The first thing Aerith does when she gets home is take a shower. A really long one. Something about fighting people, rather than monsters, gets into your hair and skin and sticks there ( Read more... )

*Aerith sits at her window, curled up with her hair floating loose almost to the floor. The voices of the Planet are clamoring at her, and she can't sort it all out...*

*...but one thing is very, very clear. Something big is about to happen, and it's all centered around Jenova. Aerith fiddles with her pager, brow set in stubborn concentration ( Read more... )

*Not since Aerith was a youngster has the Gainsborough's garden been in such disarray - 'disarray' being a relative term. A number of flowers have been uprooted and moved to flowerpots - probably for later replanting - to leave a clear oval of dirt. At one end is Aerith, exhausted and sweaty and wearing pants for once, her staff gripped in both ( Read more... )

No sooner do I return from the Temple do I get propositioned. Nothing new, granted, but this one was a little odder than most. It's a little hard to be angry at him, though. ^_ ( Read more... )

*A sign hangs on Aerith's door...*

Gone to the Temple of the Ancients with Zax. Back in a few days.

-Aerith

*Aerith sprawls in the midst of her garden at home, a peaceful, happy expression on her face. Her hair is pulled back in a disheveled, hasty ponytail rather than her customary braid, and she rolls her White Materia between her fingers idly as she stares blissfully into the empty space above the Plate.*

I was with Zax last night.

It was wonderful ( Read more... )

*sighs, snuggling Zanzibar close*

Mom found out about Zan today. She... wasn't happy. She said I can't keep him anymore.

But I can't just let him go, he'd never survive in the wild...!

*sighs and pets Zanzibar* I'm sorry, little one. *sad smile*

I don't know what he expects to learn from this...

( Click here )

Aerith sits in her garden with her arms clasped over her knees, hiding among the plants as she did as a child. Nearby, Zanzibar coils in the sand pit she'd cleared for him, watching his adopted mother with his characteristic calm gaze. He's already showing signs of his first molt.

So... that was Jenova. The Crisis...

She shudders, and her ( Read more... )

It's raining and bitter cold, and Aerith is trudging home from Wall Market, thoroughly disgruntled. Her flower basket (still full) swings dejectedly from one elbow, and her arms are filled with a round bundle wrapped in a cheap blanket - the source of her ill humor.

Well, she thinks, I'll have to incubate this little guy tonight, that's all. ( Read more... )