fairly | [Voice / Action]

Hey there, Luceti! Name's Zack. Just wanna toss in the usual mention to newcomers that the local bar, Good Spirits, is in the plaza, and it's pretty much always open if you're in need of a little something to take the edge off. We serve more than booze, so don't worry if you're underage. I run the place, along with Shizuo and the lovely ladies Buffy and Meryl. Feel free to stop by anytime!

[Filtered to Haruhi]

Just checking in to see if you've got the details for the Brave Vesperia job. Yuri's back, so he'll probably be taking over soon, but I figure I may as well handle this one first.

[AND WITH THAT DONE... Since Cloud's arrival, Zack has been giving some serious thought to his weaponry. With Cloud trying to stake his claim on the Buster sword, and Zack needing some way to break the tension, it's probably about time to make a peace offering. First things first, though- he heads over to the weapon shop to visit a blacksmith. After that, he'll head to Cloud's apartment, Buster sword in hand.

Feel free to bump into him wherever! Alternatively, use this as a mingling bar post. IT IS QUITE OPEN I SAY.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It is. More than you know.

[He can't answer, can he.]

[ it hurts. it hurts. it hurts. it hurts. it hurts. it hurts. it hurts. something tastes like copper and suddenly his headache is increasing tenfold and it sounds like there's a voice. ]

It's none of your business. [ His voice comes out in a hiss through his teeth. ]

...Yeah, I figured as much. But you need to hear this.

[Zack lifts the sword off his back to balance it between them, the motion as non-threatening as he can possibly make it.]

This sword... it's got a history. More than you'll probably ever know. It's important- the symbol of honour, and of dreams, for those who carry it.

[He pauses, lips pursing tightly, then rests the blade against his forehead for a long moment. He can do this. He can do this.]

It was given to me by someone very important to me. Someone I can't ever forget. And now... I'm giving it to you.

[So maybe you'll remember me.

He turns the sword around to offer it, hilt-forward, to Cloud. It's going to be hard, but... this is what has to be done. For Cloud, maybe even for his own sake. And maybe someday he'll be glad he did it.

Someday.]

The Buster sword... is yours now.

[ There's something important about this. Something about the words, the weight they carry. There's a weird prickling sensation behind his eyes, the throbbing in his head intensifies.

He stands and crosses the floor. There's something uncertain across his face, half-hidden yet clearly visible behind the crumbling mask of annoyance and insult. He reached out, grabbing the sword by the hilt.

Don't say anything. Don't acknowledge whatever it is. Cloud's mind is forcing itself to ignore all of that, focusing instead on the fact that this guy has no right to touch his sword.

But he can't ignore it. ]

[Zack watches Cloud like that for an extended moment, the way he holds the sword, the way he looks, the expression he's wearing. The way it seems... right. It's right, that Cloud has it now. Somehow, even if Zack can't explain it, it's right.

The sword is where it belongs, now. And even though it hurts, even though it's like leaving a part of himself - and Angeal - behind, Zack takes a slow step backwards, as if to stop himself from reaching out for it.]

I guess... that's it. ...Just take care of it, Cloud. Using it... that brings wear, tear, and rust. And that's a waste, you know?

[It's not the first time he's said it. But Cloud forgot, and... it's something he needs to know. The sword is important. More than anyone could ever know. Swords with history deserve the right treatment.]

[ he stares at the blade for a long moment. almost lost, as if this is his first time seeing the weapon which had served him so well for so long. suddenly, there are cracks along the surface he'd never seen. an indent in the blade that he'd never spotted, nicks and cracks that left the shining surface marred. ]

I think it's more of a waste to not. A sword like this - [ Swords are for protecting people. They're meant to bring about hope and awe, respect, and most of all they're meant to protect. He starts to say it - his lips move to form the words - but he stops, jaw clicking shut.

Suddenly, he wants Zack gone. There's an unpleasant feeling inside, as if something has changed, as if the very foundation of something has been rocked. He steps back and gingerly tests the weight in one hand, swinging it above his head, twirling the hilt along his palm, before locking it onto place on the straps he was still wearing. ]

[Zack's immediate response is a broad shrug. A way of dismissing the issue? Maybe. But Cloud's free to agree or disagree; it really is his sword now, so he's got no place to protest.

...Really hoping he doesn't end up abusing the hell out of it though.]

Yeah, I know. It's a tricky balance, I can't lie about that.

[ What the HELL was that? The blonde stares for a minute, unable to shake the horrible feeling of deja-vu. ]

Edited 2011-11-23 22:44 (UTC)

I don't wreck my swords. [ unless i'm horribly traumatized and suffering from a life threatening disease that turns me into toxic mold. ]

[ now he's looking at Zack's posture. At the fact that he suddenly recalls the sword being in his hands.

... ] You can go now.

[Ouch, dismissal. Not even a thank you. Well, Zack wasn't expecting one, so with a faint smile and a nod, he turns away, lifting one hand at his back in farewell.]

Yep. See you around, Cloud.

[...He can hope, anyway.]

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