considerate of those of us who don't feel comfortable in so little.

ii. vivace

( Yazoo had expected a tingle of refreshment, perhaps, but the first sip of his drink races through his core like a crackle of Mako energy. For all the heat pulling at his limbs he feels somehow energised—he's ready to move—as his mood lifts to the kind of spirited heights he feels in the midst of battle. Green eyes slide over the people around him in search of a suitable plaything ...

But his gaze doesn't get much further than the nearest person, and their drink. Yazoo tilts his head, unblinking, as a feline smile touches the corners of his lips: )

Yours looks nice.

( His smile melts into a smirk. )

Will you let me try it?

iii. conoscere

( The drink is bitter, but not unpleasantly so. Yazoo turns the flavour over on his tongue as the aftertaste of chocolate finally melts into the flavour, only dimly aware that it seems to be warming him from the inside out. He feels better, to the point where he's certain that other people must see it too, and when he unintentionally catches the gaze of a person heading towards the free drinks ...

Well. Why not have a little fun?

This is the first time he can recall feeling desirable to another. Yazoo holds their gaze as he brings his gloved middle finger to the plush of his lips, catching the tip of the leather between his teeth as dark lashes dip lower over his eyes. Then, slowly, he tilts his head and pulls his hand free of the sheath, which he pockets with an easy smirk as he switches his glass to his now bare hand.

Believe it or not, this is Yazoo showing a lot of skin. )

Do you see something you like?

snacks.

( Fishing, it turns out, is a lot more frustrating than it looks.

It had seemed like the most sensible course of action when given the options of how to earn something to eat; Yazoo is still unsure as to what a glory-hole might be, but he does know that he isn't all that interested in finding out. Kissing, getting wet, or trying his hand at cooking ... nothing appealed, but the idea of a little peace and quiet away from the hubbub? That, he could get his head around.

... Or so he'd thought. After an unsuccessful half hour in which he's managed to catch absolutely nothing at all, the shallow puddle of his patience has finally dried up. He rises abruptly, ignoring the odd looks he gets from the people set up around him, and simply walks away from the line without giving it so much as a second thought. He cuts a strange figure as he heads back towards the food stalls, the scent of grilled, seasoned fish upping the pangs in his stomach from bearable to a deep, gnawing pain. Someone walks past with a filled plate and Yazoo all but feels his pupils blow wide at the sight of the food: )

Wait.

( Yes, he's talking to you! Those strange eyes rest on the food before flitting up towards the passer-by's face. )

Can I have that?

sparkles.

( Dusk brings with it a cloak of darkness that paints the beach in deepening shades of indigo. Yazoo is grateful for the breeze that rolls in from the sea to cool the sun-scorched sands; it's been a very long, very strange day, shot through with moments of excessive confusion, but as the sun slinks beneath the horizon he is at least alleviated of the weight of the heat. It gives him the space he needs to breathe, and to sift through the muddle of his thoughts—but then something happens that he never could have predicted. Daylight fades, and the sea begins to glow.

It plucks at something buried deep within the dark parts of his memory—a fragment unintentionally left there by the man who created him. The overall effect is one of familiarity, both soothing and enraging, and for a moment he finds himself remembering a vast, glittering sea that bore a greenish hue instead.

No. Not the sea. The Lifestream.

The absence of his brothers, of Mother, becomes a great ache. Yazoo drifts towards waves like a man hypnotised under some spell, his already bright eyes a brilliant green as they fill with light from the water. He's hip deep in his leathers but doesn't seem particularly fazed by the soaked-through material, nor by the brush of translucent fronds against the bare skin of his hands as he lets them dip below the surface.

... Just water. Water, and a gently blooming heat that begins to simmer beneath his skin. )

wildcard.

( Or hit him with something else! Just a heads-up that Yazoo is physically around 19 but is technically 2 years old, as he's a physical manifestation of some nobody in his late 20s' personality. OTA for gen, characters 18+ for a little spice, and if you'd like to plot something / have any questions please hit me up on Plurk at scry! )

I. geloso

[poopio]

[ ...Did he do something wrong? Oh, the man does appear a tad over-dressed for the weather, but he didn't think it was too difficult to find a swimsuit here. Many others appear to be dressed down all the same, though Lucio had mostly arrived in this land beach-ready, having been in the midst of something of a crew vacation in his own world when he had been spirited away.

Either way, he would rather not let things escalate further, so he raises his hands in what he hopes is a placating gesture. ]

Please forgive me. I had only arrived in what I had been wearing prior. If you would prefer we exchange clothing, I would not be adverse to the idea.

[ Thankfully, they are not radically different in height nor build, so it should be an easy enough transition. That and Lucio is less hampered by heat and other such conditions that would normally cause a mortal body to deteriorate. ]

[velvetshot]

( Every fibre of Yazoo's being tells him to reject what the man is offering. Why would he strip out of his leathers? The loose attire doesn't look like it will afford protection from the sun, let alone a barrage of sword or projectile attacks, and for all this seems more like a beachside cookout than a battlefield? Yazoo isn't about to let himself be caught unawares. )

... What you had been wearing prior.

( Yazoo sips his drink as he considers him, those bright eyes giving him a brief once-over that lingers at his bare chest. Perhaps he's simply an impractical person? )

How convenient.

( But not as convenient as the man's generosity. A cruel idea takes root in the back of his mind, watered and nurtured by fingers green with envy, because what better way to exorcise those twisting feelings than a little easy humiliation? It's probably what Kadaj would suggest, after all, and the thought of pleasing his brother bolsters him that bit further. Silver hair spills over one shoulder as he tilting his head in acquiescence: )

Fine. Where can we change?

( You about to get your clothes stolen, Lucio! )

[poopio]

[ Oblivious to the man's intentions, he motions over to the public restrooms. Really, he could just swap clothes without having to lift a finger, but he is trying to keep a low presence and blend in here while he gathers information about their new surroundings. That means doing things the long and conventional way. ]

I hope you will not mind the holes in the back of the shirt. I had to cut them out so as not to damage my wings.

[ But considering the man complained of being hot, the extra ventilation might be useful to him. He walks into the first stall and removes everything, making sure to purify the fabric so it smells freshly laundered and pleasant when he hands it over to the man. ]

Shall we arrange a meeting time and place to later exchange our clothing once again? I doubt you wish to lose track of your ensemble.

[ It does seem as though he has an entire eclectic look going for him. Lucio would hate to deprive him of it for too long. ]

[velvetshot]

( Yazoo waits patiently in the stall next to Lucio's as the other man works his way out of his clothing. He'd been wondering about those wings—they look small and plump, hardly suitable for flight—and exhales softly through his nose as the apology for the holes drifts over the top of their shared wall. )

That won't be a problem.

( He says truthfully, although Lucio couldn't know that it's because he has no intention of wearing the shirt in the first place. He takes the bundle when it's passed over and holds it between his hands for a moment: )

Thank you. I'll just be a moment.

( Before simply stepping out of the stall and heading back out of the restrooms. To his credit, he doesn't dump the clothes in the first waste-bin that he passes, but rather he keeps hold of them out of sheer jealous spite as he crosses the sand.

Maybe, if he has enough time, he'll manage to make it to the sea ... )

drinks — vivace

[probatum]

( despite the silent, desperate prayers to things he knows he doesn't quite believe in, there's not enough good humor left in the universe to ensure that the sour look he wears, the mask of boredom painted across his face, is enough to keep everyone at a distance. rather, it seems that a pair of vaguely familiar green eyes, piercing in a way he doesn't like, land on him as soon as the chirpy robot plants a glass down in front of him and adorns it neatly with a colorful straw. his fingers grasp it immediately, sliding the plastic until it dips and bends in his own direction, though he can't quite will it to his lips yet.

something still just feels wrong, like he should know better than to ignore the way the man attached to those eyes bats words at him, cheerful and pointed, and the suspicious, faint glance he slides in the stranger's direction is enough to put him in a state of unease. it all feels familiar and not familiar at all, and maybe it's the flicker of feline in that smile, the swift curve of his lips, or maybe it's the way those eyes feel all too akin to someone who he would rather never make eye contact with again. )

You do realize you could simply get your own.

( wryly, as he drags the straw to his lips, closes them around it to speak, muffled. )

I don't do well with sharing.

[velvetshot]

( Truthfully? It takes Yazoo a second to recognise him, but then he'd never expected to end up with this particular man at what appears to be a beachside party. He watches Tseng for a beat, waiting for the Turk to call for his underlings or pull out a weapon, but when the moment never comes he feels his initial recognition give way to curiosity. )

Oh?

( This could be interesting—and he's definitely feeling inclined to have a little fun. Yazoo drifts closer, his gaze dropping to the straw as the man places it between his lips, before tilting his head just so as he finds dark eyes with his own again. What was that he was thinking? That green eyes with slit pupils remind him of the good times, and he wishes he could get lost in them? )

Perhaps you simply haven't found the right person to share with.

( Besides, there's also the slim chance that the Turk has more information as to his brothers' whereabouts, or might even give up what he knows about Mother with the right kind of persuasion. )

... Yet.

[probatum]

( the straw starts and stops, pressed to his lips, and he can't quite draw a sip in, not when this person is sliding closer to him like he belongs there--like he can't quite understand the plain social cues, dictating those few seats between them remain open for the sake of personal distance. it's not the first time he's dealt with someone like this, but that doesn't mean he really enjoys it: so his drink remains abandoned, the colorful plastic dropped from his lips so that he can sit up again, shoulders squared, and swing his gaze back to those peculiar eyes with a pointed sigh.

normally, that would be enough to earn him a bit of distance: the stare of no-nonsense, irritation gleaming behind a mask of boredom. but he's not that lucky--and he's not entirely keen on the way those pupils slit and narrow, something that almost makes him want to shiver beneath the hot, heated weight of his clothes. it's ridiculous, surely, but the long silver hair and alien gaze makes him feel like this is some strange, mutated version of that person, and he'd rather get them out of his vicinity as quickly as possible. )

So that makes you the right person? ( pride is the only crutch left, and what does it matter? he folds his palm around the glass and pushes it, pointedly, across the damp counter; it skids some, but ends up near the far end of the stranger's shoulder, where hopefully he might shift away in order to partake of it. )

You first, then. Be my guest.

[velvetshot]

I could be.

( But he isn't, although Yazoo doesn't let his expression expose as much. Instead, he catches the drink skidding towards him with perhaps too deft a gesture, before lifting it to his lips and swallowing a long sip. It isn't bad—Yazoo suspects that none of the robots' concoctions will be truly unpalatable—but for all he wants to play, he prefers his own, and what distance Tseng bought in sliding his drink down the bar is eaten back up when he leans close again. )

... It was fine.

( He taps his fingertip against the side of the glass just the once, then lets his hand fall away so that he can present his own to the Turk. )

Would you like to taste mine?

( The pink concoction seems to shimmer in the light, and Yazoo's smile becomes playful as he watches Tseng with those wide, unblinking eyes. )

You won't regret it.

sparkles

[supersoldier]

[Sephiroth doesn’t yet intimately know the weft and weave of the Lifestream, the churning lattice of amalgamated life thrumming through the Planet, its pulsing veins. He has not yet found himself pinned beneath those pressurizing waves that would break apart memory and consciousness, leaving only a crystallized core of willpower to survive — fragmented and baleful thing it would be.

He only knows the inside of one of Shinra’s reactors, its guts made of bastardized steel and long, stretching walkways, scented with the ozone-sweet tang of mako undulating below. His experiences are therefore only clinical, observational, where the Planet’s lifeblood is concerned. But even in those moments of unremarkable memory, he does recall looking down at the glowing green churning beneath his feet, and thinking that it looked like the waves of the sea.

Now, faced with the stretch of an indigo ocean gleaming in the dusklight, Sephiroth draws a similar parallel in his mind. Perhaps it’s fitting, or unsurprising, that his thoughts would align so closely to the figure waist-deep in the lit ocean, who looks to be dipping his hands through the surface as though to cup that shine in his hands. The light reflects off of too-familiar silver hair, trailing down a too-similar frame of drenched, black leather — and such a sight is unfathomable enough to pause, his boots sinking into the sand.

It’s like seeing a shade of himself at a distance, something hazy and incomplete. He wonders, briefly, if it’s just an illusion that could be swept away beneath the waves, disappearing in his next breath.

But as though to verify the man’s existence, to throw him into the far less flattering scope of solid reality, Sephiroth calls out. His voice cuts across the distance.]

Don’t be careless.

[On this island, innocent curiosities could often lead to something more, something unwanted.]

[velvetshot]

( The warmth pooling low in Yazoo's belly shifts to an irresistible pull. It's strange—only a moment ago he'd been pushing aside the disappointment of feeling nothing more than water against his hands, but as that curling warmth seeps into his veins he can't help but feel as though something is shifting back into place. It feels ... familiar, like coming together with his brothers again, and Yazoo is on the verge of taking his nostalgia back to the shore when a smooth baritone cuts through the quiet.

He stills. Yazoo has never heard him speak before, but all of a sudden he simply knows.

Sephiroth.

The water ripples around him as he turns, black leather dragging around him as though intend on prolonging the moment for as long as possible. Who would have known that being in his presence would feel as good as this: like melting heat, bolstered by his relentless need for Reunion. Mako-green meets mako-green as Yazoo holds his gaze for a long moment, soft wisps of silver caught on the air as the sea breeze rolls over him once more. )

I'm never careless.

( He moves forwards slowly, each step lifting him further out of the water and onto the firm sand. It doesn't occur to him that there might be something other than the magnetism of their cells at play; why would it, when this is so much more than he could have hoped for anyway? )

... Brother.

( Yazoo sighs, relishing the word as he lets himself soak up Sephiroth's presence. He's—happy, he realises, and it shows on the curve of his lips, which spread into what may very well be his first experience of a genuine smile. Maybe everything is unfolding as it should after all, which is likely what encourages him to move in close and slip his arms around the other man's waist. Their cellular connection is immediate: Yazoo's very essence seems to reach out in an attempt twine with Sephiroth's, and he rests his cheek against his expression turns blissful. )

Mother will be pleased.

( His voice is soft against Sephiroth's throat. )

Are you here to take me to her?

[supersoldier]

[The moment the stranger turns, he is struck.

It is unlike anything he’s felt before. Even his strange, invisible thread of a connection he feels with Cloud, with Zack, pales in comparison to this. A magnetic buzz down to the cellular level, the atmosphere suddenly charged in the space between them, it is not so much a thread than it is connective tissue, like meets like — intimate, foreign, and striking.

Sephiroth is not a man to be rendered speechless, but as the other moves towards him, leaving a trail of dappled light and darkly-wet leathers in his wake, he finds he cannot quite parse what he sees, nor what he feels. He cannot shake the sense that a part of him had gone missing without his notice, and now, in the shape of this silver-haired man with his eyes, it is soon returning to reunite.

Brother, he calls him, and it’s only then he’s jarred back to reality, the world snapping into place.]

What are you talking about?

[Were he not arrested by that surreal feeling moments before, this man would not have managed to come so close to slip his arms around his waist, or press his cheek so near that he can feel his breath fan across his throat. The instinct of an introvert punches through all else, and gloved hands clench down across Yazoo’s forearms, tight and commanding. He pulls them away, an attempt to break the impulsive contact.]

Who are you?

[Talk of a brother, and more upending, a mother. He cannot simply accept that without question, not even if he looks too much like him. Especially because of it. He is not fully convinced this isn’t another oddity of this wretched island.]

[velvetshot]

( Sephiroth's reaction is ...

Well. It's unexpected, to say the least. Yazoo doesn't quite realise what's happening until there's a tight grip around his arms pushing him away, which staggers him back just enough to leave him blinking slowly up at his maker. Who are you? A drop of ice plunks into the pit of his stomach, and Yazoo's expression softens with confusion as his brows pull together into a frown. )

... Is this a game?

( It must be. The Remnants had expected Cloud to have some difficulty coming to terms with their relationship, but Sephiroth? Mother's greatest success? Surely this must be some kind of test—and it isn't one that he plans on failing. The puzzlement smooths from Yazoo's expression as he tilts his head just so, his pupils dark and wide with a need he can't quite place as he looks up at the other man. )

I need to know the rules before I can play.

( Even with Kadaj, there were always rules. )

snacks.

[silverhound]

No.

[ The stern decline comes far too easily for Loz. Even though they're brothers, Loz isn't inclined to share. After all, this is his fish! If Yazoo wants one, he can go get one, right? Besides, it's not like Loz had the credits to buy one. Heck no! That would require him to touch someone and he's not about that life, or so he claims.

Lack of credits aside, Loz managed to steal this delectable morsel thanks to his inhuman speed. He literally just snatched it from the vendor when they weren't looking. Despite being a big dumb idiot, he's crafty as sin. ]

Go get your own.

[ He grumbles rudely before taking a hefty bite. Yeah, it's as good as it looks. ]

[velvetshot]

( Yazoo's brows pull into a frown. )

I tried.

( Which is true, he did, he just wasn't very successful. He also doesn't have the patience for Loz's poor attitude right now, and he clutches tight at the other man's wrist as he takes a succulent-looking bite. His stomach growls somewhere beneath him, and his lips press into a thin line before softening into a pout. )

... Brother. Please.

( But with Loz, Yazoo feels a little honey might go along way. He forces himself to ignore the icy irritation settling beneath his skin in favour of maintaining a calm expression: )

Will you truly not share it with me? I will repay you.

( With a smack across the head from his Velvet Nightmare, most likely, but that's for the future to determine. )

[silverhound]

[Just when Loz was about to take another juicy bite, Yazoo stops him and starts whining. Despite Los being the supposed "baby" of the group, Yazoo is good at pouting. He's virtually immune to such antics but something about that miserable expression tugs at him.

So with a frustrated sigh, Loz offers one of the grilled fish.]

Repay me with what? More whining?

[He grumbles before nibbling on the rest of his fish. Truth be told, he's going to see about stealing another one. Grilled fish is too good to pass up.]

[velvetshot]

( Yazoo drops the act the moment Loz gives up the fish. He holds it between his finger and thumb before reaching over to palm a fresh paper plate from one of the stacks, then sucks a smear of flavourful juice from the side of his hand as he lifts cool eyes back to his brother's. )

No. With a lesson in getting what you want from the idiots around you.

( Said calmly, as he takes a bite of his own fish. Perhaps the most irritating part of their reunion is that he'd still rather be with Loz than be without him, for all he seems intent on acting as though he'd prefer not to have Yazoo's company at all. He chews slowly, his eyes never leaving the other Remnant as he enjoys the fresh burst of flavour. )

... Where is Kadaj?

( Because surely if they're here, then it stands to reason that Kadaj will have shown up too? )

sparkles

[noncertus]

[Today has been the first time he's felt sunshine on his face since he woke up in that strange hospital ward to machines telling him there was a function he and the others needed to fulfill. With few exceptions, the skies were constantly overcast, thick with clouds that broke only for periods of terrific thunderstorms and pounding rain or memory-scrubbing fog thick enough to cut with a blade.

The change completely transforms the beach and sunset, Cloud finds, is resplendent with color, it reminds him of travel advertisements for Costa del Sol peeling on the walls of small noodle stands and watering holes, mixed in with faded posters of Shinra propaganda and winking pin-ups.

Plenty of other things need doing right now, walking along the shore as night falls isn't checking anything off that ever-lengthening list of stuff Cloud needs to address sooner or later. He's wasted enough time, now he'll have to make the trip back to the city in the dark--

He doesn't see it happen, but he hears someone call out further down the beach and looks. One moment later, he turns his head and finds the waters closest to the shore have started to shimmer and glow. Storms usually turned the sea dark and treacherous before, pregnant with dangers like riptides.

It didn't breathe an ethereal illumination through the calm swells that softly slap the sand, nothing does, except-

Cloud presses the heel of his hand into his brow at the scratchy fissure of wrong fighting through his skull, something pressing up against a memory or a dream, leaving his throat tight with nausea. It clears and with it his head, but he finds the water splashing against his knees without remembering ever descending into the surf.

There's a man in dark clothing straight ahead of him, his silver hair spilling long down the middle of his back. His step backward is loud, a slosh against the slap of a wave, an arm pinwheels out briefly before his soaked boot getting sucked into the sand can topple his balance.

It's not him. He's too slender, too slight.

Chances are good Cloud has cost himself an opportunity to retreat unnoticed anyway.]

I'm sorry about Yazoo 8')

[velvetshot]

( Yazoo feels him before he sees him.

Even without the stuck boot and the slosh of water, slinking away unnoticed isn't an option when the frisson of energy between them has already alerted the Remnant. He turns his head, his profile illuminated by the gentle ebb and flow of the water, and lets silence stretch between them for a moment before letting his body follow. Is it possible that he'll harbour resentment for the way they'd played with him outside of Edge? Perhaps, but right now Yazoo feels nothing but burgeoning warmth for the other man.

He'd like to show him as much. )

Brother ...

( The barest hint of a smirk touches the corners of Yazoo's lips as he moves out of the water. The sea pulls at him, and little pinpricks of light drag against his leathers, but he ignores the brush of tentacles and other detritus as he rises from the glowing foam. )

I'm glad to see you.

( And he is. Yazoo can feel Mother's cells in him too—their connection is irrefutable—and they thrum through every fibre of his being as he closes the distance between them. Cloud looks ... different, he thinks, to how he remembers him from their previous fight, but it hardly seems to matter in that moment. All he wants is to be close to him again, which is evident in the way he decides to ignore the idea of personal space and reach for both of Cloud's hands with his own. )

Now we can search for Mother together.

( Dark lashes dip low as, unbeknownst to him, the aphrodisiac begins to tingle into his extremities. )

... You're glad to see me too, aren't you?

I knew what I was getting into!

[noncertus]

[The first time Cloud encountered Sephiroth on this world, he hadn't known he'd been wandering in an ever-tightening orbit around the almost kismetic pull in his cells. That their reunion was inevitable. He still doesn't know that it's there, like a compass always points north, a latent magnetism that would make it easy to coincidentally cross paths again. At least next time, Cloud won't be so swept up in his fear and fury to draw a blade against someone who hadn't yet lost his mind, who hadn't yet changed a mere infantryman's life forever.

Is it the same magnetic draw humming in Cloud's very cells that brought him to a Remnant of another Sephiroth years into an unknown future, the way it had been for another Sephiroth from years into Cloud's past? Cloud doesn't know. He can't know, he hasn't lived it yet, those battles and the influence Vincent warned that Sephiroth can exert over him.

The figure turns and Cloud is instantly shaken by the uncanny resemblance. It's not just the long cascade of silver, the darkness he clads himself in, it's the eyes, alien and striking. Sephiroth and this man could easily be mistaken for, if not brothers, then relatives of a kind-

Brother.

Cloud is a few years younger than the one who faced Yazoo and the other two Remnants in the future, the absence of recognition, the confused frown and the jerk backwards when Yazoo reaches for him, he doesn't know who he is, and the sand sucking on his boot turns his pivot away into a stagger, dropping onto his seat in the surf. He scrambles back, struggling now with dislodging his boot from the sand and fighting the weight of the Buster Sword at his back carving a furrow in the sand below the waves. The glowing life teeming in the surf crowds around the exposed meat of his biceps, casting him in their ethereal glow.

Stuck in a pratfall is not how he wanted to deliver a back off but this is what he's got.]

The hell? I'm not your brother.

time to fish, yo!

[aeroll]

[ fishing ain't that bad.

—or at least it ain't if speed is the name of your game, which in this particular redhead's case is definitely his. it's great that somebody fucked a better food rationing system into place (every thursday at the hospital!) and a meat processing facility, but he's learned to take advantage of every opportunity to provide. it isn't his own mouth he's gotta feed now. both the boss and rude are here. (he's a little more concerned about the former than the latter 'cause of that whole expression with the silver spoon in the mouth.)

the fuckin' heat gives him the perfect excuse to be near a body of water too. since he can't afford to get his clothes wet, he is down to his dress shirt — unbuttoned all the way with sleeves rolled up — and a pair of black boxer briefs. he's quite the sight standing in the middle of a pond, swiping up fish with his bare hands and shoving 'em into a bucket.

but at least he ain't too wrapped up in his own fishing to notice the silver-haired guy who's entered the scene a couple of feet away. is he trying to fish too? ]

You're gonna have to come in if you wanna catch anything.

[velvetshot]

( Yazoo watches, his gaze unblinking, as the man standing in the pond snatches up his fish one by one. He'd recognise that ribbon of red hair anywhere: although they're yet to meet personally he knows this is another of Shinra's Turks, perhaps not as important as the one with dark hair, but nevertheless someone who could prove himself useful in due course. He tilts his head as he considers what might be the most appropriate plan of action—

But then he's being spoken to, and his window of opportunity begins to close. )

I'll also have to be a quick as you.

( He points out softly, as he moves to the edge of the water. Those strange eyes linger on the man's thighs and skim over his chest as he swipes up another fish, before flitting back towards the bucket where he's tossing his catches. )

I imagine all I'll achieve is getting wet.

( A beat. )

... But you seem to have have more than enough for yourself. Can I have one of those?

[aeroll]

[ he seems hesitant to get in the water, doesn't he? ]

Sure, [ he offers a light shrug of his shoulder as he glances into his bucket. ] I can give ya one. [ it's no sweat off his back. he has more than enough right now. ] But [ yea, there's always a catch with this one. ] you gotta come in here and try it out for yourself first.

[ he makes a gesture at the pond. ]

You're gonna have to learn how to do it if you wanna eat free fish. [ he wags his finger at him. ] Otherwise, you're gonna have to rely on the good graces of those fucking robots and their rationing system. [ he tilts his head at him slightly, one brow arching. ] 'less you're that scared of gettin' a little wet.

[ AKA don't be a fuckin' pansy. ]

drinks iii with a hideous twist because we die tomorrow

[schwarzen]

[ Siegfried was an intelligent man. A cautious man. But at the end of the day he was simply that, a man. As someone arriving here with absolutely no resources, and perhaps most importantly, no method of purifying seawater, he eventually gives in to trying one of the drinks. Colpito, his is called, and at first taste, it is so sickeningly sweet that Siegfried very nearly sends it back.

But it grows on him, though by the time he's decided he doesn't mind it so much, the drink is set to the side, forgotten in favor of something— nay, someone much more interesting.

Has he ever seen eyes so brilliantly green, hair so lustrous like crafted silver? He watches the man's every movement, quiet and calm, not at all betraying the way his heart beats faster when their eyes meet.

He isn't versed in flirtation, so he can only answer honestly, and his tone is as if he's saying nothing out of the ordinary, but he does bridge some distance between them. ]

I've traveled to many lands and encountered many beasts in my life. Yet, I don't believe I've ever seen a creature as magnificent as you.

[ Tomorrow? He will be angry at whatever is controlling his mind and actions like this. Today? there's not an inkling of apprehension to be found. ]

I don't suppose you could give me your name.

Charges into this

[velvetshot]

( Siegfried may not be versed in flirting, but Yazoo can't honestly say he's particularly disappointed in being called a magnificent creature. In truth he wishes more people could understand him in such terms: not because he has any particular understanding of how he looks to other people, but because in his mind it indicates a modicum of openness to what Mother has to offer. After all, Yazoo is the Remnant who holds the greatest likeness to Sephiroth, who represents a level of perfection of which all others can only hope to dream.

In short? He'll take it.

Yazoo tilts his head, his pleasure evident in the way the corners of his lips quirk up into a shadow of a smile, and he indulges in another sip of his drink before speaking up again. )

I could.

( He touches the pad of his index finger to his lips, considering. flirtation isn't something with which he's familiar—not practically, anyway—but toying with his quarry is something that's always came naturally to Yazoo. He likes the way his man's eyes feel on him, in the same way that he likes the reverence in his gaze, and he pulls that heavy fall of silver over one shoulder as he gives him a once-over from head to toe. )

... But I'd like yours first.