wiedzminka | ❧ IC INBOX: Abraxas

[His feelings about Cloud are complicated. Their meeting in this world had been nothing short of explosive and abrasive, with accusations tossed his way too absurd to even humor. Irritation, then, had not been uncommon between them, especially since they saw each other often as members of the Free Cities army.

But he had been the only other Summoned (that he was aware of) from his Planet. Sephiroth had remembered him as an infantryman under his command prior to his arrival in Abraxas, and this sense of responsibility is hard to shake, even after all that's happened.

He would be lying if he said he wasn't concerned.]

Yes. I have been looking for a while now.

The hour's late. [Daylight's long gone.] I don't think I'll make much headway. I'll try again in the morning.

[ That is what she expected. Of course he's out there, even now. ]

Are you far from the city?

No more than a couple of miles out along the main road.

[Maybe Cloud was still within Cadens? If his agitated, somewhat delusional demeanor had been the result of Mako poisoning, then it's possible he never really strayed. His condition could have worsened, leaving him dazed and disoriented, lost in a nondescript alleyway somewhere. It's reason enough to justify a slow return to the city.]

Why don't you come over? We'll go out together in the morning.

[ As far as she's aware, he's still rooming in the barracks. And if his friend was also there, it might be better for him to be in a different environment, at least for a bit. ]

It's just me here now anyway.

[She's correct — his rooming is still in the barracks. A place that's far from empty, but Cloud's departure is keenly felt in those walls, anyway. It gnaws at him.]

Where are you staying?

[ She sends over the address of the new apartment she shares with Jaskier and Geralt -- and Rinwell, until recently. Until she vanished too. Right now, it's just her, Jaskier having gone off somewhere (perhaps to stay the night with Nadine or simply stay out drinking), and Geralt's often out in the desert regardless.

Ciri's used to being alone, usually. But she'd also gotten used to Rinwell's quiet presence here. Now, it feels much emptier. ]

It's above the bookshop & bakery. Just go around the side and up the wooden steps.

[He takes an easy mental note of the address, already mapping it out in his mind, though he still needs to make the trek back to the city proper.]

I'll be there within the hour.

[It takes a good forty minutes to return to Cadens. Fifteen minutes or so to find the apartment she's described for him nearby -- a bookshop and bakery, around the side, and up the wooden steps. But in the end, he ends up at her door just within the threshold of an hour. His knuckles rap against the door twice.]

[ Assuming Sephiroth's had nothing to eat since he was out searching, Ciri spends the time cutting up some fruit and cheese, alongside one of the fresh loaves of bread they have in ready supply between the bakery below and Jaskier's hobby baking. She sets out some nuts and dates, dried meat of some sort Geralt brought back before he left again. It fills the near-hour, more or less, keeps her busy in the quiet. A small fire crackles in the hearth more for the noise and atmosphere than warmth, considering the windows are also open to let in the breeze.

Sephiroth will find her sitting on the couch near the fire, oiling her sword. She calls out when he knocks. ]

Come in. It's unlocked.

Are you alright? I haven't seen you....

[ Since a disastrous memory swap in the streets? Since days after that when Alina tried to follow Ciri's normal schedule without being too obvious? Well, she's obvious now. ]

Lately. I haven't seen you in the city.

[When he enters, he has the look of a man who's spent the evening wandering the desert. Even his own fastidious nature cannot shield him from the sand gumming up in thin layers across his uniform, the way it dusts his cheekbones. Even his hair shows strands out of place, illuminated faintly in the light emanating from the fire.

Sephiroth casts his gaze about, finds Ciri nearby first, tending to her sword. The quaint spread of food is noted next, and he realizes, somewhat belatedly, that he is hungry. He has had only one meal today, early this morning — and while he can sustain himself on even less than that, it isn't ideal.

He shuts the door gently behind him, stepping further in.]

…Thank you for the offer to help.

[ Alina may have already had a hard time trying to keep track of Ciri, considering she disappeared into the desert for about a week without coming home after the first couple days of the memory swapping nonsense. After that, she was back to her usual strange hours and wandering, going back and forth between the city and riding out to complete jobs. But Alina's right that she's vanished again, and this time so has Jaskier. The apartment they share above the bakery is empty for now.

Alina's message reaches Ciri when she's already in Aquila, and already absolutely sloshed. ]

I'm great! I'm at sea!

I mean, I'm visiting the sea. On the shore. Not in the water. I was in the water earlier, but not on a boat.

[ Oh no. Hold on. Trying to rein in her scattered brain cells. ]

Please don't tell me something is wrong?

You've helped me before.

[ She answers simply -- because it is that simple, in the end. He's been a trustworthy ally (friend, even), and she can repay the same in kind. Even if she's not confident they have anyone to search for, if the man from his home world is really gone.

It's company Ciri can provide instead, though. And a reminder to eat something, rather than pushing himself on nothing at all. ]

Sit at the table. I'll join you in a moment.

Wine or ale?

[He supposes it’s as simple as that. Offered aid is returned in kind, though he does not think to expect it — in some way, it surprises him, even if it is transactional. Though maybe that’s not giving it enough credit. He considers her a friend, and though he doesn’t like to rely too overtly on others, it’s comforting to know that Ciri is someone he can trust with more personal worries.

He crosses over to the table, pulling out a chair to sit. Sephiroth pulls at the fingers of his dark gloves, just as marred with sand in their leather creases. Best to remove them before a meal.]

Ale sounds good.

[ She finishes what she is doing, puts away her supplies and her blade, letting him eat some in the meantime and giving him some time to rest. He doesn't say anything else yet, so she does not ask. The silence is filled with the sound of Ciri moving around, washing her hands and grabbing a bottle of ale from the ice box (cold ale has been a revelation to those from her world). She joins him after a minute, along with two pewter mugs, in which the ale is poured and handed over. ]

We have stronger stuff too.

[ Depending on how he's feeling. ]

And more bread. Eat as much as you want.

Hmm. Sounds like you don't think it'll taste good.

[ She's teasing. That's kind of like a thank-you. Honestly, she's not really sure what it's for (she knows what it's for, rather, but isn't at all convinced it's necessary, considering none of that was within their power to control), but she does enjoy a sweet, so she'll eat it. Alucard is invited, but she won't press if he really doesn't want to come by. ]

Edited 2022-05-19 23:49 (UTC)

Are you going to question a gift cake, Ciri?

[It may not be strictly necessary, but between her and Jaskier, Alucard still feels miserable. Not having control over circumstances doesn't mean you don't apologize for making other people live your worst traumas.]

Besides. Wolves can't eat sweets.

[He's not quite up for facing the both of them yet. Maybe soon. For now, he's content to get his remaining aggression out through working on the Hall and then curling up good and tight in his cactus.]

But will accept visits if you don't want conversation.

[Someone has earned Belly Rub Privilages.]

[He nods, taking the mug, though he doesn’t feel the need to request anything stronger. It would be a moot point, considering he’d have to bleed their whole supply dry were Sephiroth to feel any effect, but the offer is appreciated all the same.

Again, he fills the air with silence, knowing that it’s better suited to conversation, but he’s sorting through his words, not completely sure how to enunciate how he’s feeling about the whole matter. In the interim, he eats what she’s laid out for him—whatever is closest—allowing for some time to fill his stomach before, finally:]

Do you think it’s realistic to expect to find him? Out in the desert.

[Sephiroth is pragmatic, sometimes unforgivingly so. Even now, holding out a little hope, he knows the answer is not as kind.]

[ So he doesn't eat alone, Ciri picks at some of the fruit, more for something to do with her hands other than the occasional drink than anything else. It gives her, at least, a moment to consider her answer. ]

You ask me something like that, I'm going to reply honestly.

[ She tells him steadily, leveling a serious look at Sephiroth and meeting his eyes. Some part of her might want to spare his feelings, but that part has long since learned nothing good ever comes of that in the end. ]

I don't know enough to say anything definitively. Could be he's out there. Could be he's gone. But realistically speaking, one of these has a higher likelihood, all things considered.

You should check his domain in the Horizon. Should find your answer there.

[He prefers honesty. Expecting the worst is the more practical option; and it means that should he be pleasantly surprised, all the better for it. Sephiroth looks at her evenly, about as steadily as she replies to his question. Having forgotten about his food for now, he shakes his head, his brows slanting.]

No. I can't.

[For as unlikely as that sounds, it requires explanation.]

Cloud and I were never... close. In fact, we did not see eye-to-eye ever since my arrival to this planet. He had changed in ways I did not expect. [To say the least.] And I don't know where his domain would have been, or if he even created one to start.

I realize that's odd, coming from a man invested in seeking out his whereabouts now.

Mm. I see.

[ Ciri nods, not questioning it. There is a certain camaraderie that comes from being of the same world; even if he and Cloud aren't close, or even hold opposing views, she can understand why Sephiroth would at least want to know whether or not he's disappeared. ]

I've heard the name. Surely he had friends among the Summoned-- at least acquaintances. Let me ask around.

[ Oh, all right. She won't bully. ]

I know a breed of desert wolf that makes its habitat in one very specific old building. I suspect it's there most evenings.

That breed travels out into the city outskirts and graveyards to go home, most evenings.

But it can wait at that building, if you're not inclined to visit the dead.

[He doubts even that. Cloud had not made friends among the Free Cities' army. He was churlish and bristly and ill-tempered; so far departed from the fresh-faced recruit he had known as they traveled to Nibelheim together.]

I wouldn't be too certain. But maybe you'll get lucky.

[And Ciri is likely better at scenting out information and rumor better than him. There is something about being dressed as a city guard that makes spines stiffen, makes a citizen's lips not nearly as loose.

He is beset, suddenly, by a vague feeling of frustration.]

I should have been more patient with him.

It wouldn't have mattered. [ She says plainly, but not unkindly. ]

If he's gone, he's gone. You could have done nothing about it.

[ Just as none of them had been able to predict or prevent Rinwell's disappearance. Her room in the loft upstairs stands empty, no matter how much effort and care had been put into it by several pairs of hands. Hector is gone, too. People just... do that. They vanish. They leave.

Ciri reaches for the ale, considering something stronger. The urge comes suddenly to rescind her offer of help, to shut down this relationship too before it grows too painful. She swallows. ]

Don't bother with regrets. We'll look and ask around. There's nothing more to do.

[She's right. Of course she is. He has much he should've asked Cloud while he was here, but he didn't, plain and simple, and perhaps there's no point in ruminating. In assuming he could have wrung out answers from the man when he was so unwilling to speak to him, anyway.

So he just nods, tends to his food for a minute or two more in silence. Takes that time to set his frustration aside, box it up and ignore it.

Eventually—]

I need to wash up. Do you mind?

[He is still gritty and unpresentable (in his estimation) from his trek in the desert. He won't be able to sleep like this.]

❧ IC INBOX: Abraxas

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