outofcharacter. Oh my Goodness, this is such a wonderful thing to come back to! Thank you; it certainly is nice to see this, even after being quite inactive the past few weeks. Thank you again, Miss Rinny-Mun. It is so highly appreciated and the thought is reciprocated!

    “Midgar had been sentenced to death, I guess you could say. Summoning Meteor was all that it had took to penalise the city so profoundly. And did the party even know what terror was about to uncloak itself from behind the murky veil of anonymity? I think I had always known that the time would come when Shin-Ra’s metallic empire would fall some how. Mum often whispered to me at night…and told me that Midgar wasn’t going to be safe for me — or for any body.

    “I knew that I was going to die, but I had hoped that it would have been after he drew destruction closer to Gaia. I served my purpose, but that’s kinda morbid. That thought. Could I have done more if I’d had my body? If I’d been there, beside my friends, as they watched their home crumble?

    “Even when I was alive I wasn’t really the best in battle, but I know that I was good for some things. I never liked being on the sidelines…cheering voicelessly from the Lifestream; almost powerless. I didn’t want to watch this destruction unearth itself, and wreak havoc all over Midgar. My Midgar.

    “I was a necessary piece in the whole process, though. — Who else could have thought to weaponize it, hmmm? Didn’t hear Zack Fair spurting out any ideas up here, you know. Maybe that’s why I had to die when I did. To compel the Lifestream and use it freely.

    “But so many civilians died that day. I greeted so many familiar faces at the shores of the haven….

    “I never got over that. Kinda sad, now that I think about it….I can still hear so many tortured cries sometimes.”

I really miss seeing Imaginarysoldier and Barmaid-TifaLockharts interactions on the dash. I don’t know what happened or where the Cloud went but I liked the four musketeers of Tumblr (Fairxtroublestarter, Gaianflower and those two are and were the best Cloud Tifa Zack and Aerith rpers out there.

    outofcharacter. That’s very sweet, whomever submitted/made this, but imaginarysoldier has a new account, located here.

my parents’ backyard (by Kristine May.)

rapusodosu:

Professor Gast and all the others that basked in the findings of that alien. One whom they mistook for an ancient and where the twisted experiments began after the cruel removal of Gast. The poet had come across such truths during his time in Deepground, Hojo’s madness and will to do anything to achieve his most distorted dreams was a chilling prospect. The early days when Hollander’s G Project was implemented under the verdant landscapes of Banora — his once beloved hometown. Where Hojo’s S Project was realized within the dingy walls of Shinra Headquarters. Both of them competing to utilize the cells of this ancient to create a being which could guide them to the Promised Land. A place which the Shinra scientists had learned through archaic fables that were written long before the humans became the dominant race of Gaia. Genesis had heard much of this seemingly tranquil realm where it was rich in mako energy. Even the poet scoffed at their stupidity. He had read such ancient tales many a time to realize it was a state of mind, unfortunate that he had delved into madness before he could share such truths. Perhaps if one endowed the announcement of it’s real meaning soon enough, the company may have ceased their experiments if it were all for naught. But for the bards experiences in Deepground did he discover that Hojo possessed many more desires. Those which were corrupt and could only belong to a madman who needed to be erased. And so he was — thankfully.

And sweet liberty was cast upon these gray times. Hope blooming against a vibrant husk, enshrining their allegiance against tears. Sung heroes, how lucky you are.

The Wutai War. The resistance of a cultured land whom hailed the great Leviathan as their deity. Materia stores which strengthened their rebellion against Shinra as the company was ever so adamant in having their begrimed fingers on the mystic power. The days when the poet was referred to as Commander, he and his comrades the front line against their almost feeble attempts at facing an army who had the benefit of the people warped by mako energy, and their technology far exceeding Wutai’s more traditional and honorable take on war. And it was their ideals which eventually led them to drop their arms, occurring only after the war that Genesis brewed on the organisation itself. A bigger problem in Shinra’s eyes. His role ephemeral when the chaos begun, Shinra’s true colours beginning to show and their true power enfolding before the very people it had trapped in it’s grungy web. An amusing concept that Shinra was once but a small weapons manufacturing company and grew into this tyrannical power that shackled the very Planet.

Zack was Angeal’s legacy, a student of his who the poet eventually grew accustomed of meeting during the pleasant days. Only for his views to be warped and twisted by the degradation of his mind, where all he could utter were the divine lines of LOVELESS. Of course, the raven soldier would not wish to share such horrifying truths to a lady. For Genesis had learned much of the hero from Angeal, and grew to learn of his fondness of the opposite gender. Such a bright puppy was not acquaint to relaying such grim stories, always expected to share the good of the world even when everything was falling apart around him. Grief was clear in the puppy’s ultramarine eyes which matched his own, meeting after meeting did the bard witness the growth of both his physique and determination to put it all right. An unattainable dream, Ah~, when did the poet hear those words? When he first joined SOLDIER did Lazard mutter those lines to him when he dispensed his own. Zack was obviously given the same and he too managed to achieve the aloof dream.

And with that legacy’s passing did Shinra also fall when another arose. Chains broken and the kerosene stench thwarted by the embrace of that which was natural. But even then, did the folk need to hold onto it much more. Edge did have some quaint little speckles of green, perhaps the WRO encouraged such as some hopeful symbol for the streets. The world regeneration organisation; pledging an oath to aid the world. Genesis had almost forgotten about their efforts until he noticed a sign during their conversation. A group of ordinary people turned soldiers - lead by the esteemed Reeve whom was once a member of the Shinra board - now took it upon themselves to be the catalysts to get the world on the right resplendent path. A team who had arrested duty in the fight against Deepground, learning of G who was the very man that stood before this radiant flower maiden. They did not know however that this mysterious name in their files gathered from Deepground was now traversing the very Planet, after awakening from a slumber which lasted for years.

“A simple memory that had transformed into something complex, miss. For you to fully understand the predicament that had befallen me, then perhaps my reasons for atonement would be more clear. A domino effect did I once begin, and it is only right that I repay by offering my very life when this world so desires to call upon my aid.” There is some pause in his well sung rendition. Brilliant aquamarine pursuing upward to stare upon cerulean skies that were well clear of some ghastly grays. There was a stretch in scarlet leather, the bundle of flowers lowering to his side as his right arm drooped. Slender digits still tightly clasped around that delicate bunch, whilst his left hand would raise slightly into the cooling air. Now, did his pose take upon that of a born performer. Genesis Rhapsodos indeed. 

“Even if the morrow is barren of promises, nothing shall forestall my return. To be the dew that quenches the land. To spare the sands, the seas, the skies. I offer thee this silent sacrifice.” his edict closed after such a melodious performance. Velvet curtains drawn with the softening of his features returning to his stoic pose of before. Twin radiant cyan orbs rolled downward to survey the petite female, forgetting that he had asked a simple request for aid. Carried away by poetic verse once again, how charming.

    Professor Faremis’ own daughter knew nothing more than a sliver in his regard. Whilst quarantined inside the confines of the Shin-Ra’s condemned laboratory, Ifalna was quiet about the man, seldom delving into anything personal. Even as she grew, Aerith’s many enquiries about him only ever received naught but a fond smile from her mother and a gentle shake of her head. Certain matters, she supposed, should not have been questioned. Though later on in her life, (and after a few histories and records, along with certain video tapes hailing from Icicle Inn had been sifted through), she had been bestowed with a series of fragmented pieces of information about the man: his research regarding both Ancients and the maternal calamity known as Jenova, his partnership with a certain malevolent professor — and thus, the event that compelled his untimely death.

    Whilst her father was still the head of Shin-Ra’s scientific department, the laboratories were not plagued with the twisted and torturous screams of ‘specimen’, or rather, prisoners. He was a just man; one with ethics, and one who strove to absorb as much knowledge as he could, simply to satisfy his own passions. His greatest mistake was classifying Jenova as a Cetra; the calamity had no Ancient blood coursing throughout her veins, though she could bind herself to such an ethereal appearance. Was this the sole reasoning behind Sephiroth’s creation? The brunette wasn’t entirely certain about the matter, however one thing was definite — had Faremis lived, there was a chance Shin-Ra would not have fallen. Nevertheless, the past was not something to dwell upon. She had fleeting feelings of sorrow pertaining toward what had happened; they were ephemeral, hardly eternal, and slightly spontaneous. Why should she miss what she never truly had, any how? Perchance it was an inward yearning, more than outright grieving. 

    Ignorance was, in all truths, pure bliss. With glazed eyes, and rose-tinted glasses adorned upon one’s oculi, all horrors of the true world were veiled, cast aside as if they never existed. For eight years, she was shackled; contained inside of a cell as she squandered days inside of a malicious company’s head quarters. In there, she knew of frigid tile floors and metal — test tubes, and specimen, not of war, and monopolies, and a struggle for power. Talk of ‘extracting cell x’, ‘dissecting such and such’, ‘examining the patient in greater detail’ was common in the hallways whilst the doctors left the lab vacant during their brief breaks; her infant ears could pick up few conversations from her placement in one of the grimy cells. If she found herself lucky, she could be granted time to wander about the vicinity, and often times, she would stumble into the intriguing lab; as if a portcullis to a new land had been revealed, her eyes were opened to certain horrors no child should perceive. 

    On the other hand, there were children who resided in the various sectors beneath Midgar; those youths were susceptible to abominations along the likes of pollution-educed illnesses, poverty, and hunger. Perhaps both cases were two sides of the same coin. For any matter, her situation and their’s had been caused by Shin-Ra.

    Edge had been battered and bruised by many treacherous happenings, but it still stood, and its citizens still smiled. Prior to Midgar’s collapse, and shortly after, it was woe that pulsated through the metropolis’ streets; presently, there was a soft, bright hope that manifested within. — Even after all this city had seen, and all that it had endured, there was still a delicate shimmer of life that strode on. No calamity, no pseudo God, and no cruel company could strip Edge of such.

    “How beautiful….” A whispered remark was articulated tentatively as he ceased to speak. There was something melodious about his voice; something alluring and reminiscent about it. And as he spoke, she could hardly stop herself from listening to him with the utmost intent. He chained himself to his own guilt, akin to a heavy burden he alone could bear…and somewhat kindred with a delusional delivery boy she once knew. Auburn brows were drawn together gently as a bemused expression marred her mien. “But…you won’t need to be sacrificing yourself. I don’t think that the Planet needs that kinda help. Not yet, any way. The world hasn’t requested your aid yet, has it? Although, you did ask for mine. Certain memories should be forgotten, I’d think…and grudges erased. Yesterday ended last night, after all. And there are some things that should be said, yet not heard. People deserve forgiveness, so long as they strive for it.” An opaque shadow of inquisitiveness graced her visage as emerald irises met with opulent aquamarine. There was no nativity cloaking her eyes, only an earnest yearning to hear his retort; an unwavering wish to hear his story in its entirety, if he were only willing to give it to her.

    Would hearing of his alleged sins change her opinion of the crimson-clad male? There was a slim chance, nearly implausible. Though would retelling such a tale lift his guilt, and make it dissipate? Her queries were sincere, backed by an honest will to listen. “Domino effect…? Of what magnitude?”

Load the car and write the note
Grab your bag and grab your coat
Tell the ones that need to know
We are headed north

One foot in and one foot back
But it don’t pay, to live like that
So I cut the ties and I jumped the tracks
For never to return

85/366 (by Obey pepsi)

(Source: sleepyheadtunes)

fairxtroublestarter:

“Well I’m fine being called an idiot as long as I’m yours.”

    “That’s a fair deal, I think.”