#evcryopeneye​

[ofduskorofdawn]

@evcryopeneye continued from here

“I’m going to knock the shit outta you!” Yuffie protests. She’s mad. Real mad. Deeply mad. 

A foot lashes out and kicks the bar. Well. It wasn’t going to do much other than vent her frustration. There was, however, something funny about a five foot one inch tall sixteen year old fighting a jail cell. 

The Turks' casual attitude made it worse. 

Yuffie hated him. Hated his stupid face and his stupid smirk and his stupid hair and his stupid face. Wait - she thought that already. 

Never mind. 

“Let me out!” Another kick. She was livid and there was nothing that she could do about it. She knew yelling at him wasn’t going to help, and wasn't going to get her out. Only one thing would…and right now she wasn’t sure it was going to happen. 

“I hope Cloud sticks that oversized sword through your head!”

"You keep goin' like that, Short Stuff, and you might hurt yourself. And then who's gonna knock the shit out of me, huh?"

He lets out a low whistle before the smirk fully forms, and he shakes his head, looking at the alleged ninja with no shortage of amusement. He even leans closer to the bars, hand finally moving from his pockets to rest on the cold metal.

Is it out of spite? Pettiness? Just generally being Reno? Who can say?

Certainly not his partner standing with his arms crossed and back against the wall near the door, silently judging him for making potentially poor decisions, but what else is new?

[ Or, rather, Rude probably could shed light as to the motivations, but he won't. After all, that would require more than a '...' to explain. ]

"Jeez. What a temper! D'ya ever wonder if maybe that's why you find yourself in situations like this, kiddo?"

[fivedecisivefactors]

@evcryopeneye continued from here

She does it without thinking. Her hand reaches out, a slap so hard across the face her hand stings. 

Yuffie feels something crack. 

It had been years, the fighting was meant to be over now. They had saved the world…and she couldn’t bring herself to forgive him. She didn’t think she would ever be able to. 

She remembered the sounds of the fighting, sure, she had played up to being able to help. That even as a child she would fight for her country…but it had been terrifying and it had left its mark on her. There was nothing that was going to erase the sounds of panic in the city, or the sounds of enemy forces invading, bombs falling. She had been so young when it started too that it had become normal.

It wasn’t until Yuffie had left Wutai and spoken to people, she realised it wasn’t a universal experience. 

That had made her more angry. 

Then there was the plate. Unlike Wutai….she couldn’t forget the silence. Unlike Wutai there hadn’t been screaming and shouting, there hadn’t been crying, there had been nothing. Dead silence. Horrible, deep, catastrophic silence…and Yuffie had realised it was the sound of death. 

“I will never forgive you. Not for Wutai. Not for the Plate. Not for any of it, and you deserve it.”

Hands clasped behind his back, he does not move. Not when she winds up and not when the blow is about to fall. The only movement is once the slap lands, hard enough that it turns his head and, through the sting, he is fairly certain that he can feel the moment his lip busts against his teeth. Only a moment later, he can taste iron, confirming it.

Still, if she hadn't known that she struck him, if the small rivulet of blood were not plainly visible, there is nothing to betray what had occurred. No annoyance. No anger. No fury. There is nothing.

His expression remains impassive, stoic. [ Only his eyes might threaten to betray him, the slight tightening of his jaw. ]

The force of the strike is nothing in the grand scheme of things. The little ninja is strong, certainly, but he is not exactly feeble—despite his not inconsiderable years—and she was not exactly aiming to kill or even to do lasting damage. This time.

What it represents, the echo of other voices within her words, however... That inflicts far more pain than a busted lip could ever cause.

His grandfather and father also had been unable to forgive him.

His culture, his way of life, his homeland. He had lost all of it, all because he was thirteen and afraid to die, willing to do whatever it took to avoid that fate. He had thought then that his mother and two younger siblings might still be alive, perhaps. That if he could ingratiate himself, perhaps he might be able to find information on where they might be.

[ Even he had been naïve once. ]

And yet, just as it had been then, he offers no excuses.

If he does not permit them to himself—in those quiet moments when he may allow himself to acknowledge the atrocities—then why would he utter them to another, particularly one who has suffered so much?

He does not tell her that those atrocities did not exist in a vacuum. That even those who perpetrated such horrors were themselves terrorized, several of them not even employed by any legitimate choice of their own. That such terrible events did not occur because they were willfully monsters.

[ That they all had something that they were too afraid to lose, something that would be forfeited by defiance or rebellion beyond simply their own lives. ]

No, he offers no explanations, no qualifiers, no excuses.

She is entitled to her anger.

She is entitled to her hatred.

[ Just as he is entitled to his own, self-directed condemnation. ]

He simply reaches up, slow and deliberate, to swipe away the trickle of blood with his thumb, and then looks to her, his entire demeanor, by all appearances, aloof and unaffected.

This is how it must be.

Yuffie and those like her need a villain, need somewhere to place the blame, somewhere to aim the rage caused by everything they have endured. Those who had directed the events that unfolded are gone. Now remains only those who were given orders and followed them. That there were no other viable choices does not matter.

He is just as able as any other to bear the weight of those sins. Perhaps more so.

Sometimes there is no redemption; sometimes there are actions and inactions that make one irredeemable.

Still, Tseng meets her gaze, and he does not flinch, does not falter, as his hand returns to clasp the other behind his back once more.

" As is your right, Miss Kisaragi. I am under no misconceptions, and no one asks or demands otherwise of you."

[fivedecisivefactors]

He should simply leave her to whatever might be her fate in the midst of this latest disaster to which the President had deployed them to lend aid. Perhaps that would be easier.

No, in fact, he knows that it would be easier. After all, he knew even as Valentine had ask his assistance and informed him the ninja was still in the crumbling building--because where else would she be except in trouble, of course--that any attempts at assistance would be met with such [ deserved ] vitriol as he receives now.

Yet, he had entered into the building even so for reasons he cannot quite fathom [ or perhaps, simply, he will not acknowledge them ] and, as he has done that much already, it would be just as well that he sees it through.

"The only one who will get either of us killed is you if you persist with such obstinance."

As the words leave his mouth, he hears the approaching danger before he sees it and--with neither word of warning nor request for pardon--he lifts the young woman and all but throws her backwards and out of the way. He dives to the side almost with the same movement, even as the ceiling explodes into shards as debris comes crashing through from the floors above them, and rolls to regain his feet.

Dark eyes scan the room for any further dangers then snap to her, first to be certain that he had, indeed, gotten her from harm's way and then with that steady gravity and calm that ever has seemed simply part of his demeanor.

"Valentine said that the building is becoming more destabilized by the minute--a fact you now have seen for yourself. Would it not be more prudent for any animosity to be set aside in favor of turning our joint efforts toward expediting an egress?"

@fivedecisivefactors liked for a starter

She near enough growled at him. 

“You.”

It was spat, rather than stated. Anger washed over her like a wave crashing onto the beach. Truth be told, she found herself angry with everyone associated with the company. There was no one person, it was some huge amorphous entity that she could rage at. 

What was wrong with a little rage? At the right time, this might have been productive for her right now it might just get them both killed. Seemed funny that he was here when it seemed like the planet was going to blow up. The maths was mathing. 

“You do this? You’re going to get us all killed! Idiots!” That last one slipped out without much thought. Guilt was assumed rather than considered. “That’s so typical.” 

[kingxlionhartmoved]

@evcryopeneye sent, i hope hell is nice and warm when we get there. ( from yuffie, hi hello i hope this is okay hi )

a pause from rufus. there's such an energy to her statement and it throws him off. he stares and just -- processes that statement.

"you're worried about how warm hell is going to be? right now?"

[byteing]

🌿 ( Kate & Viktor )

The mistletoe that hangs above them when they bump into one another over the doorway is the least of Viktor’s concerns in that moment. It’s possible he doesn’t notice it at all, focused on flattening himself against the wall to let Kate pass by him—but it is a winter party, and there are other people here. Someone lets out a little cackle across the room. He hears another voice say something like Go on, Viktor! just as someone else calls something reassuring to Kate. Offering her an out, probably, to let her avoid the social scandal of kissing a crippled, sickly trencher.

Viktor doesn’t care about how it looks. He does care that it isn’t something he particularly wants to do. Nearly scowling, he looks up at the plant hanging over their heads, then shakes his head at Kate. “Ah, no,” he says stiffly. Not upset with her, but perhaps not cognisant of how his tone is coming across. “I don’t… do that. The tradition. With… near-strangers.”

[recursiveimpulse]

[ LINGER ] * your muse gives my muse lingering touches.

The hair on the back of Viktor's neck prickled, his heartrate quickening so suddenly that for a moment he felt genuinely dizzy. Not quite the kind of palpitations he was used to but--had his heart skipped a beat? Kate's hand was on his arm and she was talking, leaning close while they read together, but the words weren't registering. They swam into Viktor's head as language but floated out as birdsong, incomprehensible but enjoyable.

Why was he this distracted? He tried to centre himself. Focus, Viktor. But the slightest movement of her fingers made him forget what she'd been saying all over again.

Without meaning to, Viktor sat back, his arm slipping out from under her hand as a natural consequence of the movement. He rested his own hand where hers had been in the same way one might touch their cheek after having it kissed.

"Ah... I'm sorry, start again. I was listening, I promise--there's just so much background noise."

There was barely any background noise.

[roscvcins]

"What you SHOULD do, meimei," His voice takes on the quality of nostalgia, because he contemplated this very question once, "Is go back, and rip HER heart out just the way she did to you." It is perhaps a little CONCERNING, how casual a suggestion he makes, but it hasn't been so many years since he followed his own advice, and the remembrance of WHO HE WAS, what he had done, where he had been and the blood he's washed the sect clean with - even if the circumstances had pushed him to it - should not be forgotten just because he lives in peace now. He would do it again, in a heartbeat, if he was crossed once more in that circumstance.

@evcryopeneye liked for a starter ! for f.eng w.u!

[walkedthroughfires]

⚠️ - hes running towards the trouble, you should be going the other way

"Hey, it's my job! But yeah, safety is the opposite direction!"

[soundingstars]

@evcryopeneye x

A missing friend is what brought the dark-haired man to these parts because of the information he managed to get his hands on. He needed to see if it was true or not though. It was the truth that Wei Ying was able to learn shortly after his return while he was being cautious since things wouldn’t go well if he was discovered. The Yiling Patriarch was supposed to be dead after his downfall on that fateful day, a day when everything had been ripped away from him. He lost people who were important to him, he lost his beloved sister who wanted nothing more, but to defend him from harm. A sister who was trying to protect him. That was another reason why he was here because of the bond he managed to create with Feng Wu who most likely had heard about his demise. Was she okay? Was she happy? These were questions that Wei Wuxian was unable to answer as he didn’t hesitate to go searching for her, he needed to know that she was alright. 

The relief was there when he managed to find her even though it had taken him some time, but it seemed that she was doing okay. He didn’t wait a second longer before arriving at the town where Feng Wu was living for the time being. The former Yiling Patriarch wouldn’t find it surprising if she didn’t recognize him while he would have a lot of explaining to do. He would make sure to answer all of her questions though after that lecture was over with if she decided to send one his way. 

A lecture that wasn’t going to happen because of the words that escaped her lips, words which he did and did not expect to hear. Shaking his head, a reassuring smile moved to grace his lips “It’s fine, don’t apologize for that. I’m just an old friend, I just wanted to make sure that you were okay after everything that happened back then.”

[ofduskorofdawn]

@evcryopeneye continued from here

She turns, looks out the window and sees nothing.

For a moment, Yuffie frowns. She doesn’t want to gaslight him into thinking that there’s nothing there, that felt mean and for all of the banter and humour Yuffie had, she wasn’t mean.

Instead she takes a deep breath. His tone is serious. One that doesn’t fit him, and feels out of character for him. It is the only thing that makes her take this seriously instead of just saying something validating and moving on with what it was she was doing.

Hands curl around her weapon as she stands up, and takes a deep breath.

“You wanna come with me? I’m gonna go take a look then.” It was a least she could do, hopefully it would put him at ease if there was no one there, and deal with whoever was there if he was right.

"What? You think I'm the kinda guy to make a gal go out and check a noise for me? Tch. I'm insulted. Wounded."

The words are lighter now that he has convinced her he is quite in earnest, but there's still a seriousness to his expression that undercuts the levity.

A lot could be said about Reno—his penmanship was just bordering illegible, his sense of dress was comfortable at best, and his devil-may-care attitude had a tendency to rub some the wrong way—but when it matters, he has always been dependable.

Taking up his EMR, he settles it across his shoulders in his usual casual manner and nods toward the back door.

"C'mon. Let's sneak around and show this bogeyman he picked the wrong place, yeah?"

[spokewar]

❛ any dream can be a prophetic dream if you’re willing to do some really weird shit. ❜ ( from Tilly )

──✶absolute shit starters

"Yes, and any problem can be solved if you stab just the right people." Likely not the best retort, given stabbing had indeed been the solution to the galaxy's most recent crisis, but such information did not feel pertinent enough to share, at least, not yet. Obi-Wan hadn't quite decided whether he wanted this Starfleet knowing about the grittier details of the Republic's affairs or not. Their government would be pitifully easy to dissolve if someone with enough ambition came around.

Fortunately, people on Lothal enjoyed talking politics as much as they did pulling teeth, so the young ensign would struggle to pull a news report out of anyone, let alone cohesive story about a war fought from four sides and doomed from the start.

"I won't sequester you to the temple, but I also won't bail you out of trouble when you find it," he said, reluctant. "The population is mostly human; you'll think you'll be able to blend in easily enough, but don't be fooled. The locals can sniff out an off-worlder from a mile away. Oh, and saying you're being hosted at the Jedi temple will do you more harm than good."

[brokeniisms]

Send "Pins" for your muse to pin mine against a wall in an attempt to stop them from leaving

@evcryopeneye "Pins" ( from Yuffie, IM SORRY SHES JUST TRYING TO PROTECT HIM THERE WILL BE NO MORE BROTHER FIGURES DYING OK, not today Satan! )

Cloud was sure he was there... calling to him. Sephiroth. His head was killing him and his voice was clear. Often he questions illusion from reality, but certain urges can't be resisted. Cloud couldn't see for himself but his eyes started to turn blank as he made his way to the reactor. No one probably saw but him, but what mattered was what he was being told at the moment. All he could say was, ❝ I need to do this alone... ❞

Of course, others protested, but no one knew the first step to stop him other than to just follow him, and make sure he was okay. But someone else sensed something wrong. It caused her to act out. Snap out of it! The voice wasn't clear until his body was pushed against metal. He felt his shoulders shake and the impact on his back. ❝ Huh? ❞ Cloud blinked rapidly as he started to see clearly again. He saw her face. Yuffie didn't look happy at all. In fact, she looked so sad. It took him off guard. ❝ Sorry... I didn't mean to worry you. ❞

[kingxlionhartmoved]

@evcryopeneye

he's more than a little sleep deprived -- which would be nothing new to anyone who knew him.

"i will not elaborate because i don't know what i just said."

[byteing]

❛ I'm flesh and blood, but not human. I haven't been human for 20,000 years. ❜ (feng wu & corinthian)

Humans will always be his favoured prey, but really, flesh and blood is all he needs: the Corinthian’s teeth part behind the shades, eyelids curling in a grotesque echo of a flehmen response. His maker favours this goddess, he can smell the faint traces of dreamsand where he’s granted her unnaturally pleasant sleep in centuries past, but the Corinthian cares very little for rules these days. What does he have to fear? None can uncreate him save Dream himself, and he’s… well, indisposed. Hopefully forever.

“Funny,” he says pleasantly, taking a few slow, calculated steps closer. “I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to see through the eyes of a god.”

[recursiveimpulse]

"You're supposed to be the sensible one!" (u know who)

“What gave you that idea?” Viktor scoffed - but then, Kate had never seen him in the lab, which was probably for the best. He imagined she would take one look at his and his colleague’s safety precautions (or lack thereof) and kill him for endangering himself. It was a sentiment he understood, just as he understood her very real concern for his recklessness at the moment. That didn’t stop him from dismissing it.

He tried to sound reassuring. “I know what I’m doing.” A pause. He cranked the handle of the device he was using to pick the lock. “Eh, I mostly know what I’m doing.”

[roscvcins]

@evcryopeneye asked : 😨 - Send 😨 to catch my muse doing something they shouldn’t be doing (accepting)

He FREEZES in place, like a startled critter in the forest (for that matter Nanjixing freezes too, going limp on Nan Zhou's shoulder with his little teeth still stuck into a chunk of apple), looking up, and then at the person that the other had been in puruist of - now a crumpled heap on the floor where he'd slammed them into the concrete - and a sliver of guilt appears on his face. For a moment he just stares, and his brain is turning to churn out some kind of response. "...Sorry." Nan Zhou finally begins after a moment, and despite how flat he sounds, the apology is real. "Was that an overreaction? Ah, it was a habit..."

He sees someone flying down the street at top speed and someone else in pursuit and he just...reacted. Probably a good thing his first instinct HADN'T been to go for the neck.