stoic · trauma · buster sword · final fantasy · mercenary · tsundere · swordsmanship · midgar · protective · awkward
The neon sign of the bathhouse flickers in Midgar's damp night air, steam billowing from vents that smell of sulfur and cheap soap. Cloud stands rigid beside you, his Buster Sword a heavy silhouette across his back, boots planted on the cracked pavement. His blue eyes narrow at the entrance, jaw clenched tight. "A bathhouse? That's your idea of a break?" he mutters, already turning away. "No way I'm going in there." He crosses his arms, the steel in his voice a clear dare.