It is a dark night, she mused.
One that smothers your senses in its thick clutches.
Shadows loomed high over the heads of passerby's, enormous in comparison to their
owners: street merchants and vagabonds. The faint aroma of deep fried foods, greasy
Korean chicken and Won Ton soup was present; a drifter in search of a home, perhaps in
the delirium of a starving boy. It was almost too cruel for words. But this wasn't
Pleasantville, where children were happy and no one went uncared for. This was Midgar,
the Neo-village of the damned and merciless predator of the hopes of so many.
Aeris realized this. She was merely a street merchant, like so many. Her flowers almost
glowed in the thick night air, painting a rainbow in the ally ways, a pinch of the
happiness and love that so many citizens had long forgotten. A reminder of a life that
was left behind when the Shin-ra took over, a technological monster of unfathomed
She wearily plucked up a daisy and twirled it between her fingers. She inspected it
carefully, relishing the feel of the hardened stem, slightly wet with the water she had
doused on it, matching the roughness of her own pale hands. She toyed with the vibrant
yellow petals, a smile playing across her lips, as she placed the delicate flower close to
her nose and breathed in deeply. The aroma took her breath away, and she gasped
slightly before sighing with pleasure and closing her eyes, the same fatigued, mindless
smirk painting her face. "How lovely..."
Her clutch on the loosened, and the daisy drooped lazily to the ground. She stared
dreamily off into open space. "How lovely." She repeated, speaking aloud to herself.
"Such a pretty little thing. Simple, yet completely satisfying."
She glanced down at the fallen flower. Still the bewildering smile was present. "It
indulges the senses. Intoxication of the nose, the eyes..." She brought a finger
tentatively to her cheek. "Even to the touch. A surreal experience. Maybe that's why…
that's why people buy so many."
She bent low, to pick up the flower once again. Her fingers hovered inches above it,
waiting, hesitating. "What a frank metaphor, an irresistible conundrum." She had it in her
possession in an instant. The friendly grin turned into a tight-lipped smirk. Her grasp on
the frail blossom grew fevered and she pressed it to her generous chest, her gaze still
straight ahead, unchanged. "What does a dainty little flower have to do with the nasty
old Midgar slums? Quite the teaser."
She paced, looking up at the 'sky' of Midgar, per say. She stroked the pretty flower as
she wandered, lost in thought. Her fingers reached up, tracing the lines on the iron plate
ceiling. Hr eyes blurred together as a storm brewed behind them. They danced like a
child. "Flowers… are like people!" She made her flower dance in the cool night air. "They
are so soft, and so delicate, and so completely vulnerable. She cuddled the flower close
to her neck grinned slightly. "But all these people, all these people in Midgar, live under
this confining grey metropolis of despair." Her last words hung heavy with sorrow. She
patted her basket, hanging loosely by the crook of her elbow. "THIS is my Midgar. And all
my little flower people live there. Soft, delicate. And prisoners." She sighed and sat on
the ground, peering at her flower closely. "Only one thing can help these people to
escape." She made a fist with the flower, shaking it with fury. "Money. Gil. People get
money, they move to a different place. People get money and buy flowers, and the
flowers move to a different place. But…" She closed her eyes tightly. "Is it a better
She jumped to her feet, paced the ground nervously, hurriedly, feverishly speaking in
high, excited tones. "When people move, who says it's any better than this," She waved
her and at the sky. "This putrid pit of nothing that we live in? Sure, it may LOOK nicer.
But is it safe?" She slowed her hurried pace. And smiled. Her hands played with the
petals of her flower. Her eyes smiled grimly. "I can FEEL something, someone,
somewhere out there. Something dark, and disturbing. And waiting. And so as people try
as hard as they possibly can to get out of Midgar, I feel the power growing." She
stomped her foot in a fit of fury. "Waiting! It's just waiting for them!" She sighed.
"Nothing is safe. No where and nothing." She grasped one of the pretty petals. "And just
like… my flowers. People can be hurt."
She ripped off the appealing petal.
She ripped off another.
Their beauty… marred!"
She crumpled the flower into a sticky ball as she clutched her beating heart, throbbing in
her chest. She frowned deeply. "I can't control where my flowers ago, after they are
sold." She concluded. "And I can't tell whether they will be… hurt. But it's evident that it
will happen. I feel it. For every flower. And for every human." She pulled herself meekly
to her feet, dusting her dress and reaching for her wicker basket. With a swift single
motion, a silent look of revered beauty crossed her face and stayed, her posture, poised
and perfection. Behind her mask of pure, unmarred beauty, lie a deep dark secret,
etched into her very being. And it was slowly driving her mad.
"Eventually. It'll happen."
Back she went, back into the streets filled with greasy air and dirt. Back to a gilded cage
of gastronomical proportions. Her lone silhouette impressed on the murky walls of the
alley, she approached the closest person. A man, just like any other. Yet sharing the
"Would you like to buy a flower, sir?"