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)
finalflight2020-05-14 12:15 pm
supersoldier) wrote in finalflight2020-05-14 12:15 pm
supersoldier) wrote in finalflight2020-05-14 12:15 pm
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But now isn’t the time for that. There’s still so much to be done.
After all, even Sephiroth cannot foresee all the little knots in the tapestry. Perhaps he’s had a hand in creating them, these hitches in time and space, as if destiny had tried so hard to bind itself up again, it misplaced parts of itself, but they still surprise him in ways he finds novel. There are hitches in the path where travelers might be flung from their roads — creeping along time in one direction, oblivious — into a space that is undefinable, ineffable, terrifying, and beautiful. A place that has no origin, but is connected to life all the same.
He wakes up in such a place. Opens his eyes, and there he stands, with the great maw of the universe looming over them in such kaleidoscopic color that it seems close enough to brush his fingertips across the light. Long ago, perhaps, it would have inspired awe from the man, a time when he still possessed humanity enough to feel small in the universe. Now, it is just one more stop in a long process that culminates in the realization of his goals. Unexpected, yes, but to be dealt with, just as he deals with everything in his path.
Sephiroth lowers his gaze. At his feet, a man who he knows all too well, bound to him like the Planet is linked to the Lifestream. A part of him, churning in his veins, much in the same way.
His smile is a sliver of a crescent moon.]
Wake up, Cloud.
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[seeking him, haunting him, drawing ever nearer—]
[wake up, cloud.]
[there comes the command, cutting through the marshes of unknown in his mind, forcing bleary eyes to blink open slowly. he feels the hard ground against his side, his arms before him; he curls fingers into a fist to try and find himself again, thought barely forming as he presses hands to the ground and tries to sit up. nightmares with sephiroth have increased as of late, and it always leaves him feeling drained and definitely stuttering in his semblance of self-control.]
[casting a glance not to far away from his hands, he notices black boots—and his eyes follow upwards unto the physical form of his torment, of the man himself, sephiroth.]
[fear is clear in his expression—the widening of his eyes, the stricken lock of his jaw—and he's pushing away and up on his feet, hand at the hilt of the sword on his back; knees bent and back hunched, ready to defend if a strike were to come.]
[it's only when nothing of the sort happens that cloud looks around himself, allowing only his eyes to roam over their surroundings. he squints back towards sephiroth, a glare forming.]
What's this?
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Masamune is gripped in his left hand. It’s a part of him as much as the rest of his body, this blade at his side. It glints in the shining light of the universe twirling above them, time churning in waves. Stardust sliding across the void like foam pushed by the sea. Sephiroth only stands, not moving to attack.]
A mistake. An error in the flow. Even your beloved Planet can only unwind so much, and so quickly.
[Neither of them is supposed to be here, but who is he to deny the chance to speak with Cloud?]
We cannot linger, of course. But how long might we stay? Is this much like your dreams, I wonder?
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[the lack of vitriol has his back straightening as he slowly lowers his arm from equipping his sword at all (the buster sword, he makes note of). sephiroth's words offer no reprieve even if they enlighten some questions that may linger in his mind. an error in the flow, but what flow? his gaze is hard as he keeps staring over at sephiroth in nothing short of contempt.]
They aren't as colorful.
[he remarks, the watercolor aspect of stars and nebulae forming around them at a glacial pace.]
[and then he grimaces.]
Is any of this real? [finally, he drags one boot closer to the other, his stance relaxing a fraction, no longer defensive.] Are you real?
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[He breaks his quiet stance with a single step forward, and the whole world of color lurches in-time with his movement. The omnipresent nature of their cage of stars might be too pressurizing for many, too great to comprehend, but Sephiroth moves as easy as wading through shallow water. Perhaps he is more like this place than not. A presence more than a person.]
In your memories, in your mind. On the Planet. Or here.
[There is no part of him that should be denied, and any piece of him that lives on in Cloud is as legitimate as the rest. It would be so much easier if he accepted that but-- In time, he will.]
But if you're asking if this is a dream, then the answer is no. It's as I said, we're caught in the flow, and now we have no choice but to see where it takes us. [A gloved hand makes an open gesture at the young man.] I should like to see more of you. Maybe this place will be kind enough to show us pieces of your heart.
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Seems like you're keeping busy.
[cloud doesn't get it how sephiroth can be all these things, how he can claim to be all these things. there seems to be a chasm of solitude that stretches in this place, thus pulling them into a whirlwind of temporary peace. the masamune a part of sephiroth, its movement elegant despite its sharp edges, but despite it's presence there is no real threat that cloud can notice—that he thinks necessary to be wary of.]
[other than the man itself, that is.]
The flow? What flow?
[perhaps he can get something more than the cryptic answers the other seems to enjoy giving him. he pauses, barely two steps taken.] What do you care so much about me? I already told you that I have no intention on fighting fate with you.
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[The flow of time, the unraveling of one reality as it weaves into another. Changes, so that destiny can be defied, whether or not the other man wishes to help. Now they’re caught in the chaff, sling off from what is being newly wrought.]
But I told you once already, what binds us together — I know you haven’t forgotten the fire that devoured your town alive. The spark that started it all.
[His smile is faint, but it is always so cold and cruel. Even the bright green of his eyes shimmer with unbidden amusement.
The atmosphere of color shivers in reply to Sephiroth’s words. For a moment, the nebulae hanging over their heads seem to twist like fire alive.]
And that is only the beginning. There is so much more, and yet none of it exists just yet. You say do not wish to defy fate with me, and yet you’ve already taken the first steps in doing so, haven’t you?
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[cloud closes his eyes and breathes in, trying to center himself, but instead finds the taste of smoke filtering down his throat. eyes opening, they burn orange as the stars around them unravel and change into flames, burning the buildings cloud had seen his entire childhood.]
[he takes a step back, looking around him in bewilderment. it's just as he remembers it, back then.]
[a crack above him and he quickly jumps out of the way; a house's roof collapsing, the wooden frames losing all integrity to keep it upright. cloud coughs smoke in his lungs, turning a hateful expression back towards sephiroth, who stands like he belongs amongst all the flames—just like he had during the incident in nibelheim.]
There's a role you want me to play. [he keeps his voice steady, boots crunching against the soil at his feet.] If I defy it, I won't do it to help you. Why would I? After all you've done.
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It’s nice to know that this event will forever remain etched into Cloud’s memory. Sephiroth’s made his mark, indelible across the other man’s mind, and he will remain there forever. Real, as he said.]
Consider that our goals might align. Or that you’d have no choice in the matter, regardless of what you say.
[He steps forward, through the fire and flames and hungry heat.]
All you must do is play your role, and play it well. You have suffered so much, haven’t you? Failed so many people. And yet there you stand… fighting, defying. The pain makes you angry, but it makes you stronger. I have so much more to give you.
[He gestures at their surroundings, the faint sound of screams echoing in the distance.]
And this is the root of it all. You left such a lasting impression on me that day. I had been so angry at the time.
[But now, of course, he only looks amused, like recalling a fond memory.]
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[his home, his mom, tifa—]
[angry enough to go head to head against the super soldier, himself just an infantryman, a child for all it was worth. even if in his recollection he was more than this.]
[cloud shakes his head and takes another step forward, the same anger he had felt back then bubbling inside him, until he can only vocalize them.]
You killed my mother! [his hands are tight fists] You burned my home—and killed everyone in it! You hurt Tifa! [a stabbing pain jabs into his mind, the sensation of a stitch in the fabric of the world around them falling asunder for one brief moment. wasn't there someone else at the reactor? he winces in pain, but it leaves him soon enough.] And for what—?
[he never understood why sephiroth acted the way he did. every young boy admired him, wished to be like the great war hero. he was intimidating, but he wasn't evil. not like this.]
[another step forward, and the background around them shifts into the jagged rocks of mount nibel, eerily glowing in oranges from the burning town and greens from its soil.]
I killed you once, and I can do it again.
[big words—but it really all comes to show how little cloud does understand right now about... well, everything. even himself.]
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In a way, maybe it was.
Their surroundings shift. The town fish-eyes and warps, leaving them only on mountainous ground. Below them, the light of a village caught aflame; above, the tall, metallic lines of the Mt. Nibel reactor, cast against the sky like a stain on the horizon.]
I did it for Mother.
[All for her, spilling his own anger at those who betrayed her, that little town filled with little people who thought they could house her in a glass cage.]
Is that what you wish to do now? Attack me? I’d welcome it if you did.
[Masamune lifts, its point shining at Cloud.]
I always do.
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[there's that again, another word that he understands the meaning of, but just like the word reunion, cloud doesn't understand the context nor what befalls the word itself. he only watches as the masamune points towards him—like an open invitation rather than a threat. the way sephiroth speaks, like he's in control...]
[cloud bubbles with a sense of impotence.]
[moreso when the change in their surroundings and the appearance of the mt. nibel reactor looming over them, spreading over the horizon as it shifts in size, seeming to grow more and more, not just like a stain but like a threat, an emblem of catastrophe, of the point of no return. where everything changed.]
[and just as cloud is going to answer back masamune's beckoning with that of the sword at his back, a shockwave of pain pierces through his head; all his actions conflicted as the hand going for the hilt land instead on his head, eyes squeezing shut as he groans, knee hitting the ground. before the stairs of the reactor a scene unfolds, ghost-like figures of an infantryman, tifa and sephiroth; the infantryman defending tifa and falling unconscious—and another, a SOLDIER showing up, their facial features as if scratched out from a photograph. the voice distorted.]
[snapshots piercing right out of memory, or of his heart, as sephiroth had claimed.]
Hnn...
[the pain doesn't ease up, like a weight pulling him down.]
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sephiroth reel it in
don't know her
THIS IS THE OPPOSITE OF REEL IT IN
seph has no off button
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AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT........don't @ me
He hates the social expectations of conversation and amicability. It’s tiring to the core of someone who possesses an anti-social mind, and Sephiroth much prefers to observe a crowd than to be at the center of it. The atmosphere is too abuzz with life, too loud, and there are too many smiles around him that are obviously fake, conciliatory, and reeking of showmanship. He dislikes superficiality — the dance of corporate politics is less a dance and more a web of entrapment. One wrong step, and you’re caught, frozen, and scrutinized by all those surrounding.
Shinra parties, in particular, are the worst about it. Someone is always trying to climb the ladder to a promotion or forming quiet conspiracies against co-workers under the guise of a shared drink. An airy laugh. The decadence is absurd and obscene, illustrating how gilded it feels, but he finds himself expecting it. He’s been with this corporation long enough to know the level of self-importance put on by a man like Rufus Shinra.
He’s only here out of obligation. The star employee would be missed, and more importantly, talked about ceaselessly if he were not present. And so Sephiroth counts the hours, watching the face of a filigree-laden clock that likely cost more than his annual salary hung on a nearby wall, willing time to move faster. He moves from crowd to crowd like a ghost, exchanging the bare minimum of words, and even makes his way to the bar once so that others will stop telling him that he should get something to drink.
When he nears the counter, sliding into an empty space to get someone’s attention, a flash of bond hair catches in green eyes, and he pauses. The ambient noise of the crowd turns into a dull hum, and Sephiroth’s mouth twists into a frown. He knows this man, his back turned to him, barely perceiving his profile. He’d know it anywhere.]
Cloud?
[Is that really him? It can't be. (He shouldn't have come this way.)]
don't draw attention to it
[it's been in the works for a few weeks now, and cloud is, honestly? disenchanted with the whole idea.]
[when he had first met rufus, he had seemed like a complete douchebag who thought throwing his money around meant anything, but over time... well, cloud thinks it was just being vulnerable over the terrible breakup he had just gone through (no closure, no replies to his messages, nothing), that rufus shinra began to be a friend. and slowly, cloud fell for that young idealism and a vision for a better midgar—something not so cruel and not so much at the cost of the lives of many. but in the past few weeks, when rufus had inherited the throne, he had changed. similarly to his father, the power had gotten to his head.]
[and cloud just felt like he couldn't even get to rufus at all anymore.]
[not to mention that there were news of sephiroth having returned to work for the shinra company. tseng had mentioned it, and rufus finally fessed up a few hours before the party, as they were heading up on the elevator. it doesn't feel great, knowing that his ex(?) would likely be at the party, too, and — well, it's been five years, and he still gets a twist in his stomach when he thinks about sephiroth.]
[he's seeking reprieve at the bar, trying to have a polite conversation with someone who thinks that getting through the boyfriend will get her a chance at an interview with rufus. he wishes he were at tifa's bar instead. the woman's eyes divert from him though, at someone over his shoulder, so cloud takes that chance to finish the rest of his drink and ask for another. thinking none of this has to do with him, until his name cuts through, abruptly, so familiar, and his heart aches.]
[the blond turns back and he just... stares. the look on his face unfathomable, but there's definitely emotion stirring in his eyes, in the way his jaw tightens.]
...Sephiroth.
[the woman is frantic, squealing about getting to meet the great sephiroth! definitely not reading the room.]
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When he sees Cloud — the shape of his face, the color of those eyes stirring with emotion — he cannot help but think of an old smartphone, blinking up at him with each received message flashing notification after notification. All of them read but unreplied to, left hanging because he could not bring himself to know what he wanted. But he could see himself hurting Cloud as each day passed, and thinking it might be simpler, in a way, to just let the warmth that had grown between them slowly dissipate.
He had needed the time to himself. He had needed to think, to realigned the shattered pieces in all the wrong places; he could not bear the weight of someone else’s thoughts intermingling with his own. He just couldn’t, he had been— so useless, then.
But now, years later, the past is catching up to him, as it always does. It snaps back like a rubber band, flung right into his lap, and now Sephiroth must deal with consequences of actions he tries so hard not to think about, not any longer. Packed away in some small corner of his mind, in a neon-bright box he could never learn how to completely ignore.
He wills himself to say something. Anything. The woman’s adulation slips over him, around him, never registering.]
What are you… doing here?
[Why is Cloud here? Did he come looking for him after all this time…? His mind wraps itself into circles, trying to understand. He has no reason to be here, not any longer, he quit his job at the company years ago — and even if he didn’t, why would security be attending the festivities? He’s not in uniform; he’s dressed well. Very well. A bright spot in this party of needless decadence, looking at him with a dead expression but with a churning, unfathomable light in his eyes.]
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[he wants to be angry and to release all the years of festering hurt onto the man. he deserves as much, doesn't he? leaving him on read, ignoring him, leaving without warning, with nothing that would bring peace to the end of their relationship. even now he struggles with whether he had forgotten something important, if the reason sephiroth up and left one day was because of him.]
[but he never got an answer, not even to that question. he closes a fist close to his stomach, trying to center himself at the question and the answer that comes with it.]
[the woman keeps prattling on, like this is a conversation between three rather than with just the two of them, and cloud gives her a passing glance before releasing the curl of his fingers—breathing in. cloud could walk away from all this—probably should—and keep on with the present and the future at large, but a part of him is unable to let go of a past that he had cherished so much and was looking forward of existing in, for years and years to come. how naive. how gullible—]
[he turns to the bartender as he stands from the stool, announcing to hold his order, and without much of a glance at the woman, he walks up and beside sephiroth.]
Let's talk outside.
[while phrased as a request, the tight grip on sephiroth's wrist (he's really here) provides no room for rejection, as cloud starts to take brisk steps towards the floor's lobby area. away from people, away from prying eyes.]
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But then there’s a grip around his wrist, tight and real and solid, and Sephiroth’s heart fills with static.]
…Fine.
[It’s all he can manage, skewing his tone into something detached, trying to wring out everything else and utterly ignoring the woman who is still yammering on to Sephiroth about something he doesn’t care about. She at least has the sense not to follow after they depart, both of them weaving through the crowd with a surreality stolen straight from a dream. A daymare, maybe, depending on what Cloud has to say to him.
It’s a short walk to one of the side exits; tall glass doors that open with a gentle push, swinging wide and allowing them into the night air. Midgar’s sky had always been full of city smog, but a few stars defiantly push past the haze and stare at them from above. The sound of the highway echoes in the distance, cars blazing across it in the dark.
Sephiroth doesn’t know what to say. Cloud’s fingers are still tight around him, and his words are gone. Maybe he’s not supposed to speak first.]
I—
[He does, anyway, perhaps to his detriment.]
If I had known you were here, I wouldn’t have… [He trails off.] I wouldn’t want to make it unpleasant.
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[no, sephiroth shouldn't be allowed the benefit of speaking first—but that's always how he's been. hilariously detached, in some ways, from what was right, always following some clinical and "logical" order for things.]
I knew you'd be here.
[he says lightly, much more easier than what he had expected.]
Rufus said you were back on the payroll. A good omen for the start of his presidency.
[the attention was not, of course, on the returning star employee of shinra though. it was on rufus, the new president. he who stirs a merry conversation inside, with laughter and champagne that never ceases. cloud can see it from where he stands, the man dressed in white, like he's free of any sins inherited from his father.]
[crossing his arms, he looks up at sephiroth instead.]
Five years is a long time to be a ghost.
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His gaze seems to follow Cloud’s for a moment, falling onto the figure of the new President of Shinra, and all those within who celebrate this new age for the company and for Midgar itself. He supposes his own return is news that’ll make the rounds eventually — if it already hasn’t with his appearance here — but to have heard it beforehand? From the man himself?
Sephiroth reels in his question for now. Replies to the comment about five years, which strike him hard. He expected it.]
I know it is. [What is there to say? An apology isn’t enough. He isn’t sure it’s what Cloud wishes to hear after all this time, or if he’d be offended that Sephiroth had the gall to dilute those five years into something that could be fixed with a simple, “I’m sorry.”]
I didn’t expect you to wait for that long. And by the time I thought to contact you, it was already too late.
[Too much time had passed, irreparable by that point. Does it sound like he’s making excuses? That Sephiroth, the bright military mind with every contingency for every battle, was just acting as a coward?]
I didn’t think I would ever find you back here, in this building. Are you working for Shinra again?
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[it's a scoff, really, the way cloud spits it out.]
[sephiroth's decision to pull away didn't just individually affect him, but it also affected cloud. he must have known that he couldn't just walk away from it all and assume nothing would be the matter. because it matters, and it hurts still, and to hear no answers—just words that stall for an explanation—just makes it somehow worse.]
[he inhales and exhales sharply, biting down on his bottom lip and looking down at his shoes.]
[might as well answer the question poised earlier.]
I came here with Rufus. We're together.
[—but it's notfair. it's not as simple as 'we're together,' because it was years before he allowed himself to move on, years before he decided it was not worth holding on to someone who had taken his heart and ran away with it, left it stranded somewhere that it could never be recovered from.]
You left. You shut me out and left.
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He had left. He had made that decision for the both of them without any discussion or warning. And now, years later, seeing Cloud again and learning that he’s found himself with Rufus Shinra of all people—
He has no right to be upset, he knows that. Sephiroth said it himself, that he did not expect Cloud to wait years for him, for something that he killed with his own two hands. But he cannot help it; Sephiroth imagines Cloud on Rufus’ arm, Cloud spending time in Rufus’ penthouse apartment somewhere high above the Upper Plate, Cloud sharing Rufus’ bed, and an unwanted malaise gnaws through him like a disease.]
Him? [—is all he can say at first. All his mind will allow for now.] Why?
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Seriously?
[but that... anger pretty much disappears after giving it a few seconds to fester. he's so tired of this upset, of how he can't seem to let go, and how sephiroth being here after so long brought forth something like hope. for what, exactly? he doesn't know.]
[stepping forward towards the other, cloud manages a feeble attempt at a punch to the gut.]
Because he was here. Because you left and I lost so much in the process.
[he doesn't look so disgruntled as he looks sad.]
Why did you leave? Did I do something wrong?
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He isn’t good at this. He never was — emotions were always so hard to untangle for him, and so he kept them wound up inside, partitioned behind a cold demeanor and detached interest. Cloud had managed to sneak past those defenses, but perhaps he made Sephiroth’s emotional core all the more difficult to traverse, regardless of how welcome his presence was all those years ago.
Now, he finds it’s just as impossible to traverse as before. He’s had years to figure out what to say, but spent no time weaving the words together into something coherent.]
No. It had nothing to do with you, not in the way you’re thinking.
[Cloud’s offense was that he had been close, when his life felt like it had been upended, when everything was perceived as wrong and false. When he needed to detach himself from it all and just get away.]
I needed time after everything I had learned about my family was a lie. I felt like my whole world was false, everything I knew thrown into chaos. I couldn’t stay with Shinra. I couldn’t stay in this city.
[His eyes fix on Cloud’s face.]
Nothing I say will fix what’s already happened. ...Are you happy with him?
[With Rufus.]
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[omitting the truth is one thing, yes, but a lie? unlikely to happen.]
[cloud meets his eyes, a stubborn kind of defiance in his own, always present.]
No, it won't, but you didn't have to run away by yourself. I could have helped. I would have understood— [the question about his happiness cuts him short, and cloud takes his hand back. he looks back inside to the party, at how rufus looks so oblivious over the fact that cloud is not there to celebrate with him. so, with an easy shrug,] I like this dog.
[then back to sephiroth.]
What would you do if I was happy with him? Am I anything to you anymore?
[this family crisis that sephiroth is talking about, cloud wants to know more, but he needs to earn it, it feels.]
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deletes this thread
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you know what? shut up
[there was going to be a costume party, whether he liked it or not. and, honestly? he didn't mind it—it just meant people were going to be a little more rowdy than usual, and maybe even more prone to getting drunk—but the idea was entertained that cloud should dress up too, and he had no say in what he would wear.]
[resigned to his fate, he woke up early and drank an energy drink for breakfast, belatedly deciding to tell sephiroth about the party. was it kosher to let him know on the same day of the event? sephiroth didn't like such things, so surely he would appreciate not having to stress out about social standings with cloud's friends for days before it was to happen.]
[but the way cloud had hesitated, as he put the poster down in front of sephiroth as the man got ready for work, and the way he deflected any questions with vague answers and an avoidance of eye contact—even sephiroth could read that there was something perhaps worth seeing. i'll probably end up sleeping over at tifa's. it'll be a long one. don't stay up, basically—perhaps it would be worth seeing how busy the party actually is? all cloud knows is that the moment he arrives with some extra boxes of booze to put in the back, he's getting pushed around to 'get ready.']
[he should have said he was sick. came down with the flu, or something.]
[the party is a success, all things considered, and busy as one would expect. tifa managed to get some local band to play, ended up having to set up a place in front of the bar—let people mingle outside, on the stairs, let the crowd breathe easy rather than cramming everyone inside. cloud keeps a careful eye out, as he's still working security (or trying to, when he was given a moment), but he's doing it while standing in heels, in a dress that is form-fitting and ridiculously frilly, fishnet sleeves hugging at his arms and accentuating his biceps, yet somehow softening the sharp edges of his elbows and shoulders. there was so much he could do with a stony look, and tifa was making him walk around to help out with the orders at the bar.]
[so down the stairs he goes, with an order of drinks. easy enough, should not be a problem at all, were his ankles not feeling particularly wobbly because of the heels. not even bracing himself against the banister helps much, as he ultimately ends up tripping and fumbling to keep the glasses from falling off the tray—except they do, and the people around quiet (even the music stops) at the sound of broken glass. unfortunately, it only means that everyone's attention falls on cloud, who is looking pretty red in the face, perhaps complementing the pigtail extensions clipped to his hair.]
Shit.
[he manages to mutter, trying to pick himself up despite the ache on his leg from biffing it so spectacularly. his efforts don't go unnoticed, as someone tries to help him up, and cloud reluctantly takes the offered hand—someone in the crowd offering a cheer, as to dispel the silence from the embarrassing situation. it's only when cloud looks up, as he's helped to his feet, and music starts to stream again as do some of tifa's other helpers arriving to help clean up, that cloud meets the eyes of the person helping him—and it's the bright green eyes which surprise him.]
Sephiroth?
[a tentative step back, and cloud winces, holding tighter onto his boyfriend's arm, reassured by the contact now that he knows who it is.]
—spectacular timing, as usual.
[and so the mystery of whether sephiroth was going to show up or not is finally solved. cloud will not admit that he was curious to see if he would (expectant, almost?), and was hoping that he would—but not like this. blue eyes look away, embarrassed, as he tries to ascertain just in how much pain he is and whether he can stand on his own without resting his weight on the other.]