OPEN POST; [ SEPHIROTH / FFVII ]

[supersoldier]

those chosen by the planet.

(( despite the ominous choice of music i default to a pre-nibelheim canon point, but can play post-nibelheim upon request! ))

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[asimetrica]

[his words—i could probably handle a stronger dose—give her pause, and her eyes harden as she looks at his face, at how unmeasurably jaded he has grown to these procedures that have been an intrusive part of his life for as long as he can remember. it is to be expected, that a human specimen would still have emotion and a will of its own, regardless of how much this kind of life has drained from sephiroth in that department.]

Don't utter such words, pumpkin.

[she chastises, quietly, pulling back and arranging the sleeve to remain neatly unrolled over his arm. she does not use the term of endearment often, not since he's grown older, anyway.]

[it's enough for her to pick up the clipboard again and step back towards the kitchenette, figuring she might as well get them some tea. she notices a dead succulent in its small pot in the sink, and wonders how many times sephiroth has endeavored in trying to keep a plant, either as a gift from someone or out of his own volition, to no real success.]

[ignoring it—she fills up the kettle, and places it over the stovetop, letting the electric burner come to life.]

They were under Doctor Hollander's supervision, yes. [and yet...] You're... different. Special. [she reaches for some cups and sets them down on the counter, turning to face sephiroth.] And yet human, prone to something going amiss. I could not bear for things to be rushed, chasing for a result, born out of stubbornness and someone else's pride, and for you to suffer for it.

—so, I do not want you to be saying that you could handle a stronger dose, not even as a joke. I know consent isn't something that you've been allowed, but to say such a thing is as good as signing a contract.

[her worries, as his mother, come in waves that crash and beat against the scientific, logical droll that has always spurred her to inquire more.]

How do you feel, anyway? About Genesis and Angeal. [softer, no longer the sharpness in her voice present.] You were friends.

[supersoldier]

[Her instructions are a clear result of that motherly concern, the want to avoid Shinra’s testing going too far, wracking his body into something ultimately useless. And he understands it, in the limited way a son can—he thinks if their roles were reversed, he would feel the same—and yet it does not stop the way her imploring rakes against his pride. Sephiroth possesses that, too; a trait, perhaps, that runs in the family.

But as the kettle warms, the stove humming with newfound energy, he finds he cannot bring himself to argue the point.]

…Yes, Mother.

[For what need was there for a stronger formula, more rigorous testing, when already none could match him? He has no doubt that the Professor himself wants to test his limits, to see how far above and beyond he can bound above what’s possible for a man (and if he were to be truly honest with himself, he does wonder it at times, too), but that would be a goal born of hubris more than necessity.

What’s the point of a weapon that can already kill quickly, efficiently, and making it even more so? An argument could be made for fear and intimidation purposes, but he’s seen how enemy forces look at him from across the battlefield — he has that in droves already. However, he cannot make a promise to her that he cannot keep, and the addendum comes swiftly.]

But you know that it’s inevitable. The results speak for themselves.

[The numbers never lie: his vitals are good, better than ever. His performance matches. The science will want to push harder, as it always does.

That said, the question about Genesis and Angeal causes him to cast his look away from her, brings something a bit cooler into his demeanor. It’s easy to fall into such a habit when he’s displeased, or uncertain, or finds it difficult to articulate himself. Distance in all things.]

We’re not friends any longer. [One is gone, one is a traitor.] Those bonds were tested, and they broke. It’s likely better that way.

[asimetrica]

[didn't they already achieve what they initially sought out to prove? what would happen to a living organism if jenova cells were infused, a part of the alien that crashed into the planet thousands of years ago? it's almost disorienting how their research used to have a clear focus before, but now seems to spiral into flights of hyperbole and fantastic scenarios that aren't quite based on scientific foundations.]

[who is she for hojo to listen to her, anymore? —if ever?]

[her opinion on the subject has changed, obviously, ever since she became a mother. is it safe in shinra anymore? is sephiroth safe? is he safe to others? they are soaring too close to the flame that will inevitably burn them.]

[the water warms in the kettle, and she sets down the tea bags, watching carefully as sephiroth reacts—his constant distancing, not from her, but from the topic at hand. all too primed to want to ignore and remove any ounce of sentimentality and weakness from himself. a SOLDIER, through and through, no doubt.]

[sephiroth never really got the chance to make friends, so when these two boys came into the department to join him in the program, it was his first time being around someone his age. lucrecia remembers a similar young girl, the ancient, in another floor altogether, and had no envy for the life she, too, had been robbed of. she was secretly happy that ifalna had escaped with aerith, and wondered so often, if she, too, could have the courage to do the same with her son. what kind of life would that have been, anyway—?]

[the kettle sings, drawing her out of her thoughts, and she pours the water, and she sets the cups down on the coffee table, and she sits by her son, again.]

But you were friends. [and that's important; worth remembering.] You may be the perfect soldier in every way, but you are not immune to pain. [gently, as she tries to meet his eyes.] Did you not consider leaving with them? Not even once?