recolle | June catch-all (open)

This far, indeed. Some of his other kitchenware had not fared so favorably. But Genesis was patient, Andrew was going through a tough time when it came to Zack, a man that was merely an acquaintance at the time. The one next to his bookstore was not the one Andrew knew.

It was odd and more than a little confusing.

Also, Andrew's bear hugs threatened to leave bruises (okay he had like one so far, but honestly it was a non-issue). But what he hadn't expected in the second day of this new month was the smell of what was unmistakably miso soup. He knew he had plenty of the instant stuff, but given the sounds from above and the longevity of whatever Andrew was making... Genesis wondered if he making the soup from scratch.

He soon found out once he closed up for the night, still a bit annoyed at the paint splattered books within but nothing could be done now. He made his way upstairs and removed his shoes at the door, stepping into a pair of slippers and moving the kitchen.

"You know," He started with a laugh as he leaned against the doorframe. "It probably would have been easier to use the packets I have in the cupboard."

Andrew was trying. He had been trying, very, very hard, to not damage anything, but even with the practice last night, the discrepancy in speed and strength was pretty sizable, and he was... he was, perhaps, a tad clingy, too.

But he was drawing the line, for himself, at any more bruises.

Gen's words earned him a smile, though it was a little sad. Not tired, he was still working on the limits of his endurance like this, but sad.

"I was not looking for 'easier,' to be honest. Getting right something useful, on the other hand? I was going for that. How was your day?" NNNnnnothing to see here. He was fine.

Edited 2018-06-03 21:59 (UTC)

"Mm. It was alright. Business as usual," He walked in and leaned against the counter to see how the soup was turning out, his hand resting between Andrew's shoulder blades and gently rubbing. "Practicing with what you're familiar with would probably be ideal is all I was saying. Smells good, though."

Then, he reached over to take the ladle. "May I?"

Andrew took in a shuddering breath, and then another, slightly easier.

"I'd say that familiar things no longer seem to work, but this one does. But I just... looked at the pre-packaged stuff this morning and the thought of making that was just. Not enough. And I thought, how hard could it really be?"

Not too hard, he thought, to make edible miso. For the good stuff, on the other hand? Yeah. He'd had to work, and he liked it.

"But yeah... yes, please."

It actually wasn't too difficult to make from scratch, just took more time. He grabbed one of the smaller bowls and poured some of the soup within, getting a few tofu chunks and seaweed. He grabbed a spoon then to get taste, blowing on it to prevent himself from burning his tongue.

He nodded after a few moments. "Not bad. How much miso paste did you use?"

He wasn't sure what seemed to be a little lacking, but something was. Not that it made much of a difference, it really was a decent first try.

Not bad, Genesis said, but Andrew could see - or rather, he couldn't see the way Gen's face lit up when it was really good. Which... He should have expected it, and it meant that he had room for improvement, but still. He'd been hoping, a little.

Deep breath, then he slid across towards Gen the notebook he'd jotted down the recipe in.

"That's what I was working off of."

Genesis took a look at the notebook and the instructions within, eyes going back to the soup. It seemed to all be in order. The miso actually seemed to be just fine, there was a decent amount of tofu and seaweed bits. Perhaps it was just the size portion relative to the size of the soup pan?

This would feed more than two and the recipe didn't have a large serving size it seemed. He reached for the miso paste and added an extra tablespoon followed by one more teaspoon of dried wakame. After stirring it a bit, he tried it again. "Hm. You try. What do you think?"

It seemed almost the same as restaurant quality. Genesis wasn't exactly looking for that, but this was honestly close enough. But still, he wanted Andrew to give his thoughts.

Excuse Andrew as he spent that duration of time just looking at Genesis's face. Well, mostly. He did take note of what and how much Gen added, but mostly, he was fascinated by the little play of concentration and decision that played along his features.

By the time Gen offered the taste, the wrinkle between Andrew's brows wasn't smoothed out, but it was definitely a little smoother.

He dipped his head to take that taste, then nodded. "Definitely better. So, I shouldn't be conservative with these. Or, perhaps, I shouldn't be shy." His eyes crinkled slightly. Not even close to a decent flirt attempt, but hey. Closer to it than he had been over the last day or so.

"I'll experiment more tomorrow, I think this is edible now. Yeah?"

Genesis was a miracle in his life, in so many ways. And, right now, he could even ground him.

Cloud had ignored his ticket for a "black orb" for weeks now, but suddenly the mailbox in front of the Wiffle-Waffle was the best place to be in the whole city. Andrew was getting a sword. From the same world as Zephyr. From the same world as the Masamune. Cloud was even more excited to see it than he would be if a sword addressed to him had shown up. His own sword belonged to a lunatic.

Having shown up early, Cloud redeemed his own ticket. Yep, a black orb. Shrugging, he stuck it in a pocket and quickly forgot all about it by the time Andrew showed up.

"Hi! Have you ever gotten anything from them before?"

Andrew had had the ticket for a while. Days, really. But since he'd been doing things that could mostly be qualified as community service, he'd just ignored the awareness of it.

But there were things that ought to be done about the monsters outside of the city, possibly to recover tho roads to the other regions, and, well.

He was a little more durable, now.

But, durable or not, a weapon would be a good idea.

After the excursion in February, he had gotten a permit and a gun, because he recalled Zack had brought that, but... well. A sword somehow felt more fitting, when it came to monsters.

"Hi. And no, I have not. From the little glimpses I remember, I don't think he had all that many things for me to get. Though I might be wrong. Let's see what this is."

Sword and harness. Andrew punched in the ticket, then reached inside the mailbox, carefully, until he located the hilt. Wrapping his hand around it felt... familiar, somehow. A light pull let him know this was going to be heavy, so he pulled it out, carefully, with his strength controlled, his eyes widening as it became visible.

"Oh. It's that sword."

This, he remembered.

Holding it upright, he reached with his other hand for the harness. He might need it, since this was likely going to be inconvenient to carry in his hand all the time, and he somehow didn't think 'sheathed at the waist' would work.

A quick, sideways look at Cloud.

"This, I remember."

And he gripped the hilt in both hands, raising the sword in front of his face and leaning his forehead against it.

It was likely only the memory of the sensation, but again, just like then, he felt at peace. More so than he had in days.

(Was he surprised that this sword could fit into that mailbox? No. After all, Kenta had gotten a whole horse from it.)

This was a little different than when Zephyr got his sword. It belonged to Andrew not just in his other life, but he was already attuned to it in this one. Was it a feeling, or just an intellectual knowledge from some kind of pleasant memories?

It was also exactly the same. The design and craftsmanship were beyond anything that could be accomplished by mere mortals. Though Cloud suspected that he would never be allowed to touch this one, he was strangely okay with that. It was with its true master, and interfering with that synergy in any way would seem like a sacrilege.

"It's beautiful. What's its name?"

Annnd here was Andrew blinking it Cloud.

"Name?" Uh. All right, it did feel like a pretty important weapon. Except. "I guess I don't remember that. Just doing this, and a sense of commitment. And peace." He almost, almost smiled.

"Sorry. I thought I'd try and see how it feels. Mind holding it for a bit? It's pretty heavy."

What was that about not being allowed to touch it?

"Huh? Oh, sure!" Cloud grasped it by the handle and steadily but easily took all its weight in one hand. Yeah, it really was heavy. And beautiful.

Suppressing the urge to start swinging it around to test the balance, he rested the flat of the blade on his fingertips so he could examine the edge close up. It was just as unworldly in its masterful crafting as Zephyr's Masamune. Cloud marveled at the feel of it in his hands, the heft and center of gravity. It was so unlike traditional sword design.

"It's... perfect." Strangely literally perfect in Cloud's hands. Yet it was unquestionably Andrew's sword. How? They were completely different in height and build, it shouldn't fit both of them that well.

Beat.

"I see that I shouldn't worry about you falling behind out there." Then he shrugged, frowning at the sword as he shrugged on the harness. He didn't know if it was beautiful, or perfect. It just was, and maybe he was imagining it, but it felt like a center of gravity for him, something that set the world right. Just a little.

He let Cloud observe it for a little more, then held out his hand. Let's check if that harness thing works.

Falling behind? Cloud wasn't sure what that meant. He rotated it so the grip was in front of Andrew in a convenient grabbing orientation.

"Maybe it represents an ideal or is part of a respected legacy. Something your past self truly believed in. A religious order or a band of knights, maybe. Or something you earned for valor."

He could easily believe that any of those things applied to Andrew.

The enhanced strength, that's what he meant. But that was all right.

Andrew took the sword, carefully, then swung it over his shoulder, going half by intuition, until it ended up solidly attached against the magnetic area at the back of the harness.

"Huh." That did work.

Then he shook his head at Cloud. "I might not remember it, but I don't think he was much into religion. Dreams, and honor. Heroes, I think, too." Knights did not fit quite right, but it didn't not, either, not with that memory of a ... lecture? That he'd given the Genesis of that world. "I'd say that feels familiar, but I'm not sure I want to get that comfortable with his memories."

How did you...

[Cloud circled around behind Andrew to have a look. Yes, it really was resting securely on Andrew's back for no visible reason.]

What's holding it on?

Magnet, I think. The ticket said something like 'sword and magnetic harness.'

[ So he's assuming. ]

[Cloud came back around to face Andrew, hesitating a little.]

I know its name. It's called the "Buster Sword"... and I - the other me - ... It was my sword, too. I don't know how.

... what...

[ Andrew frowned a little at the blond. He hadn't had any memories, he truly hadn't, and yet... ]

This sword, apparently,, signified... Angeal's family honor.

[ Not Andrew's. But in its way, close enough.

Why would a family heirloom belong to someone else? Andrew was pretty sure that he would have known, had they been related.

Wouldn't he? ]

An... ge-al?

[The name meant nothing to Cloud, but it was obviously important anyway. So was the sword. That it could represent honor - ANDREW'S sense of honor - made it suddenly seem a thousand times heavier than it actually was. And it was already heavy.]

Maybe I wasn't born yet? When it was yours.

[Cloud looked NOTHING like Andrew. Besides, what could the lunatic he'd nicknamed "Stormcloud" have possibly done to earn something like that? Maybe he had managed to redeem himself despite everything? Just imagining it made Cloud feel bizarrely... grounded.]

Mm. Angeal was close in age to Sephiroth. Closer than Zephyr and I are, in fact.

[ So much easier to keep the distance from the other people when even the names were different. ]

And Zephyr mentioned that you had memories together.

[ Neutrally said because if Cloud didn't need to get upset, then Andrew wasn't going to make him so. ]

[Cloud's brow furrows in annoyance.]

Zeph also said he wasn't exactly human what we knew each other. Who knows what that means, in a world with magic and super-soldiers. He might have been a lich-lord by then.

[ Andrew's flinch is... almost imperceptible.

Almost.

Not exactly human.

Monster... ]

Let's go try to clear those roads a little.

[Cloud looks at Andrew's sword harness again with a critical eye.]

Do you think that thing would stay on your back if we take my bike? There are some obstacles lying around on the major streets and it's a LOT more maneuverable than a car.

Hmm.

[ And then Andrew is sprinting, only enough to be able to do a running leap and air-roll, leap and roll-twist in the air. The sword doesn't budge at his back. He turns back to Cloud, walking at a brisk pace. ]

I think it'll be fine.

[Cloud's eyes go wide and he starts laughing.]

Icy Shiva, that was awesome! Come on.

[There are various swords of different shapes and sizes clipped securely to the sides of the motorcycle, none of them truly remarkable, some in better condition than others. He hadn't been wearing his helmet when he got there, but it was in a storage compartment on his bike along with a jumble of tools and spare parts. Cloud pulls it out and offers it to Andrew.]

Heh. Thanks.

[ Listen. If he's going to have the energy, might as well make use of it. The smirk fades away fast, and he takes note of the exclamation Cloud uses. From all the gaming and stuff that he knows of the blond, it might be something very this-world based. Or it could be a shard of memory, slipping by unnoticed.

He squints a little at the swords, giving them a quick scan, rather than a detailed examination, but he swings on the bike readily enough, taking on the helmet and strapping it on. ]

You should stay in the habit of wearing this, you know. [ Just a remark - and he can explain why, if Cloud asks - but he doesn't try to push it on the younger man now.

Instead, he taps the side of a sword handle. ]

Taking your work with Zephyr seriously?

[Cloud IS going to ask, looking up over his shoulder ]

How come? It cuts down on visibility. Besides, my own head is harder than the helmet now. Literally, instead of just figuratively.

Because, unless things stay very, very wrong, there will be people who may stop you for not wearing the helmet. Not to mention the kind of example you're setting for those whose heads are not anywhere near as durable.

[ Current emptiness of the city aside... not existing in a vacuum. ]

But it doesn't matter that much now, no.

From here.

Andrew was moving carefully when he stepped inside the dojo. He'd spent hours out on the beach, trying to get a better handle at what he could do now, but it just made his thoughts circle back to Zack, and that was...

It wasn't good.

But he was attentive and careful when he went over, because there was a discussion to have, before attempting once more to turn off his mind.

"Hey." Easy, almost light. Whatever might have been on his face, around his eyes, he moved as though he was freshly woken up and energized.

Sephiroth had just made it to the dojo. He could be seen tying on his kendogi before turning to greet Andrew with a grim smile. The dojo had been repainted but it looked like the work of an MS Paint job, which was just irksome.

"Hey," he said, waving him in. "You look like you've seen better days."

What didn't look like a MS Paint job, these day? Everyone's clothes included?

"If I had my way, I'd be looking way worse and in no condition to do much but crash and sleep for about twelve hours. But it seems Retrospec has other plans and I've acquired some... extra. So I'm fine."

Physically, he was. Other than that... well. Upset and angry. No great deal.

True. It was awful for someone with fashion sense. But he wasn't about go around in 'Sephiroth's' uniform. Zephyr moved to the rack of shinai, picking out one each for them both.

"Want to talk about it?"

Well. They had established that the five of them, at least, came from the same world, so this was probably relevant. Andrew crossed his arms and looked away.

"A friend left the city a couple of days ago. Zack Fairweather. Who I know I shared special memories with, before he lost the app. Yesterday, another Zack got the app. He looks similar enough to my friend that I'm wondering if he's going to get his memories."

Wondering may be a little bit understating it. He kept still for a moment, then let out a loud breath. "Which is neither Zack's fault, of course."

Wait, what? He stared at Angeal incredulously. "Another Zack?" It was one thing to get these memories of past lives but to have their 'real' selves replicated just like that. "Does he remember anything yet?"

Quick glance at Zeph, before he shook his head. "He's only had the thing since last night, Zephyr. If he's gotten any memory yet, he's not mentioned it to me."

But yes, another Zack. And no, Andrew was not okay about this. Because he knew that he was going to do his best to be there for that Zack, as well, and it felt, deep down, like he was betraying his friend, a guy who'd had his back and who relied on him.

"Right." It was just startling, considering he had seen Zack just a couple months ago. They weren't close but still. The implications had him reeling but this wasn't about him. No matter what he thought about it.

"Even if he gets the same memories, it doesn't negate your friendship."

Andrew had seen Zack far more recently, since he'd been hanging out with him even after he lost the app, just like he had before either of them had it.

And though it had only been a couple of days, what with communications cut off, he had the feeling that he was going to be missing him him something fierce.

Then Zephyr's words come, and Andrew's fists clench, just for a moment before he carefully opens them. No. No anger. He could cause a lot of damage, just now, and he should not. Think. Think.

"Sure it doesn't. There's just a guy here possibly to replace him." Finally, he looked over to the kendoka properly. "In my memories, I trained him, Zephyr. In his, I saved him from monsters. And now I not only can't talk to him about that, I can't talk to him at all." Because, well. Out of town, now.

Long, slow breath.

"Usually, when I'm this angry and need to remember that it's not about me, I'd go out and train until I can barely move and definitely can't think or do anything stupid, then sleep it off and deal with the situation afresh. But last night? Well, Zack - my Zack - had gotten super strength, before he lost the app. I've got that, since last night. And speed. And endurance.

"I can't exhaust myself that way. So I thought. Only if you're up for it. To go up against your skill. Shut down my thought by having to really focus."

It feels like there's something he could say about that. But he bites his tongue instead. Somehow he can tell how much this is bothering Andrew and if he needs something to take his mind off the problem.

Well, that's why he started the dojo to begin with, isn't it?

"Understood."

He tightens the knots of the hakama, stows it away, and heads over to the racks, picking out a shinai and tossing it to Andrew.

"Shall we?" he asks with just a hint of a smirk.

Not that Andrew would have fumbled the catch anyway, but right now it was even more clearly easy, and the swish of the blade as he moves around with it a bit to get its weight and balance is faster than usual.

And, look, he's not going for something actually unhealthy. He's not even hiding what the point of the whole thing is, not trying to use Zephyr without his knowledge or anything like that.

But at least the smirk helps. "Please. Give me your best."

Which Zeph might have to do, because enhanced speed with Andrew's habit of focusing is a combination pretty difficult to break.

Hey, neither of them are using real blades and while risk of a bludgeoning seems highly likely now, he trusts Angeal to know when and where to hold back. He's been quite the star pupil after all.

He settles into the standard kendo stance, holding the shinai two-handed. Once Angeal is ready, he lets out a cry and steps forward quickly, striking twice head on and then alternating between a left, right, and yet another central strike.

Andrew is unlikely to bludgeon anything or anyone - especially since he is not going to be trying to hit anything.

He parries maybe two of the strikes, but he actually ducks the rest, his body moving just a little too fast for even the practiced blade of the kendoka to catch up with him. His own motions are quiet, nearly silent.

"This may take a while." Except for coherent words.

June catch-all (open)

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