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 Posted: Mon May 29, 2006 7:36 am
Rocket Town (ロケット村, Roketto Mura?): Cid Highwind's town of residence. This is the site of the first successful rocket launch into space.
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Posted: Mon Oct 09, 2006 12:54 pm
"Spikey haired.. piece of.. pain in the.." The Tiny Bronco, as it was so cristened during its maiden flight, had become Cid's side project after the action had died down. On that particular day, two men were working on it. The familiar blonde head of Cid was hidden away under the plane and above it his assistant stood. Not Shera, merely a sixteen year old punk who had been trying to pick up the trade from Cid. He had been there long enough to ignore most of what Cid said and only pick out key words.
Smoke arose from under the salmon colored plane. Not fire from any particular mishap, just a chain smoking Highwind in a bad mood over the damage his old machine had taken. "Spikey haired a**.. What the ******** was he thinking getting me mixed up in that!? Pain in the... And look at it now!" Apparently this had been a trigger of some sort of the assistant to turn the wrench. There was a mist in the air, more anger than previous leaving the blonde's system. Cid's familiar presence could be felt from miles around. "Henry! You sonuvabitch!" Cid slid out from under the Tiny Bronco, dripping with oil.
"S-s-sorry!" Cid's visage at the moment seemed to be surrounded in an aura of fire to poor Henry. "Got the hell outta here before I stick this pole up your a**! And tell that b***h Shera to get me somethin' to drink!" Henry stumbled trying to remove himself from the ever-angry Cid's view. The blonde took a couple of irrate steps forward, kicking at the air close to Henry's rear-end as he scurried towards the pilot's house.
Revelation struck Cid's face. "Uh oh." He watched the burning end of his cigarette near his oil soaked face. As if the gears had begun turning in his head, he stopped breathing. By some nicotine-god created miracle, most of the cigarette was spotless. One false breath and the chain-smoker would be in trouble. "God, I could use a smoke right now.."
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Posted: Mon Oct 09, 2006 1:54 pm
Carefully, Cid pulled the burning cancer stick out of his mouth and flicked it far away from his position, safe guarding his state of being. "Pain in the a** assistant.. lucky Shera wants him here or I'd cram that spear so far up his..." The blonde drifted off into a string of obscenities that would have made Aerith cry had she heard them. Without hesitation, he left the yard and entered his house.
His movements carried him through the kitchen where Shera was standing, finishing up his drink. Already the blonde was half out of his oily overalls, catching the look on Shera's face and her agape mouth. "Shaddup Shera." His blue eyes came across Henry, huddled in the corner, trying to avoid Cid's wicked gaze. "S-s-s-sor--," he could only begin before he was cut off cruelly by an angry. "Shaddup, Henry! You sonuva--" his curses were cut off by the door to the bathroom slamming shut.
It wasn't long before the bathroom was filled with steam and cigarette smoke. The impatient pilot halted smoking for nothing. Not even water. "Spikey haired pain in the.." His anger began to subside as the combination of nicotene and hot water on tense muscles took affect. In truth, he was more angered by the fact that he had heard from no one for so long. He brought a wet palm to his face, trying to wipe the stress away, when the scent of oil hit him and he caught his reflection in the mirror. Smeared across his cheek the black substance sat. "Heh. Ain't that just cute."
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Posted: Tue Oct 10, 2006 7:09 am
"No, Henry! Get back inside and watch through the telescope! Damn pain in the.." Cid went through his usual series of Henry-hating obscenities. Truth be told, he actually liked Henry for showing the initiative that he did, which is why Henry did not, in fact, have the Venus Gospel rammed up his hind quarters after said mistake. The blonde had long since put on a new pair of cover-alls, a new pair of leather gloves sitting on his utility belt.
"Almost done.." On the plus side, the excess fluid from the damaged rotor had already been drained. All over Cid at that. "She's still good, just needed a little love." And welding. "Henry! Hen-RY! Henry!" Cid slid out from underneathe of the aircraft to look for his assistant to find him standing by the window watching him repair the Tiny Bronco via a telescope. Cid stood up frustratedly and motioned the assistant out. As soon as Henry left the door, the blonde started in on him. "Henry! What the hell were you doing in there?! Don't answer that! Go get my welding gear! She's almost done!" Cid smiled proudly.
After about an hour of sparks and six cigarettes, Cid came out from under the Tiny Bronco for what was going to be the last time for a long time, hopefully. Cid stood up, full of pride standing next to his broken Henry, patting him on the back and hugging him to his side by the shoulder. "There she is, Henry. The Tiny Bronco. We fixed her. This calls for a victory smoke." Cid retrieved a cigar from his pocket, just as he finished that seventh cigarette. He inhaled the smoke, smiling. He offered one to Henry, the boy shook his head. "Whaddya mean?! You don't smoke?!" Now he was only teasing the boy, though he barely recognized the difference.
It was time for Cid to take the Tiny Bronco on a voyage to test it out. He lowered his goggles and hopped into his machine, starting it up and beginning to fly, not bothering to mention to Shera that he was leaving. "Henry! You're in charge while I'm gone! Shouldn't be more than a couple of days!" Next stop, Midgar.
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Posted: Sat Feb 02, 2008 10:19 am
“Shera, Goddamnit, ar’ ye dun making that ********’ tea yet?” The infuriated pilot stormed in from the back, face and hands entirely black from working on various projects or tuning up the Highwind. Lord knows what he did back there, at least it was productive.
The door behind him slammed shut with a heavy thud. Something must have gone wrong, he didn’t seem too pleased, or maybe he was angry with the fact his tea was taking longer then it should have… Or perhaps he was just being, well, normal, foul-mouthed Cid.
Removing the greasy blue shirt from his chest with still a worn undershirt plastered to his damp chest from being the grease-monkey that he was, the pilot opened a door leading down to a lower lever of the house, Highwind chucked the tee down the stairs to be washed before digging through his pants pockets in search of a familiar square package and fire-starter. Scrambling was heard from the kitchen area, which was followed by a polite voice telling the man it would only be a moment longer. And irritated growl escaped his lips as he dropped his weary body into one of the few chairs surrounding the wooden, circular table.
“I’d blo’dy damn-well hope so!” He hissed victoriously finding the pack of cigs and the lighter.
[Um.. I hope it’s alright that I re-started with Cid, if not, I’ll delete my post and continue where the last one left off. nn;;]
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Posted: Thu Aug 07, 2008 10:02 am
Upon finding his cigs and a lighter, Cid pulled a single slim cigarette from the slim red package. Placing the ivory death stick between his parted lips and flicked on the lighter. Lighting the end of the cig, he tossed the lighter down on the table and inhaled the toxins into his lungs quite deeply. Moments later, a relaxed inhale escaped him and gray, foggy smoke escaped from his nose and mouth slowly. Ah... Tranquility.
Soon after, Shera entered into the main room and set a small tea kettle down on the table with a mug for Cid along with some milk and sugar. Cid never enjoyed sugar in his tea. One milk sufficed for him if it was available. If not, he drank it black, though she seemed to always bring out the sugar anyway... Just in case. Of what though? Well they may have sudden company arriving, and it was always nice to an entire set out rather then little bits and pieces. Pouring himself a cupful, he nodded to Shera without looking at her directly, though he grunted a low "thanks" to her in response before leaning back. With a low sigh, he pushed off his boots and relaxed.
However, that peaceful bliss did not last longer then a single minute.
The phone rang. His phone rang, though do you think he cared? No, not at the very moment. He felt the device vibrate in his pocket and ring aloud and it annoyed him. After several rings, the male pulled out the phone and pushed the lid open with his thumb. A quiet, clearly irritated "what?" answered the phone though the answering machine seemed to already have picked. Grumbling lowly to himself, the foul-mouthed pilot had every idea in his right mind to simply shut the phone and brush off the phone call. Who ever it was could wait or phone again and deal with his crankiness or leave a friggin' message if it was really that important...
--Though the very moment Cid slid his index and middle finger to the back of the phone and began to pull the thin, silver phone away from his ear, he paused to take a sip of the tea Shera had finally brought out to him. His lips froze on the rim of the mug and the phone hovered about an inch away from his ear.
Tseng? What the hell did he want?
With furrowed brows in confusion, the blond set the tea down on the table and sat up in wooden chair calmly listening to the message at hand. His face remained twisted in confusion. What the hell was ShinRa trying to pull now? For one reason or another--for obvious reasons in the past, obviously--Cid didn't seem to believe the message... Though it did intrigue him greatly. A small grin seemed to flicker across his lips. Ah, a position? A job with the Turks? It was hard to say of the smile was caused from amusement, or giddiness. You know... Cid and his love for machinery. Though it seemed to intrigue him enough to cause him to set his tea down and listen intently. At any rate, it caused him to re-dial the male's number immediately. Sure, it would have been good to give the whole thing some thought, but Cid? Heh. He thought it was some kind of sick joke.
"Heh. Le'see what my Turk buddy hasta say now." A grin continued to stay on his face as he leaned back into his chair and removed the cig from his mouth with his thumb and index finger. The roll of tobacco disappeared rather quickly, and the nub remaining was crushed into the ash tray on the table as the phone began to ring.
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Posted: Sun Sep 28, 2008 6:12 am
Cid remained seated silently. I final exhale of cloudy toxins escaped his lips and fogged the area around him as his thumb ground the filter into the bottom of the ash-filled dish. The smug grin slipped off of his lips and a neutral expression over-took him, and he sat, waiting for the lead Turk to pick up the phone. What the hell did him anyway?
The soft click of the phone being entered on the other end was followed by a a greeting, and then a response. The pilot inwardly growled at the sound of his voice, even though it was calm and smooth, it almost seemed degrading to Highwind. The Turks were never up to any good, what would the difference be now? Reaching for the cup of tea, Cid kept it within his grasp and pulled it to his lips. It was very hot, for it burned his tongue and the roof of his mouth but he swallowed it without a grimace or an expression of pain. It was only until moments after the burning liquid snaked it's way down his throat did the actual flavor of the tea actually sink in. From this, Cid released a distinctive Ahh in pleasure.
"Yeah well, I don't have much of a choice, do I?" The pilot responded sharply, his eyes set on the orangy, steaming liquid within the porcelain cup. It was an odd sight, really... Such a gruff man--and greasy if you will--holding such a petite object within his grasp. It was contradicting, but he refused to use a mug... For whatever reason which was beyond the knowledge of most.
"Now explain t' me what th' hell yah meant by that bloody message," he said, pausing for a moment as he pulled the tea cup up to his lips once again, but his brows arched into an angered expression as if he just realized something. Pulling the cup about an inch or two away from his lips, he rose his head and sat up-right rather than having his feet set up on top of the table.
"An' how th' hell didja get this number?!"
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Posted: Tue Sep 30, 2008 2:24 pm
"...Sounds like a crock uv s**t ta me." Cid mentioned after a short silence that lasted a matter of seconds, which rather seemed like eternity. Cid fell silent as he moved to take a sip of the hot tea before setting it down on the small saucer on the table. His azure eyes grazed the table in search of a specific red package which contained a few, long cigarettes. Yes, he just crushed the butt of a cig into the ashtray, but he was talking to Tseng now, who often infuriated him. Pinning the phone between his shoulder and his head, Cid patted the pockets in search of the box in which would have contained the rolled toxins he was longing for. The pilot growled into the phone and sighed as his eyes began to search the room. They were somewhere... He just had a cigarette in his hand!
Not only did his lack of cigarettes which had suddenly seemed to go missing annoyed him, but the fact that Tseng was still hanging on the telephone. "There's no way in hell I'ma believe you. You an' yer Turk buddies 'ave always stuck yer nose where it don't belong, why th' hell would yah want some sort of peace treaty?" He growled into the phone. "There's somthin' yer not tellin' me..." He mumbled, now standing up and looking on the ground for the package he could have possibly dropped.
"Jus' be glad Vince saved yer sorry, butt-kissin', ShinRa a**." Cid mumbled into the phone as he finally spotted his cigs on the table near the back door. Opening the package to reveal only about three cancer sticks, Highwind groaned and pulled one from the silver wrapping and slipped the filter into his mouth before picking the small box of matches from within the cigarette package. Ripping a single one off, Cid struck the match on the side of a table and lifted it to the end of the cigarette. The end burned to life with a fiery, red glow and the pilot waved the lit match through the air to extinguish the flame.
"I'll tell ya what," he began, feeling himself relax the moment he inhaled the deadly toxins into his system. There was a moment's silence between the inhale, the sound of enjoyment, and his next words. "If you can gimme one reason t' why yer plannin' this... 'peacy treaty'," the last two words were spoken in a mocking tone, "then I'll consider it. Of not, you can shove it up yer a**."
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Posted: Sat Oct 04, 2008 1:20 pm
Oh, they were making themselves look like the heroes now, hm? Well, Cid saw right through that! Everyone needed ShinRa, he said. They employed people, supplied energy and distributed money. Obviously the world needed to get their act back together and figure out what they were going to do with themselves now that ShinRa had disappeared, now that they were gone, just like most desired. Now that they were gone, people didn't know what to do with their acquired goal. Take a dog for an example, it runs, runs, runs in circles in attempt to catch it's own tail with it's mouth, but once it gets it, it doesn't know what do to with it.
That was the exact same effect applied on both Midgar and Edge, as to the rest of the world.
"...They've done fine so far." The pilot offered in order to deny the Turks' ideals. Okay, sure. The idea was sub-par, if not good, but Cid didn't want to have any part of it. He did what he had to years ago to help the world. He was a good citizen, and he retired from such a job. What more did they want from him? He was done, that's it. No more. Why the hell did ShinRa want his assistance? Need a do-gooder? Go to Cloud, Spikey outta help 'em out. He caved beforehand, Vid only came around to bail his a** out of deep punishment against Bahaumut... Even if Cloud did end up pummeling the summon with Omni Slash, but it was to the efforts of his very posse that he owed a thanks to!
"Well tha's nice 'n all, but what th' hell do yah want me for?" He grumbled into the phone. "Go talk ta Cloud. I dun want ta deal with any uv this crap anymore." He said, stationing himself against the wall next to the door he just move through for the time being as he rose the cig to his lips and took a deep inhale, which burned away a quarter if not more of the long stick of toxins.
"They're not yer problem anymore," he began, talking about the world and the economy, "Why do yah care what happens to 'em? They all hated ya anyway." He said, sighing. Obviously calming down greatly from the cigarette. "Why would ya need me anyway? I can't do nothin' 'bout it."
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