[this quiet man, with his few words, says so much with just four: it can be beautiful. it speaks of the understanding that the city has a lot more flaws than what its beauty can hide, but wanda is not here to judge nor condemn, instead narrowing her focus to his question.

no, not quite.

this city is quite unlike her own, in ways that she can't imagine. at least the ones she has seen. but the question also feels like permission to show him, should she ever ask. and so—wanda lifts one of her hands and allows a flurry of red to fall over the image of midgar, over all this unnatural green, to allow for static-like walls to build in scarlet, climbing as high rises: new york city, as she remembers it, with its thousands of lights.]

Many say this one is one of the most exciting. [tall buildings, lights, no sleep.] But they can be different.

[another twist of her hand and the buildings shift, replaced now with quieter glasgow. she pulls her hand down, letting the green glow of mako to overwhelm the red of her magic, sephiroth's domain taking hold again in its original form.]

I am probably the worst person to ask. [with a light shrug she turns to him.] I never got to travel the world much.