bald cats get cold, too.
SORRY, SQUALLY 8D;
Title: Bald Cats Get Cold, Too
Characters // Pairings: Squall, Bartz, Zidane // 589?
Rating // Warnings: G // none
Canon: Dissidia Final Fantasy
Wordcount: 231
Summary: "Where are my clothes?"
---
"Where're my clothes?"
Headcount: one Bartz, twirling a yellow feather between his fingers. One Zidane, nowhere to be found. One Squall, standing half-naked, goosebumps rising along his arms.
The brownhaired adventurer blinked up at his stormy-eyed companion, whose eyes were not just stormy because of color at the moment -- no, Squall was furious. Squall was livid.
"Well, I dunno," said Bartz cheerfully, shoving the chocobo feather back into his pocket and beaming. "Why don't you ask Zidane?"
"He's gone," grumbled the lion, plopping down beside Bartz. "Why are you so cheerful all of a sudden?"
"Adventures are more fun when you're happy, aren't they?" was all Bartz said, though, and Squall glowered at him.
"I see," he replied evenly, tone one of someone who was rather calm, not someone who was seething. "Do you know where he went, then?" He rubbed at his arms a little, shivering. Why did everywhere they ended up have to be so cold...?
"Nope," chirped Bartz. "I'm gonna go do some training drills! You come get me when you find him!" He pranced off, leaving a gaping Squall Leonhart sitting on the ground, shirtless and freezing.
--
"This isn't too bad a fit," mumbled the Genome, grinning to himself as he modeled the leather coat proudly for an invisible audience. "I like the ruff a lot! I wonder if he'd lend me this more often...?"
Title: Bald Cats Get Cold, Too
Characters // Pairings: Squall, Bartz, Zidane // 589?
Rating // Warnings: G // none
Canon: Dissidia Final Fantasy
Wordcount: 231
Summary: "Where are my clothes?"
---
"Where're my clothes?"
Headcount: one Bartz, twirling a yellow feather between his fingers. One Zidane, nowhere to be found. One Squall, standing half-naked, goosebumps rising along his arms.
The brownhaired adventurer blinked up at his stormy-eyed companion, whose eyes were not just stormy because of color at the moment -- no, Squall was furious. Squall was livid.
"Well, I dunno," said Bartz cheerfully, shoving the chocobo feather back into his pocket and beaming. "Why don't you ask Zidane?"
"He's gone," grumbled the lion, plopping down beside Bartz. "Why are you so cheerful all of a sudden?"
"Adventures are more fun when you're happy, aren't they?" was all Bartz said, though, and Squall glowered at him.
"I see," he replied evenly, tone one of someone who was rather calm, not someone who was seething. "Do you know where he went, then?" He rubbed at his arms a little, shivering. Why did everywhere they ended up have to be so cold...?
"Nope," chirped Bartz. "I'm gonna go do some training drills! You come get me when you find him!" He pranced off, leaving a gaping Squall Leonhart sitting on the ground, shirtless and freezing.
--
"This isn't too bad a fit," mumbled the Genome, grinning to himself as he modeled the leather coat proudly for an invisible audience. "I like the ruff a lot! I wonder if he'd lend me this more often...?"