Our avatars are in a room together

...Bye.

-Okay THEN he left for real-

-Oh hey, looks like Gracia is making some kind of soup, reading very carefully off a child-level hobby cookbook-

-She is fixated, not noticing Cloud-

...

-Taps on the window to get her attention-

-Gracia he lost his clothes again-

-Probably couldn't fit those through the crack in the wall he escaped from-

-She looks over, then back at the soup-

...

...

-Slowly turns back-

-Fucking hell not now-

-Taps a bit louder-

-Then runs for it in case he got the wrong person's attention and waits to see if it worked-

...

-Pours some into a bowl, retrieves a spoon, then takes it outside-

-Is waiting for her in the trees-

-Has had the decency to keep himself hidden in the shadows behind some branches-

I know how you can help me.

Is it to do with tomato soup?

-She holds the bowl out-

No, but... thank you.

I can't eat that. It'll just make it worse. You have it.

Listen. There's... I figured out a way for me not to hurt anyone on accident. But I need you to help me with some parts.

I will always help.

-She blows on her spoonful, before eating-

There's a big tree a couple miles that way. -Gestures- With a lot of little trees and bushes around it.

I want you to go back inside, but then in one hour go to that spot. There'll be a statue there.

Smash it, if you can. That might be difficult. But if you can't, or even if you can — either way, chip off a piece, and — and hide it somewhere. I don't care where or how — you don't even have to remember where you put it. Doesn't matter how big it is. But it has to be gone from this area. Forever.

Do you think you can do that?

... That doesn't make any sense at all.

I'll do it.

I'm counting on you.

Remember, even if you can only manage to break off one piece, you've still done really good. Alright?

...Go finish your soup.

-Nods-

...

You'll be okay, though, right? You'll— I love you. You'll be back, won't you?

I'll be okay. And I'll be back soon.

-Gets up and walks off-

...

-Heads back inside, sitting at the table and eating her soup-

-Heads deeper into the woods, recovering a glassy orb about the size of an orange from where he buried it-

-Sits down and nestles himself in between some roots, using the branches to hide himself-

-Now to hide the evidence-

...

-Hefts the materia apprehensively, this being by far the most unpleasant part-

-Then shoves it into his mouth and manages to swallow it after a couple agonising moments. Thank god you don't actually need oxygen. Or neck bones-

-Pauses for a moment, appreciating what he's about to do and how nice and warm it is out tonight and the sensation of leaves on his skin. He takes a deep breath because he can and he wants to-

...

-The ground around him begins to kick up in some sort of localised tornado-earthquake combination, flinging dirt and then jagged stones at him, tearing open cuts in his skin and battering him with rocks-

-But then the bits of dust and stone seem to slip into his skin, like mixing paint, and his flinches from the blows grow sluggish and his movements become more relaxed-

-He stops moving entirely, and a minute later there's a rather unusual-looking gargoyle-esque statue, horns and all, wedged in between the roots, covered in dirt, its surface weathered, as though it had been there for years, pensievely staring at the ground over its knees-

-And now to wait-

-Gracia finishes her soup, then finds herself staring at the bowl-

-Lost in thoughts of apprehension-

-When she looks up, forty minutes have passed-

-She goes and collects a familiar looking hammer, the one that wanted to ruin—

-No, the one she wanted to ruin the walls with-

-It's just a hammer-

-She waits a little longer, thinking up good hiding spots-

-Then heads on out once the hour goes by, in search-

-Hey neato, it's a Cloud-shaped statue-

-Looks like it's been there for a while-

...

-Looks at the hammer-

-Raises it up-

...

-Lowers it-

...

-Then brings it up and down as hard as she can to strike at the statue-

-It's made out of high quality granite or something-

-Up to you how well she does-

-It holds up pretty well, though she manages to take a sizeable chip off its horn, that area too thin to resist a solid strike-

-She picks it up, looking it over, then slips it into her jacket pocket-

-It's difficult to tell if Gracia actually followed through given the lack of any tactile or sensory input-

-No movement, no touch, no sound or light, no sensation or temperature. Stone does not have nerve endings or working eyes or ears-

-It's just a big, black void with nothing but his thoughts for company-

-But he does feel a brief but definite jarring of his thoughts as they muddy ever so slightly-

-Success-

-This for the best, isn't it-

-She heads back for the room, thinking to herself-

-Taking it upstairs to her room and taking one of the many pillows-

-The prettiest, frilliest one-

-Cloud would like this one-

-She takes the knife she keeps in her jacket, cutting it down the middle, enough to push the fragment in-

-Then gets out the tiny sewing kit, not used to such fine, manufactured tools and materials, but making quick work of sewing the pillow back up-

-Then sets it down on her bed, proud-

-He'd appreciate it if he knew-

-As it stands at the moment he's mostly just sad and afraid-