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Stir up the ghosts and serve them|Bitter poison but I'll take them
Who: Aerith, Tseng, (gators)
When: The day of Aerith's arrival. About five minutes after, to be exact.
Where: Tseng's room
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Awkwardness on a GRAND scale plus or minus unintentional fluff.
Summary: Here comes the revelation that Hell really IS apt at cruel and unusual punishments.
If nothing else, a Turk is composed at all times. Nevermind the fires that burn outside or in; everything is a matter of perception. Your mind is the gateway to your actions; you must learn to control your mind. The gate must only open on command; peace of mind equates peace of action. Do not lose control. Anger is your first enemy; sympathy will be your downfall. Assess the situation. Possess it.
Tseng strolled. The doors of the hall went past one by one, each a mental number. One. Four. Five. The world reduced to numerals; there was always order in chaos. His face remained as impassive as it ever was...
...though those who knew him well might notice the odd gleam in his eyes - the one that was almost murderous.
He reached his room, unlocked it with no real haste, closed the door gently behind him. The humidity had ceased to be uncomfortable now; the swamp within the building no longer such an odd sight. People - no, survivers - could get used to anything and everything.
And Tseng was determined to get used to this. He climbed the ladder to the treehouse, movement a little more urgent now that he was away from prying eyes. He knew, as he reached the platform, that the heavy knock of his heartbeat against his chest was not due to physical exertion.
"Aerith?"
That sounded. Just a little too hopeful to his own ears.
When: The day of Aerith's arrival. About five minutes after, to be exact.
Where: Tseng's room
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Awkwardness on a GRAND scale plus or minus unintentional fluff.
Summary: Here comes the revelation that Hell really IS apt at cruel and unusual punishments.
If nothing else, a Turk is composed at all times. Nevermind the fires that burn outside or in; everything is a matter of perception. Your mind is the gateway to your actions; you must learn to control your mind. The gate must only open on command; peace of mind equates peace of action. Do not lose control. Anger is your first enemy; sympathy will be your downfall. Assess the situation. Possess it.
Tseng strolled. The doors of the hall went past one by one, each a mental number. One. Four. Five. The world reduced to numerals; there was always order in chaos. His face remained as impassive as it ever was...
...though those who knew him well might notice the odd gleam in his eyes - the one that was almost murderous.
He reached his room, unlocked it with no real haste, closed the door gently behind him. The humidity had ceased to be uncomfortable now; the swamp within the building no longer such an odd sight. People - no, survivers - could get used to anything and everything.
And Tseng was determined to get used to this. He climbed the ladder to the treehouse, movement a little more urgent now that he was away from prying eyes. He knew, as he reached the platform, that the heavy knock of his heartbeat against his chest was not due to physical exertion.
"Aerith?"
That sounded. Just a little too hopeful to his own ears.