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cloakandclaw) wrote2008-04-29 06:36 pm
cloakandclaw) wrote2008-04-29 06:36 pm
[Milliways] Seeking the Familiar
It's silly: he's knocked at this door more than once since his return and there hasn't been any answer; he has no reason to believe that Tifa is anywhere but back in Midgar. It's where she was when he left for the Western continent and if there's any justice at all in this universe, it's where she is right now. He hasn't seen her the few times he's been at the bar; he hasn't seen her when he's been outside although... it's hard to see somebody from the depth of the forest. It's just... there hasn't been very good reason to be sociable. He's used to solitude; he's used to accounting for his time only to himself and, occasionally, to Lucrecia.
She doesn't really listen, though.
At the end of the day, he's... still Vincent and as long as Chaos is held at bay, he considers himself still human. And humans are social creatures and it's been some time since he was among friends. As much as any other man, he misses the people he knows even though he prefers to be alone. That's what he tells himself, at least and so... if that's true... why is he standing outside the door to Tifa's room, his back against the wall, as if she's going to miraculously appear?
Because he's lonely, but admitting that is... weak and... needy and... he already has enough to repent for. He has zero desire to be a burden of any kind at all to Tifa or to any of his friends and perhaps he clings to the idea of Tifa because she was a familiar sight in a strange and new place. But she's not here now and standing by her room is futile and more than a little pathetic; shaking his head, he turns to go.
He gets five paces down the hall before he turns back, makes his way with determined steps to her door, lifts his hand, and knocks.
He has absolutely nothing to lose but hope.
She doesn't really listen, though.
At the end of the day, he's... still Vincent and as long as Chaos is held at bay, he considers himself still human. And humans are social creatures and it's been some time since he was among friends. As much as any other man, he misses the people he knows even though he prefers to be alone. That's what he tells himself, at least and so... if that's true... why is he standing outside the door to Tifa's room, his back against the wall, as if she's going to miraculously appear?
Because he's lonely, but admitting that is... weak and... needy and... he already has enough to repent for. He has zero desire to be a burden of any kind at all to Tifa or to any of his friends and perhaps he clings to the idea of Tifa because she was a familiar sight in a strange and new place. But she's not here now and standing by her room is futile and more than a little pathetic; shaking his head, he turns to go.
He gets five paces down the hall before he turns back, makes his way with determined steps to her door, lifts his hand, and knocks.
He has absolutely nothing to lose but hope.
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When he says that, he just sounds like the best former Turk she can possibly imagine, and she couldn't agree more.
"There's a lot Shin-Ra has no right to."
She gives him a little nod, almost as if in solidarity, and takes the picture from him, curiosity in her eyes.
That's Vincent, all right. The front of his hair looks the same, but the rest of it is so much longer. And he's certainly dressed the part of a Turk. With suit and tie looking so neat, it makes her think a little of Rude and Tseng.
(Not Reno. He seems a lot more casual than that.)
His eyes are brown in the picture and not the red she's grown accustomed to. Somehow it seems fitting. Brown is the closest shade to what his eyes are like now, and it's really the only eye color she thinks she could've imagined him having.
Sometimes it's hard to think of Vincent as anything other than exactly what she's always known him as. It's an odd feeling to look the photograph over like this, knowing he's watching. She's surprised he shared it with her, but she's glad he did.
What makes it even more strange is the idea that the picture is at least thirty years old.
For all of the dramatic differences between the Vincent pictured and the Vincent standing here in her room, he doesn't look like he's aged at all. Even knowing all she knows about what happened to him, it's so strange to have this kind of evidence.
There's a little wonderment in her eyes when she looks up, but she smiles at him. "You look very distinguished."
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Even when it makes him break his placid exterior with laughter; the sound is so alien to his ears that he finds himself pausing, listening to the returning echo. It's fine with him if she wants to study the photograph; if she had handed him one of herself from long ago he'd be doing the same thing. Of course, his has the added benefit of a large curiosity factor: the face in the picture is the same as his face now, although it's some thirty-two... no, thirty-three years since the photograph was taken. In that time, so much has changed... in other ways, some tangible and some less so.
Whenever she's done he knows he'll get his picture back. It isn't that he needs to carry it around, but it was imperative that it not stay with Shin-Ra. Retrieving it was simple; they trained him well. Rule Number Three: never leave a Turk in a room unattended. That comes after shoot first and ask questions later and whatever you are and whatever you have belongs to the Shin-Ra Company. As employees, they had their own set of rules, of course, but it was a long time ago and is irrelevant now.
He is still... amused, however, at her use of the word distinguished. She can rest assured she's the first person to tell him he looks distinguished in over three decades; there's softness in his eyes when he looks at her again. It does feel better to share. Of all the things to deny oneself... well, he won't take advantage of Tifa's kindness. But he will be more inclined to tell her things now, or at least he assumes he will.
He'll try to... be a better friend, starting now.
"You're well? Even though you can't leave?" She must miss Cloud -- her Cloud -- and Marlene and Barret terribly. It's been a very long time since he had anything he might remotely consider a home, but in a short time, she and the others turned that place beneath the plate into a very comfortable residence. If he lived there, he'd be so eager to go back.
As it is, he can't help wanting to see Lucrecia again himself, even though he knows every conversation he has with her these days is more painful than the last. He's drawn to her and simply can't help himself.
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She grins and looks down at the photograph one more time before she holds it out to him.
What he said about looking like a deer in headlights is an exaggeration -- he doesn't look that uncomfortable -- but it's a good reminder that in spite of everything that's happened to him and in spite of how cool and detached he can come across, he's only human.
To answer his question, she nods her head. "As well as someone who can't leave can be."
It's about like last time: she's a night owl kept up even later by the fact that she doesn't fall asleep easily here and there's a feelings of restlessness that she can't deny, but she's doing as well as possible.
The job will help. Having Vincent around will help even more.
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For an unexpected hug, maybe. He can still almost feel it, and that's possibly the most unnerving thing anyone has ever done to him since...
...since he started looking like some creature out of a nightmare. Tifa, while not eternally understanding, is a very kind and giving person and to say their gently-emerging friendship has caught him off-guard is an understatement. It's something he barely knows how to work. Unlike most children he didn't grow up surrounded by family and friends; he had a long period of isolation followed by an unceremonious send-off to a school far away once he was ten and then... once that was done he began working for Shin-Ra because his whole family worked for Shin-Ra. Establishing social ties, he knows, is nothing that's ever come readily for him.
It was with Shin-Ra, however, that he felt his most... normal: out of school, living on his own, garnering a taste of what most people were like. He's never been as big a drinker as Reno or as much of a company man as Tseng, but a group of his fellow Turks... hung out, spent time together. He's only seen one of them since, though, and it was a number of years ago for a few minutes and it's something he barely remembers.
It was bright when that coffin lid was opened, and he gave the requested information freely before being left to his solitude.
He wasn't ready yet. Not ready to leave, not ready to live.
He still dreams of Lucrecia every night: penance is an ongoing thing. It will probably stretch out for the remainder of his life which should be very long indeed, if one goes by the fact he hasn't aged in thirty years. Ultimately, he assumes, a battle will demolish him.
That's why fighting monsters is fun. It brings hope.
Shaking his head, he blinks the thoughts away. "I... got lost in thought there for a minute." But he won't apologize because she's told him he doesn't have to and he learns easily enough. "For my sake, I'm very glad to see you. For yours... I would like it if you weren't bound to this place." Reaching forward, he rests his hand on Tifa's arm briefly. "I'm very glad to see you."
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And she's glad.
When they were traveling together before Meteorfall, she never heard him apologize all that much and it's not that he's doing it a lot now, but he's definitely apologized for more than he needs to. And she knows that whether or not he apologizes, he blames himself for things she can't think of any reason for him to take such blame for.
She smiles at him again. What he says is almost surprisingly sweet, and though Cid -- and Barret -- would probably never believe it, she's definitely felt better since she opened the door and found him standing there.
"Do you want to go downstairs? We could have some berry tea."
Everything seems a little bit more manageable when you have a friend around.
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It's getting easier: he doesn't even have to weigh her request with a long list of pros and cons this time and he can feel his eyes soften at her invitation. At this point he would do what she needs him to, but it's also nice to do something because it will be fun.
And it's nothing to do with fighting monsters, or at least not the literal kind, and he sets himself a new goal. This one doesn't involve repentance or atonement -- one would think his plate was already full of those -- but this new goal is to leave the darker memories to appropriate times and places rather than carrying them with him at all times. He's not so sure it's a goal he'll be able to meet any time soon, but if he focuses, he thinks he'll be able to attain it eventually.
At any rate it will give him something to work on while he's here. He would never tag along with Tifa all the time; he's far too used to being self-sufficient to allow himself to do that. But tonight, he'll have berry tea with her and hear all about her time back in Midgar if she'll share that with him. He liked visiting her there, seeing Cloud and Barret, meeting Marlene. And while he can't say he particularly enjoyed grocery shopping, it was an interesting change of pace.
He was alone enough again afterward, so... there's merit in spending time with friends, and no shame in actually wanting to do so.
Moving to the door, he opens it for her, waits until she's safely through, then closes it behind them. Never let it be said that Vincent Valentine -- no matter what he's become -- wasn't raised to be a perfect gentleman.