Snow jolted awake, kicked back into consciousness by the scare of a bad dream. That was all it was to him. Reality warping, darkness taking him -- he'd had that dream before. As soon as he opened his eyes, he snapped them shut again, temporarily blinded by the lights of the city. It only dimly registered in his mind that he was lying on the ground, and while he felt that he should have probably be alarmed by that, well, it wasn't exactly the first time he'd woken up on the floor, not knowing how he got there.
"Oh!" The voice that called out to him was tiny, high-pitched, and strangely close. "He's awake, kupo! Snow! Snooow!"
He raised a hand to his forehead and slowly blinked his eyes open. It took a few seconds for his vision to adjust, but even then his brain was having trouble making sense of the images in front of it. A small, fluffy white creature floated in the air just inches away from him, its face uncomfortably close to his own. As the world came into focus around him, Snow was able to make out the thing's features -- an oversized head, tiny wings, a big nose, and a bobble.
"Mog?" he asked weakly. "How'd you..."
The moogle turned its head to side to side, looking around as though confused. The more Snow looked at it, though, the more he realized that this wasn't the moogle that he was familiar with. He hadn't exactly spent an extended amount of time with Serah's old traveling companion (except for that intimate bonding experience where Snow had thrown him over the side of a jabberwocky -- with Serah's blessing, of course), but he did remember the thing well enough to know that the moogle in front of him now wasn't the same.
"Mog?" the moogle repeated back at him. "Not me, kupo. You must be thinking of someone else. My name is Motley, kupo!"
Snow pushed himself up into a sitting position and crossed his legs underneath him. Motley moved to give him space to situate himself, and when he was comfortable, he slumped his shoulders slightly and studied his new companion. He reached over and gave Motley an affectionate poke to the stomach, and then another on the nose. This didn't make any sense. The moogles were gone now in the new world, off into the Chaos with the Eidolons, with -- with Stiria and Nix. His heart sank as he remembered. He still missed the sisters, even now. They'd been the only good part about being a l'Cie.
"A little fuzzball to call my own, huh?" he said. "I don't get it."
"I'm sure you have questions, kupo," Motley said. "Don't worry, kupo! That's what I'm here for. Let me explain..."
— Trano Golsaucia's Stands —
For the most part, Snow stayed away from the rowdier attractions. He'd had enough feasts, banquets, and raucous parties to last him over five lifetimes -- literally. It seemed a waste to just to and check out his new house without taking at least a small look around the festival, though. Motley floated behind him lazily as he meandered through the crowd, occasionally pointing things out and giving a brief backstory like a tour guide. Snow was grateful for the little guy's presence. If this kind of bullshit was really going to be the next stage of his life, it was nice to not be alone for once.
Motley nudged him towards the fortune teller's stand as they came close, and while Snow initially tried to refuse on the grounds that he didn't believe in that kind of stuff, the moogle insisted. The fortunes were almost never wrong, he said. In the end, Snow eventually caved and approached the stand with some trepidation. After all, what was the worst that a little parlor trick could do...?
"Oh, yes, kupo!" the fortune teller said enthusiastically. "Hero of Light! I have a very important message for you, kupo."
The moogle peered into his crystal ball, and his bobble glowed as he hummed ominously to himself. After a few seconds, he nodded vigorously and looked back up at Snow.
"Here it is," the moogle said. "'If it seems the fates are against you today, they probably are, kupo. Beware the darkness that brings the choking heat.'"
Startled, Snow balked and took a step back. That was the last thing he'd expected out of a fluffball like that, especially in a seemingly light-hearted festival like this one.
"What?" he spat.
"Oh..." Motley said, peering over his shoulder. "That sounds bad, kupo..."
— Fireworks —
"It'd hardly be a festival without fireworks, huh?" Snow said mostly to himself.
He crossed his arms over his chest and looked up at the night's sky as the first few bangs lit the sky. Back in Yusnaan, there'd been a fireworks show every single night in the Augur's Quarter. That -- much like most of the town's other revelries -- had been Snow's own doing. Back then, when he was at his lowest, the fireworks had reminded him of better days. They reminded him of Serah's smile and the way her eyes caught the light. They allowed him to remember what it felt like to hold her in his arms, to feel her weight against him as she sat in his lap, to feel her hands on his chest and her lips against his. And for a brief moment, he could recall a time when the world wasn't so terrible and he still had things to live for.
Not anymore. Now, watching the fireworks just made him feel numb and hollow. Now, they were a reminder of centuries of self-destructive denial, of promises broken and a self-hatred so black and menacing that it nearly destroyed everything that he was. Snow sighed and dropped his arms, letting them swing limply at his sides. This was counterproductive.
"Come on, Fuzzbutt," he said to Motley, trying his best to hide his feelings. "Let's call it a night."
They were in the eleventh district now, which meant that they had to make their way to the fourteenth in order to reach his new home. Snow turned and began to gently push his way through the crowd, offering apologies and "excuse me"s as he went.
no subject
Snow jolted awake, kicked back into consciousness by the scare of a bad dream. That was all it was to him. Reality warping, darkness taking him -- he'd had that dream before. As soon as he opened his eyes, he snapped them shut again, temporarily blinded by the lights of the city. It only dimly registered in his mind that he was lying on the ground, and while he felt that he should have probably be alarmed by that, well, it wasn't exactly the first time he'd woken up on the floor, not knowing how he got there.
"Oh!" The voice that called out to him was tiny, high-pitched, and strangely close. "He's awake, kupo! Snow! Snooow!"
He raised a hand to his forehead and slowly blinked his eyes open. It took a few seconds for his vision to adjust, but even then his brain was having trouble making sense of the images in front of it. A small, fluffy white creature floated in the air just inches away from him, its face uncomfortably close to his own. As the world came into focus around him, Snow was able to make out the thing's features -- an oversized head, tiny wings, a big nose, and a bobble.
"Mog?" he asked weakly. "How'd you..."
The moogle turned its head to side to side, looking around as though confused. The more Snow looked at it, though, the more he realized that this wasn't the moogle that he was familiar with. He hadn't exactly spent an extended amount of time with Serah's old traveling companion (except for that intimate bonding experience where Snow had thrown him over the side of a jabberwocky -- with Serah's blessing, of course), but he did remember the thing well enough to know that the moogle in front of him now wasn't the same.
"Mog?" the moogle repeated back at him. "Not me, kupo. You must be thinking of someone else. My name is Motley, kupo!"
Snow pushed himself up into a sitting position and crossed his legs underneath him. Motley moved to give him space to situate himself, and when he was comfortable, he slumped his shoulders slightly and studied his new companion. He reached over and gave Motley an affectionate poke to the stomach, and then another on the nose. This didn't make any sense. The moogles were gone now in the new world, off into the Chaos with the Eidolons, with -- with Stiria and Nix. His heart sank as he remembered. He still missed the sisters, even now. They'd been the only good part about being a l'Cie.
"A little fuzzball to call my own, huh?" he said. "I don't get it."
"I'm sure you have questions, kupo," Motley said. "Don't worry, kupo! That's what I'm here for. Let me explain..."
For the most part, Snow stayed away from the rowdier attractions. He'd had enough feasts, banquets, and raucous parties to last him over five lifetimes -- literally. It seemed a waste to just to and check out his new house without taking at least a small look around the festival, though. Motley floated behind him lazily as he meandered through the crowd, occasionally pointing things out and giving a brief backstory like a tour guide. Snow was grateful for the little guy's presence. If this kind of bullshit was really going to be the next stage of his life, it was nice to not be alone for once.
Motley nudged him towards the fortune teller's stand as they came close, and while Snow initially tried to refuse on the grounds that he didn't believe in that kind of stuff, the moogle insisted. The fortunes were almost never wrong, he said. In the end, Snow eventually caved and approached the stand with some trepidation. After all, what was the worst that a little parlor trick could do...?
"Oh, yes, kupo!" the fortune teller said enthusiastically. "Hero of Light! I have a very important message for you, kupo."
The moogle peered into his crystal ball, and his bobble glowed as he hummed ominously to himself. After a few seconds, he nodded vigorously and looked back up at Snow.
"Here it is," the moogle said. "'If it seems the fates are against you today, they probably are, kupo. Beware the darkness that brings the choking heat.'"
Startled, Snow balked and took a step back. That was the last thing he'd expected out of a fluffball like that, especially in a seemingly light-hearted festival like this one.
"What?" he spat.
"Oh..." Motley said, peering over his shoulder. "That sounds bad, kupo..."
"It'd hardly be a festival without fireworks, huh?" Snow said mostly to himself.
He crossed his arms over his chest and looked up at the night's sky as the first few bangs lit the sky. Back in Yusnaan, there'd been a fireworks show every single night in the Augur's Quarter. That -- much like most of the town's other revelries -- had been Snow's own doing. Back then, when he was at his lowest, the fireworks had reminded him of better days. They reminded him of Serah's smile and the way her eyes caught the light. They allowed him to remember what it felt like to hold her in his arms, to feel her weight against him as she sat in his lap, to feel her hands on his chest and her lips against his. And for a brief moment, he could recall a time when the world wasn't so terrible and he still had things to live for.
Not anymore. Now, watching the fireworks just made him feel numb and hollow. Now, they were a reminder of centuries of self-destructive denial, of promises broken and a self-hatred so black and menacing that it nearly destroyed everything that he was. Snow sighed and dropped his arms, letting them swing limply at his sides. This was counterproductive.
"Come on, Fuzzbutt," he said to Motley, trying his best to hide his feelings. "Let's call it a night."
They were in the eleventh district now, which meant that they had to make their way to the fourteenth in order to reach his new home. Snow turned and began to gently push his way through the crowd, offering apologies and "excuse me"s as he went.