[ closed. ] to those who loved this world, and knew friendly company therein—

[evanescent]

WHO: Aerith Gainsborough & various
WHEN: Aeveuer
WHERE: Dreamland
WHAT: Memory share event
WARNINGS: Warnings will be placed in the toplevels that warrant it. General blanket warning for violence and child endangerment/experimentation & human experimentation though.

[The mirror you face is ornate, cast in a frame of golden wood that has been carefully carved in the visage of lilies. More details become clear the closer you get — more carvings of interlocking vines and flowers. On the bottom of this framed mirror is the carved image of two greatswords, crossed over one another. On the top, in the center, is a glowing circular gem, smooth and facetless, inlaid in the center of a carving that looks very much like a ribbon. The closer you get to the mirror, the more you begin to see it — tendrils of aquamarine light in the same color of that jewel, that ripple at the surface, like a lake disturbed by a stone.

Though it seems inexplicable, you think you hear birdsong.]

[ooc: starters below. if you'd like a starter featuring any of these memories or anything else, hit me up on godsibb @ plurk or send me a PM.]

Comments

[evanescent]

[Aerith keeps her expression serious up until she is certain he's disappeared from view, slipping into the tube and out of sight. Then — she titters, giggles, clutches her sides as if to keep the laughter at bay.

She shows up, a little before him, actually, once she is certain she'll be able to look him in the eye without cracking up.

How she's gotten there before him is not explained. Instead she waits by the entrance to the Event Square, and watches the memory version of herself and Tifa pass through. Snippets of their conversation are heard, Tifa still fretting: Are you sure this is alright...? We should check on Cloud, and herself taking her wrist, gently turning her back around, He's a big boy. Don't worry. I'll protect you! Finally, she's rewarded with a laugh.

When Sephiroth does arrive, she pulls her gaze from the memory.] See? Wasn't too bad, was it? You're still perfectly coiffed and all! Did you have fun?

she's a menace

[supersoldier]

[Sephiroth expects Aerith to go tumbling out of the slide’s exit, as well, so when he raises his eyes to find her standing there, as if she had arrived first and with time to spare, he furrows his brow at her — his frown becomes more prevalent, more from mild confusion than disapproval.

(Though the disapproval is sure to come if he learns that taking that slide was ever unnecessary.)

But she’s as unaffected as ever, making remarks as if being perpetually “coiffed” is ever one of his priorities. It is.]

No.

[No he dID NOT.

What constitutes fun for Sephiroth is a mystery to most people, but the truth is that it’s limited to one very specific thing (combat), for not much else has been allowed to germinate in his little more than two decades of living. Still, the tail end of this memory has played out in the distance, and Sephiroth can only catch the flagging conversation. His eyes trail to the environment; a colorful stage with enough seating that it could be categorized as an amphitheater.]

You have a very childish idea of fun. What's there to see here?

the devil on earth

[evanescent]

Maybe you don't have an idea of fun at all. Did you ever think of it that way?

[It seems she has at the least tired of dragging him around aimlessly though, because as they head toward the auditorium, she answers his question, sitting on the steps rather than finding a place in the crowd.] It's a play. If I'm honest, I didn't think it was a very good one. But she needed the break.

[She motions to herself and Tifa in the memory — she does, in fact, look a little bored. But Tifa is engrossed, leaning forward, nudging her at particularly exciting parts. This joy, open and so unlike her, makes her look younger.] Her name is Tifa, by the way. I thought you might remember her if you saw her like this.

[supersoldier]

[Sephiroth isn’t the type to plant himself in the crowd, but he’s also not going perch himself on the steps leading down to the stage, either. So he stands, just a step or two above from where Aerith sits, arms crossed -- and looming, were this not just a memory.

He feels no need to justify himself, so the first question goes ignored, instead opting to fix his gaze on Tifa’s profile, the young woman openly enjoying the show put on for the crowd. Recognition starts to solidify.]

…Our guide. [Their guide at Nibelheim, meant to lead them to the reactor. The years have carved away at the rounder features of youth, as they often do, but he’s certain of it.] I do remember her now. She was dressed— [A beat.] Differently. But I was standing right next to her before I was stolen from our Planet.

[He huffs out air, an almost scoff of consideration.]

She seems to be enjoying herself now.

[Personally, Sephiroth is a bit tired of plays.]

[evanescent]

That's her.

[Something has changed in Aerith's demeanor — it's subtle, but she seems thoughtful. She tucks her knees to her chest.]

Yeah. She usually sucks at having fun.

[It's said with no small amount of fondness.

Sephiroth is looming over her, and in some other circumstance she might feel threatened by it — this bizarre similarity to the moments before her death. Seeing him go down a colorful tube kind of takes the edge off of it though, and she tilts her head back to regard him.] Have you ever met someone like that? Someone who worries all the time?

[supersoldier]

[She looks up at him, and Sephiroth cants his head down in turn, his silver bangs more prominently framing his face at this angle.]

Shinra military isn’t conducive to worrywart personalities. [Worrying led down two paths: worsening performance and the second-guessing of orders coming from above. Neither of which are suited nor wanted in a militant structure or hierarchy. ]

But... [He looks over at the memory of Tifa and Aerith again, then to the stage play still going strong.] You’re the type of person to worry about someone who worries all the time, aren’t you?