Surrender to the Infinite

[Pledge]

[Location: Grasslands beach (near Chocobo ranch)]


A ghost of eternity. A shadow of rememberance. Voices of the memories of the dead.

Pledge closed his eyes, tilting his face up to the cold sky, shrouded in grey clouds. The breeze stirred his hair, gentle but chilly. The waves reached out to grasp at his boots, as though the ocean wished to pull him out into the depths and drown him in its vastness. He breathed in time with the waves, the tangy salt air clearing his mind, making it that little bit easier to listen.

He could hear it, so clearly it hurt. A song of life and death; the flow of time and souls. Wordless, melancholy. Beautiful and yet deeply disturbing. It was eternal, infinite, without measure, without form. Entirely beyond comprehension. And yet it was everything. It was a part of him. He was a part of it. And as a part of that eternity, he was no more important than a teardrop in the ocean.

The concept was somehow terrifying. It brought the sensation of floating in a void of nothingness, lost to everything, everything lost. Entirely insignificant. Waiting only for death, and to be born again to waiting.

He drew in a great, gasping breath, his eyes snapping open. Light and sound assailed his senses like he had truly emerged from the blackness of the void, back into life and being. It was like waking from a dream. There was only pale sand, grey sky, and the endless ocean - its quiet lament, the wash of the waves, as regular as breathing.

Forever: the ocean. And far beyond that forever lay his shame.

He lifted his left hand, gazing down at the small green orb that lay in his palm, the light that reflected on its surface seeming dull compared to the oddly swirling glow within it, which seemed to pulse faintly, like a heartbeat. Intense sorrow washed over him like the waves washed over the shore. He closed his fingers about it, feeling the coolness of the surface, the faint warmth that radiated from within.

He had planned to sacrifice the Materia to the pull of the waves. To give it back to the planet. But it was harder than he had expected.

Materia was formed from the Lifestream. Which could mean only that the Lifestream intended it to be lost. The memories of sorrow inside this Materia... the memories of anger and hatred that gave rise to destructive magic and the power to summon creatures of ruin... there was a reason such Materia existed.

Memories of anger and hated... Lifestream bled these memories from itself, as a wound bleeds to wash away impurities. It bled them away so that new life would not be tainted by such memories. And yet, new life always was. Anger and hatred... they were human nature. Even as the Lifestream fought to cleanse itself, humanity tainted it further. And from the tainted memories were born yet more tools of destruction. The power to wield fire, ice, lightning; the power to split the earth in two and call comets down from the stars... And the power to summon ferocious beasts...

And sorrow... The sorrow was meant to heal. Not blood, but tears. The Materia he held in his hand was a Restore Materia. The power to heal. And within, he senses memories of such deep grief and compassion that merely holding it in his hand stole his breath and tore at his heart. This was the memory of one who wished for nothing more than the power to save those they loved. And, Pledge knew, that wish had not been granted. Not to the one who had truly needed it...

He opened his hand, let the Materia roll from his fingers. It fell to the sand with a soft thud. He watched it for a moment, as the ocean reached out to claim it. What would those memories be used for, if someone else had found it? Without compassion. As if it were little more than a weapon forged from cold steel. That pure wish would be lost to eternity and ignorance.

The Materia rolled, and started to drift.

What would his memories become when he had returned to the planet, if they became anything at all? Would the fury locked away inside of him become a demon? Or would his sorrow cleanse souls? He almost laughed at the idea of the latter. His sorrow would cleanse nothing, because it was entirely selfish. He was a murderer, and a coward who could not face his guilt. He spent his days running and hiding in the hope that his shame would not catch up with him. No, his memories would be tainted. They would become nothing more than tools to spill blood.

A memory of such purity as was in that Materia, gradually drifting a little further out with each wave, that was not something to be used lightly. Nor was it something to be discarded in such remiss. It was far too precious.

Catching his breath, Pledge strode towards it, where it rested on the wet sand as the waves drew back. The salt water washed up the shore once again, and the Materia was lost from view.

Panic. He threw himself at the place where he had last seen the Materia, groping under the water, turbid with sand particles, and his fingers found nothing. The water ebbed away again, and the Materia was gone.

Without thought, some frantic impulse forced him further out into the waves. The water was up to his knees... his waist... There was no hope of finding the Materia, he knew that. It would be washed along the sand at the bottom of the water, out into the endless grey.

Forever: the ocean.

He was still, staring out once more across that endlessness. The ocean's lament was for his foolishness now, at the loss of something so pure. He cursed it, and cursed the planet for mocking him, rage flooding up into his heart unbidden, even as he tried to suppress it.

He lashed out at the waves. Pointless. And the fact that it was impossible to hurt the ocean, to take his fury out on it, only made him more angry. No matter how he struck at it, he only succeeded in soaking himself to the skin, and getting stinging salt water in his eyes.

It took a long time to regain control. It always did. And when finally, the fury subsided, he found himself exhausted, freezing cold and drenched from head to toe, all the energy sapped from him. Half-blind from salt and sand particles in his eyes, he turned and struggled back towards the shore. It seemed his body was made out of lead, so difficult was it to just place one foot in front of the other. Dragging himself onto the pale sand, he collapsed onto it, too drained to move further, trembling with cold. He rolled onto his back, staring up at the grey sky.

If the ocean stretched forever, then how far did the sky stretch? The sky was as eternal and boundless as the void.

His own memories... he remembered the days he spent as a child in Cosmo Canyon, learning of the planet and the stars. The studies had always intrigued him, but at the same time, they were daunting. What was one life, lost in all of that?

Insignificant. Meaningless.

The shame closed about his heart, echoes of that day ringing in his ears, deafening him. Had his brother's life been meaningless? That life had returned to the planet, lost in the infinite. And no matter how much he tried to escape from it - no matter how far he ran - he knew it was his fault. It would haunt him for the rest of his life. He closed his eyes.

Sometimes he wished for death. But it was death that he feared more than anything.

So he would live on, a coward who could neither face his shame nor muster the strength of will to end it in a way that might let him keep just a fragment of honour.

He surrendered himself.

To the boundless sky, the vast ocean, and his own meaningless life.

Utterly meaningless.

[Cloud // Cid]

Darkness.

Forever in darkness.

Eternal pain.

Internal suffering.

Punishment for our crimes....

Falling to his knees, hands slamming onto the sandy coastline...Cloud had had enough.
Panting heavily as sweat dripped from his chin, the blonde raised his left hand and clenched his chest. His eyes shut tightly and teeth gritted in a tight lock; this pain was his punishment for being weak.
For being a puppet to a madman.
The pain swelled and churned within, almost as if something was actually alive in there...squirming around and using it's horribly clawed hands to squeeze and tug at Cloud's heart.
Du-dump, du-dump, du-dump.
He couldn't stand it anymore. Something had to go.

"...n...no..." Cloud whined quietly in pain, his right hand digging into the sand of which he was facing.
His eyes slowly opened, the pupils dilating much like that of a cat...exposed to too much light...before glowing a radiant mako-green.
Cloud gasped with releif as the pain finally eased itself away, relaxing all of his muscles...his joints gave way and all Cloud was greeted with upon his awakening was a face full of sand.
And he quite simply got back onto his feet...almost as if the 'attack' never happened.

"...wh...what's happening?" Cloud muttered, before rubbing his head tiredly.

...Cl...ou...d... a voice whispered.
The blonde shook his head to rid himself of the voice, and the constant echoes of whispers followed after it...was it Jenova?
Or...something else?

...re...le...ase... the voice whispered again.
Cloud rubbed his head and started walking again...he was still exhausted...after all, he did run quite a distance.
After taking a few steps forward, the blonde noticed a figure lying down, almost corpse-like in the distance.
All he had was nailbat, but something in his head clicked...springing him into alert.
Drawing the weapon forth, Cloud got into a defensive stance.
The being was still alive, he sensed it.

"You there! Who are you!?"

[Pledge]

Perhaps if he lay here for long enough, the life would drain away from him like water through his fingers...

It certainly felt that way. His clothes were soaked with salt water, and the cold wind and overcast sky wouldn't dry them any time soon. In the mean time, the icy water was sapping the heat from his body, and with it, his energy. At first he shivered, but then his body became so numb he couldn't feel the cold any more, and so he simply lay there, like a corpse washed in by the tide.

While his body was motionless, his thoughts were in chaos. With shame, despair, self-loathing... the broken fragments in his mind of what might have once been something positive cut him deep even as he reached out to grasp them, to make sense of them... And always, always, there was the sense of an utter lack of purpose to his existance. If he died now, would it matter? If he lived on, would anyone care? No. The answer was always no.

If he meant anything to anyone, it was as a murderer, and a coward. As one to be hated and loathed. The feral child who could not control his anger. The compulsive liar who claimed he "never meant to". The boy with an unstable mind, who was adamant he could "hear" the memories in the remnants of Lifestream that formed Materia... There was clearly something wrong with him.

He had never asked for this. No, he couldn't control the rage buried inside of him. Yes, that rage had hurt too many people... and yes, it had killed his brother. No, he was not a liar. No, he had never meant to hurt anyone. Why would anyone ever mean to do something like that?

And... the Materia... Was he insane? Was it all in his head? Or were these echoes of memories real? As real as they felt, he could never be certain. And yet, whether it was real or not, could he ever call himself sane? Just look at him. What sane person would be where he was now?

A breath on the wind.

What was that? He thought he'd heard movement, not too far away. Perhaps it was pack of Kalm Fangs, hunting for their next kill... Perhaps they would kill him. He would welcome it, and endless relief from "life", which was really only the time spent waiting to die. He would vanish into the infinite... And he would no longer be able to care. That was what he wanted. To no longer be tortured by his own thoughts. He feared death, but once he was dead, he would fear nothing. Perhaps he heard the sound of his death. And perhaps he had imagined it.

But even as he considered this, he realised it wasn't something he'd "heard", so much as something "felt". In a manner he was all-too familiar with. With a half-hearted curiousity, he reached out with his mind to find the ghost of the sensation.

The breath became a whisper, barely noticable at first. But once it touched the edges of his mind, it drew him, inexorably. There was something strange about it. Something turbulent and uncontrolled and forceful. He tried to pull away from it, to shut it out, and found, for the first time in his life, that he was completely unable to.

The whisper built to echoes, wild, full of fury, seeming almost to press themselves on his mind, refusing to be ignored. And gradually, the echoes stacked one on top of another, building to form the vague, indistinct impression of a memory.

Pledge drew in a sharp breath, his eyes snapping open. But rather than fading, drowned out by his other senses, the memories grew stronger.

What was this? A Materia, he knew that. But the memories within it were unlike anything he had ever sensed. They were age-old, and potent, and violent and hateful and destructive and... dark. So dark.

He would never have believed such extremes of emotion possible. That a mere memory of it could be so powerful was terrifying. The being that those memories belonged to... had it even been human?

A voice cut through his thoughts, and the disturbance seemed to break the hold of the memories on his mind. The mournful grey sky above drifted gradually back into focus. Pledge groaned, only dimly surprised by how difficult it seemed to be to raise one hand to his face. Attempting to brush away the sand from his mouth and eyes, his hand was more sandy than his face, so instead it had the opposite effect. Grimacing, spitting gritty sand from his mouth, Pledge half-rolled over, and lifted himself to his hands and knees, because it required less strength than sitting straight up.

The effort of moving sent blood flowing more strongly through his body, bringing sensation back to his numb muscles. And with sensation came agony. The agony of cold; ice in his veins. He found himself shivering uncontrollably once more.

"Idiot."

Those echoes were still there, in the back of his mind. And strangely, he felt his own rage reacting to it, bubbling up to the surface.

Sitting back on his heels, Pledge gazed around blankly in an attempt to locate the speaker. So distracted by the memories of the strange Materia, he had not taken note of which direction exactly the voice had come from. Even so, it didn't take long to find the stranger, stood not too far away, and holding a rather crude weapon.

Who was the stranger? He thought maybe he recognised him, but shrugged the feeling off. Why would he recognise anyone from this area? He never stayed in one place long enough to get to know anybody.

He opened his mouth to answer the question, changed his mind, closed his mouth again, looked decidedly puzzled for a good couple of minutes, then shook his head, slowly, because moving too quickly hurt.

"Who's asking?" he muttered, barely loud enough to be heard even without the sound of waves to drown his voice out.

[Cloud // Cid]

Cloud's senses really where powerful...he could feel that the being was still alive...and how much pain they where in.
Was this a trait of the black materia? or something else?
He watched silently, his eyes narrowed and almost cloaked in shadows casted by his blonde locks...his head lowered slightly, but maintaining his gaze on the stranger in the distance...who was now less of a corpse and more of an injured being.
The rage...the anger...the ultimate pain. He sensed it, he felt it.
The black materia began to churn within his torso once more, but the discomfort it was causing was minimal. Barely leaving any physical pain to the ex-SOLDIER.
He noticed the stranger's silence, and how they had taken direct notice of him...but chose to answer back with a question themselves quietly, just loud enough for the blonde to figure it all out.
A sign of ignorance.

"It's unheard of...people sleeping on the beach....hungry monsters everywhere...you have a deathwish." Cloud growled.
He then adjusted his posture into a more relaxed defensive stance, before clicking his neck to ease any tension he had left over.
But he had to answer the strangers question, ignoring him might cause problems.
And arguing with him will most likely result in needless violence or insult.

Se...phi...ro..th... the voice in his head whispered, almost as if it was telling him that was his name.
He shook off the voice and the whole idea...it was after all madness; sheer madness.

"Cloud. Strife." he answered, almost reluctantly.

[Pledge]

Pledge allowed himself a weak smile, which faded almost immediately.
"I wasn't sleeping," he murmured, no louder than before. "But then... maybe I do have a deathwish."

His tone was ironic. There was no "maybe" about it, he knew he had a deathwish. He thought about trying to stand, shifting his weight slightly, and then immediately sat back on his heels, as pain coursed through his body. Akashic Record weighed against his back like lead, and he could feel the brusies where he had been lying on it. He winced as he reached back to the weapon, but gritted his teeth against the pain, dragging the halberd from the straps on his back, and dropping it on to the sand beside him.

The memories from that Materia were powerful, and persistant. In vain, he tried to shut his mind against them, but the darkness was overwhelming, swamping his mind and smothering his thoughts. He seemed to have forgotten that Cloud had asked him a question already, staring blankly at the greenish metal of his weapon. His expression might have been thoughtful, if it weren't for the emptiness of his pale eyes.

"What... what is that Materia you have?" he said finally, glancing up at Cloud once again.

[Cloud // Cid]

Cloud's eyes widened instantly after the stranger asked what materia he had...and he asked in a way that sounded more like he KNEW Cloud had some on him.
But none where visible.

"Materia? I don't have any." Cloud answered dryly. He knew he had half the black materia in his chest, but chose to keep that quiet.
So many people where after that peice of crystal, and Cloud knew that those who where after it could only get his half one way.
Cutting him right open.
He shuddered at the thought before lowering his weapon slightly...after it became perfectly clear to the blonde that the stranger was too injured and weak to fight.
Cloud twitched in irritation after letting his guard down...something wanted to fight inside him, something else wanted to attack and kill...where as one other feeling in him...wanted nothing more than salvation.
But he couldn't tell where those feelings came from...he never felt them before.

"You still haven't told me, who you are." Cloud said coldly, still looking low to the ground...his eyes sheilded by shadows...their vibrant mako-green glowing in anticipation for a response.
Be it good, or bad.

[Pledge]

"Mm..." It was Pledge's only response to Cloud's denial of having any Materia on him. Was it his mind playing tricks on him, then? Was he really nothing but crazy? Or was the blonde simply hiding it from him? Any Materia filled with such hateful emotion must be incredibly destructive. And powerful. He didn't doubt that the stranger would want to keep such a weapon hidden. The problem was, it was impossible to tell whether or not he was imagining it.

"Whatever it is, don't bring it any closer," he muttered, just in case, rubbing his forehead distractedly.

He didn't doubt this stranger was a threat... the fact that he had his weapon ready made that obvious. But Pledge didn't particularly care. The more threats to his life, the more chances there were that it might actually end. He gave no reaction as Cloud lowered Nailbat. Glancing down at himself, he half-heartedly attempted to brush the sand from his clothes, but they were so wet the grains clung to them stubbornly, and he gave up almost immediately.

He glanced sideways at Cloud as the blonde asked him his name again, seeming to take longer than was entirely normal to decide what to say.
"Pledge," he said, finally, giving his fake name rather than his real one, and offered no further explaination.

[Cloud // Cid]

"I wouldn't dream of bringing 'whatever it is' any closer to you. It would probably kill me." Cloud coughed, sounding a little rattled by the black materia constantly stirring in his torso...almost as if it was about to rip clean out like an angry animal and strangle him, kill him for being so weak and ignorant.
Not like it's previous master.

"Pledge...that wasn't hard now, was it?" Cloud mocked, a slight chuckle in his voice.
He placed Nailbat across his back in what should have held First Tsurugi, but of course, after the inccident in Tifa's bar he fled without it.

"So what made you want to take a nap here, of all places? Guard Hounds and Kalm Fangs are quite common around here, they would have loved to have savaged you...and maybe any other passer by would be kind enough to get mauled too..." Cloud chuckled, almost as if enjoying the idea of seeing that happen.
But that wasn't like him at all...shaking his head to rid himself of the thoughts he coughed and tried to re-phrase his words.

"Forget I said that...What brings you here, Pledge? It's dangerous to rest around here."

[Pledge]

"I wouldn't be surprised," Pledge muttered vacantly, in response to Cloud's claim that the 'whatever it is' would kill him. So, he did have something. He supposed he should be thankful that he hadn't lost his mind. Not entirely, anyway. He ignored Cloud's comment about the 'difficulty' of giving his name, shrugging his shoulders, and immediately wishing his hadn't.

But the almost sadistic tone of the next words drew his attention, and he glanced back up at the blonde with a vaguely disinterested wariness. He almost replied, that he would welcome any monsters who felt like killing him, but thankfully Cloud cut in first, taking his own words back and rephrasing them.

"As I said before, I wasn't resting, I was..." he hesitated, as he realised he couldn't think of any half-sensible reason for being here, to give instead, and the memories of whatever Materia the blonde had were not making organising his thoughts any easier. He certainly couldn't just come out with his real reason for being here, because Cloud would think he was nuts. "I... I was..."

He dropped his gaze to the ground in front of him, looking utterly bewildered.

[Cloud // Cid]

"You have no idea why you're here? Hmph...how predictable." Cloud huffed, folding his arms and smirking as he chuckled under his breath.

"Not a lot of people know where they're going...or why they are where they are. It's part of human nature." Cloud muttered almost coldly as if he was talking to himself...but he was speaking loud enough for near-listeners to hear him, and he seemed to be directing his gaze towards Pledge...as if directing the words at him.

"To have one's judgement and perspective clouded by lies and constant denial of their actions, that is also part of human nature. As is the beleif that some day their problems will die away...just as the body does." Cloud muttered.
He then found a nearby boulder sticking out of the sand, and decided to take a seat on it...gazing out at the vast ocean.

"Just like a fish in the sea, the human mind can't comprehend the vastness of their actions...the concequences....and when they hear about it, they run away....seeking inner peace or...salvation." Cloud added, rubbing his head.
He then smirked again and chuckled, plucking out a strand of his own hair and examining it with intrest.

"And people only change because of their past actions...to hide their resent, their fear and their anger....just like the hairs on my own head....a symbol of past sins and stupid decisions. Visible for all to see. And the pain inside for me to feel." Cloud sighed, before allowing the strand of hair to blow from his hand and through the breeze. Casting it forth into the sky.

"You're running because of a decision made in the past, aren't you? It's always the same excuse, the same reason...the very same thing that makes you want to crawl into a corner and simply die. Casting your very existance into oblivion, your inability to cause any more damage to others around you puts your mind at rest...as your soul." Cloud questioned.
He clenched his left fist and stared at it for a few seconds, before sighing heavily and glancing at Pledge once more.

"...but of course, you understand that in death, you cause more problems for others than if you where alive."

[Pledge]

Pledge was silent through the entire speech, watching Cloud with rather more interest than he'd shown previously. Every word resonated in his mind with such unbearable clarity that he almost couldn't breathe. So much of what the blonde said was true, it was almost painful.

He let the silence drag out for a long time without replying, staring down at the sand thoughtfully. Moving from his kneeling position into a sitting one, he rested his arms on his knees and his chin on his arms.

"I'm not running from a decision. I'm running from... from an action that I had no control over. I don't believe we ever really decide what happens in life. We're nothing more than... than dust blowing in the wind. We have no control over anything, over what we do or where we go, or who we are."

But it was the last words that Cloud had spoken that were stuck in his mind, and he closed his eyes briefly, considering their meaning.

"Life is nothing more than waiting to die. Death is an end to problems. And as for others... I should think anyone who knows me would be happier if I were dead."

He'd never admitted anything to anyone, so why now? Perhaps because of what Cloud had said - they mirrored his own thoughts and feelings so strongly that he felt the blonde might... what? Understand him? He wasn't really sure.

"But in spite of everything, in spite of how much I wish for death, there is nothing I fear more. And still I live. I must wait until the wind stops blowing, and live with my shame until then."

[Cloud // Cid]

The blonde sighed heavily before rubbing his torso gently, to ease the dark magic churning in his chest.
He glanced away from Pledge and narrowed his eyes as if feeling weak and fradgile...almost as if he was just stabbed in the chest by an assasin, left to die in all his self loathing and doubt.

"Everyone beleives the age old myth of death bringing peace to everyone...as do they beleive life is exactly like the lifestream...flows and repeats itself. Forever. Just as the wind blows it's eternal gust." Cloud began.

"A challange is thrown at you when that wind blows hard, and if you step behind cover you basicly give up. But if you push hard against it, then you put up a fight and either succeed in your goal or die with honour trying." Cloud answered.

"If you die without trying first, you die a coward. Like most humans do...they set themselves a path but are afraid to tred it...and even more afraid of failing at it. The human mind is a real diallema." Cloud smirked, closing his eyes gently as he felt the warmth of the materia ease his chest...releasing him from it's frantic magic and throbbing pains.

"You're not wrong though...to live is simply to die. The real puzzle is; why do people expect life to be something more? When really it is meaningless?"

[Pledge]

Pledge's body was still trembling with cold, but he did his best to ignore it. Listening to his own thoughts spoken by another seemed to make them seem even more depressing and pathetic than they already were. Perhaps because it proved that it wasn't just his imagination. There was an ironic smile on his lips as he replied.

"You're contradicting yourself. If you're right, and life is completely meaningless, then when the wind blows, there's no point in fighting it," his pale eyes seemed dull and empty as he fixed them on Cloud. "What's the difference between dying like a coward, or dying with your pride in tact, if there's no meaning to either? 'Honour' is a concept invented by those who could not accept that their lives, and their deaths, mean nothing."

The faint green glow from the three blades of Akashic Record seemed sickly in the fading daylight. Pledge gazed absently at the weapon for a while, in silence. Moving one hand to trace the swirls of silver inlaid in the blades, he let out a quiet, strained laugh that was as cold as the steel beneath his fingertips.

"I'm not afraid of treading the path laid in front of me - the wind has brought me this way, and in letting it, I've already sacrifice everything of any meaning to me. I have nothing left to lose. And I'm not afraid of failing, because in treading this path, I've already failed." He shook his head slowly. "I'm not fighting, but neither am I running. I'm not trying to escape my shame. That will be with me to my death. I'm letting the wind carry me as far from the people who know of it as possible, to make it so I don't have to face their... their disappointment, their loathing... whatever it is they feel towards me. If had stayed, I would be a constant reminder of the pain I caused them, and that is not what I want to be. I'm treading this path, far from them, in the hope that, in my absense, they might be able to forget what I have done. Not forgive - just forget."

Who could forgive a murderer?

"The fact is, I can't change anything. And it's pointless to try. Nothing would change how people saw me. Nothing would change how I see myself. I don't expect the people who know my shame to ever forgive me. But perhaps, if they could forget me, they could go back to living... the way things were before. Even if there is... something... something important missing. Maybe they will be able to hold on to the illusion that their lives have meaning, and they would not have to live how I live, or feel how I feel. That's as much as I am able to do for them. As for me... I will follow the wind, until it finally stops blowing, at the end of my path, and I can settle into stillness... surrender to the infinite nothingness... that I believe is death."

His body was beginning to numb again. His blood felt as though it was frozen in his veins. He knew he should be moving around, trying to warm his icy muscles up, but he didn't have the energy for it. Closing his eyes, he matched his breathing to the waves once more.

"In death, I will no longer have to think or feel, and I will no longer be tortured by my thoughts and feelings. My shame will remain, always, but my mind and my heart will no longer be able to trick me into believing that it means anything... Even if others are still under the illusion of it meaning something... I can only hope they are able to forget. Is that... Is that selfish?" he paused, then laughed once more; a cold, self-mocking laugh. "...Of course it is. Everything is selfish. But what else can I do?"

The fact was, he didn't care any more. He'd done all he could to ease the wounds of the past for those people who were precious to him. He may not have chosen the right things to do, but at least he had tried. And now there was nothing left for him but to wander, without purpose, burdened by his shame, suffocated by pain - physical, mental, emotional... And he had had enough of all of it.

"Death brings peace only at a lack of all else. And I would gladly discard all else."

[Cloud // Cid]

Cloud sighed heavily before removing Nailbat from his back, tossing it in front of him effortlessly...sand flying up into the wind as it landed with a deep and heavy thud.

"Death brings nothing." Cloud muttered, before narrowing his eyes angrily and glaring towards pledge.

"If anything...death is overrated...it's not what people make it out to be." Cloud growled. Where did that come from? Death? Not like people say? How would he know!?
He shuddered at the thought of it, how was he seeing these things? Feeling these things?
Then, it hit him. A new goal in life.

"To feel nothing, is true peace. Feel no emotions...not chained down by promises, held at bay by loved ones or even tied to honour or servitude. If I could find a way to rid myself of all my emotions...then maybe I might find salvation within myself."

[Pledge]

"Mm..." Pledge didn't even open his eyes as Cloud tossed Nailbat onto the sand, even though he heard the soft thud. So naturally, he didn't notice Cloud's glare. He did, however, hear the anger in his voice. He lifted his shoulders slightly, once Cloud had finished speaking. "I believe the only escape from emotion is death. Emotion is conciousness, and conciousness is Lifestream. Without Lifestream, there's nothing. No life."

A shiver ran down his spine at a cold gust of wind, which whipped his hair into his face. Running a hand through his hair to brush it out of his face, he opened his eyes once more, their dull yellow colour seeming faded almost to white.

"People always seem to feel that they're 'drawn' to something in life, some 'destiny' or the like, something they're supposed to be searching for... but all it is, all that's drawing them, all that they're searching for, is death. Even though they never realise it. It's all self-delusion."


((Bad post.))