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)
finalflight2019-06-26 03:23 pm
supersoldier) wrote in finalflight2019-06-26 03:23 pm
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?]
tfln continued!
[ Luka can't help but stare at those messages for a very long while. Perhaps he had a little too much to drink tonight, and feelings he keeps carefully buried are rising to the surface. He doesn't generally broadcast his insecurities, but here's Sephiroth, giving him an earnest reply when he really should be telling Luka to sleep it off.
He appreciates that probably more than he can say right now. ]
youre right. of course youre right.
when my ma died, i took it real hard. i hated everyone and everything like the whole world was responsible for taking her away. i got into fights everywhere i went, pushed my own family away. if you could see me the way i was back then, its like i was a different person.
when i met sensei that was the first time in a long time i felt like i had a sense of direction. he gave me purpose. now hes gone too and sometimes its easy to fall back on old habits and act like all i am is a screw up.
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And finally, a reply.]
I know how frightening it is to lose your purpose. I’ve considered severing mine, too, back home. [Luka is only the second person he’s admitted this to, but for the sake of this conversation, it feels necessary.] But there’s a reason why I cling to what I know — for now, at least. Because it’s easy. It’s familiar.
But you’re stronger than that, Luka. You aren’t a screw-up. You’ve embarked on this quest to right the wrongs done against you because you feel that loss poignantly. Be honest with yourself: beyond the occasional slip-up, will you discard all you’ve been taught just because your teacher is dead? Would you want to?
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you think im strong?
[ No one's ever said that to him before, and now that he's seen Sephiroth's full strength brought to bear, it feels like an impossible compliment. ]
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[It's true, Luka's strength might seem middling compared to his. But Sephiroth has always been the great exception to every rule, something he both takes pride in keeps him so detached from everyone else.
But being on a different level allows him a different perspective. He knows raw talent when he sees it. He can always spot when a 3rd Class SOLDIER will make it to 2nd, and even 1st. There is more to strength than physical prowess, there is more to skill than dexterity. It is also a matter of willpower and that ineffable something that makes a warrior great on the battlefield, sparking in the heat of conflict.
He's seen that from him, too.]
But you do not need me to reaffirm something that you should already know for yourself. Nothing dulls a blade faster than self-doubt. Keep it at bay.
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[ Sensei would probably smack him upside the head for getting down like this, and Luka's used to that kind of tough love. There's a little bit of it in Sephiroth, too, but there's... something else, too. An understanding, familiarity born of their friendship, and it is that which resonates with Luka the most.
He scrubs at his watery eyes with the back of his hand, glad that at least Sephiroth can't see him crying. ]
hey, are you seriously thinking about leaving shinra?
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Yes.
[Only natural that Luka would ask after that. Sephiroth has given the impression of nothing more than the stoic and loyal SOLDIER, hasn't he.]
The last mission I was on, the one that interrupted by my arrival here... I intended it to be my last with Shinra. After that, I would move on.
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how come?
[ It's true that Sephiroth has given the impression of loyalty, so he's curious about what could sway him. ]
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We’ll see. For now, I have to return to Gaia before worrying about that.
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well, for what its worth i think you should do whatevers best for you. if you dont wanna stay, im confident you can figure it out.
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[ says the guy who was just having a crisis of faith ]
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