Blood & Sympathy (FFVII: Vincent x OC)

Ch17 - The Temple of the Ancients

The water was calm, thankfully, so they didn’t have any problems sailing across to the tropical forests of the other side. A continent which Shinra hadn’t yet touched with their technology and their great cities, hence things there were naturally normal, and the greenery was thriving. Or maybe it was because the Temple of the Ancients was lying somewhere beneath the thick forest. That radiation of Lifestream coming from the temple, probably kept the forest alive, enough to protect it from intruders.

The sound of buzzing insects, birds chirping, and other organisms shrieking, came from the forest. Jocasta could smell the soil, the tropical carnivore flowers blooming, the vines of the trees as the team cut their way through. Thick leaves, bigger than herself were blocking all sunshine from touching anything beneath the unnaturally tall trees.

Cid let out another series of curses as he used the sharp tip of his spear to cut through another series of vines. Cloud turned at Aerith, waiting for a nod to let him know they were heading the right way. Aerith nodded, giving him a reassuring smile.

“Everybody followin’ back there?!” Barret’s voice came from a few meters on the front.

“Aye!”

“Yeah,”

“Hm,”

“Damn right!”

Even though Jocasta had folded her cloak and stuffed it into her bag that hung from her shoulder, she could still feel her grey t-shirt sticking on her body. The heat that came was unbearable as she let out another sigh and her forearm found her forehead, wiping the sweat that gathered there. Sure, Hojo had made her immune to cold, and she thought that she could endure high temperatures. But it turned out differently.

Jocasta turned at Vincent who was following behind her, his clawed arm cut through a group of vines that fell on his way. He was still wearing that long-ass red cloak, above that black-leathered outfit of his, and all she could do was wonder how he could bear wearing black-leather in such temperature.

“Aren’t you supposed to be sweating or something?” Jocasta asked. She let out a grunt as she cut another vine that fell on her way.

Vincent just shook his head negatively. I guess Hojo fixed that. He thought bitterly. Jocasta stopped walking for a second as she turned at him. Her eyes examined his face that hid beneath these bangs and his collar. Pale as usual. Paler than the dead.

She stood on her tiptoes as her hand reached for his forehead. Vincent nearly pulled back, but relaxed when he reminded himself that he could trust her. Her palm pressed flat on his forehead, pushing a bit away that bandana, searching for temperature. He was cold.

“Shit! Are you having hypothermia?!” Jocasta asked, eyes worriedly stared up at him.

Vincent shook his head and he walked past her “I’ve been cold ever since I died, Jocasta,” he said bitterly.

Jocasta pursed her lips suppressing the need to just place a hand by his shoulder and let him know that he wasn’t alone. That he wasn’t the only one that wasn’t normal within their little team of mismatches. Instead, she sighed and continued walking, and tried to ignore Cid’s curses and Yuffie’s sassy comments. Tifa’s complaints for the bugs that flew around them, and Barret’s little chat with his buddy Red.

She tried to think of how she could reverse things. Ways to turn herself and Vincent back to normal. Lucrecia did put that Demon inside him, there must’ve been a way she could take it out. And there must have been some way that she could take hers out too. Freeing them both from the burden of immortality would be a massive progress.