[He’s earned himself a traveling companion in this last month, something he never thought he’d have to entertain in his lifetime. Sephiroth is used to missions, to partnering up with fellow SOLDIERs, to do what is required of him only to detach himself from their company the moment he’s met with success. But this is different — his time with Luka is an unknown that has no definable end, not until they can find out just how to send him back to Gaia, traveling these foreign lands in search of a mage who might can put them on the right path.
It’s odd, being around someone this long, this constantly. Sephiroth is a solitary animal — he was born and raised that way, placed on a pedestal by the company, and expected to stand there alone and adulated. Not since his training in his younger years has he spent so much casual time around another, and even in those days he would retire to his solitary chambers back at headquarters, to fall asleep to the faint hum of fluorescent lights and encased by impersonal, steel walls.
It’s tiring — Luka is tiring, if not to his body, then to his mind, the latter more suited to introversion than brash behavior, or loud declarations, or the fount of energy that rolls off of him in waves. Yet he finds that it is endurable, and then later he finds it is manageable, and now— Well, perhaps now he finds that it is preferable. (Genesis, Angeal, Zack; company he preferred, would have called friends, the few who pierced the veil past arms-length isolation, and drew closer than most. It isn’t dissimilar.)
Today’s day of traveling has come to its end. Setting up camp was easy enough, the fire blazing before them, casting an orange-glow across the planes of his features. The green of his eyes, also faintly alight in the shadow, fade as he trails his gaze downwards, reaching back to gather up his hair and slide it over his shoulders and in front of him.]
How far is the next town?
[Pinching the fingertips of his gloves and pulling them off, the reason why he asks is soon apparent. With bare hands, he runs them through silver strands so long that they pool at his hip where he sits. Catching against tangles, he frowns at the tugging sensation against his scalp.
How far is the next town? he’s asked, so he can know when he can get his appearance sorted without being assailed by constant outdoor travel.]
no subject
It’s odd, being around someone this long, this constantly. Sephiroth is a solitary animal — he was born and raised that way, placed on a pedestal by the company, and expected to stand there alone and adulated. Not since his training in his younger years has he spent so much casual time around another, and even in those days he would retire to his solitary chambers back at headquarters, to fall asleep to the faint hum of fluorescent lights and encased by impersonal, steel walls.
It’s tiring — Luka is tiring, if not to his body, then to his mind, the latter more suited to introversion than brash behavior, or loud declarations, or the fount of energy that rolls off of him in waves. Yet he finds that it is endurable, and then later he finds it is manageable, and now— Well, perhaps now he finds that it is preferable. (Genesis, Angeal, Zack; company he preferred, would have called friends, the few who pierced the veil past arms-length isolation, and drew closer than most. It isn’t dissimilar.)
Today’s day of traveling has come to its end. Setting up camp was easy enough, the fire blazing before them, casting an orange-glow across the planes of his features. The green of his eyes, also faintly alight in the shadow, fade as he trails his gaze downwards, reaching back to gather up his hair and slide it over his shoulders and in front of him.]
How far is the next town?
[Pinching the fingertips of his gloves and pulling them off, the reason why he asks is soon apparent. With bare hands, he runs them through silver strands so long that they pool at his hip where he sits. Catching against tangles, he frowns at the tugging sensation against his scalp.
How far is the next town? he’s asked, so he can know when he can get his appearance sorted without being assailed by constant outdoor travel.]