[ A quest for vengeance is a lonely thing, and Luka is learning – or perhaps he always knew and simply chose to forget – that he isn’t built for solitude. Keepers of the Moon like himself may not be half as social as their Seeker cousins but Luka can scarce remember a time when he was well and truly on his own. Even after the death of his mother, when Luka felt alone, he never truly was. His sisters were always there, trying to comfort him despite the grief that turned him inside-out and left him wild and mean.
And then he met Sensei, the older man stepping into Luka’s life to fill a void that had so desperately needed filling. There was scarcely a time when Luka was far from his side, always learning, always growing, always basking in the warm glow of the other’s kindness. Sensei’s death still scraped him raw, but he found determination in that grief. A drive. A quest. And, for the first time, true loneliness, until an unlikely traveling companion quite literally washed up on the beach.
He and Sephiroth are as different as night and day, the other man’s quiet intensity sitting at odds with Luka’s bright, devil-may-care sort of attitude. Somehow, they make it work. Somehow, teasing jabs become a mark of fondness, of a slowly burgeoning friendship, and more often than not, Luka is glad for Sephiroth’s presence, no-nonsense and taciturn as he may be.
The hills of Yanxia are vast. On one side of the wall carved into the cliff-face, farmers and simple folk learning to scrape their lives back together after the end of the Garlean occupation, on the other a sprawling river, its shores scarred with the marks of battle. Beasts and beastmen and the ruins of old magitek call this place home now. And for tonight, so does Luka and his traveling companion. ]
Hm. Still a couple days off, according to that farmer.
[ Luka’s eyes, previously fixed on the stars, flick over to his friend. (And what a funny thing, to consider the other man a friend.) His gaze follows the silvery waterfall that is Sephiroth’s hair, watches as his fingers catch on tangles, and he breathes out an amused sound. ]
You really ought to just tie it back so it stops getting like that, y’know?
no subject
And then he met Sensei, the older man stepping into Luka’s life to fill a void that had so desperately needed filling. There was scarcely a time when Luka was far from his side, always learning, always growing, always basking in the warm glow of the other’s kindness. Sensei’s death still scraped him raw, but he found determination in that grief. A drive. A quest. And, for the first time, true loneliness, until an unlikely traveling companion quite literally washed up on the beach.
He and Sephiroth are as different as night and day, the other man’s quiet intensity sitting at odds with Luka’s bright, devil-may-care sort of attitude. Somehow, they make it work. Somehow, teasing jabs become a mark of fondness, of a slowly burgeoning friendship, and more often than not, Luka is glad for Sephiroth’s presence, no-nonsense and taciturn as he may be.
The hills of Yanxia are vast. On one side of the wall carved into the cliff-face, farmers and simple folk learning to scrape their lives back together after the end of the Garlean occupation, on the other a sprawling river, its shores scarred with the marks of battle. Beasts and beastmen and the ruins of old magitek call this place home now. And for tonight, so does Luka and his traveling companion. ]
Hm. Still a couple days off, according to that farmer.
[ Luka’s eyes, previously fixed on the stars, flick over to his friend. (And what a funny thing, to consider the other man a friend.) His gaze follows the silvery waterfall that is Sephiroth’s hair, watches as his fingers catch on tangles, and he breathes out an amused sound. ]
You really ought to just tie it back so it stops getting like that, y’know?