sephiroth, “tol alien boy”, SOLDIER first class. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
supersoldier) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
middaeg2020-04-14 08:07 pm
supersoldier) wrote in middaeg2020-04-14 08:07 pm
( open ) i will never be
Who: Sephiroth and YOU!
When: Aereuer 13th
Where: The Looking-Glass House
What: Memshare event!
Warnings: N/A, will add when necessary.
[Sephiroth's mirror is framed in black, cut in clean, elegant lines that look as though they are sharp to touch. It is hard to perceive much else in such a dark color, not without peering closer, and strangers won't note anything odd. Those who know him better could see more: patterned lines interspersed throughout like the vanes and notches of feathers, and a long, curving katana carved into the bottom. The contour lines of a steely city, artfully hidden beneath the rest.
The wood is glossy, unmarred, and perfect to those uncaring. Spiderwebbing, barely-there hairline fractures are visible to closer CR. They shimmer at the right angle, so briefly that it might have been a trick of the light.]
((ooc; these memshare prompts are open to anyone unless specified otherwise! he'll just be more guarded about a few of the more personal ones if you're not close CR. if you want something specific, hmu at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
aurajen! thanks!))
When: Aereuer 13th
Where: The Looking-Glass House
What: Memshare event!
Warnings: N/A, will add when necessary.
[Sephiroth's mirror is framed in black, cut in clean, elegant lines that look as though they are sharp to touch. It is hard to perceive much else in such a dark color, not without peering closer, and strangers won't note anything odd. Those who know him better could see more: patterned lines interspersed throughout like the vanes and notches of feathers, and a long, curving katana carved into the bottom. The contour lines of a steely city, artfully hidden beneath the rest.
The wood is glossy, unmarred, and perfect to those uncaring. Spiderwebbing, barely-there hairline fractures are visible to closer CR. They shimmer at the right angle, so briefly that it might have been a trick of the light.]
((ooc; these memshare prompts are open to anyone unless specified otherwise! he'll just be more guarded about a few of the more personal ones if you're not close CR. if you want something specific, hmu at
no subject
As he'd checked the job board for the day, the same as he checked it every day, some store keep he remembered from a few day's tasks ago (was that the 'help me unload these boxes' guy, or was it the 'I got robbed, go find the bastards and get my money back' guy?) had approached him, yelling that there was something going on at the Looking Glass House, that all of the mirrors were out of control.
...That...
In his head, the mirrors were his way home. Eventually. ...If he had one to go back to. So of course, he'd come running. Except to him, it wasn't a case of 'all' of the mirrors. ....Or even a third of them. His own was lit, of course, but perhaps two or three were flickering faintly- kind of like a light that needed changing.
...Out of control, his ass.
But it still needed checking out. He been moving between the lit mirrors indiscriminately, but there had been a certain one which had presented more interest on his part than others, and... well, yeah. This one, the sword on it...
He knows what to do- to touch the thing until the ripples bend and shift the pane of glass, to step through, to sit tight, and to not say or do anything. To watch whatever happens, and to move on.
Except he didn't exactly expect to be standing on Junon's cannon. Shinra's VR system, of course, is in a league of its own. To someone like him who had never experienced it, the sea breeze's smell (even the smell of the slum village below) is taken as the real thing. As is the very real chill that comes from being right next to the ocean, as well as the gusts of wind that threaten to blow him right off the thing if he doesn't pay attention to his footing.
To him, he's there- so of course the fighting also feels like the city's under attack. Upon closer inspection, there seems to be something in the sky, discharging something that- at first, looks like heavy automatic fire from some sort of gatling gun, but seems to stick to something else, almost making it look like a sun.
Something else falls from the source of the energy. But he can't pay attention to it. Not when the ball of energy suddenly bursts. It's magic. He hadn't realized it earlier, it was that far away. But it's some kind of magic- and one particular burst of it is heading right toward him from where it'd deflected. All he can do is pull his sword out in attempt of blocking it.
He's not the target, of course. It's only what's fired from the red speck in the sky and then deflected from the black one- but shit if he doesn't feel that some kind of injury's coming from this.
The magic goes right through him. And it... it explodes? as it hits the generator behind him, and... he's fine?
What?
Except there's more. Long lines of light which cuts the cannon itself into so many pieces, as if thousands of tonnes of steel is nothing.
Being on the thing, Cloud finds himself running toward the start of it, but of course, he's not fast enough. As parts of it he's standing on groan and fall, he's leaping between them as they crash through the air, eventually getting his bearings again on the back end of it, just in time to leap back from the explosion resulting from the mako containment unit on it- and...
They're down.
When did that happen? He didn't even notice.
He can barely see the fight now. It's happening too quickly- and all he can do is stare as Sephiroth.... well, batters, a man in red with an offensive that can only be described as overwhelming in its ferocity.
It's Sephiroth. That's for sure. But the other guy? It's ...some guy in red that... somehow, his head hurts to look at. But suddenly, there's a larger man- taller, even than Sephiroth, and the sword on his back...
...He can't have the same one. That's...
He stares- and he stares and he stares, even as, well, despite having the buster sword on his back, the largest of the three uses himself to keep them apart.
And-
Well, that's an end.
...Junon itself seems to collapse and fold in on itself around him. It's important. But it's also not- not compared to the sight of the three of them, to listening to their exchange.
They're all SOLDIER. He can tell by their eyes. Relative freedom with their uniforms, possibly First Class. ...Actually standing up to Sephiroth, even for a few minutes, probably First Class.
His gaze drifts toward this version of Sephiroth after the man in red leaves. When was this? ...Who were they?
And shit- his voice didn't come from the right place. Startled, he looks in the direction of which the (present!) Sephiroth stands.]
Who was that man?
no subject
But Cloud is here to distract from that, even if he notices him only just now and after scrambling about in the fake environment in a harried way. Maybe he could have spoken up to the other man, but watching his reactions were all too intriguing to interrupt.
No doubt he’s surprised to see it. He expects the question, and though he tries to keep anything disapproving from his tone, he cannot quite succeed.]
Genesis Rhapsodos. SOLDIER First Class. [A friend, at the time. He watches as the doors slide shut, the man in red no longer a part of this old memory any longer.]
Or rather, he was once. No longer. He abandoned Shinra soon after this happened.
[In the memory, Sephiroth and Angeal are the only two that remain. He remembers the lecture he would receive soon after.]
no subject
[Familiar. What's elicited is a pretty strange feeling, one that brings to mind Zack, but more prevailingly, some middle-aged guy in a lab coat. And a good deal of shame attached to it. ...Wait. That's right.
He remembers now- he's seen that man before. Zack fought him, right? While he went after a scientist. ...Hollander? Yeah. And the scientist got in a lucky elbow and knocked him flat out.
...Yeah. That's... pretty embarrassing. Getting laid out by a guy from the science department. Wonderful.
An exhale follows, and he takes the last few steps toward Sephiroth, arms folded tightly around himself. To Cloud, it feels so long ago. But it probably wasn't that long, for Sephiroth. This training session, too. Couldn't have been long at all. ]
Right. I remember Zack was on the mission to-
[Well.]
That big guy with the sword- [His sword.] went AWOL some time later, as well. ...Right?
no subject
[He holds in an exhale as he turns to look at Cloud, focusing on him rather than the flickering memory that plays out in the background. It’s strange, to have the other here — this memory is personal, and Sephiroth does not want these pieces of himself on display for Cloud to see, but he can twist the information into something relevant, wrung free of personal attachment.
At least, he can attempt. Sephiroth’s expression has melded itself back into its default, difficult to read state.]
He, too, thought there was no recourse but to leave Shinra. And though desertion isn’t a crime that the company takes lightly—
[He glances beyond Cloud’s shoulder. There, Angeal begins one of his famous lectures directed towards the memory of him. How strange to see it again, how uncomfortable it makes him feel.]
—it was Shinra’s own secrets that set them down that path. The science department keeps many.
[The irony is that Sephiroth has no clue just how true that is.
For now, a gloved hand motions to the dark-haired man.]
His name is Angeal Hewley. He became a mentor for many in SOLDIER, but for Zack especially. He... [He drops his hand.] In the end, Angeal and Genesis both came into conflict with Shinra. And Angeal paid for it with his life.
[He wasn’t there, he wouldn’t take the job. But Zack had told him, relayed the details of Angeal’s transformation and how he had to be stopped of his own accord.]
So what you’ve seen today is a dynamic that is soon to fall apart.
no subject
What tipped him off was the way Genesis left. The way this memory's Sephiroth allowed him to do so, the expression on his face as he allowed him to do so, and the way of which this other man, this Angeal, is currently going into some kind of lecture, something that sounds...
...well...
lengthy.
The fact this memory's version of him is standing there, taking it, tells him all he needs to know. But he's quiet about it. Not for Sephiroth's comfort- more for the fact he doesn't want return questions about friends.
...But even then, it's disarming, to think that there were people Sephiroth actually gave a damn about. And it makes him wonder- really wonder- about Nibelheim. This Angeal must have died before then, right? Because...]
...Right. Zack changed about then, too. He got put on leave, and came back more serious.
[...And not happy, either. Not even remotely close to it.
His gaze moves, again, from Sephiroth to Angeal.]
Started using that sword about then, too.
[A quiet exhale.
... Angeal's still talking? He blinks, as what was a long, convoluted, very meaningful story about the virtues of honour, discipline, and respect which leads to so many more questions suddenly fizzles out into a single statement. 'And that's why you don't give him what he wants.'
His eyebrows furrow, and he glances to (the viewing) Sephiroth, just as Angeal claps a hand over the memory's shoulder pauldron and walks off with a deep, satisfied laugh.]
I guess you had to deal with that a lot, huh. ...Not the stories. I mean people jealous of you.
no subject
...That sword was emblematic both of what was lost, and what he should hold onto. As far as I could gather, at least. I didn’t try to pry too deeply into the sentiment.
[He watches the memory play out. The voices are warbling and indistinct until the very end. Sephiroth would admit to ineptly remembering pieces of it, knowing that his old friend’s famous lectures always ran long, confusing, and convoluted. It often made more sense to wait them out, pay attention only to the point made at the end. And that’s why you don’t give him what he wants. Maybe he shouldn’t have. Or maybe it wouldn't have changed anything at all.
Sephiroth forces himself to look at Cloud a second time.]
I can’t do anything about what others think of me. [Both the adulation or jealousy.] You learn to separate yourself from it. Realize how irrelevant it is, in the end.
no subject
[If only he knew about the sword. Cloud's... not exactly been affectionate in regard to the thing. Or how he used it back then. His own version of it, some years later, was covered in nicks and scrapes from rough treatment. In his mind it served him well, what seemed like a long time ago, But it wasn't exactly worth much of a damn. Not really. It was simply constructed. Not exactly well designed. Its counterbalance, in particular, was a bitch.
... But even then, he'd kept it. Even when it wasn't worth using compared to other pieces, something in him wanted to keep hold of it, even if who he thought was its original owner had been buried in his mind. It still felt important.
But even then, he's certain he's never heard the scant details Sephiroth can provide about it before.]
...Right. I get what you mean.
[He does. He truly does. He'd spent so long with the same mindset- of not giving a damn- or seeming that he didn't care about what people thought of him. But...]
Looks like they cared about you, though.
[Also looked like they, as people, weren't irrelevant either.]
no subject
I wonder.
[He knows it’ll not suffice. He’s not been asked a clear question, but he can feel it hanging over his head, made solid through the presence of this memory. It would be easier to remain indifferent, cold. But Cloud is his bonded and he knows that a lie would be seen through even the most unwavering armor.]
They were my friends. Now one is dead, and the other is a traitor.
[And Zack— The words are halted in his throat with severe efficiency.]
Maybe the foundations were never that strong to begin with.
no subject
[It's an honest enough answer, maybe even leaning toward obtuse. But it's not exactly something said out of ignorance. Not entirely, anyway. Sephiroth said it. One of those men is dead. The other one's lost to him, because he's a deserter. There's nothing that can be done, so it's useless to talk about observations, about how he can see the fact that they gave a damn about each other.
But...]
I take it the degradation got 'em.
[It's a difficult subject. A SOLDIER's mental state is changed. From there, it only goes downhill. Everyone knew that. Even people that had nothing to do with Shinra. And it's why most people are terrified of them. But the changes... that's different. The changes are known to every SOLDIER, hell- sometimes people like him who were assigned as support, but other than that? Company secret.
All of it though- it's not something that's discussed. It's ignored, talked around. Because it's horrible. It's beyond horrible.
And Zack said...
That they were all monsters.]
Explains why they left, too. I wouldn't stick around either.
[A pause. His gaze has shifted to stay on Sephiroth as he says that. They're still in the training room, and it doesn't seem like anything's going on- but even if there was, he wouldn't. this is too important.]
...It'll affect you too, right? Eventually.
no subject
In the memory, Angeal has already left. His own memory-self lingers for only a few moments before also heading out, maybe stopping at a control panel to flag maintenance to tend to the state of the training room, but little else. That leaves just only them in this place, which has already begun to fade away at the edges.]
…Genesis wanted to be a hero. He couldn't do that after his body started to betray him.
[So yes, in plain terms— the degradation started it all.
He regards Cloud closely, wondering if there’s an implied question nestled in the one spoken.]
I don’t know. The expectation is yes, it will. But the rules always apply differently to me. I’m not—
[the same as everyone else]
—sure. And there’s no point in dwelling on what will or won’t come.
no subject
[Everyone wanted to be a hero, didn't they? The idea, no, the misconception that he could become anything close to Sephiroth gave him an out from Nibelheim. Zack wanted to be a hero too. That idea was his everything- even after he changed. Must've been the reason he took that sword, too. So he could carry this guy's, this Angeal's, wish.
...One afternoon from his memories, an inn room, in that town, finally makes sense. It's sobering, for sure. But it's not something he wants to go into. It's... painful, to understand at least some of what he meant back then. Uniquely so.
His expression is a taught frown even before Sephiroth explains, and while his eyes do move to Sephiroth's catlike ones at it- they move away instantly- tellingly- lingering on the floor.]
I guess, yeah. You're stronger than anyone. Even other Firsts. I guess... it might not happen to you.
[Not the physical effects, anyway. But it's so much more than that. Physically wasn't important. He died before then. Mentally? ...Well. Wouldn't be a stretch to imagine it contributed to his sense of self collapsing and ...changing. ]
You think it was for the best? I mean... what happened to them. All of the other SOLDIERs that defected too. I wouldn't want to be alive like that.
[And, as the memory starts to fade:]
C'mon. I don't wanna find out if something's gonna happen if we stay here too long.
[Concern? Yes. Concern. ...And not just for himself.]
no subject
Words, as always, require effort to string together. In this case, it’s dissatisfying when they don’t arrive immediately, and so he hides that empty space by being the first to walk. In the distance, the shimmering quicksilver of his mirror’s exit forms and glistens, beckoning them both closer.]
It isn’t that simple. To write off what happened to them as ‘for the best’, simply because it was inevitable. [What happened to Angeal, the way Zack’s expression looked when he told him; how can anyone objectively say that it was for the best, to end like that?]
If I had my way, none of them would have been in that position to start. Caught between desertion or accepting the fate that Shinra had already doled out to them.
no subject
[That. Mostly. He didn't know Genesis or Angeal, and despite viewing the memory, despite knowing that there were people that cared for them, it's... kind of difficult for him to see them as people, rather than what Zack had said- monsters. ...But it's more complex than that too. The insight blurred the lines a little.]
More what they're capable of. If they're not themselves, all that power's-
[He lingers by the mirror, turning his gaze back to Sephiroth. This time, it lingers.]
Remember Nibelheim? The way everyone in that town hid 'emselves away. Normal people... they're afraid of SOLDIER. Mostly because Shinra use 'em when all of their army, all of their weapons, all of their mechs, aren't enough. ...It scares the hell out of most people, even though...
[Zack. Even Sephiroth, before he lost his mind.]
... You're human. Nothing not human about SOLDIER. Some people have got limits. Other people have got aspirations. Things you won't do. But when someone's gone, when all that there is, is power...
[His eyes finally move, and concern shows on his face.]
...It's nothing. I don't have any right to say anything.
no subject
Sephiroth himself is the very apotheosis of both. He knows it quite well, for he has lived it for many years of his life, and therefore Cloud is not telling him anything new under the sun.
And yet— somehow, the words stir discontent in his chest. Deep, years-long, the kind that’s festered in place but oft kept under control. No doubt it ripples through their bond, and knowing that only enhances its poignancy.]
I never said I wasn’t human. [It’s spoken as a correction, but it lacks such an edge that he wonders who he’s trying to fool. Still, his eyes remain forward towards the mirror’s exit.] I understand what you’re saying. But when power and ability are all that defines you, that line begins to blur. Splitting hairs becomes a waste of time.
[He pauses before the gleam of silver, stopping only briefly to allow Cloud to through it first.]
I wouldn’t expect you to understand, but that’s not a bad thing, Cloud. ...We should leave while we can.