herradurra1

To Me You Are The Sea ~~~~~ What am I to you? Tell me darlin' true To me you are the sea Vast as you can be And deep the shade of blue When you're feelin' low To whom else do you go? I'd cry if you hurt I'd give you my last shirt Because I love you so--Norah Jones, What Am I To You ~~~~~ Rude was a simple man. Not in the way of unintelligent, or slow. It was just that, if there was a path from A to B, he saw no sense in diverting to C without a justifiable reason. It made him a good Turk, and a better fighter. Best not to overcomplicate things, after all. Then he fell in love with Vincent Valentine, and the whole plan was tossed in the s

And I could have done so many things, baby If I could only stop my mind from wonderin' what I left behind and from worrying 'bout this wasted time--Eagles, Wasted Time ~~~~~ They sat in the small, green area behind Seventh Heaven. It was too small a place to really be useful for anything but sitting and brooding, which suited the two friends just fine. After some time, Vincent finally spoke. “I’m sorry.” Rude sniffed at his beer and avoided looking at his friend. He was silent long enough to be an answer. Vincent, hearing what was not said, replied softly, “About…yeah…Tifa.” Rude shrugged. “

There's a lesson in the rain, that change will always come let us ride this wave and then greet the sun and though the ground may shake and we’ll think we’ve had enough we must raise our flags for the ones we love.--Peter Bradley Adams, Keep Us ~~~~~ Vincent’s first thought when Reno walked into his office with red, swollen eyes and carrying a storage box was Oh gods it finally happened and I wasn’t there to stop it. But then Reno sneezed and his horror turned to annoyance. “Dissue?” the redhead mumbled. He went to the bathroom and brought out a wad of toilet paper. He wasn’t about to share his lo

1. What does their bedroom look like? Sort of plain, but with a stack of technical manual and schematics on the nightstand that is so high and messy that it will likely fall over and kill him in his sleep one night. 2.  Do they have any daily rituals? Gets up early. Cooks a big breakfast with enough leftovers that anyone from the airfield or random friends will have something to eat. Goes in the office with the leftover pot of tea and answers all the email, works through the invoices, calls everyone to make sure everything is okay, no one needs anything. Calls Vincent and gets a “Damn it Cid I’m still asleep I’ll call back

“I hate this.” Reeve nodded, not even able to work up a scolding for his head of security’s early morning whine. Vincent was right. Hiring a secretary was a pain, especially in a business as...unorthodox as their own. The first, an earnest young business school graduate in polished little shoes, had fled at the site of Vincent’s gauntlet. A second had turned green at a single spot of blood on Reeve’s collar one afternoon the day both men had helped the Turks with a mission. A third had dissolved in tears after answering a phone call from Cid Highwind, and the pilot had been in a good mood. So far, the two had y

Cid fought the urge to laugh. It was inappropriate as all hell but all he could think of was the old joke his aunt told over and over. Where does a five hundred pound gorilla sleep? Anywhere it fucking wants. Holed up in the remains of an old storefront across from the water tower, listening to the Turks--and Reeve, by extension--blather about what they were going to do about Gigas, that joke was stuck on endless repeat in his head the same way it had been in his aunt’s. Maybe he was finally losing his marbles. If not, he damn sure had a hole in the bag. Here they were, six unenhanced humans and one bigass, armed demon holding a coupl

Reeve considered the request odd, but no stranger than the rest of the trip. “You need what now?” “We need you to find an old fashioned analog tape recorder. Set it outside and get us, Elena, how much you need?” “About twenty minutes, it would be best if you had more than one location. Oh and Rude wants to talk to Vincent.” “Um.” Reeve looked across the room to where his friend was sleeping, sedated since they had found him wandering around the water tower, holding his head in agony. “He’s asleep. He’s been affected by this, whatever it is, just not like us. Headaches, depre

The sleepwalking episode left Vincent shaken. He felt around for his phone, and immediately felt foolish; naturally he wouldn’t have taken it with him in his pajamas. The basement was cold and damp, and the walk back uncomfortable without shoes. And always the Flyers and their cries. The too-bright moon threw his shadow on the ground, thin and fey in the wind. He crept in silence up to his room and sat until he knew Rude would be up. “Something’s wrong,” he said, again bypassing hello. “I think it’s the water. I’m going mad and there is something with Reeve and Reno, they do nothing but fight.”