Categories > Games > Final Fantasy 7 > Center of the World
The rough, jolting ride in the truck is getting to him. The boat was okay; at least he could breathe. The truck is too confined, hot and stuffy. He feels trapped, suffocated.. His headache is back; he feels like he’s swimming in mud. Cloud, poor kid, looks like he’d put his ShinRa issue rifle in his mouth if he weren’t afraid to open it. He’s pale and silent, and looks as though he hasn‘t slept in days.
Zack breathes deeply and concentrates on Gongaga, where they may stop on the return trip, time permitting. It’s been almost eight years since he's seen his parents. He wonders if they look different now. His father’s hair was graying when he left. He wonders if fine lines have grown deep and craggy on his weathered, solemn face. His father didn’t smile much. His mother’s smile was kind and toothy, but he can’t picture it. He thinks about his own face instead, thinking ‘my father’s jaw, a crooked broken nose that looks like Grandpa Jim’s’ He had his mothers eyes, before, deep stormy grey. Now his eyes are blue, in some bizarre combination of nature and the mako burning through his veins. The day he left, before dawn, her eyes were watching out the window when he looked back one last time. So it could live in his memories, he thought, but now all he sees is her eyes, so sad and tired.
He thinks about Del Sol, and Tina, and too many drinks; about Reasons. Zack knows he has Reasons. They were clear to him last night, in the stillness and the quiet. Today he's sober but the rain is dismal, fogging his mind more than liquor. There are laws against fraternization, but he’s broken them before; breaks them every day just by being friends with Cloud and nobody’s said anything. Either they don’t care or Sephiroth is running interference. Aeris... but he’s slept around before, and Cloud knows it. It’s never meant anything, and he’s not sure if it would with Cloud. Not sure if Cloud wants something he can’t give, or if he wants something that isn’t real. He leans his head back against the truck wall, listening to the angry shudder of rain on metal.
“Did you see the sunset, sir?” he asks Sephiroth.
“No,” Sephiroth replies coldly, glaring as if to imply that he should know better than to disturb the general while he’s thinking about a mission.
“Nibelheim is better,” Cloud murmurs, with something like pride in his voice. It’s the first thing he’s said about his hometown since they left Midgar. It’s the first time he’s mentioned Nibelheim with anything other than bitterness.
“It sure is raining hard,” Zack says, to fill the silence. Cloud leans forward, arms resting heavily on his knees. He looks so small in ShinRa blue.
“Hey, how are you doing?” Zack asks, wondering if they should maybe pull over for a bit. They don’t have to be at the reactor until tomorrow, after all.
Cloud looks up at him, eyes deep blue and impenetrable, like thunderheads longing to empty their loads on the thirsting earth. Zack stands up, stretching stiff muscles. Vertebrae in his back snap dully. He paces restlessly. Andrews coughs.
“Everything okay?” Zack asks, stopping in front of Andrews and folding his arms across his chest.
“Hey,” Sephiroth snaps to get his attention. “Settle down.”
Zack moves to the middle of the truck and does squats, just to piss him off. He really shouldn’t be provoking Sephiroth. The general is always short with him, with everyone, before a mission. The bigwigs really need to let him out to play more often.
“You going to brief us about his mission?” Zack asks, because he can see that twitch starting in Sephiroth’s temple.
“This isn’t a typical mission…”
---
Yep, dialogue is mostly right out of the game.
Zack breathes deeply and concentrates on Gongaga, where they may stop on the return trip, time permitting. It’s been almost eight years since he's seen his parents. He wonders if they look different now. His father’s hair was graying when he left. He wonders if fine lines have grown deep and craggy on his weathered, solemn face. His father didn’t smile much. His mother’s smile was kind and toothy, but he can’t picture it. He thinks about his own face instead, thinking ‘my father’s jaw, a crooked broken nose that looks like Grandpa Jim’s’ He had his mothers eyes, before, deep stormy grey. Now his eyes are blue, in some bizarre combination of nature and the mako burning through his veins. The day he left, before dawn, her eyes were watching out the window when he looked back one last time. So it could live in his memories, he thought, but now all he sees is her eyes, so sad and tired.
He thinks about Del Sol, and Tina, and too many drinks; about Reasons. Zack knows he has Reasons. They were clear to him last night, in the stillness and the quiet. Today he's sober but the rain is dismal, fogging his mind more than liquor. There are laws against fraternization, but he’s broken them before; breaks them every day just by being friends with Cloud and nobody’s said anything. Either they don’t care or Sephiroth is running interference. Aeris... but he’s slept around before, and Cloud knows it. It’s never meant anything, and he’s not sure if it would with Cloud. Not sure if Cloud wants something he can’t give, or if he wants something that isn’t real. He leans his head back against the truck wall, listening to the angry shudder of rain on metal.
“Did you see the sunset, sir?” he asks Sephiroth.
“No,” Sephiroth replies coldly, glaring as if to imply that he should know better than to disturb the general while he’s thinking about a mission.
“Nibelheim is better,” Cloud murmurs, with something like pride in his voice. It’s the first thing he’s said about his hometown since they left Midgar. It’s the first time he’s mentioned Nibelheim with anything other than bitterness.
“It sure is raining hard,” Zack says, to fill the silence. Cloud leans forward, arms resting heavily on his knees. He looks so small in ShinRa blue.
“Hey, how are you doing?” Zack asks, wondering if they should maybe pull over for a bit. They don’t have to be at the reactor until tomorrow, after all.
Cloud looks up at him, eyes deep blue and impenetrable, like thunderheads longing to empty their loads on the thirsting earth. Zack stands up, stretching stiff muscles. Vertebrae in his back snap dully. He paces restlessly. Andrews coughs.
“Everything okay?” Zack asks, stopping in front of Andrews and folding his arms across his chest.
“Hey,” Sephiroth snaps to get his attention. “Settle down.”
Zack moves to the middle of the truck and does squats, just to piss him off. He really shouldn’t be provoking Sephiroth. The general is always short with him, with everyone, before a mission. The bigwigs really need to let him out to play more often.
“You going to brief us about his mission?” Zack asks, because he can see that twitch starting in Sephiroth’s temple.
“This isn’t a typical mission…”
---
Yep, dialogue is mostly right out of the game.
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