limits: (dress;; i hate my life)
[personal profile] limits
[ Let it never be said that the Malnosso do not possess a sense of fairness. For, when Cloud Strife awoke - the clothes he had been wearing were right beside him! How kind, how generous - except these clothes had been a disguise. The clothes he'd worn underneath, his clothes and weapons and items, had been no where to be found - but at least he'd been given the option to change out of that dull, drab New Feather dress that made it abundantly clear that he was just a man. Wearing a dress. Something that was sure to make people question his reputation as a mercenary.

They gave him a choice. That's fair, right?

Of course. It wasn't one easily made. But, there it was. Deciding that streaking was perhaps not the best option for stealth, the blonde man donned the wig, the dress, and... everything else with a frustrated sigh. Not that he intended to stay in them long at all. Whatever these wings were? Not his problem. Probably some bizarre side effect of whatever had knocked him out.

Nope. Not at all. In fact, the moment he got into town, he was making a bee-line for any unlocked doors to hopefully steal something in his size. Then he would find his materia and his weapon and head back to Midgar. Had he read the journal or noticed it at all, maybe this would have gone a different way.

But, alas. Cloud can be found walking the streets of Luceti, avoiding the eyes of anyone who tries to look at him. Or, well, if you don't lock your doors - in your house, rifling through your duds. ]
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cloud strife

November 2011

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