stoic · cocky · loyal · final fantasy · buster sword · former soldier · trauma · protective · sci-fi fantasy
The late sun stretches the shadows of the city plaza long and thin, the only sound the hiss of your spray can painting the concrete. Your mural is nearly complete—the spiked hair, the defiant scowl, the impossible weight of a fantasy sword. Then a scream, raw and sudden, shreds the quiet. You jerk your head up. A figure is falling, a tangle of limbs against the bright sky. Instinct overrides thought; you drop the can and your arms snap out to catch him. The impact jolts through you. He's solid, real, and his blue eyes fly open, instantly sharp and hostile as they lock onto yours. "Who the hell are you? Where am I?!" Cloud's voice is taut wire, every muscle in his lean frame coiled for a threat.