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
sephiroth reel it in
[he knows it's sephiroth who helps him up to his knees, forcefully and with no inch of kindness in his act. it's all to get cloud to see him again, to know he is there, and cloud's heart jumps to his throat in the overwhelming panic that he cannot do anything against him. the edges of his vision are fuzzy, but the voice in his ears is sharp and clear—too close. too close for comfort.]
[cloud's chest contracts unto itself as the blond tries to keep himself from dry coughing, to keep a straight back to show that he won't bend to sephiroth. his lungs burn, though, and his whole body feels too heavy, like he has no say in how it's moved.]
[and yet there's still an angry expression on cloud's face. defiant, even—but the words that come out of his mouth, they're a plea that ricocheted in his head, before, and never made it past his lips that one time when— when— someone — sephiroth? —
zack—helped him escape.][he grabs at the man's arm, his hold slippery.]
Don't— leave me... [a heave, a crack. his lungs are on fire. his grip tightens.] Don't.
don't know her
I won’t. I won’t ever leave you, not as connected as we are.
[He laughs, then. Laughs lowly and amused, his very bearing hunched over the one person his hatred pivots around, whose suffering makes his spirit feel bright, something he would despise losing in a future that threatened to exist without it.
Black feathers ensconce Cloud’s vision. A wing from Sephiroth’s back extends and bends around the both of them, a cocoon of black and oddly whisper soft. It blocks out the manor, the neon fluid spilled from Cloud’s containment unit, the humidity thick and cloying in the air. It’s like being wrapped in oblivion; nearly as peaceful, and almost as terrifying.]
Where do you want to go? Let’s see if I can take you there.
THIS IS THE OPPOSITE OF REEL IT IN
[it's... peaceful, yes, but just as terrifying, too.]
[cloud doesn't speak into the darkness, but his eyes meet sephiroth's—an eerie emerald that glows, disdainful but full of some kind of appreciation. it leaves cloud feeling all sorts of convoluted inside. cloud grabs at the arm, static filling his ears.]
[flowers, a church; there's water where the flowers grow, children jumping around him. a presence. a pink dress, an x-shaped scar. home.]
[aerith's church.]
[the smell of flowers pervades in the air amidst the darkness of oblivion. bright, sweet, welcoming, actually peaceful.]
seph has no off button
And then he stands, bootheels grinding into the flower bed, his great black wing fanning to free Cloud of its confines. Sunlight cascades down through a hole splintered into the roof to the church, wetly throwing his flight feathers into an inky, glossy shimmer. Each striation shines as he folds it back.
This is a place where he does not belong. He knows this, every speck of soil beneath his boots made hallowed through that woman’s memory. Sephiroth is just a blackhole void in a picture-perfect recollection. A gaping emptiness where light is disallowed.
And yet he feels the peaceful aura here, too, looking up through that break in the rooftop, watching as motes of dust float past, dancing and disappearing. His wing tucks closer to his body, a solid black mass against his frame.]
Does this place comfort you?
no subject
[this place does bring him comfort, in a way that he doesn't quite know how to measure.]
Yes.
[his back is to sephiroth, as he stares in awe, in wonderment. this is aerith's church, but it's not quite like the one he remembers. it's... older looking, somehow. like the environment outside it crumpled and added some extra tumbles and cracks. instinctively, his right hand moves to his left arm, grabbing there. his eyes move downwards to it in confusion.]
[he drops his hand and tightens it into a fist at his side.]
Those visions I saw— [of aerith, of sephiroth, of a pool of water] —are they real?
no subject
And so his eyes turn towards Cloud, away from the light, with a little more consideration than before.]
What do you think those visions represent?
[Answers his question with his own.]
no subject
[it dawns on him, like a slow realization, that he cannot escape.]
A future that hasn't happened yet.
[he puts these thoughts together, but he isn't sure how it works, or if he believes it himself.]
...or one that has, but not for me. [a pause, as he turns to face sephiroth properly.] For you?
no subject
Yes. For me.
[Masamune's blade whispers against sunlit yellow petals, walking forward two steps closer to Cloud.]
But do not forget what I told you.
[That which lies ahead does not yet exist.]
Those visions are but ghosts of your... failures that have not yet come to pass. Your inability to protect those you care about. That one, perhaps, the most egregious of all.
no subject
[of protecting — aerith?]
[a light breeze ruffles the flowers, making them sway gently to the side. the earth beneath their feet sinks slowly, fills with water, as the whole church pushes and groans under the weight of change; of perches and pillars succumbing to the different years, the different states of its being. but the water keeps filtering in, creating a pool, slowly swallowing up their boots in it.]
[cloud's eyes remains on sephiroth.]
So what do you want from me?
[change fate, he had said. together.]
no subject
He’s unmoving in the rush, the motion rippling all around him, teasing at the bottom of his length of hair. Sephiroth cants his head at Cloud, meeting his obstinance with more answers — though perhaps they are not satisfactory to him in this moment.
The old church groans and aches with time.]
I want you to work with me. To lend me your strength, as I told you once before.
[And as before, a gloved hand extends, palm-up. Fingers uncurling in Cloud’s direction, and the feathers of his single wing flares.]
Won’t you do that for your precious Planet? Our Planet? Or are you still too afraid?
no subject
[he is, but not to the extent sephiroth is giving him credit for. cloud worries that whatever he accedes to do will only be like signing a deal with the devil. there is not enough for him to come up with a decision that feels satisfactory to him, and it just feels like a ton of weight on his shoulders, suddenly.]
[the anxiety that keeps gnawing at him over unknowns.]
What's the catch?
[the water surrounding sephiroth grows murky, a darkness teeming from him and pulsing forward, reaching for cloud. the sky that can be seen from the hole on the roof of the church grows darker, like a storm is brewing.]