[When Cloud picks up, he's confused at first. It's weird to have someone call him (texting is different, there's always a sense of detachment associated with it), though he doesn't hesitate to reply. He's observant enough to notice the note of tension in the other (he recognizes her voice, and when she says it's Tifa, he realizes why), but she doesn't reply until she's done speaking.]
Yeah. Sure. [Going to sound weird? That seems to be the habit around here, this month. At this rate, will anything surprise him?]
[Just when he thought things couldn't get stranger, now he's hearing that he... or some version of him, appeared in her memories? What sense did that make? What did that imply?
It's shocking, it's a little disturbing. But more than anything, he has questions.]
Well, he...he looked like you. Exactly like you. Except his eyes were really blue. [A pause on her end too.] ...Unusually blue, almost glowing. It sounds weird, but I swear, I wouldn't make up something like this. He was carrying this - this enormous sword. [He can't see her, but she's fanning her arms out, as to demonstrate.] I've never seen anything like it.
I think we — the version of you and the version of me — were partners? Or friends. She was trying to get him to stay with this group. Said the planet was dying.
[That can't be right, is what he wants to say. It lingers on the tip of his tongue, because it's difficult not to lean on the knee-jerk reaction. He's still new, and he didn't expect anyone to have a "memory" with him in it, not in that capacity. Cloud's silence is audible for a few seconds more.]
That's crazy. [That sums up his general feeling of it.] I don't remember you. Shouldn't I, if what you're telling me is real?
[This is going to make his head hurt.] I do -- did -- have blue eyes, but they're not... glowing, like that, and there's no way I can carry a giant sword. What... what were we doing, do you know?
[The longer the conversation goes on, the more subdued she seems to get. All business now.] And I didn't remember you before I got the memory, so...maybe you haven't gotten one with me in it, yet? I don't know how it works. It threw me for a loop.
We were in a bar, and I was trying to get you to stay. I was desperate, I think. That's how it — how it felt. I'm not sure if you could tell. I told you that we were childhood friends, [she knows this part isn't true, and she clings to it.] and I remembered, we made some a promise as kids, but...
[Ugh, she doesn't want to say this part, but she thinks it's important, that he should know.] I don't know if I...if she was being straight with you, about being friends before. It didn't feel right.
[Cloud's intonation remains the same, though it is laced with more seriousness than usual, as well. Coupled with a curiosity that's hard to dismantle completely.]
Childhood friends...?
[But maybe she wasn't being truthful about it? But why would she lie?]
That's weird, though. It doesn't... I mean, wouldn't I know if we weren't friends before? Why lie about it?
...They used to live in a village, by a well. And...the bar, there were words scratched on the counter, but they were all garbled. He said someone's name, and that was garbled too.
There were a lot of words like that. It was like the memory didn't want me to learn them yet.
[So hard to put together in his head. He wishes suddenly that he could see what she saw; that he could experience and hear it the same way Tifa did. He's relying only on his imagination, which has no point of reference.]
I don't know what to say. Am I... supposed to start remembering all of this, too, now? And what does it all mean?
[Maybe, she thinks, she should've waited on this. But it had been too strange to keep to herself.]
I can't say for sure. It'd be odd if you're in my memories, and I'm not in yours. That would make things even weirder. I have a childhood friend. I've lived here my whole life...
[...] I don't know what it means. But if I figure it out, I'll be sure to tell you.
[What else is he supposed to say to that? He can't demand answers from her, when it's so obvious that she has none. But he's left with a multitude of questions, an unsatisfactory feeling of having been presented with a hugely incomplete narrative, and nothing more.
It isn't her fault. But it is a little mind-boggling, vacillating on the edge of frustrating.]
That's fair. I haven't had any of these... memory things yet, but if I do, I think it would make sense to, well. To let you know. Right?
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9/15, voice
[This is infused with too-bright cheeriness. A pause, then, a little quieter, more subdued (nervous):]
Cloud. Hi. Can we talk about something? [...] It's going to sound weird, so, sorry in advance. It's something I thought you should know.
[Another beat.] This is Tiffany, by the way. Tifa Lockhart.
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Yeah. Sure. [Going to sound weird? That seems to be the habit around here, this month. At this rate, will anything surprise him?]
Is everything all right, though?
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[A pause follows this, then she speaks, in a bit of a rush:] ...Have you heard, about people getting visions?
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...Yeah. Memories or something, right?
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I had one, I think. And I think you were in it. Or a version of you? I'm not sure how it works. I'm sure we knew each other in it, however.
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...What?
[Just when he thought things couldn't get stranger, now he's hearing that he... or some version of him, appeared in her memories? What sense did that make? What did that imply?
It's shocking, it's a little disturbing. But more than anything, he has questions.]
How... how do you know? Did he look like me?
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I think we — the version of you and the version of me — were partners? Or friends. She was trying to get him to stay with this group. Said the planet was dying.
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[That can't be right, is what he wants to say. It lingers on the tip of his tongue, because it's difficult not to lean on the knee-jerk reaction. He's still new, and he didn't expect anyone to have a "memory" with him in it, not in that capacity. Cloud's silence is audible for a few seconds more.]
That's crazy. [That sums up his general feeling of it.] I don't remember you. Shouldn't I, if what you're telling me is real?
[This is going to make his head hurt.] I do -- did -- have blue eyes, but they're not... glowing, like that, and there's no way I can carry a giant sword. What... what were we doing, do you know?
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[The longer the conversation goes on, the more subdued she seems to get. All business now.] And I didn't remember you before I got the memory, so...maybe you haven't gotten one with me in it, yet? I don't know how it works. It threw me for a loop.
We were in a bar, and I was trying to get you to stay. I was desperate, I think. That's how it — how it felt. I'm not sure if you could tell. I told you that we were childhood friends, [she knows this part isn't true, and she clings to it.] and I remembered, we made some a promise as kids, but...
[Ugh, she doesn't want to say this part, but she thinks it's important, that he should know.] I don't know if I...if she was being straight with you, about being friends before. It didn't feel right.
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Childhood friends...?
[But maybe she wasn't being truthful about it? But why would she lie?]
That's weird, though. It doesn't... I mean, wouldn't I know if we weren't friends before? Why lie about it?
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[That's been bothering her too.]
But you believed her. I'm not sure why.
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[To say the least.
Honestly, he doesn't even know what else to say at this point. He has a lot of questions, but he wonders just how much she can answer.]
What else do you remember?
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There were a lot of words like that. It was like the memory didn't want me to learn them yet.
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[So hard to put together in his head. He wishes suddenly that he could see what she saw; that he could experience and hear it the same way Tifa did. He's relying only on his imagination, which has no point of reference.]
I don't know what to say. Am I... supposed to start remembering all of this, too, now? And what does it all mean?
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[Maybe, she thinks, she should've waited on this. But it had been too strange to keep to herself.]
I can't say for sure. It'd be odd if you're in my memories, and I'm not in yours. That would make things even weirder. I have a childhood friend. I've lived here my whole life...
[...] I don't know what it means. But if I figure it out, I'll be sure to tell you.
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[What else is he supposed to say to that? He can't demand answers from her, when it's so obvious that she has none. But he's left with a multitude of questions, an unsatisfactory feeling of having been presented with a hugely incomplete narrative, and nothing more.
It isn't her fault. But it is a little mind-boggling, vacillating on the edge of frustrating.]
That's fair. I haven't had any of these... memory things yet, but if I do, I think it would make sense to, well. To let you know. Right?
If you don't mind it.
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[A weak little laugh.]
I'm sorry for dumping all of this on you out of nowhere.
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[That much is said with quickness, with certainty.]
I want to know. Even if it's confusing and a little disturbing, I'm glad you told me.