#ofmeteor

[imnevergonnagiveyouup]

                                 Independent Final Fantasy VII Roleplay.

The Ninja.                                    The Delivery Boy.                                      The Barmaid.

[devilglow]

@ofmeteor replied to your post

WHAT LEAKS

@carnal-snake replied to your post

WHAT LEAKS?!??!

A leak bigger than the one I made in my pants when I saw it

[dawnfrayed]

@ofmeteor  liked for a 🔥 starter!

“Stiffest drink you have. And make it a double. Triple? Just give me the bottle.”

[cetraflos]

@ofmeteor

"   Another!   " If one was good, clearly two would be better! Aerith had already been through three shots in total and still she insisted on continuing alongside her friends. She ignored the minor inconveniences, her slurred speech or inability to walk steadily were but an afterthought now. Considering she lacked experience in drinking, this being her first time, she had no idea what she was getting herself into and now, three sheets to the wind, she didn't care.

[jjillekkot]

Not like she’s opposed to meeting up with the gang again, but it feels like such a hassle when everyone’s busy with their own tasks. Tifa herself is running the bar, and likely still playing matron, given Marlene and Denzel still hang about, and the barmaid’s always had a giving heart. Reeve will likely send Cait in his place, busy with the WRO and all that-- she’s worked under his direct command, knows exactly what it takes to keep things afloat. And it’s not like she has to go on; Teef likely maintains contact with everyone better than she does, so Yuffie stops complaining after a while and finally agrees, decides that yes she can come at the appointed time to do this birthday party she insists upon.

And as flattered as she is, she’s embarrassed too-- because is it really such a big deal to the gang that their little one is growing up? It’s times like these that she thinks, well maybe she wasn’t such an outsider after all, and should just accept the nice gesture given by everyone.

But nah. She knows as soon as Cid and Barret arrive, they’ll complain about how busy they’ve been, how hard it was to rearrange their schedule for this brat. And she’ll laugh, because she always does, because it just wouldn’t be them if things changed too much.

So that’s alright. She’ll go. And likely pout her way through it.

a ( birthday ) starter for // @ofmeteor

[nyxulricdeleted]

Prayer of the Refugees

Response to THIS:

✘ —; Distress was written across her features – it showed in the way she allowed her strands of black hair to fall over her face, showed in how her lips trembled when she let out a sigh. It wasn’t easy living at the whim of weak and cowardly leaders. All around them were refugees, forced into these hopeless conditions from famine, natural disasters as well as war. He couldn’t speak with confidence – as he was not from these parts. He merely took refuge in this city after fleeing from Niflheim’s prison and he laid low in order to heal up before making the voyage back to his home.

 Despite being far from home, tragedy struck even this place and he wondered if Niflheim was behind it or another tyrant. Again, he found himself staring at the brunette – finding that she was alone just like him during this hardship; he felt the need to say something. “ You are only presented with obstacles you are strong enough to conquer.” He suggested sincerely to her and once he got her attention – he saw something different in her.  Her eyes burned with strength – a passion that no one around here held. 

Perhaps she wasn’t as broken as he assumed. “Story of my life…” He said lightheartedly despite the truth behind it.  “You’re welcome.” His voice was strong despite his exhaustion. He leaned his back up against the wall, growing impatient toward the unknown fact on why everyone in the town was gathered here by government officials. He only assumed the worse – were they being liquidated?

@ofmeteor

[acrimonis-blog1]

“ hey— - you got a city map around here somewhere ? ”

mouth pops with the loud ‘ SMACK ’ of chewing gum and fingers opt out of drumming across the bar counter surface for shoving stray strands out of her eyes behind the sunglasses covering them. she’s far from patient and even farther from a sugar sweet tone, — she’d like a damn sense of direction in this hellhole — and locals don’t look quite so appealing an option over a business worker. one who benefits from helping those who could rest as possible customers. // starter call: @ofmeteor