7thheavendreaming
Dreams don't come cheap, darling
"But if you can afford it, then they'll all come true."
Indie AU Tifa Lockhart || Private RP || Selective
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/Mom teach me magic./
“And what do you want to use magic for?” She raised an eyebrow at Sephiroth, amused smile on her face. “You can barely reach the countertops.”
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withoutanumber:
The bar was dimly lit, and despite it being a bright and sunshine-filled afternoon in Mideel, none of that light seemed to filter in through the windows.
Cloud was fine with that—if he could even still really call himself Cloud. But he had no other name, no other point of reference. Not even a number. He was nothing, literally a broken shell based on a girl named Tifa’s childhood memories. That was what Sephiroth had said, right? Jenova had the power to change someone’s shape, their face…and she was the first one who had found him.
So Cloud he was, Cloud the failure, Cloud the broken, Cloud the Sephiroth clone that hadn’t quite worked. Engineered by Hojo, five years ago. Used as a pawn, and then thrown away when his usefulness had ended. He’d woken up here, the residents telling him he’d washed up on the shore. There was a giant, red specter hanging in the sky now, blazing and ominous, baring down on the planet with a slow, burning ferocity.
Good, he thought to himself, savagely. Let this planet burn. Let everyone die.
He was beginning to understand what Sephiroth must have felt five years ago in that basement as he discovered his origin. Created as an experiment for one specific purpose, the voices in his mind finally beginning to make some kind of sense. But even Cloud’s anger was shorted out, and he couldn’t hold onto it. He just…he didn’t care anymore.
He wasn’t even surprised to see Tifa leaning against the bar, smiling at him so sweetly, asking him who he wanted to be.
Did it matter? Everything on this planet was going to die.
“I don’t think there’s any help for me,” he told her. There was something odd about her, something different. This wasn’t his Tifa—no, he didn’t have a Tifa. So who even cared?
Tifa watched him for long moments, listening to the turmoil inside his soul. There was an awful lot of it, and despair clinging like mold to the cracks of who he was. She breathed for a moment, tasting the hopelessness that radiated off of him like waves.
How sad.
"No help for you, hm?" She stepped behind the bar again, beckoning him to come closer until he was close enough for her to reach out and push him down onto a stool. "Then you're in just the right place, darling. I can make all your dreams come true for you."
That was, after all, what she was in business for.
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*showers you with feathers tbh*
"Oh good, it's molting season! Try to gather them all for me, I have potions to make."
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"And who do you want to be, sweetheart?" He's an utter mess inside, and it's fairly clear why he's stumbled his way into Seventh Heaven, even if he isn't aware of it himself yet. The ability to pinpoint exactly why someone has come to her is a valuable skill, and she takes ruthless advantage of it. Tifa set aside the work she'd been doing, sliding around the counter to meet her newest customer. "If you tell me, I can help you."
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Doppelgangers are nothing new, when there are thousands of universes at your fingertips. She's long since gotten used to opening her doors to find familiar faces on unfamiliar people, and in all honest it isn't like she truly cares about any of them.
They are, after all, simply mortal.
So she plasters on a smile when her doppelganger enters the Seventh Heaven and leans against the counter. "Welcome to Seventh Heaven. where all your dreams are just a payment away. What can I do you for, sweetheart?"
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Tifa's preferred form is based on the looks of the woman she called her mother growing up. As a young child she originally altered herself to look like the man and woman she called her parents, though when she was older she altered the look of her mother to better suit herself, resulting in her current form.
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Tifa isn't evil so much as morally ambiguous; she follows her own moral compass and code of ethics, they just don't always line up with mortal ones.
One particularly strong point for Tifa is that she always completes her end of the bargain -- she just doesn't necessarily do so in the manner her client expects. So long as it's fulfilled, she doesn't care if they like the results.
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Tifa has a fondness for dark chocolate, something she has picked up in her dealings with mortal creatures. Chocolate in general is good, but she likes dark best.
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As an Unseelie, Tifa lacks a soul. She's unbothered by this however, as she has never had one and doesn't see what's so great about them, nor why mortals get so hung up over it.
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