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cheri-translates · 4 years

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[CN] Gavin’s Dangerous Night Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 危夜之约, which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Do note that this date features S2 Gavin, but doesn’t contain S2 spoilers.

Timeline: The STF Filming Plan -> Dangerous Night Date -> Saving the Young Troublemaker Project

[ This date was released in CN on 28 Sep 2020 ]

Female Anchorwoman: Next, our focus is on breaking news.

On the television, the two words “Breaking News” are displayed on Loveland Night News. The female anchorwoman looks into the camera and starts presenting the news.

Female Anchorwoman: Around 10pm today, a building in the suburbs of Loveland City collapsed for reasons still unknown. According to sources provided by eye-witnesses, the building was part of a certain estate development project, and has not been put to use. Typically, no one goes in or out. But this does not eliminate the possibility of people being trapped within. The municipal administration has expressed that this incident could have been caused by Evol. The STF has been engaged to carry out a rescue mission. Loveland Night News once again calls citizens...

Squadmate: Captain Gavin, we’ve contacted the base. The search and rescue dogs will be here soon.

Gavin sits on a chair, his legs crossed as he pulls the strings on his leather boots tightly.

Gavin: Got it. We’ll set out once the search and rescue dogs are here.

Squadmate: Yes.

Gavin stands up, adjusts his equipment to a comfortable level, then picks up his phone on the table.

The phone displays the time: 22:59. It’d take an hour to reach the collapsed building.

Gavin taps on a message he received three days ago. The sender is MC.

Message from MC: Gavin, when I was out for location scouting, I discovered a slightly strange building in the suburbs of the city. There seems to be special Evol fluctuations inside.

Message from MC: Does the STF want to make some time to investigate?

Message from MC: Just to be clear - I’m really not joking this time.

His response was: I’ll take a look next week.

There’s a cute emoticon in the white message bubble opposite.

And the conversation ended there.

The response section still retains the draft he didn’t send at the time: Don’t go there alone.

By the time images of the collapsed building appeared in the news, the surrounding area had already been cordoned off.

Gavin makes a call... “du”, “du”, “du”, again and again.

When the female automated voice resounds, Gavin hangs up.

---”the number you have dialed is currently unavailable.”

It’s dark.

I open my eyes, attempting to stand up in the dark.

MC: ...I’m not dead.

I rub the dull ache at the back of my head, panting while my heart flutters with fear.

The collapse of the building happened so suddenly. I instinctively ran to a corner to hide. From the looks of it, that decision saved my life.

I reach out to feel around my surroundings--

There’s a wall in front of me. It’s slanted, so it must have fallen. It just so happened to shield me from broken stones that fell.

But precisely because of this, I’m stuck in a narrow space and can’t really stand up.

MC: Cough, cough cough...

My mouth is filled with the taste of dust, and I don't know how long I've lost consciousness.

The building was swaying very violently when it collapsed. I couldn’t stand steadily at all, and my entire body collided with a wall.

I return to my senses, using both hands to feel the ground.

My phone... I remember gripping my phone the entire time.

No one knows that I'm here. This unfinished building has been left empty for several years, so no one might come to my rescue.

I need to hurry and find a way to call for help.

Air is still flowing here, so there’s no danger of oxygen deprivation. But I can only survive for 3 to 4 days without a water source.

Before the building collapsed, I was in the basement level. Logically speaking, it’s near the surface, but I can’t tell if the upper floors are crushing on it...

The wall above me doesn’t seem to be able to hold much more weight. If it gets weighed down slightly, there’s a risk of a collapse.

I frantically feel around the mess on the ground - it’s all pieces of rock, broken steel bars, glass shards...

Suddenly, I see a single, cold ray of light--

The phone touchpad recognises my fingerprint, lighting up the screen. I hurriedly pick up the phone, and on it displays: “2 Missed Calls”.

MC: Gavin.

Upon seeing this name, the tautness in my heart suddenly relaxes.

I immediately give him a call. The “du”, “du” of the dial tone resounds in the empty and quiet darkness, amplified infinitely.

Countless thoughts fly across my mind--

Maybe Gavin is resting. Maybe he’s on an important mission. Maybe he isn’t in Loveland City now...

“du”, “du”, “du”...

When the fifth beep sounds, I’ve already set down the phone, preparing to hang up.

Gavin: Where are you?

MC: Gavin!

I suddenly hear Gavin’s voice. I stare at the screen and am stunned for a moment.

And react immediately!

MC: Gavin! The unfinished building in the suburbs I told you about just collapsed. I’m trapped in it, in the basement--

Gavin: Got it.

His voice is overly calm, which I find odd.

MC: You already know about the collapsed building?

Gavin’s calm voice drifts from the phone, mixed with the clamour of his surroundings.

Gavin: I’m in charge of tonight’s search and rescue mission.

MC: ...

MC: ...haha! That’s great.

Gavin: What’s wrong?

MC: Nothing much, I just feel the happiness of a disaster survivor.

Gavin: I haven’t even rescued you out yet.

MC: With you around, there won’t be a problem.

Gavin breathes composedly, as though not knowing what to say.

Gavin: If you were afraid of death, you shouldn’t have gone running around in the middle of the night.

Gavin: ...I can’t leave out a single reminder.

Gavin raises his volume.

Gavin: Where were you before the collapse?

MC: The carpark in the underground basement.

Gavin: I’m looking for you now. Take care of your own safety.

MC: Hold on. Gavin, there’s no hurry to look for me. I was only here for a short while and there won’t be any danger. But I saw some vagabonds staying here at night. There are definitely other people in this building. Save them first!

Gavin is silent for a few seconds.

Gavin: The STF will not decide who it will save first or later. I’ll save everyone.

I don’t want to wait here alone, so I don’t hang up even after a long time.

Neither does Gavin.

Sometimes, the sound of Gavin and other members of the STF would drift from the phone.

Gavin: Do you have the plane figure of the building?

Squadmate: Got it. Captain Gavin, we’ve asked around the vicinity, and there are a few vagabonds living in this building. Most of them are on the third or fourth floor.

Gavin: There’s been a rainstorm these two days. This building doesn’t have covered windows. Locations near the windows will be drenched from the rain. They should be in the middle parts of the floor. Two people per group - bring the search and rescue dogs and begin the operation.

Squadmate: Understood!

I hug the phone in contemplation.

Before sending Gavin the message, I had already visited this building a few times to investigate.

I familiarised myself with all the entrances and exits to have the confidence to deal with any surprise situations. But I completely didn’t expect that this would happen.

Gavin: [with a gentle voice capable of making flowers bloom] Are you all right?

After a moment, I realise that Gavin is talking to me.

MC: Huh? I’m fine.

I look at the time displayed on the phone - It’s already 1am.

Gavin: Are you sleepy?

MC: ...I’m not that brave. How could I be drowsy under such circumstances?

Gavin: The scope of the basement level is too large. I need a more detailed lead.

MC: Are you holding the plane figure of the building?

Gavin: Yes. Relate your route to me.

MC: I came in using the east entrance, and planned to take the stairs up from the fire exit. So I should have been heading west.

The sound of a finger gliding across the paper can be heard.

Gavin: During the collapse, did you see the fire exit?

MC: I didn’t. It was probably around a hundred metres away. I’m currently trapped in a corner. The structure here is pretty stable, so it could be a load-bearing wall.

Gavin: I know your approximate location. Wait for me.

MC: Mm.

Hearing my soft sigh, Gavin laughs.

Gavin: Are you afraid?

MC: Maybe a little. It’s a new experience in life, so of course it’d scare someone.

Gavin: Knowing what it means to be afraid is a good thing. If I didn’t come, how did you plan to rescue yourself?

MC: There’s no such “if”. The moment I felt something was amiss, I gripped my phone and wanted to give you a call.

I hold onto the phone, staring at the light on the screen, and staring at the word “Gavin” on it.

Just this name alone harbours the ability to make one feel at ease.

Gavin: You’re so certain that I’d come rescue you?

MC: Mm! Captain Gavin is someone who will never leave a single Loveland City citizen in the lurch.

Gavin ignores me.

MC: ...

MC: Have you found the other people who are trapped?

Gavin: We’ve found two. They’re being rescued now.

MC: That’s fast...

Gavin: STF’s search and rescue dogs have undergone professional training. They can accurately locate people who are trapped.

MC: Search and rescue dogs?

??: Bark!

A bark suddenly drifts from the other end of the line.

Gavin: Little Grey should have found you.

MC: Little Grey? What a careless name... Were you the one who named it?

Gavin: What’s wrong with the name?

...I don’t give him a response.

In the darkness, I seem to hear sounds from above.

Tiny rocks are pelting from above. The steel bars seem to be weighed down by something, releasing a whimpering sound.

Gravel and dust rustle as they fall...

MC: Gavin!

MC: Leave quickly. Bring your men and leave immediately, it’s dangerous! There’s going to be a second collapse--

Gavin breathes, as though he’s about to speak, but doesn’t. He quickly issues out orders.

Gavin: Everyone, take note. Evacuate immediately. I repeat - Evacuate immediately!

I hug the phone, not sure what I should say to Gavin.

Gavin: [with the gentlest of voices] MC, you’ll be okay.

His voice carries with it his usual confidence.

Gavin: I guarantee.

I press the phone to my ear, capturing every breath in his voice. After adjusting my breathing, I raise my volume.

MC: You have to leave quickly, don’t stay here! I’m very safe where I am. Shouldering another collapse is no problem!

The creaking of the steel bars grows closer. I’m not sure if it’s just my misperception, but the wall above me seems to have caved downwards slightly.

Already set to the lowest brightness, my screen becomes even dimmer.

A few large rocks pelt down in front of me, channelling large gusts of dust.

MC: Just bring Little Grey to look for me later, I...

Rumble!

The building collapses once again, causing dust clouds to billow.

The STF team members have rescued two elderly folk who are in their fifties, who collect scraps for a living.

Gavin stares at the ruins in front of him wordlessly.

His eyes are mixed with imperceptible, repressed emotions. It’s as though underneath the tranquil ocean hides turbulence and fierceness.

The searchlights illuminate the location he was standing at just now, and the search and rescue dogs had already sent a signal to him -- it meant that his target could have been under his feet.

Maybe only five metres away. Maybe three metres.

Gavin: Everyone--

He squats down, rubbing the nape of the rescue dog, pulling on its leash again.

Seeming to sense something out of the ordinary, they wag their tails at Gavin, as though comforting him without words.

With a heavy gaze, he looks towards the two rescue dogs, as though he’s handing over all his trust.

Gavin: Recommence the search and rescue operation. Be sure to rescue everyone who has been trapped.

The phone has already exhausted its battery, and has shut off automatically.

I’m huddled in a corner, trying to reduce the amount of energy expended.

I know that the slanted wall has already collapsed, and is hanging above. Maybe the steel bar didn’t snap, which is why only half of it has weighed downwards.

There’s a wall behind me, and a gigantic fallen rock in front. I don’t have any space to move.

But it’s far too dark. I can’t check the condition of the wall behind me, and I don’t know how much longer it can hold.

MC: Gavin.

There’s nothing I can do. I lean on the wall and wait patiently.

I know he’ll come.

MC: ...

A few hours pass, and I hear some sounds from above, but they disappear into the darkness quickly.

Perhaps knowing that Gavin will definitely appear, the fear and anxiety in my heart dissipates with the passage of time.

The most distinct feeling is tiredness.

Maintaining my posture of sticking close to the wall, my back is hunched, and I’ve been sitting until my bottoms hurt.

Time passes so slowly here. Every second is elongated.

The physical fatigue I’m experiencing tells me that an entire night has gone by.

In the middle of sleeping and waking, a bright light suddenly appears before my eyes...

I immediately turn my back towards it -- as expected, in the next instant, a strong wind suddenly lifts the tiles and bricks in my surroundings.

I lift my head to see Gavin standing above the ruins.

The sun is faintly discernible behind him and the layers of clouds, illuminating a faint glow in the blue horizon. Wind brushes his fringe, revealing that pair of resolute amber eyes.

Gavin: Are you okay?

His voice is very light, and exudes a rare fatigue. It seems he has been busy the entire night. But a faint smile still hangs at the corners of his lips.

...as compared to the wry smile I’m wearing now, Gavin seems more like the disaster survivor.

Gavin: Give me your hand!

He takes a step forward, reaching out to me. I hurriedly hold onto it, but I don’t want my entire self to be towed away by him.

My vision is turned upside down. Gavin suddenly hoists me onto his shoulders.

MC: ...Gavin?!

I see that under his protective gear, his shirt is drenched with sweat, sticking to his broad back.

Reason tells me to put up a bit of a struggle. But after hanging by a thread between life and death for an entire night, I seem to be unable to triumph over the tiny greed in my heart.

The doctor from the ambulance comes over to help, but Gavin waves a hand at him, signalling that there’s no such need.

He walks forward by around ten metres, leaving the site of the ruins. He sees me down on the hood of a STF car.

His brows are furrowed, looking as though he’s suppressing his emotions. My gut feeling tells me that he’s angry.

MC: ...I was wrong! I was wrong because I shouldn’t have gone running around in the middle of the night, and troubling the STF to rescue me. As for using the community’s resources, I’ll be sure to do a serious self-reflection.

MC: I guarantee that this is the only time. There won’t be a next time!

Gavin was probably about to say those things to me, and didn’t expect that I’d acknowledge everything. So he remains silent for a period of time.

Although are elements of a joke in my words, I shoot him a resolute, apologetic and sincere expression.

I know that he’s worked hard for an entire night, and has been worried for an entire night.

After a moment of silence, he releases a faint sigh.

Gavin: You said it yourself - there won’t be a next time.

While he speaks, he reaches out to place a hand on my head--

MC: Ah it hurts...

The back of my head suddenly hurts, and I exclaim softly. When I reach out to touch it, I discover that there’s a big lump on the back of my head.

Gavin: You’ll only learn your lesson after experiencing some pain. I’ll send you to the hospital for a check up later.

MC: No need, I...

Information must have been sent through his earpiece. Gavin lifts his hand to signal that I should be quiet. He leans his head to the side, listening seriously.

Thinking that the search and rescue operation has yet to be completed, and that he definitely has other things he’s busy with, I hop down from the hood of the car, making a “I’m off” hand gesture towards him.

The world around me suddenly darkens a few times--

My legs grow weak, and my vision dims. Dimmer and dimmer...

Just before I lose consciousness, I seem to feel Gavin’s hand on my cheek, the rough fabric of the military gloves, his calloused finger pads...

I feel it all.

Doctor: The nuclear magnetic resonance shows that it’s just a mild shock of the brain. It’s nothing serious. The loss of consciousness is only temporary. It could also be due to low blood sugar levels and insufficient rest.

Doctor: If you’re worried, she can remain in the hospital for observation for two days. Are you a family member of the patient? I’ll bring the documents over in a while.

Gavin: All right.

With a sound of acknowledgement, the doctor leaves the ward.

The girl lying on the bed hasn’t regained consciousness. The IV on the back of her hand is strung to glucose.

Gavin walks over, reaching out to brush aside her fringe, which is damp with sweat. His brows furrow slightly, as though he’s angry. As though he doesn’t know who he should be angry with.

Gavin: ...why are you so bold - daring to go anywhere on your own.

He sits on a chair in front of the bed, leaning against the back of the chair in fatigue.

His deep gaze sweeps past her pale cheeks and haggard shoulders, stirring up great waves within his eyes which differ from usual.

After a while, deep breathing fills the quiet room.

Sunlight pours in through the curtains, chasing away all the darkness and unease of the night before.

Phone call: here

🦮 MOMENTS 🦮

Gavin’s Post: The team received a box of canned dog food.

MC: I don't know the address of the base for search and rescue dogs, so I could only send them to you.

Gavin: Got it. I’ll send it to the base.

Gavin’s Post: The team received a box of canned dog food.

MC: I sent it - it’s for Little Grey.

Gavin: They don’t eat outside snacks, but I’ll convey your kind regards to them.

Gavin’s Post: The team received a box of canned dog food.

MC: Only cans of dog food? Captain Gavin, check the box again...

Gavin: A silk banner for Little Grey? All right, I’ll accept it on its behalf.

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc gavin #this date left me feeling so emotional T^T

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hakutaichou · 3 years

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[JP] Behind The Curtain - Part 6: After Returning (Chapter 28)

⚠️ SPOILER AHEAD ⚠️

This post contains BIG spoiler from “Behind The Curtain” series which some of them have not been released in Global servers.

Source: Youtube Footage

The momentum of the flame gradually diminished. A young blonde man standing in the smoke turns to me. There was a lonely shadow in his azure eyes.

???: Its looks like your cute friend are completely back home huh.

Kiro: This is none of your business.

Kiro raised his head. His burning reflected blue eyes, are frosty and unfriendly.

The dark-skinned man shrugged and blew a whistle and jumped on the helicopter in front of him.

???: Well then, do you want to leave for our new world?

Kiro stared at the abandoned place from far away. The golden hair is mixed with bright silver. When he raised his finger, the silver ring flashed.

He muttered quietly, as if speaking to the ring and himself.

Kiro: She is waiting for me.

Kiro: For the Brave New World.

His voice, was drowned out by the smoke coming from the behind. At that time, the light of the ring spread widely. The bright light pierces my eyes---

MC: Kiro..., what in the world are you going to do...?

When the white light disappeared, another twinkling light and a huge space-time gear appeared in front of me. The door, which should have been open a little, is closed before I knew it.

Also, that mysterious voice uttered the words I heard somewhere.

???: Now, tell me your name.

Helios: Helios.

The scene awakens the memories that had fallen apart. She had previously heard the same conversation in the dark.

???: Don’t forget your promise with me.

Helios: When she comes back, the new world plan will begin.

The silver-haired young man turned around and disappeared into the diffused electromagnetic waves. In that time, I clearly remembered when I heard that conversation.

But at that time, it was an old man who was talking to Helios.

???: Yes, I was the one who signed the contract with him.

Suddenly that voice, responded to my heart.

???: In this space-time, you and I are free to choose the shape in which we exist.

MC: ...Do you understand what I’m thinking?

???: Thinking and dialogue are similar. The limits of everything...can change as much as you think.

???: For example, like the sight you will see from now on.

There was another sound of the door opening from a distance, faster than I could answer. The footsteps are approaching. What appeared was that familiar black dressed woman.

Young Woman: I’ve come to say goodbye to you.

She seems to be talking to someone other than me. That voice responds to her.

???: Oh. Did you get what you wanted?

She sooks the black box she got. The moment I saw the box, I was terrified and felt a squeezing pain in my chest.

Young Woman: She thinks this is the only key to opening the door to this world. You wouldn’t expect me to lose power in this way.

???: Do you mean closing this door?, Say goodbye to where you were born?

Young Woman: That’s right. There’s no regret in such this place anymore. I’ll be the one and only me in that world.

???: I see. Good Luck.

Young Woman: Goodbye...

Suddenly, there was a deafening sound. I couldn’t hear his name she said. She smiled, turned around, and walked towards the unlocked door.

I stared at the black box she had. Every time she walks, my consciousness trembles.

???: If you want to see it, go see it. This door you opened will be closed soon.

A mysterious voice guides me. The black box gets bigger and bigger, fills the vision with black---

Cyril: Do you know the origin of the name “BLACK SWAN”?

I can see an elegant young man standing in a luxury gift shop. In there, a graceful piano pieces is playing.

A young man looked down at me. A black box is reflected in the cool eyes that look like snow.

MC: Am I...in inside of the box?

Cyril: “BLACK SWAN” is a word that means an unexpected event. Mankind, has no way to predicting the impact of the event.

Cyril: When I first heard their name, I immediately liked it. I also wanted to be a companion.

Cyril: But...the majority of them, are still living in this illusion. Only a few were aware that humanity was ignorant.

Cyril: They, can’t help me to complete my work.

Young Woman: Then, let me help you this time.

The young man turned around. It’s a frosty eyes that keeps others away. The same gaze as looking at the shop’s exhibits is given to the woman in a black dress.

She traces the black box with her finger. I was struck by a freezing chills of blood all over my body.

Young Woman: No matter how you handle it, it’s your freedom.

The moment her fingertips left the box, I exhaled.

Cyril: Who in the world, are they waiting for?

Cyril: In this world, is there really anyone waiting for her?

While saying that, the young man pressed the crystal piano keyboard. The jarring sound echoes---

Cyril’s Mom: Cyril, continue it. With your power... please show me the perfect world.

The woman lying in bed, looked at him with beautiful eyes that looked a lot like that boy. There’s no power in that eyes.

Cyril’s Mom: For the one last time, I want to feel the beauty of this world with my whole body.

Cyril’s Mom: That’s also your...meaning of existence.

The boy grows up in the snowstorm and turns into an innocent boy. From there, the outline became sharper again, and it became an elegant young man.

A snowy wind pushes the window open and surrounds his mother. She turned into white snow and suddenly disappeared.

The young man doesn’t notice the snowstorm, and just concentrates on the piano.

The sound of hailed snow knocking on the windows, finally made him aware of the changes in the outside world.

[Glass breaking sound]

There was a sharp, dry sound. A piece of glass scatters and falls on the piano. The young man who is absorbed in playing still keeps an eye on the keyboard.

MC: Watch out!

A piece of glass glazed the young man’s long finger. A line of blood flows, on the skin like ice and snow.

The young man finally stopped. As if time had frozen there, the lingering sound of the piano remained in the room covered with heavy snow.

He looked up. Like an innocent puzzled child who touched the piano for the first time, that eyes comes to mind.

Cyril: Who...are you?

MC: I...who am I?

Perhaps, I’m a piece of gene that hidden in a cold box. It has such a name and the power that everyone wants. That’s it.

The real me...i wonder where is it?

Snow steadily piles up and covers his world.

In front of my eyes, a number of overlapping screens appeared.

***

In front of the evolution accelerator with the door open. Lucien stands out with anger and shock.

Lucien: ...It was you?!

***

On a swaying cargo ship. Victor who opened the box has a surprised expression.

Victor: It was you?

***

In the something cluttered base. Gavin, who received the black box that fell from the sky near a machine like a pillar, solidifier as it is.

Gavin: It was you...?

***

A splendid black stage with no people. Kiro goes step by step toward the center where the spotlight hits. Its eyes, are pale golden.

Kiro: It was you...

Familiar scenery and people disappear one after another. There was no doubt about it anymore. This is all, what actually happened.

Different timelines...different possibilities...in countless situations, they have done the same thing over and over again.

Obtain the black box.

Discover the genes that hidden in the box.

Find Queen.

And that Queen is---

???: You.

The words echo in my mind and take root deep in my consciousness. A mighty force, was about to give birth.

The gradual and stronger power created a bottomless vortex that swallowed my consciousness.

???: In this extremely confused space and time, did you get the answer you were looking for?

I was also pulled back in front of the light and gears. What was waiting there was, that voice who guided me.

I, can’t see him or myself. I was starting to notice. I shouldn’t have been aware of my existence here.

I’m just..., I...

???: Did you finally notice it?

The voice asked me as if I had seen through my heart.

???: Try to say the answer in your heart.

???: Who, are you?

[Option 1] MC: I’m Queen.

[Option 2] MC: I’m MC.

MC: I’m Queen.

???: ...That answer, I heard it well.

???: With that choice in your mind, face your own world.

???: When you come here again, everything is---

???: A new beginning.

#mlqc #mlqc spoilers #mlqc jp #mlqc victor #mlqc lucien #mlqc gavin #mlqc kiro #mlqc cyril #ANCUDABJACX ITS DONE OMG I NEED SLEEP RN #TOO MUCH ANGST IN THIS POST

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monasatlantis · 3 years

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My thoughts on MLQC chapter 25 to 28

It took my ages to find the time to play these chapters but I finally did it and here is what I think and feel about it: (Obviously SPOILER FOR CHAPTER 25 to 28!)

- Did they really have to send all those spam-messages to MCs phone? Would it not have been enough to just mention that she got a ton?

- The Voice-Mails of the boys from the time when they thought she was dead were heartbreaking. (Some of the moments they posted too...)

- I am sorry but this was once again a time where I found Luciens chapter absolutely boring and MCs behavior towards and around him absolutely stupid

- I liked the confusion at first tho, when you weren’t sure if MC was replaced by another version of herself, while on the other hand you were already suspicious of the fact that Lucien must have had hallucinations of her and now thinks she still is just made up by his own mind because he missed and needed her so much

- I get that he had a trauma do to MCs death and I would have accepted him hallucinating her as somewhat normal, but what is beyond normal is turning your own flat into a copy of hers. And it is also beyond healthy or normal or right to pretend that your flat is her flat, going as far as locking her into said flat and becoming slightly aggressive when she tries to leave

- It honestly makes me wonder if the same people who are currently saying “Awwww. Poor Lucien.” aren’t the same people who called Victor toxic when he was getting way too overprotective in chapter 11 after almost losing MC a second time...

- I kind of found Luciens part a bit misplaced, to be honest. Its probably do to the Harem-Prospect of the game but it felt oddly weird that MC, as naive and stupid as she is, was willing to give Lucien in his madness the time he needed to get a grip while other people were certainly more deserving of her showing them that she was alive and well. Namely, Victor (especially him after he was basically the one to have to live with the burden that he killed her) and Gavin, but also the friends from her company that she constantly keeps forgetting and also Kiro/Helios who actually had a ton of questions to answer that I would have wanted to be answered like right now!

- I know that Luciens part should have made us feel sorry for him, and I did, really, but it also made me be even more wary of him, because it showed us very well how f*cked up his mind actually is and how easily he loses control over his sanity

- I have absolutely no idea what to think about Shaw at the moment

- I liked how Gavins part was (as per usual) so full of action and those amusing conveniences XD

- Seriously tho, MC herself said it was a stretch to think she was a man, no matter how good her disguise and yet no one doubted her

- How high are the chances that she bumps into Gavins chest right the first day and ends up in his room basically right the next? XD

- I still wonder if Gavin immediately seeing through her disguise was because he loves her so much or because the disguise was so bad ^^’

- It was great that MC was doing so well in her endeavors to help/rescue Gavin for once. Usually she ends up being a burden for him - not that he cares - but this time I think she did a good job in being as helpful as possible. Shows that she learned a thing or two in the “winter wonderland” she was stuck in

- How dumb can MC be that the name of the place she had to go to to find were they help Evolvers didn’t tip her off immediately? I could absolutely not blame Victor for calling her a dummy for this...

- The buildup for the reunion with Victor was great and so was the reunion itself

- Hearing Victors voice break like that hit me right in the feels

- Was I the only one who thought for a moment she accidentally ended up in one of Victors dates when he told her she had to make the time she was gone up to him and it looked like he was about to kiss her, and she seemed fine with it? Or did I just interpreted too much into his words and his actions?

- Victor was badass this whole time on the ship. This man is amazing and I just loved how in control he was of everything and how prepared he was for any situation

- I loved how MC described what his hand was doing while they were holding hands when she was hiding behind him

- The whole Victor part actually made me feel really happy... until it got revealed that he has secrets from MC. Which sucks.

- MC was supposed to wait for Victor and played the little housewife at first, yet she suddenly left for some shady shop, then for a questionable date in an amusment-park with Kiro and was planning to go home after that... so... uh... weird?

- Kiros part was the biggest disappointment for me in this chapters. What was that even?

- First, there was almost no time left for him, then MC didn’t ask any of the questions we all have and goes on stupid rides with him instead, then he sends her getting food for him in a park that was about to blow up soon and then he was up and gone AGAIN

- Something felt off the moment MC got Kiros message. I never felt so guarded and wary in a Kiro-Centered part of the game, not even when it was Helios we faced

- As if it wasn’t bad enough that we barely had any time with Kiro after we finally got the sunshine-boy-back (okay... I am honest with you, I prefer Helios. He is more hot XD), the time we had was not even enjoyable do to the fact that things felt off from the start

- Kiro is second place for me and yet I decided against telling him to go with him, because for the first time in this game I felt like I couldn’t fully trust him. The game didn’t care about that tho and MC whined about a hug and a promise she never got, when Kiro left

- So... is Helios officially the Boss of Black Swan now? And is Black Swan actually still our Enemie?

- Who is going to answer all my questions now? I mean, what happened to MCs powers? When is Kiro answering us how he knew we were back? And so on.

- Overall the chapters were just alright. Something was missing... I just can’t say what exactly

- I didn’t like that MC was thrown into the chaos of the world like 2 Minutes after she finally returned. Give the woman a break!

- I was really glad that the Kids who the STF got their hands on were save and sound on Victors ship

- But where did Victor actually bring those people who were on that ship?

- What exactly did Kiki and Co. knew about MC being missing given that obviously people saw her die? I mean... didn’t she somehow destroy the timeline with simply returning after half a year in which she was technically speaking dead?

- WHAT DID YOU SAY? THE MUSIC IS TOO LOUD! I CAN’T HEAR YOU!

- What is the deal with Cyril? Is he still an enemy?

- I kind of liked tho, how these chapters showed us the difference in the relationship and chemistries MC has with the boys. How she was giving Lucien time to heal, how she was comrades in arms with Gavin, how she blurted out “I missed you” to Victor and how she immediately went with Kiro when he wanted to enjoy the amusement park even tho she had so many questions and things seemed off

- I do think tho this season should come to an end soon. It feels like its enough at this point

- And once again, more questions, almost no answers

#mlqc #mlqc spoilers #Chapters 25 to 28 #My to cents about the new chapters

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creamypudding · 5 years

Text

WIP Clack sneak peek

Hi,

I’ve decided to upload a sneak peek of my WIP Clack story. I’m currently on writing chapter 8 and I think the story might have 10 chapters, so I’m sort of nearing the end mark, but also still a fair way off completion because a lot of editing needs to be done. I’m currently re-reading everything that I’ve written so far to get my head around the timeline, which I had no clue about when I first started writing it, so now I’m making minor adjustments (read: major edits) to the previous chapters before moving on to chapter 8. It’s my form of procrastination because chapter 8 is a POV change, which is notoriously difficult on my soul. So, while there is no guarantee that this chapter 1 will look exactly like this when I get to posting the whole story, it should still be a very close approximation once I’m done with everything. I am happy to share this bit and hope to pique your interest in this AU. This story will explore mental health issues, like PTSD and body dysphoria. The main setting is in a hospital, so set expectations accordingly. Title: Silver Lining (working title) Chapter: 1 Fandom: FFVII - Modern AU Pairing: Cloud/Zack Rated: Teen Word Count: 10,232 Summary: Cloud is a delivery driver and one day gets a very specific job to complete, which sends him to the brink of discomfort, but leaves the door open for something very wonderful to potentially bloom.

CHAPTER 1 - Despite the winter sun being at its low-hanging apex, and this region never getting any snow, it was still cold. The frosty air gnawed and bit into the tip of Cloud’s nose, blasted against and stiffened his glove-covered fingers, and caused shivers to wrack his body. Winter wasn’t the best time of year to ride his motorcycle, but his passion for his vehicle outweighed the seasonal discomfort. He was as rugged up as he could be with his helmet and scarf underneath, multiple shirts, and a sweater under his riding jacket, and thermals under the leather pants to keep his lower limbs warm, yet Cloud looked forward to arriving at work, which he usually did around midday, where he would hop into the familiar white and blue delivery van with its air conditioner, funky smell, worn leather seating, and sticky patches all over the dashboard caused by spilled coffee.

He lived about half an hours ride from work and arrived at the two-story brick warehouse in a business district of the sprawling metropolis. He rode around the back of the large, empty lot, to the garage capable of housing five vans and parked his bike near the wall. He left his helmet hanging on the handlebars and headed through the lofty loading zone, past the only vehicle still reminding (his own) and to the door and into the heated office space beyond. With a relieved sigh he pulled his gloves off and rubbed them together to regain feeling and warmth.

Tifa gave the usual teasing greeting of, "Hello, Cloud. Sleep well?" which forced a grumbled unintelligible retort from him. He headed straight for the left side of the sparsely decorated rectangular room. A long, mid-chest high cupboard stood along the wall with five color-coded plastic double-letter trays atop of it. This was their duty roster system. The top tray houses his schedule for the day, and the bottom one held his payslips and things of that nature. A large whiteboard hung on the wall right above the cupboard with each employee’s details demarcated to line up with their specific letter-trays.

He grabbed his sheet of paper, listing addresses and delivery times, and stalked off to the van, grabbing the held out travel mug which Tifa had filled with hot coffee. “Thanks,” he muttered while she smiled at him with amusement. Cloud counted his blessings that Tifa was understanding of his late starts to the day and his sporadic-yet-far-too-common absences.

Cloud sank into his familiar seat, leaving the bright pink folder on his lap and cradled his mug. It warmed his icy hands and as he slowly sipped the liquid it gave him the energy to recuperate from the arduous task of having woken up this morning and gotten himself out of bed. He skimmed over his list of jobs for the day at a casual pace, set his GPS and then headed off to get his workday underway.

His day consisted of a sizeable amount of pick-ups and drop-offs. Small and large parcels and goods alike. Usually, he’d radio Gavin or Therone to see if he could get more jobs, but today he felt extra drained so just stuck to what was on his sheet. He drove to familiar businesses and places, and some new locations. One of these was somewhat out of the way. Cloud took a left turn onto the freeway and headed out of the metropolitan area. The scenery grew ever more rural and then downright quaint; cows and horses dotted fields, small bakeries and one-pump gas stations came and went.

The road, though no less busy, lacked maintenance and pot-holes great and small peppered it. The place he was after was on the main road and turned out to be a giant greenhouse. He pulled into the large expansive gravel forecourt, and to his surprise found the car park almost completely full. People came and went, carrying gardening equipment and flowers of all sorts of shapes and colors. He pulled into a parking space, and got out, heading for the large glass structure. For being so out-of-the-way of the major population centers, it sure was bustling.

As Cloud entered through a set of glazed double doors, and then another set of automated sliding doors to get into the building proper, he was instantly accosted by the perfuming fragrant smell of flowers, as well as a very comfortable warmth. Winter didn’t touch this botanist’s wet dream and it almost felt tropical. Cloud sneezed. Repeatedly.

He was reminded that flowers weren’t his friends, though he could still appreciate the botanical marvel he found himself in. Flowers and plants of all shapes, sizes, species, and colors grew absolutely everywhere. A lot were set in pots, but an equal number were also growing seemingly right from out of the soiled and mulched ground. It smelled like earth and damp. Not a wholly unpleasant smell. It's just the flowers that got Cloud sniffling like crazy.

He still sneezed when a friendly voice sounded next to him, “Here. My flowers have that effect on some people.”

Cloud turned and took the held out tissue with a, “Thanks,” and blew his nose. Once back in control of his body's reflexes he looked at the short-in-stature woman who had spoken to him; her brunette hair was tied in a ponytail, with wavy bangs falling wall past her shoulders. Her eyes, a vibrant green, sparkle and seemed enhanced by the rusty red of her mid-waist length cardigan, which sat over the top of a blue and white striped blouse. Her look of a homey farm-girl was completed by the soiled, three-quarter denim trousers and big brown boots. “Your flowers?' Cloud asked, "Are you the owner?”

The woman grinned brightly and gave a curt nod. She looked around, with a lot of pride. “This place is my life’s work. Growing and cultivating plants of all types has always been my dream. And of course, sharing the joy this life brings with it.” Green eyes returned to settle on Cloud once more.

Cloud thought her rather pretty. He wasn’t sure if it was her features or her passion for her work. Whichever the case, she seemed rather too cheerful. “For a profit though,” he said, not caring to disguise the sardonic tone.

“Well of course. Girl’s gotta eat, right?” she laughed. “Name’s Aerith Gainsborough. Welcome to my greenhouse. How can I help you?”

She stuck out her hand and Cloud took it. “Cloud Strife. I’m here to pick up a delivery,” he said with little expression to his face. Being around jovial people exhausted him. He could already feel his energy draining away and mentally scanned his brain to see if he had passed any coffee shops on the way here.

“Oh, wonderful! I’ve been expecting you. Come this way.” She turned on a dime, her ponytail swinging wildly and marched with a slight bounce to her step.

Cloud followed.

“It’s such awful news what happened to Zack,” she began, rather worriedly. “I absolutely hate not being able to go see him, but I’m flat out here. So many weddings and government ceremonies to plan for. My own delivery guys are all booked up for the next few months, and the hospital is too far away for me to get to on such short notice,” she muttered somewhat defeated.

Despite not knowing what she was talking about, he reveled in seeing some of that cheer strip away from the woman. He possessed an inherent distrust of cheerful people, for cheer was a disguise best reserved for shop-front clerks who wanted to flog you something. It wasn’t for real-life, flesh-and-blood people. Real people had their own shit lives and problems to deal with. That’s what he told himself at least. He had always found it paid off to be wary of the too happy and enthusiastic. He could relate to the woman more in her slightly soured state though. Yet not too much to engage in actual conversation with her.

They made their way into a large shipping container, housed off to the side. This was apparently the office area if the desk with a computer sitting on it, and the various cork boards and whiteboards propped up on portable stands, meant anything. The other thing that Cloud spotted was the very elaborate bouquet sitting on the desk.

“Besides, I’m sure he’ll have far too many visitors for me to be able to spend any quality time with him.” Aerith reached the desk with the bouquet sitting on top of it and came to pause before it. She stretched out an arm as if steadying herself against the table.

The quiet which followed unsettled Cloud somewhat. The bubbly energy seemed depleted.

“Uh, is everything alright?” he tried, merely as a courtesy.

Cloud heard the sniffle, and saw the motion which could only be a wipe at eyes. Aerith turned around, cheeks ruddy and eyes glassy. She gave a weepy smile. “No. It’s not, but I hope it will be very soon. I really wish I could go be with him. He needs someone to look after him.” “I thought you said he was in hospital. Isn’t that—”

“He needs some love. Some care. From people who genuinely care about him. I know the hospital staff do their best, but they’re just staff.” She sniffled some more, grabbed the bouquet and walked it over to Cloud. “If it’s alright with you, I’d like for you to make regular flower deliveries for me. I don’t know if he’s conscious or not, but I want his room to be full of color. I want him to not feel alone. So please bring this to him.” She handed the surprisingly heavy item over. “And I’d also like for you to be my regular delivery guy. I don’t want Zack to have to put up with not getting to know you.”

Cloud grunted and pulled a face. “Getting to know me?”

“Yes. You’ll be my proxy.”

“I'm just a delivery guy. Not an… escort, or… friend for hire,” he said with unease. Cloud definitely hadn’t signed up for this.

“I know that. I'm not asking you to do anything other than deliver my flowers to him. But when you meet him I'm sure you won't be able to avoid having conversations with him.” Aerith’s growing smile faltered, and sadness swept through, robbing her of any mirth which might have burgeoned. “Oh gosh, let him be alright,” she said to no one in particular. “Tifa said it would be alright for you to check in on him regularly and to give me updates when you come to pick up the flowers.”

“Did she now?” Cloud said with derision and barely kept the eye roll at bay.

Aerith nodded and started walking back out into the main building, and Cloud continued to follow.

The pungent smell of flowers accosted Cloud once more as they made their way back to the front of the greenhouse. A sinking feeling grew. “You know Tifa personally?”

“Oh yes. We’ve been friends for years. She’s told me lots about you.” Aerith threw a cheeky smile over her shoulder, back at Cloud.

Without a doubt, this had all been an elaborate set-up. He let a defeated sigh slip out and wondered if this Zack guy was even an actual patient. “More like she complains about me to you.”

“Oh no. Nothing like that.” Her laugh was like the tinkling of bells.

Cloud still knew that it was exactly like that. “Well, she’s never made mention of you,” he sulked.

His remark made Aerith spin around. Her smile radiated ever so brightly. “I’m pretty sure she has and you just never listen to her,” she giggled and gently pushed her palm against his shoulder.

Cloud couldn’t refute that. It seemed like a very reasonable assumption.

“Anyway, can you just wait here a moment. This bouquet is missing something.” Aerith dashed off, leaving Cloud’s nose to develop another irritating tickle.

The pungent flower smells aside, he also knew this whole situation reeked of something, but he didn’t know what. Well, perhaps he did know. Of course Tifa purposefully sent him on this delivery run. She was always trying to get him to be more social and make friends. Something which Cloud had no interest in doing. He thought it cruel to force friendship upon him with some guy who sounded bedridden. And to be fair, he felt it equally awful to force himself onto other people. Cloud hoped that if this Zack guy truly was sick that he would get well soon. That way Cloud wouldn’t have to visit for very long, saving them both the agony of playing at a fake friendship.

Aerith returned holding a few brilliantly vibrant yellow flowers. She stuck them into the bouquet, which mostly consisted of blues and purples.

“There. Some much needed complementary opposites.” She stepped back from her creation and admired it. “I hope he’ll love it.” Worry returned to her face. “I hope he’s okay. Please tell him I’ll visit as soon as I can if he’s awake.” Aerith looked like she was going to say more but clapped her mouth shut and shook her head. “No. I won’t bombard you with any more. Everything I need to tell him is in the card. Please see to it that he receives the flowers, and I look forward to seeing you next time.”

Cloud gave her a courteous nod. “Next time, then.” He knew that no amount of complaining to Tifa would get him off this roster duty. She probably had also talked to everyone else at work to make sure he couldn’t swap delivery duties, that’s how crafty she was.

_____________

The hospital Cloud drove to was a familiar destination. He parked around the loading bay, avoiding the large conglomerate of media stationed out the front of the main entrance. The hustle and bustle out the front of the hospital, though not completely foreign, was still a little strange. Cloud wondered for all of two seconds what famous or newsworthy person had ended up inside before he refocused on his job. He grabbed the bouquet and marched himself inside, making his way to the nurses station, as Aerith apparently hadn’t known the exact location of the recipient of her gift. He had done a fair few deliveries to the different wards in the past, which was why a fair few of the regular staff knew him by sight and gave him acknowledging nods as he passed.

“Oh, those are lovely. Who are they for, darl?” an elderly and a rather plump woman greeted Cloud warmly as he stood by the imposing desk.

“Evening, Barbara.” Cloud didn't have many friends to speak of, but most people he came into somewhat regulate contact with were friendly enough with him, and he reciprocated as much as possible. It's not like he hated people. It had more to do with him being too tired and exhausted most of the time to exert energy into keeping friends around. “They are for a—” he looked at the attached card for the last name. “Zack Fair.”

“Oh. He’s a right popular chap. I wish they would have sent him to a different hospital, to be honest with you. Maybe Golden Oak or Edgewater. That media pack out the front is driving everyone here crazy.”

“What? All those people out there are here for him?” A sinking feeling swept through Cloud. He didn’t deal well with being in the limelight, not even via loose association.

The head nurse gave a sullen nod. “Them out the front aren’t even half of it. Military folks have been in and out of the ICU all day. Day shift have had it up to here,” she gestured well above her head, “with all the kafuffle.”

Barbara’s words caused a rush of irritation to flurry inside of Cloud. He wrinkled his nose. “Military?”

She hummed in the back of her throat and shuffled through some papers at her station. “Mr. Fair is military personnel, or I guess that should be Corporal Fair? Is that how those titles are supposed to work?”

It took everything in Cloud’s power not to dump the flowers and leave. “Don’t they have a military hospital for this kind of stuff?” he grumbled through grit teeth, already knowing that the answer was ‘yes’.

“Apparently it wasn’t good enough for the injuries he’s sustained. He’ll be needing long term care and rehabilitation, and they aren’t cut out for that.”

“Ah—that bad, huh?” Some of the irritation quelled with a wash of sympathy.

Barbara gave a solemn nod. “Here, darl. There has been nothing else on the news all day.” She directed her gaze toward a television mounted on the wall to the right of the desk and turned the volume up a little.

Cloud hadn’t watched the news in what felt like months. It was always too depressing. “They let you watch TV?”

“Only the news channels, so we can be atop of any breaking disasters or crisis as they unfold.”

“Ah. Seems sensible enough.” Cloud turned his attention toward the news coverage. It was a lot of body cam footage from a battlefield. People running, gunfire, all in a vastly ambiguous and completely rubble-filled landscape. Cloud didn’t know which war this was, or where it was. He tried his hardest to not pay attention to things of that nature.

The footage went on. Shaking imagery, snaps of stillness, the bottom of the screen covered in scrolling text. Images of fallen soldiers bombarded the screen, but amongst all of it someone came charging in and pulled the fallen out and to safety. Cloud couldn’t make out what was happening exactly, but he got the idea that it was always the same guy darting in and out of cover, to collect the fallen.

Cloud keyed into the faint sound of the news reporter saying something about bravery and selfless acts of courage.

The footage eventually cut to the outside of a familiar building; Phoenix Dessert Downs; the hospital Cloud was currently in.

“Poor fool got himself riddled with more bullets and shrapnel than all of the other men and women he saved. The field hospital got most of it out, and he’s had more blood transfusions than I’ve ever seen anyone else get, but they can’t give him the long term care he needs. Oh, Cloud. Don’t look so glum.”

Cloud startled somewhat and felt his face return to a more neutral position. “I’ll most likely be coming here often, to deliver flowers to him.”

“He’s got a sweetheart, hmm?” Barbara smiled. “Here, take this pass. It will get you through to ICU and past all the military,” she said, sounding exhausted.

“Military personnel can be a right handful,” he observed and gratefully took the pass.

“It’s what day shift have been complaining about the most,” she sighed deeply.

“Bet they’re glad to hand it over to you and your crew, huh.”

“You know night shift handles pressure and unwanted riff-raff better,” she winked.

“That you do,” he gave a small smile.

Cloud took his leave of the nurses station, feeling exhausted from the exchange, and wandered the halls toward ICU. He observed that there were indeed a lot of military personnel mingling around the halls; mostly camped out at the vending machines, which made Cloud realize just how run down and in need of something caffeinated he felt.

He detoured to a coffee machine and drank the burnt, bitter and old tasting brew with a scowl as he forged ahead. He showed his pass to the appropriate authorities and was let through to the ward.

Evening had fallen, and though the interior was brightly lit, the ward was rather hushed. Nursing staff came and went, tending to all the critical patients. Machines beeped and whirred. Quiet murmurs ran through the place like an electric undercurrent.

Cloud went in the direction he saw the most amount of people, confident that it was the room he was after. He stopped across the way and looked in through the glass windows, which lined the wall facing the ward. He recognized the high ranking officials uniforms. A lot of Sergeants of varying degrees. It was kind of impressive, but it also irritated Cloud. This whole situation was irritating and he didn’t think he’d like to make these flower deliveries a staple thing of his working day if this was what he had to walk into every time..

He finished his coffee, tossed it in the trash, breathed deep, and went into the room to get his delivery sorted.

The buzzing murmur of conversation grew marginally louder as he opened the door and let himself in, but then it ceased in a flash, as all eyes turned onto him.

Cloud hadn’t felt this uncomfortable since his last family get together. He swallowed down the nerves. “Delivery for Zack Fair, from a Miss Gainsborough.”

“Ah, Aerith, the sweet thing. Just put them over there. Zack will be happy to see them if he eventually wakes up,” someone, who appeared to be a Sergeant Major, said to him.

The ‘if’ wasn't lost on Cloud. He gave a curt nod and weaved through the small crowd toward the bed at the center of the room. He could make out a seemingly sleeping figure in the bed. His head was bandaged up and gauze was plastered to his cheek. Wires and tubes were attached all over the man and ran in all manner of directions; some hooked up to monitoring equipment and all kinds of drips filled with clear fluids, but also bags of blood.

Cloud looked for somewhere to put the flowers. Here was a small tray table next to the bed, which was covered in bouquets and cards. More bouquets sat on a chair, and others lined the wall to the left of the bed. Clearly, this guy wouldn’t need any more flowers. He wondered if he could convince Aerith that the hospital room was colorful enough already, and could thus spare himself the trip out here and most of all back here.

He supposed he would have no such luck, and instead busied himself making room on the small tray table for Aerith’s flower arrangement (which, if Cloud had to admit, was one of the nicest in the room). He positioned the card so it would also be seen if this guy ever woke up. Cloud figured himself lucky to get out of conversing with him today. Was it cruel to hope he’d never have to make conversation with this guy?

Probably.

He looked back at the broken man lying in the bed. The bandaged head slumped toward Cloud’s direction and the man’s eyes seemed to be open a small crack.

Cloud looked back toward everyone else in the room, but no one was paying attention; too busy talking about tactical information; what to do about the remaining company and what honors to bestow upon the survivors, because Cloud was apparently not important enough to not talk about that kind of stuff in front of.

Cloud didn’t get what everyone was in here for if it wasn’t to help support a fallen comrade. So he decided that they probably just wanted to feel important and were here for some other self-serving purpose.

He turned back toward Zack and quietly murmured, “From Aerith. She’s worried about you, and is sorry that she can’t be here right now.”

Eyes slipped shut and it was barely visible, but Cloud thought he saw the ghost of a smile.

He turned and left, wondering if it would be a problem that he didn’t get the delivery signed off. He didn’t care enough about it to get one from any of the Sergeants in the room, especially not when he heard a faint, “Does General Strife have a kid?" pass through the gap in the door just as he shut it.

He got out of there as fast as possible, finished his other jobs through fatigue gnawing at him. Tifa asked how his day had been when he came back to delivery the van and invoices. He didn’t give her more than a grunting reply before heading back out, hopping on his bike and racing back home so he could collapse on his bed and sleep.

_____________

Aerith asked for a flower arrangement to be sent every second day, which at least gave Cloud rest in between to not stress about having to be in a wholly unpalatable environment. Despite only passing through and lingering in the place for 20 minutes at most, those were still 20 minutes he would rather never have to endure in the first place. But when he saw Aerith again to pick up the next delivery, her gratitude melted Cloud’s displeasure. His heart grew heavier with each passing day that he couldn’t tell her that the man she was so worried about still hadn’t woken up yet, both for her and himself.

He detested the hospital run. It stressed him out and stress legitimately was no good for him. As the first week of doing this job passed, Cloud could feel himself becoming unwell. He always got sick when he was highly stressed, and going to the hospital was a toxic cocktail of stress for him. It didn’t matter how well he organized himself; going in at 6 o’clock at night when there were fewer media and military sleazeballs lurking about. The late deliveries didn’t let him completely escape run-ins with the military. He took to wearing a baseball cap, pulled down over his face, but he could still feel the lingering eyes and hear the too-loud whispering rumors that he was who they all thought he was and everything that came with that territory.

Each day he heard something else; ‘Did you hear he couldn't even finish basic training?’; in the hallway; ‘Did you hear he got special treatment?’; the elevator; ‘Did you hear his parents pulled strings?’; the coffee station; ‘Did you hear he slept with a General?’; passing the door into the bedridden man’s room; ‘Did you hear he got spoon-fed the entrance exam questions?’.

Each day the well of his resentment grew exponentially deeper.

He tried to ignore, to not hear, to pretend he imagined it all. He went about his job, hurrying in and out of the hospital, sometimes seeking refuge at the hot coffee dispenser to refocus himself and get a caffeine hit to stop him from falling asleep behind the wheel, especially as these hospital visits completely drained him. Cloud hated having to be here. Hated the military. Himself. The bed-ridden source of his misery.

Why, out of all the hospitals in the world and in particular this city, did apparent poster boy have to land in this one? Not that Cloud supposed it mattered much since Tifa somehow knew Aerith and both ladies apparently loved pushing their own agendas onto himself.

He kept doing his assigned job though because Tifa (predictably) had put an embargo on anyone taking or swapping that particular job off Cloud. It did not help his mood or physical health. He could feel the onset of the cold and the day after having been stuck in an elevator with 3 military goons who had recognized him, as he had done basic training with two of them close to a decade ago, he crashed and couldn’t get out of his bed when his alarm went off at 11 in the morning. He couldn’t face another day of doing that job, even though today, most likely, he wouldn’t have to go to the hospital. The weeklong process of going through the hospital halls, seeing uniformed personnel, had completely sapped him of his already minimal pool of energy and it crescendoed today, so he slept the day and the next away.

Tifa rang several times, checking in on Cloud, which he appreciated.

"I'm sorry, am I pushing you too hard? I can reduce your workload to five runs a day."

"Do I still need to cover the hospital?"

Silence greeted him for a few beats, "Is it really stressful for you?"

Cloud felt like such a pathetic weakling. Suddenly a surge of needing to ‘suck it up’ raced through him. "No. I think being around all the sick people is just making me sick. I’ll be okay in another day… I think.”

“Take as long as you need. Felix is doing the hospital runs for now. If you think it would be better for your health not to—” “No, really. I’ll be fine. Just give me back my usual runs when I’m back.”

“Okay.” Cloud hated his strong sense of duty.

_____________

Cloud returned to work and did his best to ignore the people around him. He went even later to the hospital, just to be on the safe side and as much as possible hid behind the flower arrangements he carried, especially when it came to the guard who was stationed at the door. Cloud still felt worn out by the almost daily ordeal but, with a sardonic huff, decided to soldier on.

As the weeks passed, he learned more about his comatose burden through the media. Nothing about the operation he had been involved in though, as that was deemed highly sensitive. He wasn’t one to watch the news, but found himself watching it now, just to get some information, especially when he heard conversations with phrases like 'such a shame’, 'cut down in his prime, ‘it's all too bad’, as he passed by people in the hospital.

He learned about all the honors, achievements, and military pursuits of the spirited young man who now lay unmoving and in a critical condition in a sterile hospital bed with intubators, drips, catheters and various other devices attached to himself. Cloud could appreciate the sadness of it, the tragedy of what had befallen this man, especially since the reports said he had worked tirelessly at saving his comrades and single-handedly kept the squad’s Sergeant alive.

It dawned on him one day while standing there in the empty darkened room, surrounded by the staggering amount of flowers, that it almost felt like he was visiting a crypt. Yet there also sat awe in this place, because he bore witness to this barely-there military man, fighting and struggling for his life, even in this perfect stillness, which was punctured by the rasping breath through the oxygen mask and the soft sound of machinery in the background. The monument of decaying flowers, deflating balloons, knocked over 'get well's cards all spoke of one thing: the love of the people; those he had saved, those who knew him, the general public; they adored him and what he represented. Unwavering spirit, devotion, sacrifice, martyrdom. It was like the flowers were a farewell.

Cloud stared at that physically manifested concept every time he stood in the room, trying to find a place for one more flower arrangement. One more tribute to lay at the foot of the living memorial. It left a sour taste in Cloud’s mouth. He understood that this man had been deemed a 'go-getter’ by his superiors. A real 'people person’ by his peers. Someone who had always joked and make sure all his comrades and anyone under and even above himself had been okay, which was what had made him such a great Corporal—had made him. All those things were now relegated to the past, a memory, a dream. And all for what…. Cloud got stuck on that thought and with pure derision, muttered, “Look where all that love and affection has gotten you. You’re stuck here, all alone, in a room full of dead things. And the public and military can’t even wait for you to be properly dead before turning your room into a grave.” Admittedly Cloud was having a rather glum sort of a pensive day.

He kept delivering flowers, kept watching the news late at night when he couldn’t sleep, despite being utterly physically and mentally exhausted. And he listened on the radio while driving his van. It was never anything terribly meaningful or insightful. All events from the battlefield, reports on casualties, and anything pertaining to the mission which had landed the man Cloud visited on an almost daily basis in the hospital, was barely forthcoming. The operation was still deemed too sensitive and top secret. So all the media could report on was Zack Fair.

Cloud felt somewhat entrapped by the man he had been made to visit. Zack Fair turned into a morbid oddity and curiosity; a form of Stockholm Syndrome perhaps. A trainwreck Cloud was glued to witnessing. He wondered if Zack would ever wake up. He wondered what the man was actually really like. He doubted anyone would ever speak badly of the man or call him out on any asshole-ish behavior while he was in such an in-between life and death state of existence. He couldn’t buy that this guy was so amazing, wonderful, kind, fun. Sure, he sounded nice and like the exact type of person, Cloud avoided in his life. It sounded like a real shame for Corporal Fair to not recover from this. But maybe it also really wasn’t. Who knew? Cloud sure as hell didn’t, and wouldn’t know what the actual reality of the matter was unless the dead rose from his coma.

Cloud tried to not lose any more sleep over it and pushed his wonderings away, focusing on the job at hand, which in the end led him right back to the hospital, standing before his charge, staring down at him, thinking a myriad of conflicting thoughts. In the end, he always decided he didn’t care. He was getting paid. It was just the damn military personnel that got under his skin and made this the worst part of his day. He resented coming here. Hated that the comatose guy didn't just wake up, freeing Cloud of his obligations.

"You're one hell of a selfish son of a bitch," Cloud muttered another day, after having caught a half-heard conversation between the military personnel stationed outside of the door, bemoaning their station over having to watch and guard against media entry. "But keep giving them Hell out there," Cloud finished with a smile, liking the discomfort being inflicted on people who resented having to look after someone who apparently did crazy brave things, like sticking his neck out for other people. Cloud supposed the extra resentment outside might have something to do with a new spate of news that he had caught last night.

"You know you got a bunch of medals? I don't know if anyone's been in to inform you, but… congratulations," Cloud said with bitter amusement as he set the flowers down on the tray table. "You got a Medal of Honor, a Distinguished Service Cross, and a Silver Star Medal. You're one impressive guy, Corporal Fair." He bent down to look Zack in his more-akin-to-dead-than-alive face. His eyes trailed over the bandaged forehead, the patch over his left cheek, the mask covering his nose and mouth to help him breathe.

"Hope it was worth being like this, man." Cloud was greeted with the even breathing, the whirring of machines, and the faint beep of the heart rate monitor.

He stood back up and left the room.

_____________

There came a point, somewhere around the 1-month mark of Cloud having started on his hospital delivery route, that things seemed to change a little. He arrived at the comatose man’s room to find the oxygen mask off and a considerable amount of equipment gone. The mountain of flowers also looked smaller and a more sensible amount. Cloud tested the room with a faint, “Hello?” but received no reply. He went over to the bed, warily inspecting the other man, who looked gaunt and pale, but a lot better for not having all that equipment and tubing attached to himself.

There was no motion, other than an even fall of the chest, and generally speaking, the man looked like he had always done while lying in this bed. Cloud left the flowers and headed out, catching Barbara before leaving.

“How is Zack doing? He’s no longer on the oxygen mask.” “He is doing a lot better, yes. His independent breathing improved so he doesn't need the respirator.” She wasn’t willing to give much more information than that, so Cloud left to return the van and go home to sleep, which came a little easier to him that night.

It was also roughly around the 1-month mark that Cloud began enjoying his trips to the hospital a little, especially on rough days because an almost comatose person couldn't give him any flack for not arriving precisely, to the second, on time. They weren’t going to back-chat or give him the stink-eye. Other than the military being everywhere, Cloud relaxed considerably when coming here every second day. The walk through the hall was uncomfortable but he would grab an awful cup of coffee, hurry to his target’s location, not even be acknowledged by the security anymore as Cloud was as good as the bland decor around the hospital, and dumped the flowers wherever he found space. He then sat down in the uncomfortable guest chair and peacefully drank his burnt coffee.

That routine and place almost became like a sanctuary. Sure, he had to traverse Hell to get to it, but it was pleasant when he got there. He found it nice to not be in a mad rush, nice not having to do small talk. And then two weeks after the respirator had come out, the military finally, for the most part, departed. Things were getting even better for Cloud.

One day, he had been in a frantic rush the entire day due to massive traffic congestions absolutely everywhere he had to get to. Exhausted and starved he grabbed whatever looked least offensive at the hospital cafeteria and made his way to the ICU. Once he had deposited yet another exquisite bouquet, he slumped into the guest chair, which had been cleared of flowers a while ago, and relaxed with a deep sigh.

“God, what a day from hell,” he bemoaned and after a few beats of breathing and quiet, he sat up straight and opened his styrofoam food container.

“I’m sure you don’t mind me eating in here, right?” Cloud glanced at the only other occupant of the room. “I mean, I do bring you all these flowers, and I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who regularly visits. So, if you’re not going to thank me, the least you could afford me is to let me use you like a tray table, huh.”

Cloud looked at the way the body in the bed lay almost lifeless. A steady beating and shallow rise and fall of the chest were the only signs of life.

Taking the prolonged silence as permission, Cloud dug into his meal. Was it strange talking to an unconscious person? It didn’t feel any stranger than talking to himself late at night. It was about as enlightening, but he weirdly enough did enjoy the idea of another set of ears listening, without receiving dumb and pointless input.

“You’re not missing out on much with this food,” Cloud informed as he chewed. “Too dry and rubbery. But food’s food. And bad burnt coffee is still caffeine.” He took a sip, scrunched up his face and placed the cup carefully onto the bed before himself.

He ate the rest of his meal in silence, mulling over his schedule. When he was done he tidied up and got up. “Well, it was fun, Zack. It’s okay if I call you Zack, right? Or you prefer Sergeant Fair? All your new fancy medals aside, you also got a promotion, y’know?” Cloud looked and got no response. “Zack it is then. See ya later.” And with that he left, feeling far more energized after a meal and some liquid energy.

_____________

Cloud kept coming because Aerith kept ordering flower arrangements to be delivered. He lingered ever longer in that room, finding it oddly meditative. Zack's silent company reminded Cloud of his old family dog, and as Cloud sat in the chair, thinking about it, he almost reached over to pay the comatose man's head. He caught himself though and chuckled about it.

He wondered more and more about the man he was tasked with 'keeping company,' for he did keep him company more often than not. With the military gone, bar for a patrol here and there and the occasional door check, the hospital had a far more relaxed atmosphere, and Cloud found himself less drained and ready to crash by the time he got home. He figured if he was going to stay up anyway, he might as well do it whilst in someone's company.

Cloud sat and used this hospital room as his private dining hall, eating evening meals he had picked up from the cafeteria or from a fast food joint outside. He also sometimes checked his phone while he ate, reading articles, playing games. It was nice and quiet, just how he liked it. And while he did these things he also cast glances over to the sleeping man. The glances turned to gazes, where he studied the man's face and the way his chest rose and fell, shallow and at rest.

Sometimes he got stuck in his head, replaying all that he knew of the other man and all he had seen on the TV. It was a peaceful, quiet evening in early spring. He had a tray of hospital food in his lap, his phone in one hand and a spork in the other when the thoughts that bothered him the most fell out of his mouth in a hushed tone, “What kind of food do you like, Zack? Bet the answer isn't hospital food,” he muttered whilst putting another forkful of green mush into his mouth.

Predictably, there was no response.

“I know what school you went to. I know how hard you worked to get to where you were. I vaguely know about the mission you were on when this happened to you—that’s all the news talks about. Well, they also talk about how whatever you were involved with is still highly top secret so the public isn’t allowed to know the specific details of it. It's been nearly 2 months now since you landed here, and who knows how much time you spent in the field hospital before you were brought here. Smells like a cover-up, if you ask me. I hope you’re not gonna be like some scapegoat for them,” that thought riled Cloud up, but he tried to relax and changed the subject, “But anyway, all that stuff in the media doesn’t actually answer the real questions I have, like what’s your favorite color? Why did you think that mullet was a good look for you in high school? Yeah, the news channels love pulling out that photo of you in your yearbook.”

More silence greeted him and Cloud also fell silent again.

He kept his visitations up, he kept asking Zack random things, but got bored of not having anything answered and soon ran out of things he wondered about without repeating himself. So instead, he used Zack as a way to vent his frustrations with work, and some of the people he had to engage with.

“Did you know that Mr. Storgeno wanted all blue cocktail umbrellas? Well, I didn't either, until he opened up the box right in front of me and started complaining about it. Like I packed that box myself and purposefully put green and red umbrellas into the packet, just to spite him. Kinda wish I had,” he finished in a mutter.

He had many more stories to tell about how he—the messenger—got shot, in the proverbial sense. Venting like this made Cloud feel lighter every time he left the hospital at the end of his day.

That was Cloud’s life; struggle to wake in the mornings, struggle to stay awake in the day during work, dealing with pleasant and unpleasant people alike, and then dropping by the hospital on the days it was on his roster, to chill out before going home where he’d have a battle to shut off in order to get a good night’s sleep.

The days and weeks passed. The military continued their stance of keeping quiet to protect national interests, and so, public interest diminished. The media in front of the hospital dwindled, there were no more sensational headlines, and news of Zack Fair faded into the background and complete obscurity as the months Zack spent in hospital turned to 3.

Cloud still caught sight of the occasional military uniform, much to his chagrin. He managed to avoid them mostly, and came and went undetected as Zack’s security didn’t seem very dedicated to their job, especially as the public no longer had any interest in the man stuck in the ICU ward.

It was one unremarkable evening; Cloud had finished all his deliveries, bar one. Exhaustion clung to him, weighing him down. He went to the coffee station on his way to Zack’s room, pulling his hat over his face as he passed the goons, who stood near the coffee station, cups in hands.

“Did ya hear that they’re gonna continue paying him an on-active-duty wage? The guy’s barely alive from what I’ve seen,” grumbled a burly military man into his cup of coffee.

“And here we are, gettin’ paid less than the guy we are here to guard. Just makes ya wanna spit,” the smaller of the two men responded.

“I’ll tell ya what, Biggs, if I were in charge of the budget I’d find better things to spend it on. Why’s he even need all this special attention? Stick him in the public sector. My sister-in-law’s a nurse over at the fifth district. Says they have all the same equipment.” “The big wiggs gotta put on a show. Make it look like they actually give a shit about their employees. Makes for a hella PR stunt.”

“Ya don’t think the whole thing was a setup to begin with, do ya?”

"No clue. They tell us jack shit."

Cloud had enough. He slapped on a lid for his coffee rather violently and spilling nearly half his drink. Hissing, he grabbed for napkins to mop up the mess and dry himself off a little. He felt eyes on himself and lowered his head, as well as turning away slightly. He unfortunately still heard it though—

"Ya heard the rumors that General Strife’s son doing deliveries around here, haven’t ya?"

Cloud's nostrils flared.

"Deliveries…” a derisive laugh followed. "Is that the only thing that kid's good for? If that was my son I’d be disappointed. I heard everyone in that family has some foot in the army. To be doing deliveries," disappointed tutting followed.

"I know what ya mean."

The voices sounded louder as if directed at Cloud. He threw the soiled napkins in the bin and rushed off, coffee and bouquet in each hand, heading down the hall and away from the muttonheads.

He barged into Zack’s room, dumped the bouquet at the foot of the bed and started pacing.

“How dare those jerks talk about you like that. After all you did. This is what I hate. The backstabbing, two-faced bullshit. Being treated like a number and a burden!"

He was in full swing—pacing around the room and fuming. “I can see it in their smug, douchey faces, you know. The derision. The pity. I don't need anyone's pity. I never asked for anyone's pity. And they throw that same shit at you. At least you can't see or hear it. You're a national hero, but they try to brush you off like you don't exist. Like you're broken. That's what they all do, you know. If you don't cut it they cut you off, and let you go." Cloud stomped, his hands flew around wildly gesticulating as he kept ranting, "They love nothing more than to hammer home what an epic disappointment you are to the whole fucking family,” he slammed his fist into the wall with a low growl. The pain radiated up his arm. It helped to sober him up and cool him off a little. He breathed furiously and stared at the wall, which had become rather blurry through the tears welling up in his eyes.

He listened to the buzzing of machinery in the room. His ragged breathing and the steady beeping of Zack’s heart rate monitor cut through the slight ringing in his ears. Yet the beeping sounded a fraction faster than what it had been before.

“Sorry,” Cloud muttered and turned back to face the room. He stared at Zack's unchanging body for a while before he shuffled back toward the comatose man. Picking up the bouquet as he went, he sank down into the now-familiar chair and placed the flowers on the table where he should have put them to begin with. “I hate it, y’know. I hate what you do and the organization you work for. And if you were to wake up right now—well, I'd hate to think that I’d probably hate you too.” His heart felt heavy. Most of all he hated that it was the truth. As upset as he felt right now, he wasn’t saying this to be vindictive; nothing but honesty left his mouth.

He gave a hard stare at the man on the bed before him. His face was turned away, and Cloud thought it for the best as he spoke in a slow, semi-whisper, “A part of me hopes you won’t pull through.” He cast eyes to the floor. He felt awful admitting it. “I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be doing this. And most of all, I don’t wanna know you because… because if I got to actually know you through something other than the media, I'd probably end up really liking you. It's easy to hate you when they espouse you to be the poster child of the military. I don't want to like you. I don't want to hate you. Fuck, I don't know." Cloud clutched his head, flinging off his hat and rubbing at his hair furiously. "I don't mean that. I'd rather think the best of you, really. But…" he sighed, "you also don't seem like someone I would ever get along with. Everyone seems to love you—I mean, I don't think I've ever seen a room so full of flowers and get-well wishes on cards. You know, the cleaners have to clear out your room once a week to stop this place from becoming a jungle? That's how much people like you. I mean, I don't know if they are from personal friends and family, but… it doesn't even matter. It’s been three months and you still get so much love showered your way. You're like an amazing poster child. The media made it sound like you were a prodigy; super good at your job; such a bright future ahead of you. That's what I hear the shitheads outside say about you too—the ones who envy you. That's what it is, you know, jealousy and envy. And I know because…” he huffed. “But here you are, nearly dead. Bet no one envies that.. Bet they wouldn't have the guts to be the kind of guy you were—are. I don't even know whether you're dead or alive. All I know is that you're everything I hate in a person. You're everything I wish I could have been. Shit. I don't know. I'm just ranting, ignore me." Cloud sat up straight and replaced his hat.

With a heavy sigh, he continued, “It’s a pretty shit way to feel about someone, especially since I don't even know you. Look, I guess all I know is that from everything I've seen and heard, you sound… really irritating. I guess it’s not the fairest assessment to be making about a person.” Cloud, leaning back down to rest his forearms on his thighs, knit his fingers together and stared at his hands. “I probably sound like a real asshole. I guess I am. And to be honest, if you woke up and I found out you were somewhat of an asshole, that would make me like you more. It would give you a redeemable quality.” Cloud huffed out some sad amusement and looked up at the man he had just admonished. “Or maybe I want you to be an ass so I can feel better about myself.”

He righted himself from where he had slumped. “But all that being said… I actually kind of do hope you pull through. I’m not evil. Or maybe I am.” Cloud cast a glance toward the currently frosted-over privacy windows that looked into the ICU ward. “I want you to prove everyone out there wrong. It’s disgusting the derisive pity and platitudes they all spout. I'm sure you deserve better than that. I'm sure you don't need their shit.” Cloud sighed and picked up the coffee cup he had set down amongst the bouquets. He took a sip and grimaced. “And I'm also pretty sure I deserve better coffee than this.” He aimed and threw the cup toward the bin near the door. He hit his mark and collected himself so he could walk out of the room with an air of aloofness.

“Anyway, good chat, I guess. See you later.”

_____________

Deciding he didn't want to take on his colleagues workload, as he felt rather run down, he arrived very early in the afternoon at the hospital. Cloud wandered down the hospital hall, carrying another bouquet to its usual destination and felt rather anxious. The thought of how long it had actually been since his delivery recipient had landed in the ICU began bothering him. The fact that Zack was still in the same state as the first day Cloud had done his delivery grew disconcerting for him. Yes, the man didn’t need a machine anymore to help him breathe; yes, several more of the intensive care equipment had slowly been moved out of the room, but Zack was still there. Was he brain-dead? Was he improving? Cloud tried to not think about the other man too much, but lately it ate into his sleep and he could feel the onset of another unwell period settling in. He hated how he could practically feel himself slipping into the prodromal phase of his condition. He needed to get some good sleep tonight if he hoped to not crash and burn in the morning. So he stopped by the nurse's station to see if he could get some information.

“Evening Simon,” he said of the man dressed in dark scrubs and a hazel complexion.

“Hi, Cloud. That's another very lovely bouquet you got there.”

“Aerith is a master when it comes to this stuff. I don't think any of the ones I've brought in have been the same.”

“I think you're right. But what can I do for you? You don't make a habit of stopping by for a chat.”

“Ah, just wanted to know how Zack was doing. He's still in the ICU after all this time. That doesn't seem right. Will he be okay?”

Simon looked past Cloud to where Zack's room was. “Considering how on a knife's edge he was, he's doing remarkably well. He's been such a delight, it's almost a shame that we'll be moving him next week.”

Cloud stared, baffled by everything the other man has just said. “He's being moved?”

“Yeah. Getting his own private area, up on the fifth floor of the residential rehabilitation wing. It’s pretty nice up there.”

“Wouldn't he be better off staying down here?”

“No. He's out of imminent danger. Plus, he’s been asking to be moved for the last two weeks.”

“A-asking? But he's out cold.” A sinking feeling grew.

Simon looked confused. “He's been pretty vocal. For someone in his shape, he's been remarkably upbeat these past few weeks. You don’t know that he’s awake?”

If it were possible to feel sea-sick on land, Cloud experienced it at that moment. “No.” The nurse hummed. “Maybe you keep coming in when he's sleeping?”

Cloud really hoped that was what was going on, but his brain went to the worst-case scenario; mocking betrayal. “Yeah. Must be it.”

Cloud took his leave and headed to the room. The windows were frosted over for privacy. As he approached a man with raven hair, and a woman with ebony curls, and an olive complexion, exit the room. They didn't appear to be the regular military personnel; wearing casual clothes as the sting of winter had gone.

As the parties passed each other the woman stopped Cloud in his tracks. “Excuse me, are those for my son?”

Cloud looked toward Zack's room and back at the couple, both of which were a good five inches taller than himself. “A delivery for Zack Fair.”

The man and woman gave him big, good-natured smiles.

“So you must be Cloud,” she said.

Strangers knowing his name always unnerved him. “Ahhh, yeah—that's me,” he answered warily. Cloud had his hand taken and shaken in turn by both of them.

“We can't thank you enough for keeping our son company. We know that it means a lot to him.”

Indignation started to build, but he kept his cool. “There's nothing to thank me for.”

“Oh, come now. Don't be so modest,” the rather-fit-for-a-middle-aged man said, smiling broadly. He clapped Cloud on the shoulder.

“You have been such a great help to our Zack. Thank you,” the woman looked to want to pull Cloud into a hug, but the flowers he held seemed to dissuade her, to Cloud’s relief.

“If we can ever repay you for the kindness, please let us know,” the man said.

“Oh, n-no, that’s not… I’m just doing my job,” Cloud stammers lightly.

He received more warm smiles an ‘thank you’s before the woman urged, “Dear, we should be leaving, and let Cloud get on with his work.”

“Right, right. Thank you again for looking after our son.”

With that the couple hurried off, leaving Cloud staring at the now offending room before himself. He thought about not going in. He'd obviously been played. But he had a job to do, so he inhaled sharply and ventured forward.

On opening the door he was greeted by a wholly unfamiliar voice, “Hey, mom, pop did you—”

Cloud stood in the doorway, glaring daggers

The bright smile vanished even before the sheets were flung over the bedridden man's head and the lump under the blanket shuffled flat against the mattress. Faux snoring sounded moments later.

Cloud stood and his hard-as-steel glare broke at the ridiculousness of the scene playing out before him. It might have been amusing if Cloud wasn’t getting red hot with anger and embarrassment.

He closed the door behind himself and moved toward the bed, a frown playing on his lips. He went to the bed and dropped the flowers on the tray table, making the flimsy plastic rattle. “Another bouquet from Aerith,” was his business-as-usual greeting.

Cloud received no response other than the snoring quieting down a little. He glared and made a snap decision. “I’m not coming back here.” Humiliation burned. Cloud turned to flee the situation and feelings. He’d rather quit his job than make one more delivery to this place. He was going to tell Tifa as much.

“No, Cloud. I’m sorry. I’m an asshole, I know. But that’s why you should stay,” came the hasty and guilty admission in a low, rusty timbre.

Cloud stopped before he reached the door. Without turning back he agreed with the man, “You are an asshole.”

“But it’s my redeemable feature, right?” Zack laid out gently.

It took all of Cloud’s energy to keep his body from trembling with outrage and mortification. How long had this bastard been faking it? “Does Aerith know that you’re awake?” he got out through grit teeth, wanting to know how deep this farcical ruse went.

A few beats of silence. And then, “She visited last week,” came the muttered response.

The outrage erupted. An actual growl rumbled in the back of CLoud’s throat. Through grit teeth, he snapped, “And?”

“Aaaand—we talked and had a really nice time,” came the small, chastened voice.

Cloud huffed, sharply. His clenched fist trembled and his heart hammered. The flash of heat inside his body sprang to his cheeks. He thought he could die from embarrassment. She had known. He had seen her this late morning and she had said nothing to him. He didn’t know who he was madder at. “Good luck with your life,” he spat over his shoulder, without looking at the bane of his existence, and marched to the door.

“I’m so sorry,” came the plea. “Please don’t leave. Let me ex—”

Cloud slammed the door behind himself and hurried out, ignoring any looks or questions of concern he received. His whole body trembled with burning outrage by the time he got to the car. He couldn’t go back to work to drop the van off. He couldn’t face Tifa without snapping at her and unleashing all his anger at her, because she must have known as well.

Cloud went home and passed out in his bed.

#clack #zakkura #FFVII Modern AU #fanfic #sneakpeek #first chapter #hospital #military #cloud strife #zack fair #tifa lockhart #aerith gainsborough

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creatorofclay · 5 years

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Private/By request only for any long form RP and any sort of friendships or romantic ships. Everything with her should be discussed before hand to help me out. (Chloe isn't as straight as Elijah, so anyone is welcome. Chloe is welcoming to all love and new to relationships outside of her home. Just bear in mind courting her means dealing with Elijah to some extent)

Asks to Chloe are open to EVERYONE. You need only specify if it is for her. Asks by default are answered by Elijah.

I will not rp Chloe with any Elijah blog at all. This is because her personality is based very heavily on Elijah’s, and my portrayal of him naturally, so it won’t make much sense for her to be one way when other Elijah’s are not the same as mine. (@repliicantceo is the only exception because Eli and Elliot are not actually Elijah)

Chloe was meant to have her own set of tags, but I've changed my mind about that lmao All interactions will still be tagged either Elijah ic or Chloe ic. She will still have her own musing and aesthetic tags

When it comes to shipping…

I am multi-verse and multi-ship, however I will only ship with female muses.

All romance will only be with those over 18 please.

I ship chemistry above all else. If you feel like our characters could have something, let me know! We can talk it out to see how it would go! And also at the same time, I encourage you to follow on if your muse has a crush. Unrequited drama can be very interesting.

Be aware that if you include yourself into a verse with a certain muse I already ship with, there will be drama and choices will have to be made. All interactions are default verse Elijah unless specified otherwise.

That being said... I am also open to poly-shipping if it interests you~

Mun

My name is Ash, I’m 26, she/her pronouns, and I (still, i know) have a deep love for Detroit: Become Human.

My primary RP blog in the fandom was Simon for months, but, Kamski has always been an interesting character to me. He’s exactly the kind of villain/antagonist that I really like. Mysterious, ulterior motives, and fascinated by the main character in some way.

I am incredibly shy, but I’ve been trying to come out of my bubble, but, don’t be afraid to approach me with something if you want. Even if its just to ramble about something in your life or a headcanon you came across. I love it all.

I have a discord, it is much easier to reach me there. Just ask me for it. I am always online on mobile, don’t let the offline status fool you.

Verses/Timelines found here!!!

History

muse relationships here!

Elijah Kamski was born on July 17th, 2002. He attended the Universirty of Colbridge at a young age and was a bright pupil to Amanda Stern. After graduating at the age of 16, he went on to found CyberLife, moving to Detroit to begin his research into creating domestic intelligent androids. It took years to develop his formula for thirium, but he was finally able to use it the way he wished.

In 2022, his android became the first to pass the Turing Test. Kamski’s thirium 310 solution proved to the world that the artificial beings were ready to move to production. The original, RT600 model, became Kamski’s star, and one he treasured. She was his personal assistant as he worked to create more and more androids, watching his company grow.

His status and company grew and grew, creating a name for himself and putting androids in every home, workplace, and office they could. He was proud of his work, but he always had a curiosity with more. He wondered if the machines he created could someday develop their own consciousness like the sci-fi novels he so loved growing up. Could it really be so easy as a single thought or number change? What if his own Chloe became her own person? Would she stay or would she leave him? Could she be her own person in the real world?

All of his questions couldn’t be answered before his mentor from his university, and good friend, Amanda Stern passed away in early 2027. With her help, he had been trying to answer his own questions, but, both of their busy schedules, along with her sudden illness, got in the way. Kamski was devastated, but, luckily he had a few good friends, including a painter who came to be better known in the 2020’s.

Determined to prove his theory about the consciousness of machines, Kamski proposed to his company the idea of sparking an android revolution. He already had the pieces needed, the perfect leader and a space to control it should things get out of hand. But, the executives didn’t like the idea. They thought he had lost his mind with his grief and was just seeking other outlets. But, sparking an android revolution without any real way to stop it was a terrible idea for business. They old Kamski maybe he just needed a break from it all, give himself time to grieve on his own time. Kamski took the action to heart as a betrayal and stepped down from his position.

He continued to work for the company for a year or so, working on his side project in secret. During this period, he retrofitted his “perfect leader” instead to be a caretaker for his dear friend after he was in an accident. No longer worrying about trying to spark the revolution, he left the programs needed for it inside him, but, took away his connection to the main program he would need to control it.

Finally deciding to officially leave the company, Kamski took his original RT600 he built, as well as a couple ST200s, to keep him company as he isolated himself from the world in his home. His house was built on the edge of the lake, overlooking the peninsula that the CyberLife tower was built on. He saw fit to still keep watch on his old company, if only for curiosity’s sake…

As for Chloe herself…

The RT600 spends her days at Elijah’s side, caring for him and making sure his life doesn’t fall apart. With a personality penned by Elijah Kamski himself, she resembles her creator in more ways than one. She can be just as clever, just as sneaky, and is absolutely protective of those she cares for. A loyal machine with the freedom of a deviant, but she’d never truly leave Elijah.

(To be updated if necessary)

#mobile rules #clay is in the kiln // ooc

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mittensmorgul · 7 years

Text

For the first time in weeks, I had exactly zero messages, anon or otherwise, asking me about the new episode. Let me say, I feel y’all’s apathy. There were a few things that are worth mentioning, though.

First of all I AM THRILLED THAT GAVIN WAS RESTORED TO HIS PROPER TIMELINE. As to HOW and WHY and all the rest of the details surrounding Gavin’s return... I’m just gonna...

BUT IT IS DONE. I am more than willing to just close my eyes to the timey-wimey bullshit fixing their original problem dredged up. It’s just gonna give me a migraine trying to sort through this problem. I just... can’t be fussed to care.

For ~plot reasons~ I’m just gonna... handwave the whole mess and pretend it’s just... not a problem anymore and just move on with my life. Especially since it didn’t really seem like Bucklemming themselves could be fussed to do it much justice. The whole plotline played out with the feeling that they’d been ordered to clean up their mess by Dabb and they went about it in the most perfunctory and grudging manner possible.

Okay. :)

On to the other important plot-related stuff, in order from least disappointing to most disappointing:

Mary’s descent arc is moving along apace. Those BMoL weapons that we find absolutely morally reprehensible (that mutate vampire blood to poison them en masse like some sort of radiation sickness, and now a ray gun that boils rugaru brains at twenty paces), Mary thinks they’re neat and effective tools. Her “training” session with Ketch was a more voluntary and only slightly less horrifying callback to Castiel’s “training” under Naomi to kill a warehouse full of Deans. To an extent, I think when Dean learns the entire truth about Mary’s involvement with the BMoL, it’ll have the same metaphorical impact. Basically a room full of “you’re dead to me” Deans... a la “the face.”

(aside to note that all I could think of when Mary complained about “the face” was Phil Dunphy on Modern Family talking about how “in the know” he is about the kids’ lingo... before listing off the acronyms he knew... including WTF, which he sincerely believed stood for “why the face.” WHY THE FACE. And yes. This was a serious WTF for me... in the correct meaning of wtf...)

So yeah, Mary’s come ~partially~ clean to Sam and Dean. She’s been willing to accept Ketch’s statements about Toni having been a “rogue operative” who wasn’t working within the authority of the MoL, but Sam and Dean have seen just a little bit too far behind their curtain. They’ve also had experience with these sort of shady deals, and unlike Mary, they’ve grown FAR past the “shoot first, ask questions later, just kill ALL THE MONSTERS” mentality. Mary still believes in that definition of hunting. On top of all the guilt she feels personally-- rightly or wrongly-- for the lives her boys ended up leading.

That fundamental core belief is in need of some serious shaking, and I think (I hope!) that 12.14 begins to address that for her. She’s still keeping some secrets (like her role in having been ordered to steal THE COLT in 12.12...) so Sam and Dean are still partially in the dark as to the extent of her shady dealings. There’s definitely more revelations to come to light before they have all the information they need to begin putting the RIGHT questions to Mary...

Dagon’s an interesting character. Kinda relieved she was used so lightly in this episode, so they didn’t have a chance to do anything regrettable with her... but still... both she and the two angels had no trouble finding Kelly, when Cas and Sam and Dean have been looking for her for weeks now with no success. I’m now rolling my eyes at the logic gap with that one, but then I remember Bucklemming and again it’s just easier to handwave it and accept they lack a grasp of narrative continuity and logic. *HEAVY SIGHING*

I’m slightly confused as to how she was able to just annihilate two angels so easily when Ramiel needed to use Michael’s lance on Cas... but then again maybe he could’ve just poofed Cas to death and he just wanted to watch him suffer with the wound from the lance instead. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

(I should probably just title this essay *shrug emoji*)

(anyway, moving on)

Rowena was a delight, as usual. I love that she’s developed her own interesting relationship with Sam and Dean, independent of Crowley. And despite the fact that Rowena has worked with Crowley when their motivations were to defeat a common enemy, it’s interesting to see the sort of situation that has the power to drive a wedge between them.

I’m glad that Rowena’s grudge over being forced to kill Oskar has finally gotten a little payback. I also find it interesting that her revenge also including a “child” who had been “displaced in time.” Rowena had given Oskar immortality, which in its own way is just as problematic as Crowley’s desire to give Gavin a shot at a normal life in the wrong time.

Crowley’s weirdly powerful feelings toward Gavin, I believe, stem from just how human and vulnerable he’d been through most of s9 when he was at the peak of his human blood addiction. Granted by 9.21 he’d “recovered” a lot from that, but he was also biding his time waiting for Dean to completely succumb to the Mark. Crowley had some weirdly familial feelings for Gavin, after having largely ignored the boy for most of his life. Getting a chance to give Gavin a taste of normal modern life was probably the least he could do to repent for that... but the fact he STILL seemed to care so much now is just... weird. IDK.

I saw another post complaining that Sam and Dean didn’t “let” Crowley have a proper goodbye, and Rowena had frozen him when he’d reached out to Gavin. BUT CROWLEY WAS NOT ABOUT TO SHARE A TEARFUL GOODBYE. HE WAS ABOUT TO BOOP OUT WITH GAVIN AND TAKE HIM TO PLACES UNKNOWN TO PREVENT HIM FROM RETURNING TO HIS PROPER TIMELINE. So, no. I don’t think their actions there were hypocritical.

Dean’s shirt during the “Send Gavin Back To The Bottom of the Ocean” scene was eerily similar to the ugly plaid couch on which Cas nearly died in 12.12. So, watching Gavin reunited for all time with the “love of his life” while wearing the goofiest look on his face as these people who were brought back together by the power of their love in order to repair a broken timeline and restore a bunch of innocent people to life... *it’s all about the love... and love* and I mean thanks costume and props folks for dressing Dean in Castiel’s 12.12 couch basically. I see what you did there. I only put this so far down the list because it’s interesting, but that’s all it is.

Cas and Dean are still having private phone calls. But after the intensity of 12.12, and the revelations about Cas and his feelings, what we were given as a reminder here was just... underwhelming. There was just no weight to it, as if 12.12 hadn’t even happened. As if Cas hadn’t nearly DIED, and confessed his LOVE and feeling of FAMILY and BELONGING. It’s just... opportunity wasted to have given some sort of (or ANY sort of) emotional punch to the fact that Cas has just ~randomly left the bunker to fruitlessly continue the random Kelly search~ all alone. I mean... ???

Crowley. Oh dear. Can you say, Character Assassination??? I mean, wtf, bucklemming. After one of Crowley’s strongest episodes in YEARS, where we got a plethora of incredible insight into his motivations, his history, his intelligence, and his FEELINGS for the Winchesters-- including Cas-- all of a sudden we get this ridiculous disaster of characterization?

Seriously, WHAT THE FUCK.

What was both ridiculous and terrible here:

Crowley really had no idea that the Winchesters had failed to kill the nephilim?

THEY HAD BEEN IN PRISON BUCKLEMMING! REMEMBER? WHERE YOU’D PUT THEM WITHIN MINUTES OF THEM BANISHING LUCIFER IN THE FIRST PLACE?! AND IT WAS YOUR STUPID FUCKING PLOT HOLE THAT ALLOWED THAT TO HAPPEN IN THE SAME MOMENTS THAT KELLY WAS ALLOWED TO “ESCAPE.”

I mean, you could’ve just left her in the White House with the President and had Cas escape safely with Sam and Dean, BECAUSE YOU, CROWLEY, HAD THE ABILITY TO JUST BOOP IN AND PICK KELLY UP TO DO WHATEVER YOU WANTED WITH HER DOWN THE LINE. BUT NOOOOOOOO IT’S YOUR OWN DAMN IDIOTIC CANON ACROBATICS THAT HAVE LED US TO THIS INANE PLOT SITUATION FROM WHICH THERE IS APPARENTLY NO REPRIEVE. YOU STUPID FUCKERS.

So in order to make this entirely idiotic and contrived plot line work, you have to warp a character so far beyond logic that they barely even seem to be the same character we saw the week before... and no. After the brilliant writing, the loving recollection of past canon and the incredibly nuanced characterizations we’ve had over the prior three episodes, this just felt THAT MUCH MORE FUCKING CONTRIVED AND WRONG FOOTED.

I’m not really gonna forgive this bit.

Crowley, Mr. “i’m the only one on the board who doesn’t underestimate those denim wrapped nightmares,” Mr. King of Protecting his own Self Interest, Mr. You’re Good But I’m Crowley... you... bucklemming... want us to believe that in ANY ITERATION OF REALITY that Crowley is not only petty and vengeful enough to have his demons pull the same “resurrect the meatsuit” bullshit they pulled to fix your meatsuit with in 11.01 TO DIG UP AND REPAIR LUCIFER’S FORMER VESSEL NICK, as well as “studying the molecular makeup of the cage” in order to forge some weird dog collar thing strong enough to hold Lucifer, and that you would risk unleashing Lucifer on the world again ENTIRELY OUT OF PETTY VENGEANCE BECAUSE YOU WANT TO FORCE HIM TO CLEAN YOUR FLOOR WITH HIS TONGUE?!

I’m sorry. That’s just... no. That’s too much no.

AND IT GETS WORSE!

Not only is Crowley suddenly behaving idiotically out of character here, HE IS ALSO SUDDENLY MORONIC ENOUGH TO LET INFORMATION SLIP IN LUCIFER’S HEARING? Like the fact that he even had a son at all, let alone was having some sort of ~personal issues~ surrounding this weird parental family dynamic?

AND CROWLEY IS REPEATEDLY PUTTING HIMSELF IN A SITUATION WHERE HE’S LET HIMSELF BECOME COMPROMISED THIS WAY?!

I mean... this is NOT the Crowley we’ve seen lately. The Crowley who would sacrifice the only weapon that could potentially put Lucifer out permanently. One of the FEW weapons that could even protect him from what he should likely expect will be the revenge of Dagon and Asmodeus after Crowley essentially broke his deal with Ramiel... yet he’s too busy being a petty little tyrant toward Lucifer to be concerned about them?

I guess I’m particularly outraged about this 180 degree about face in Crowley’s characterization because after three OUTSTANDINGLY character driven episodes in a row, what we got here was a TERRIBLE FUCKING MESS.

Most of s12 so far has felt so deeply personal, like all of the major plot arcs have been deeply rooted in the characters own feelings and history, and have revolved around the questions of what is family and what is love and who am I and where do I fit in this world.

And in 12.13, it seems like ALL of that was just tossed out the window in favor of a couple of utterly contrived and flimsy plot points.

With a few obvious exceptions as stated above, it just felt entirely out of step with the rest of s12. In the hands of a capable writer, that could’ve been an entertaining and believable episode. But what we were served lacked any of the finesse and character development we’ve grown accustomed to.

Pro tip for writers: You have to make the plot actually fit the characters you’re writing for. This episode is an excellent example of how NOT to do that... >.>

#spn s12 spoilers #spn 12.13 #bucklemming canon acrobatics #in which they largely trip over their own damn feet and cause characters to fall flat on their faces in horrifying fashion

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cheri-translates · 4 years

Text

[CN] Victor’s Reunite Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date (and Season 2) which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

It’s vital to understand what’s going on in Season 2 so you wouldn’t get confused in this date. Do read this post before proceeding :)

Parallel World Dates Collection: Gavin // Kiro // Shaw

The date begins with MC standing outside LFG

She recalls her father telling her about their company receiving an investment from a four-year-old company which he believes will become a worthy partner in the future

Of course, that company is LFG

Back at the present, she muses that LFG isn’t as grand as the LFG in her memory. And that if everything remains the same as in the original timeline, she would meet Victor after four years

She recalls the “warning”: “Your unintentional actions may lead to irretrievable consequences.”

When she looks up with a bitter smile, she sees Victor across the street

I lower my head, countless emotions flooding into my heart - happiness and sadness... until a foreign voice enters my mind.

??: Miss MC, nice to meet you. There is a message from the “past” here. CEO Victor, you may begin.

MC: ?!

Victor: Dummy, what are you hesitating about?

Victor’s voice rings in my head clearly. I freeze in place.

“Message from the past?”

What is this... why can I hear Victor’s voice?

The Victor on the opposite side of the road doesn’t notice my existence at all, and exits my field of vision. I press a hand to my forehead, thinking what happened earlier was a mere hallucination.

But his voice appears in my mind once again, as clear as day.

Victor: Didn’t you say you were going to find the old me? Do you regret meeting me now?

MC: How could I regret it!

Victor: You dare to regret it?

As if we’re having a conversation, I speak aloud, my voice overlapping with his.

The faraway soft laughter gradually disappears from my mind. As though an invisible hand is pushing me from behind, I break into a run.

If the future doesn’t replay itself perfectly while the world moves forward slowly, is there be a possibility that we wouldn’t meet again?

With this thought, my heart clenches. Just greeting him shouldn’t be an issue...

If I simply watch him leave...

If I don’t get a future where I can meet him again...

I wouldn’t be able to accept it.

MC: Victor! Victor!! Wait!!!!

I call his name loudly, failing to notice that the traffic light has turned red.

A harsh whistle resounds behind me.

I turn my head and see a taxi coming towards me, and instinctively want to leap to the side to avoid the impact.

The expected fall doesn’t arrive, and the world suddenly turns quiet.

I’ve fallen into a warm embrace.

In slight disbelief, I take in everything in front of me. Rain drops remain still in the air. He carries me away from the impending car.

That cold yet reassuring breath makes the whole world turn a little fuzzy. I blink hard and clench my teeth, not wanting him to see my tears.

Tick tock. Tick tock.

I hear the stalled hands of time in my world start moving once again.

It turns out that my time only stops for him, and only starts again because of him.

I seem to have returned to a very, very long time ago. Perhaps this is an unintentional prank from the heavens, but it also feels like a gift from it.

Victor: Evolver?

MC: ?

Victor: You still don’t know?

MC: ...I do.

Victor: ...

MC: T-thank you for saving me.

Victor: You should watch yourself. Someone can’t come to your rescue every time.

He puts me down at the shoulder of the road, but doesn’t leave.

Victor: Why did you call me just now?

MC: I thought you’d first ask how I know your name...

Victor: That isn’t important.

He’s really the same as always.

MC: I... I just wanted to see you. You’ve invested in my company - the film company you recently invested in. Do you remember...

Victor: And then?

He cuts off my explanation coldly, crossing his arms in front of his chest, waiting for me to continue.

MC: ...there’s nothing else. I just wanted to see what sort of a person you are.

Victor: Have you seen enough?

After saying this, he turns around to leave, uninterested in my response.

MC: W-wait!

He furrows his eyebrows slightly, but stops in his steps.

Although I called him without hesitation, I have no idea what to say.

I would never regret meeting Victor. Yet, I’m not content with having such a superficial meeting with him.

This time, I want to take more initiative to stand by his side.

Meeting his sharp gaze, I straighten my back and look at him resolutely.

MC: My name is MC, and I’m the future producer of the film company you have invested in. I’ll definitely improve the film company, and all the programs will become more and more outstanding. You will not have the chance to take back your investment. And you will not be disappointed.

I say every word and sentence to Victor. The rain has stopped, and light reflects off his eyes, which have widened slightly.

In the next moment, a large falling leaf is blown by the spring breeze, sticking to the side of my face.

MC: ...

Victor: [soft laughter]

Victor’s eyes crinkle and the corners of his lips lift. Victor suppresses a smile, then faces me again.

Victor: For now, being able to stay alive is your biggest challenge.

While Victor is speaking, another large leaf seems to respond, slapping onto his face.

Victor: ...

I’m unable to suppress my laughter. A few stray tears follow along with my smile.

Victor knits his brows, and I reach out with a trembling hand, prepared to pluck the leaf from his face.

At this moment, a strange figure emerges from behind Victor and touches his arm.

Victor: !

MC: !!

Instinctively, I rush forward to grab onto the mystery person’s sleeve, wanting to protect Victor.

In the next second, the both of us find ourselves in a bar. The person in front of the bar counter freezes for a moment, furrowing his brows exaggeratedly.

Man: Big bro, what’s with this “buy one get one free”?

MC looks around her surroundings and discovers she’s in a bar called “Mondlicht”, which sounds familiar to her - she saw this name once in her father’s records on Black Swan

The man dismisses the mysterious figure coldly, leaving the three of them in the bar

The man offers to have MC teleported back to where she came from, but Victor says: “You’re not worthy to be trusted.”, and tells the man to cut to the chase.

Man: CEO Victor, there’s no need to be anxious. There’s a man who wants to see you, but he isn’t in this bar right now. As for the reason why... CEO Victor should know it clearly. So, before meeting him, that man has requested that I invite you here - to see if you’re someone worth meeting. To put it simply... this is just a small test.

While all this is happening, MC wonders what connections Victor has with Black Swan

Victor: I didn’t know of such foolish tests. Are you all too bored, or do I look very free?

Victor... he doesn’t seem surprised to be here.

Victor pulls MC to him

Victor: Sorry. Stay by my side. You’ll be fine.

MC tells Victor to be careful and warns him that Black Swan could be behind this. Victor pauses, but quickly recovers and resumes his conversation with the man

The man takes out a deck of poker cards:

Man: As part of the test, is CEO Victor interested in playing a game?

Victor: No.

The scene turns incredibly awkward.

Victor swirls the wine glass in his hand, bringing it to his mouth and pursing his lips. He doesn’t care for how the man would react.

Arrogant and proud.

Man: You’re making things difficult for me. This is just a simple game.

Victor: Even if I’m uninterested, you wouldn’t let us go. You’ve got too much nonsense.

Man: ...

The man smiles, handing out the cards resignedly. After dealing the cards, he suddenly thinks of something, and balls one hand into a fist and taps it against the other palm.

Man: Since it’s a game, we’ll need a bargaining chip. If CEO Victor wins, that person will naturally give you what you want. If you lose... you’ll have to leave your life here.

The air becomes incredibly quiet. I look at the man in shock. His eyes are crinkled, as though he just brought up a trivial matter.

Man: Lady, you don’t need to be so nervous. It wouldn’t be fun if you’re too nervous. Why don’t we liven up the atmosphere?

The man retrieves a set of darts, and Victor lets MC throw it

She refuses, but decides to do it after Victor and the man assure her that the dart game has nothing to do with the actual poker game

With Victor’s guidance, she hits the bull’s eye

Victor and the man finally start the poker game

MC has no idea what’s happening

I have no idea what’s happening too since I don’t play poker, but I hope the translation makes sense:

Both men flip over the cards in their hands. In Victor’s hand is a straight flush.

Man: CEO Victor, it’s not good to cheat.

With a wave of his hand, a few men clothed in black suddenly appear, pointing cold muzzles towards Victor.

Victor supports his head arrogantly, eyes filled with disdain. His cold fingertips tap the poker cards.

Victor: Look carefully. This isn’t the club flush you deliberately swapped over.

The man freezes, then leans over to look. Seeing the black spades card, he suddenly bursts into laughter, clapping excitedly.

Man: As expected of CEO Victor.

Victor: Your techniques were too clumsy. Including these toys.

The man isn’t angry. With a wave of his hand, the men clothed in black disappear.

In the end, he finally sets aside his cynical expression. Placing his right hand behind his back, he gives a humble bow.

Man: I should be arranging another meeting for you and that man soon.

While the man speaks, the guy who brought us to the bar appears.

They return to the roadside

MC: Victor, since this is the first time we met, why did you let me shoot the dart earlier?

Victor: ...LFG is only a medium-sized enterprise. What reason do you have for running over and speaking so confidently?

I’m left frozen to the spot at his question. I turn my eyes to the end of the road, taking a deep breath.

MC: Because I know that in the future, LFG will expand by a thousand times, and will become unbeatable in the market. It will have the ability to influence countless people. And you will become the driver of this force, so...

I speak my mind, and slowly lower my head as I continue with my words.

In front of me, I see Victor’s many faces - angry, frowning, smiling...

At the end, when I look up again, they form the face in front of me - somewhat young, and not yet humble.

So, I want to be remembered by you, and I want to become someone who’s most unique to you.

I leave this sentence out, but I say it silently in my heart.

There is a certain depth in his pupils. The spring breeze is gentle, as though something is slowly sprouting.

Victor: You have so much faith in it?

MC: It’s not just faith. You’ll definitely do it.

The corners of his lips turn up slowly. He places a hand into his pocket. In that moment, it seems as though all the brilliant lights in the world are in his eyes.

Victor: Since you have the wild ambition of not losing future LFG’s investment, I’ll have to see what you’re made of. I’ll remember your words. I look forward to your performance.

A few days later, Victor walks into a dark building.

??: Welcome to Black Swan.

Eight months later.

I heard that Black Swan recently had a major change. A high-ranking cadre and a portion of the members left. The Board of Directors has also seen a reorganisation.

After many years, I’m now at the Black Swan building.

At this point, everything in the future has not occurred. The me of right now has not officially become a member of Black Swan.

The empty meeting room is silent. Someone seems to be seated behind a barrier at the end of the meeting room.

MC: Sorry to bother you...

Just as I prepare to leave, an unknown device starts up quietly. The long table shrinks and becomes a normal desk. The barrier pulls open slowly.

MC: V-Victor?!

Clearly, in contrast to my shock, Victor is not at all surprised by my appearance.

Victor: You haven’t shown me any positive evidence regarding your words before.

Victor: Don’t forget what you said.

Victor: Don't make me regret choosing you.

🌹 MOMENTS 🌹

Victor’s Post: Being able to draw a Straight Flush has nothing to do with hard work.

MC: Unlucky me is destined to never draw a Straight Flush...

Victor: You can play mahjong.

Victor’s Post: Being able to draw a Straight Flush has nothing to do with hard work.

MC: I agree. After four years of fruitless hard work, I hope everyone won’t fall into this fiery pit.

Victor: Told you so.

Victor’s Post: Being able to draw a Straight Flush has nothing to do with hard work.

MC: Is there really no relation? Maybe there’ll be an improvement after five years?

Victor: You’ll still be this way after ten years.

Phone call: here

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc victor

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