finalflight | PSL; [NOLI MANERE]

PSL; [NOLI MANERE]

burn me out, leave me on the otherside.

[In another timeline, diverged down an invisible path, the battle was long over.

The dragon’s corpse, still shining emerald green in the haze of the sun, would be pressed unmoving into the ground, its maw still gaping open, tongue lazily hanging over jagged teeth. Two clean cuts, deep into its chest, would ooze hot and coppery ribbons of blood, a color matching the hue plastered across the edge of Masamune. Zack would still have his knees ground into the dirt, hand grasping at a side as he tried to pull himself up; lucky that he’d come away with nothing more than cracked ribs, something healing magic would have to tend to soon. And in the vehicle behind them, still idling, the blond-haired infantryman — Cloud, quiet and sullen and nervous — would be watching, harried, but wise enough to keep his distance. And they would soon carry onwards to their mission to Nibelheim, undeterred.

But in this instance, this strange set of circumstances, the fight does not go so smoothly.

He doesn’t understand why, or how. This creature should be nothing, his blade should cut straight through its hide instead of only managing glancing blows that barely scrape closely-packed scales. A monster should not be this strong, no matter how permeating the Mako leak was in the surrounding area. It’s beyond unnatural, something that has him gritting his teeth beneath a twisted frown as Sephiroth rushes forward, blade flashing.

Zack’s already unconscious, a deep wound bleeding from the shoulder courtesy of the dragon’s claws, body strewn several feet away, now useless in this fight. The creature rises up on its haunches, spreading giant wings as it snarls down at the only moving target, and catches Masamune in its teeth. Sephiroth pushes; it pushes back. He hears footsteps rushing forward from behind him, staggering, panicked breaths drawing closer, and he turns his head just in time to see the infantryman closing the space between them, readying the rifle that had been slung over his shoulder. Sephiroth knows he may as well be heading straight for death.]

Stay back— [Comes the command, in a voice so used to giving them that it hides the jarring reality of the situation — that this is not good, this is unheard of, and judging what may happen from here anyone’s guess. But it’s too late, because there’s pressure clamping down on his blade, and then with a feral twist of the neck, the dragon has snapped his weapon in half with a reverberating ring.

It’s only slight, but his eyes widen. The other half of the blade topples to the ground, his gloved-grip around the hilt falters for just a second, but it’s all the time the dragon needs to lurch up with fire filling its maw.

It’s the last thing he sees, flame and writhing heat all around him, and then the world goes black.

— — — — — —

He has his face pressed into soggy sand. Hair a tangled mess, clothes damp and sticking, as the waves thinly slide over his form. And then he’s jolting awake with a start, fingers pressed into the shore, hefting himself up and immediately tensing, expecting to see fire and teeth as he cranes his neck—

And is met only with a clear blue sky, a bright shining sun, and the scent of the sea. Masamune’s two halves lay half-buried in a mound of sand, one laying flat, the other sticking straight up a short distance away. The hiss of an exhale, trying to bring himself to his feet, disoriented and maybe a little wobbly, head bowed down. (Also unheard of.)

Both confusion and frustration dance in his insides. What’s happening?]

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[Up he goes, hefting Luka back to his feet like he had suffered no injury at all.]

That was nothing.

[Sephiroth, who had grown up with training simulation after training simulation having magic flung his way, thinks very little of it. He has been struck by lightning before, and though this instance had been particularly jarring compared to most, it was not nearly enough to dislodge his focus or cold determination.]

You should see how 1st Class SOLDIERs usually train. Being attacked by lightning, fire, ice, and more... It's nothing new.

[The glass enclosure is cold, sterile, with a single bed for Luka to lay on and spartan furnishings beyond that. It is not made of comfort, but only the bare minimum required to live. Harsh fluorescent lights buzz above, and the view of the laboratory is visible past the glass, where instruments beep and lit charts flicker in rhythm to unknown statistics.

He is left alone for a long while, stripped of any possessions, somehow dressed in plain white, threadbare clothing. When he awakens, there is no one there to meet him. The alien environment is silent but for the lab’s metronomic noises, and if Luka tries very hard to scrutinize his surroundings, he may spot a far window that reveals the view of a dark-steeled city from high above.

This is the 68th floor of the Shinra building, and the view under any other circumstances would be darkly impressive.

Thirty minutes pass before muffled footsteps and the hiss of a door sliding open heralds the presence of a black-haired man in a white lab coat. He has sharp grin and a cruel look in his eyes, hidden barely by darkened spectacles.]

Finally awake? [-he says, pushing up the bridge of his glasses.] Good, you’ve made me wait long enough.

[ Luka doesn't remember much. After the witch – some auri woman in a swamp. She had too much hat and not enough teeth – things are kind of fuzzy. There was some mumbo jumbo about telling Sephiroth to think of home, to remember the exact moment he left, and then the whol room hat surged with aether. Some kind of tear or portal or something opened on one end of the room, and all at once it felt like someone had grabbed Luka by the navel and hurled him off a cliff. Wind rushed past his ears, lights flared in his vision and he had the brief and unpleasant sensation of his knees slamming onto cold steel, and then his world went dark.

He sort of drifted to consciousness now and again, but the instant the bright lights assaulted his vision, he'd squeeze his eyes shut and drift under again.

Now he's well and truly awake, and he spends longer squinting at the ceiling and trying to recall what in the seven hells just happened than he'd care to admit.

He hadn't... gone through the portal too, had he? That's impossible, right? He wasn't anywhere near the damn thing, and just because he was really starting to think that he would miss Sephiroth's company, like, a lot, he wasn't so foolhardy as to fling himself in there too. Blasted witch must have messed something up.

He spends a good while pacing around the room, anxiety swirling around in his gut as it becomes very apparent that he's being kept prisoner. He pounds on the walls of his cell a bit, yells and curses for someone to let him out of this swiving room or so help him, but there is no answer. Only sterile white and the hum of the lights above. Is this really Sephiroth's world? Fuck.

At long last, someone comes in, and Luka steps away from the class walls of his cage, fists balled and fangs bared as he grits his teeth. ]

You're one to talk. I been awake for a while.

[That earns him nothing more than a sneering chuckle from the scientist, who seems to twist Luka’s frustration into his own amusement. Vaguely slouching shoulders shake with the effort.]

Of course, now you have been. But you’ve been drifting in and out for a while. Ever since we found both you and Sephiroth sprawled unconscious in the middle of the Science Department, like presents dropped on our doorstep! Only now do you seem lucid enough to stand and speak; and it’s been three days.

[Three days since every piece of technology in the Science Department had gone haywire, readings spiking and gauges spinning into incomprehensible measurements. And then, lo and behold, the Legendary SOLDIER himself had returned (albeit in a less graceful way than most had ever seen the man, how funny, he thinks), with a stranger who had tagged along for the ride.

A biological curiosity, an unexpected variable that none knew what to do with, but they were heretofore blessed with the freedom to do whatever they liked. He always takes delight in indulging himself.

The scientist takes another step forward, leaning in closer to the glass, narrowing his eyes in scrutiny at Luka. His ears, his tail.]

Now that you’re awake, I can finally ask you a few questions. You may as well sit down and make yourself comfortable.

[ Three days? Seven hells, what did that swamp witch do to him?

Luka's gaze only narrows. He can feel his nails biting into his palms, fists clenched tightly at his sides in nervousness and anger. His wild guess was not so wild after all, he'd been dumped here right alongside Sephiroth, only Sephiroth's world doesn't have miqo'te in it. These eggheads probably think he's worth dissecting, but he'll be damned before he lets that happen.

But even before his own safety, there is one thing on his mind, ]

What happened to Sephiroth? Where is he?

[ Probably fine, given how much he means to these people, but he has to be sure. ]

[That question causes eyebrows to lift, telling in its own right. The patronizing smile doesn't fade.]

I'm the one who's supposed to be asking questions. Sephiroth isn't your concern, not one bit... oh, but I'll humor you. He recovered quickly, as expected, ushered back into containment for a day to run a few tests. To make sure everything is running at baseline, as usual.

[He waves a hand dismissively, like swatting away a fly of a thought.]

He's out now, of course. Standard procedure despite the circumstances. We've tried questioning him, but, well... he's in a mood.

[But they'll wring their answers out eventually. The boy was stubborn in his own way, but he had no reason to withhold information after a readjustment period. Not when he was made to believe that he reappeared alone, not with his strange friend(?) in tow.

A quickly crafted but purposefully useful lie. He didn't need him poking around in here with no reason other than useless camaraderie.]

He did say he was in another world, however. Just by looking at you, I take it that's not a lie? Or do you not have any idea where you are?

[ Some small part of the tension winding its way through Luka's frame abates when he learns that Sephiroth is safe. Well, safe enough.

Which leaves the rather large portion of the tension still remaining for his own circumstances.

I’ve seen what the company has done to people I called friends once.

This does not bode well for him, not at all. ]

I'm not at the swiving beach, that's for sure. [ His tail twitches, eyes scanning the room. There really is no way out of here, is there? ] So what if it is true?

[It does not bode well. Luka is taking residence in a containment cell that has housed people in it before. And in another place on this floor, where experimentations run unchecked under his own authority, monsters writhe in glass cells, gone dormant in buoyant, viscous liquid.

No, it is never a good thing to earn his scientific curiosity in this way. The company might take advantage of his continuously prodding intellect, but in the end, he cares not for businessmen and their wiles, either — only that his own mind might be satiated, by pushing the boundaries of what’s possible. His genius on display, for all to see.

How might it manifest itself with this strange cat-like man now at his disposal? He wonders.]

If it’s true, then it opens up a whole realm of possibilities, and not just from a biological standpoint. I daresay that the theoretical physicists would have quite a bit of fun trying to figure out how you arrived here. And how to duplicate those same set of circumstances.

[His grin widens enough to show a flash of teeth, tapping gently at the glass as if Luka were a fish in a tank.]

But I care more about biology, and since you’re as good as mine now, that’s all that matters. So tell me— what are you?

[He doesn’t ask for a name. He doesn’t care about the individual, only the building blocks of what makes them function, their limitations, their differences.]

Edited 2020-03-27 22:48 (UTC)

[ He doesn't like any of this. Not the implications about others researching travel to his world, and definitely not this man's interest in his "biology". That's what mad Garlean scientists say before they cut you open, and perhaps this man is not so different.

Evil is evil no matter where you go, right?

Luka backs away from that tap on the glass, ears drawn back and fangs bared in a silent hiss. ]

I'm a fuckin' faerie.

[And that earns a laugh from him, a grating noise for how uncaring it is, and for how the subject’s retort is so unfortunately predictable.]

This will be easier, you know, if you simply answer my very straightforward questioning. We can circumvent future invasiveness on my side if you put those fangs away and consider the inevitability of your situation.

[This time he does shrug, followed by an open-handed gesture at Luka.]

So, again, what are you? Are those feline features of yours just for show?

[ Oh, Luka does not like this guy. He’s so slimy and uncaring and actually quite creepy. Luka’s finding the prospect of this man getting his hands on him to be less and less appealing by the second, and it was already unappealing from the start. ]

Why don’t you come on in here and take a look. I’ll sit real still, I promise.

[ He absolutely will not, if the glare on his face is anything to go by. ]

[He adjusts his glasses a second time, grin unfaltering.]

Tempting, but closer examination will have to wait until later.

[Promising.]

Answer the question. The more corporative you are, the easier this will be for both of us. You're acting like I'm about to put you under the knife! Ha.

[ He kind of figured this guy wouldn't take the bait, but he can't deny just how much he wants a chance to deck that smarmy grin right off his face. ]

You got me caged up like a rat and you want me to believe you ain't gonna cut me open? Yeah, right.

[ At the end of the day, however, it's not like answering this of all questions is revealing some huge secret. Sephiroth hadn't known what he was at all, even after he'd been told. ]

I'm a miqo'te, which probably means a fat load of nothing to you.

I wouldn't give a rat a place to sleep.

[As if that's supposed to make Luka feel any more fortunate.

The man makes a mental note of the term -- miqo'te -- but knows that he'll only have to rely so much on memory when he could merely play back the audio on this very-much-recorded conversation.]

But you're right, it doesn't. So enlighten me. Are you in the same taxonomical rank as a human? The same species paired with a few more evolutionary divergences?

[ No, that really doesn't make Luka feel any better at all.

Also, they've somehow reached the questions Luka can't answer in record time. There's a lot of big words there, but even if he knew what they meant, Luka gets the feeling that he still wouldn't be able to come up with anything satisfactory. ]

Do I look like a swiving scientist to you? I dunno what any of that means.

Uneducated, are we? Even Sephiroth would be able to answer that one.

[Sephiroth had the advantage of growing up surrounded by scientific terms lobbed his direction, however. The boy is cognizant of more science than he cares to show, but that's neither here nor there. His point is being made that you should definitely educate yourself, Luka! Read a book.]

Let me simplify it for you. Can your kind reproduce with a human?

[ He just wrinkles his nose at the jab. He already knows Sephiroth can think circles around him, he doesn't need this guy to tell him that. ]

What's a human, then? That you? No fuzzy ears, uglier than a gobbue's arsecrack? Not if you were the last person on earth.

[Everyone is uneducated compared to him. Even Sephiroth. Don't take it personally -- not that he'd care if you did or otherwise.

It is comforting that he only looks amused at the insult? Likely not.]

No feline ears, no tail to match. No... fangs, I presume? Not accounting for the biological differences unobservable to the naked eye, it's a fair summary. Yes, human. Like Sephiroth- Well! Mostly like Sephiroth.

You don't have them where you're from?

[ The fact that this man seems to shrug off Luka's every insult with a grin is very unnerving indeed, but he would bet it's because he's on the outside of the cage. He's the one with all the power here, and he knows it. Sharp words and a quick wit will not get Luka out of here, no matter how much he wishes it were so. ]

We got 'em. They're called hyur, though. Most folk frown on it, but nothing's stopping a hyur and a miqo'te from getting cozy. I never met a half-breed myself.

[He makes a noise from the back of his throat, impossible to discern whether or not it’s acknowledgment, satisfaction, or lacking surprise.]

Still not a very conclusive reply. But I suppose there are ways of finding out in a more empirical way.

Would you consider yourself physically superior to the average... what was it, “hyur”?

[ Luka has never been much for patience, and that combined with his frayed nerves are making him even more twitchy. He's trying here, not that it will save his life, and this guy can't even be satisfied with the answers he does give. ]

The hells you want from me, huh? I'm just some kid from out in the sticks, you think I give a chocobo's arse about "superiority" or "taxicomical" or whatever the fuck?

You want me to lay it out for you, then Sephiroth outcalsses me in every single way, but I could sure as shite take your pasty arse, if you'd stop being such a coward and hiding behind this fucking glass!

[ His rant is punctuated with both fists swinging up and forward, the sides of his clenched hands colliding heavily and loudly with the glass encasing him. It doesn't do anything but cause his hands to sting, but there had been a part of him hoping for the glass to spiderweb and crack. ]

[The glass enclosure is made for specimens who might try to escape, and it is therefore designed to withstand so much as a rain if gunfire and more. Luka’s fists barely do more than cause the surface to vibrate.

Hojo, on the other hand, suddenly barks out laughter.]

And what makes you think I want to draw the comparison solely to Sephiroth? No, while that might be ancillary data to pursue, I want to know more about what makes you—

[He presses a hand to the glass, leaning in, grinning wide.]

—tick. All the parts you’re made up of, from the inside out. I wonder what stories your cellular structure has to tell. How your organs are all strung together. How they might react to mako, and then some.

But I take it by your attitude, your cooperation won’t be easily won. There are ways of getting around that, too.

[ Luka holds his gaze stead, glaring daggers at the man on the other side of the glass, in spite of his heartbeat thundering in his ears at a rapid, terrified pace. This man wants to take him apart, piece by piece, and Luka is powerless to stop him. ]

Fuck off.

[ That's all he says, bitten out and full of venom before he turns away. He does not turn back around, instead keeping his hands balled at his sides and his gaze on some random point on the floor.

He's done talking. It didn't do him any good, anyway. ]

Oh, well. That’s a shame. Things are always so much easier with a willing subject.

[But already, it seems like Hojo’s interest in Luka’s presence is fading, as if his mind is filtering through the possibilities of how to proceed, rather than how to deal with the subject's current emotional state. He doesn’t care much for the latter, not when it’ll be made sedate and malleable soon enough.]

But you wouldn’t be the first to make things difficult for me. Thankfully, I am a man of science, and a scientist finds ways to adapt.

[He grins again, arms spread in a “what can you do?” gesture, before turning to head out. A few words before he goes-]

Even so. Try not to resist. You’ll save everyone the trouble.

[And he leaves Luka on his own.

But it’s seconds later before three men arrive, dressed in 3rd class SOLDIER fatigues. With a beep of an authorization code, they enter Luka’s containment cell and are upon him in less than half a second. No matter how the man struggles, the strength of three SOLDIER units is hard to overcome, and it won’t take long before they pin him down.

An anxious researcher comes in with a oversized syringe in one hand. Keep him down! he exclaims, all nerves, and eventually a needle is pressed into Luka’s neck.

All will go black after that.

Time passes in a blur.

And when Luka does awaken — in whatever capacity that might be — an alarm blares harshly through the halls of the science department. Warning lights flash in Hojo’s labs, glinting off the glass of his containment unit. (A different one than before. Larger, but just as sterile.) A handful of scientists in white coats dart out towards the exit, but their voices are muffled. It’s hard to tell what’s happening.]

[ The second three men swarm into his cell, faster and stronger than him by a wide margin, Luka has to wonder if he did something wrong. Should he have indulged that creepy bastard and tried to answer his questions?

Some part of him realizes it was always going to end like this, but that thought is of little solace, even as he manages to pull together enough aether (it's different in this world, and trying to shape it makes his stomach roll) to jab an icicle through one of his assailant's shoulders. In the end, however, he is outclassed and out-manned, and the sharp sting of a needle is the last thing he feels before he goes under.

Much like when he first crash-landed in this world, everything after that is a blur. Who knows how long he's down, who knows how long it takes him to stir, but in the couple of times he drifts to consciousness, he's aware enough to know that he feels awful, and then he's dragged back under just as quickly.

He feels no less awful when his eyes crack open this latest time, and flashing lights and blaring alarms do little to help. He has half a mind to cover his ears, but his body feels like its full of sand. Gods, he wants to throw up.

It takes him a good while of feeling miserable to even remember where he is or why. Fuck. Fuck. What did they do him? ]

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Page 8 of 9

PSL; [NOLI MANERE]

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welcome to midgar.

thanks i hate it

i'm rping hojo, this is suffering on both sides

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