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insusurro2020-05-19 01:47 pm
- [ event ],
- [ open ],
- [ whispers ],
- aerith [ asha ],
- aerith [ riddle ],
- andrea [ yan ],
- angeal [ ariel ],
- cid [ ariel ],
- cloud [ peach ],
- cor [ asha ],
- elena [ liz ],
- regis [ ariel ],
- reno [ abby ],
- rikku [ iola ],
- rude [ peach ],
- rude [ yan ],
- rufus [ hebe ],
- sephiroth [ bird ],
- sephiroth [ cat ],
- sephiroth [ nyan ],
- sephiroth [ sten ],
- shelke [ dalrint ],
- squall [ peach ],
- tifa [ ash ],
- tifa [ asha ],
- tseng [ mil ],
- veld [ hebe ],
- weiss [ shikki ],
- zack [ asha ]
ARRIVAL.
π ππ πππ π ππππ ππππ ππ ππππ πππ π you moved under your own power. The shadows that dwelt in the corners of your vision vanished, the world is bright and the shackles of destiny fall from your liberated limbs.
You're free.
But before you can take that next step, before you can alter your fate, a terrible howling fills your ears. It's an ill wind full of malice, one that rips you off of your feet and back, back, back from this chance to seize your destiny. The shadows coalesce into a single entity, its hands locking around your throat. It cannot let this stand.
You think that maybe this is the end. The world goes dark as it rushes past you, this is the end.
Except you wake to the feeling of rain on your skin.
The cliffs around you bare the scars of a fierce battle. Before you, a massive city faces the sea. Behind you, greenery sprawls for miles. Midgar has never looked so beautiful, but it has also never looked so unlike itself. The Sister Ray points proudly towards the sea. A bustling city crawls out from its shadow, looking wealthier and more robust than the slums ever did. You don't have long to ponder this.
Because you aren't alone. Others are coming to, looking just as confused and uncertain as you do. Some are battleworn and bloody, as if they were pulled from a fierce battle. Others appear to be in perfect health, as if they were simply pulled from a long slumber, though no less confused and lost. The howling that filled your slowly begins to fade, and as it does, the rain begins to clear.
ππππππ is within a few hours walking distance. ππππ lies not much further in the opposite direction. There is no presence urging you to walk to one or the other, no voice from on high telling you what path your feet should walk. Underneath this infinite blue sky the choice to go - or to stay - is entirely yours.
ππππ ππππ πππ ππ ππππ ππ?
no subject
...Zack never really stopped brimming with sunshine, though, and over time, Sephiroth has found that he admires it. He's always had a way of breaking through walls, no matter how well fortified. Soundly punctured Angeal's, and now he's weaseling his way through Sephiroth's. If he's ever held on to any form of a grudge, he's never let it rule him.
. . . So. When Zack staggers up to him, Sephiroth isn't sure what surprises him more-- the blanket of sweat, blood, and dirt draped over his weary body or... that Zack greets him not with an exhausted still-warm smile but with a look of mourning and scorn as he heaves up the Buster Sword with trembling arms, challenging him. Nevertheless, the end result is the same... Something sharp sticks between Sephiroth's ribs, sinking deep into his chest. Minutes ago, they were in Nibelheim. Zack, smiling and filling the silence with his usual cheer. And now-- Sephiroth can't begin to comprehend what's going on. None of it makes any sense. It's like someone flipped a switch. But what he does know is this: his chest aches... and he will not raise Masamune against his last remaining friend.]
...Zack.
[His voice is even, authoritative, but his eyes - for once - betray him.]
Put it down. I will not fight you.
no subject
One step forward. The things Sephiroth is saying don't make sense. The tone is off. He sounds like... Don't think about it. He called Zack a traitor. There was Tifa, poor, poor sweet little Tifa... And Cloud. This is all his fault.
Another step. Blood drums on the sand like rainfall. The world is spinning round and round. "And then what?" he'd asked. "Fail to eliminate them." Zack laughs right along with the memory. Keeps laughing, even as he falls to his knees, slumping against the broad side of his sword. Fuck, he can't stop laughing. It's like that first night in Nibelheim all over again, staying up all night with Cloud and having delirious gigglefits over nothing really funny until they both passed out against the headboard. Hurts to laugh, still can't stop. At least he's gonna die with a smile on his face.
Oh, but Sephiroth doesn't get it, does he? It's their inside joke, but he's not laughing, so maybe he doesn't remember. He's so out of juice by the time he scrounges up the strength to look up again that the mako glow in his eyes has dimmed to nothing. Just before he passes out, he manages to deliver the punchline, breathless and wheezing and still laughing: ]
Mission... hnβ failed...
[ And then darkness. ]
no subject
It's not as if Zack can land a mortal blow in this state-- even if he wants to.
One step forward is all Sephiroth manages-- Zack wheezes. 'Mission...Β hnβ failed,' he says before he's crumples into a heap. Not even a breath of hesitation: in his urgency, Sephiroth blinks forward - gone and then there again - to reach Zack's body. No-- he thinks, probing for a pulse. Not like this.
...Zack's still alive, but his rhythm is slow. Faint. He doesn't have a lot of time to spare. Even a well-placed Curaga is only enough to keep him steady. Masamune evanesces from his grasp, into the ether, and Sephiroth plucks the Buster Sword out of the earth in turn. Angeal would descend from the Lifestream itself to lecture him if he left it behind. He has to cobble together a makeshift harness to fasten the blade to his back-- it lays awkwardly, pressing uncomfortably against his shoulder blades, but it's secure. Good enough to get them where they need to go. Gingerly, Sephiroth scoops Zack into his arms, allowing himself only a moment to decide where he'll find decent medical attention: the overgrown and newly-green Midgar or the quiet and modest Kalm.
He decides to take his chances with Midgar.
With silent grace and Zack tucked securely against his chest, Sephiroth bounds off the cliffside towards Midgar. He makes it look so easy-- as if it's an ordinary thing to clear a forty-foot drop and come gliding easily to the ground without so much as jarring the man in his arms. Frankly... that's the easy part. Midgar looks to be a few hours away, and he's not sure if Zack has that much strength left in him. ...So. Sephiroth sprints with all the speed he dares-- a black and silver shroud surging across the fields to Midgar. Singularly focused on this one goal, this one mission, the only words on his mind - repeating over and over like a mantra - are-- Stay with me, Zack. Keep fighting.
If the journey tires him at all, Sephiroth doesn't grant himself the liberty of thinking about it. Zack's well-being takes priority. But they make it in undoubtedly record time, and it takes relatively no time at all for Sephiroth to find a willing doctor above the plate. A middle-aged woman with kind eyes and salt-and-pepper hair ushers them inside after taking one look at Zack, leading them to an empty bed. He helps where he's able, but he mostly leaves the nursing to her deft and tender hands.
Once she's done all she can, Sephiroth pulls the Buster Sword free from his back, propping it against the wall near Zack's bed. --For a moment, he considers leaving. He wonders, perhaps, if there's any sense in trying to stay, to talk. And... maybe there isn't.
But it feels wrong to simply abandon him.
...It doesn't even strike him until later, when he's sunk pensively into the chair next to Zack's bed, watching silently, that he does understand why Zack was laughing. ...Mission failed. --The irony isn't lost on him; he never thought there'd be a day when he'd have to refuse to fight Zack, too.]
gosh your tags are so pretty ;;
When he opens his eyes again, who knows how long later, it's a little bit of a disappointment to not see the quilted coverlet of his childhood bed. (Would he even fit in it anymore? Probably not.) He could have sworn his family was just right there, in another room, waiting for him to come and join them. What he finds instead is a cold, industrial ceiling, sterile sheets that belong to no one, and Sephiroth.
Sephiroth, absent of the dark shadows beneath his eyes. There are no blades drawn here, save his own, rested carefully against a wall. And he's sitting vigil beside the bed, as if he cares whether Zack wakes up or not, as if he's waiting for him. There's only one logical explanation for this, right? ]
M'I dead?
[ Zack has managed to twist himself on to his side, one arm plunged beneath his pillow. He has a lofty grin fixed firmly on the man beside him. That touch of trouble in his eyes survived his recovery too, it seems.
No, he doesn't think that he is dead. Doesn't know what he thinks, actually. If this is another dream, he doesn't want it to end, so why think too hard about it? Best to just chuckle to himself and savor this rare sight, this moment of serenity he never thought he'd have again.
And maybe give the Hero of Wutai a little bit of a hard time. He kinda deserves it. But just a little. ]
Are you the angel sent to carry me home?
akjhfkjsh oh thank you ; ; i'm very sorry that i'm so slow
He comes to no viable conclusions-- only more questions.
Zack stirs from time to time, and Sephiroth will spare a watchful glance or two, but it's not until he hears Zack's groggy voice that he sits up properly. He's anticipating resistance-- for that mournful and angry tone to bleed back into Zack's voice. Sephiroth steels himself, but then he looks and-- Zack's grinning at him. A surge of warmth - of relief - washes through his rib cage, spreading further and further out until it inevitably reaches the corners of his mouth and creeps into his eyes.
Never before did Sephiroth think he'd be so glad to see that twinkle of mischief in Zack's eyes--
Are you the angel sent to carry me home?
--and if a vibrant hum manages to press past Sephiroth's lips... well. Surely he's not laughing.]
Not quite. If anyone here deserves such a title-- [He nods his head towards the door.] --it would be the doctor.
[Gradually, however, Sephiroth's expression sobers. It doesn't need to be said, really, but--] You were... not in good shape.