[ She's only been here a few days, and already Aerith feels overwhelmed. There's so much going on in the Nameless City that she doesn't think she can even begin to comprehend. She's sleeping in a shack on the beach, there are checkboxes in squares that were empty before, and people on the bracelet's network have been spending the last couple of days discussing an up-and-coming orgy. All this, when just a few days ago they were leaving the steel sky of Midgar in search of Sephiroth. It's a lot to take in.
Also a lot to take in is the voice from behind her, one she doesn't immediately recognize as she turns around to face its source. She doesn't recall ever meeting him before in her life, this man with his pale skin, his tattered red cloak and long, dark hair held in place with a bandanna in the same shade of scarlet. And yet, he seems to know her.
She almost questions him, something polite and distant, I'm sorry, but do I know you?, but then her searching green eyes alight on the red ribbon tied onto his left gauntlet, and her heart sinks in her chest.
A mission. A prayer. A sword. Meteor. The images have never been clear, but she knows. She's known for a while what's meant to happen. Perhaps even has to happen. What did happen, before. At least from where he stands. She takes a small step forward, the smile on her lips genuine even if it's tinged with feelings she can't even put into words in her own head. ]
You know me, right? [ A pause, and she shakes her head. Ugh, how is she meant to put something like this into words...?
Deep breath. ]
Let me try again: You knew me, before I died. You tried to help us stop Sephiroth. But... [ Her frown deepens. ] That's all in the future for me. I... I can't hear your name.
[ Another few steps forward, to bridge the gap between them, and she holds out her hand for him to shake, as bizarre as the whole thing might perhaps be for someone as far from her future as he. ]
vincent's life has been haunted by them. from loved ones to comrades, he has time and time again been confronted with the mercilessness of death, including his own. most of them lacked any real closure for him. they were sudden and unanticipated, rarely with a chance for him to say goodbye.
they were either beyond his control or entirely his fault.
aerith's death landed somewhere squarely in the middle and, true to his nature, vincent never came to terms with it. he has never been able to cope with any of the losses in his life, from the death of his mother when he was only a boy to his father in his twenties. they were simply buried deep within the recesses of his heart, only brought forth to remind him of his failures through dreams. the red ribbon tied to his gauntlet arm not only symbolizes remembrance of a lost friend but it is also a reminder of his sin.
there is no recognition in the eyes that look at him now, yet oddly enough, she seems to know of her fate. how is that possible though if she is from the past?
quashing down whatever emotion is threatening to erupt, he stills his expression into one of neutral detachment, reaching out to clasp her hand in his own for a quick, yet firm shake. ] Vincent Valentine. [ he lets go of her, lowering his arm to his side, as he regards her curiously. ] How... is it that you're aware?
[ It's a fair question, one to which Aerith herself can't even be completely sure of the answer. As her hand falls back to her side, she offers the man in front of her a small, apologetic smile. She'd tell him it's nice to meet him, but that might be too weird. ]
If I could tell you, I would. I've just... always known things.
[ And since the Whispers appeared, it feels like she's known even more than normal. But she doesn't think that will make a whole lot of sense to Vincent, and so for now, it goes unsaid. ]
I don't know everything, [ she continues, as if that will somehow make this strange, bitter pill easier for him to swallow. ] But I know that I die. That Sephiroth kills me. That's why you're wearing the ribbon, right? He wears one too, in theβ in your time.
[ What a strange conversation. And yet she can't help but feel that no matter how odd it is for her, it can only be worse for him. Talking to someone he knows is long gone... and yet here she is, standing right in front of him, living and breathing and...
A thought occurs to her, a frown creasing her brows. ]
Cloud... He doesn't know, right?
[ He shouldn't. As far as she can tell, they've come from a similar moment in time, not the distant future of which Vincent is a part. (Of which she never will be.) ]
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Also a lot to take in is the voice from behind her, one she doesn't immediately recognize as she turns around to face its source. She doesn't recall ever meeting him before in her life, this man with his pale skin, his tattered red cloak and long, dark hair held in place with a bandanna in the same shade of scarlet. And yet, he seems to know her.
She almost questions him, something polite and distant, I'm sorry, but do I know you?, but then her searching green eyes alight on the red ribbon tied onto his left gauntlet, and her heart sinks in her chest.
A mission. A prayer. A sword. Meteor. The images have never been clear, but she knows. She's known for a while what's meant to happen. Perhaps even has to happen. What did happen, before. At least from where he stands. She takes a small step forward, the smile on her lips genuine even if it's tinged with feelings she can't even put into words in her own head. ]
You know me, right? [ A pause, and she shakes her head. Ugh, how is she meant to put something like this into words...?
Deep breath. ]
Let me try again: You knew me, before I died. You tried to help us stop Sephiroth. But... [ Her frown deepens. ] That's all in the future for me. I... I can't hear your name.
[ Another few steps forward, to bridge the gap between them, and she holds out her hand for him to shake, as bizarre as the whole thing might perhaps be for someone as far from her future as he. ]
So you'll have to tell me, okay?
no subject
vincent's life has been haunted by them. from loved ones to comrades, he has time and time again been confronted with the mercilessness of death, including his own. most of them lacked any real closure for him. they were sudden and unanticipated, rarely with a chance for him to say goodbye.
they were either beyond his control or entirely his fault.
aerith's death landed somewhere squarely in the middle and, true to his nature, vincent never came to terms with it. he has never been able to cope with any of the losses in his life, from the death of his mother when he was only a boy to his father in his twenties. they were simply buried deep within the recesses of his heart, only brought forth to remind him of his failures through dreams. the red ribbon tied to his gauntlet arm not only symbolizes remembrance of a lost friend but it is also a reminder of his sin.
there is no recognition in the eyes that look at him now, yet oddly enough, she seems to know of her fate. how is that possible though if she is from the past?
quashing down whatever emotion is threatening to erupt, he stills his expression into one of neutral detachment, reaching out to clasp her hand in his own for a quick, yet firm shake. ] Vincent Valentine. [ he lets go of her, lowering his arm to his side, as he regards her curiously. ] How... is it that you're aware?
no subject
If I could tell you, I would. I've just... always known things.
[ And since the Whispers appeared, it feels like she's known even more than normal. But she doesn't think that will make a whole lot of sense to Vincent, and so for now, it goes unsaid. ]
I don't know everything, [ she continues, as if that will somehow make this strange, bitter pill easier for him to swallow. ] But I know that I die. That Sephiroth kills me. That's why you're wearing the ribbon, right? He wears one too, in theβ in your time.
[ What a strange conversation. And yet she can't help but feel that no matter how odd it is for her, it can only be worse for him. Talking to someone he knows is long gone... and yet here she is, standing right in front of him, living and breathing and...
A thought occurs to her, a frown creasing her brows. ]
Cloud... He doesn't know, right?
[ He shouldn't. As far as she can tell, they've come from a similar moment in time, not the distant future of which Vincent is a part. (Of which she never will be.) ]