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)
finalflight2020-06-28 03:13 pm
supersoldier) wrote in finalflight2020-06-28 03:13 pm
[The tone of his texts have been relatively non-committal and non-combative, he thinks; this is either a distinct failure on his part to parse tone at all (possible) or a misinterpretation of his attitude (not impossible, given what little he gives others to work with).
The ‘...’s return, exclusively on his side this time. Typing, typing...]
The first depends on the situation. The second, less so. I’ll rescue you if you ask.
Is that what you want?
The ‘...’s return, exclusively on his side this time. Typing, typing...]
The first depends on the situation. The second, less so. I’ll rescue you if you ask.
Is that what you want?
Hmm
[ ... honestly, she should give him a bit of a break. especially when the time it took for his last response is pretty jarring.
he's usually so prompt. military manners means his responses are usually boilerplate politeness as it is, tempered in steel and quickened silver. honestly, she should be touched that he's still going through some form of effort, just for her.
but she does have a month's worth of ribbing to catch up on, so. ]
What sort of situation is that?
For the first one.
[ ... honestly, she should give him a bit of a break. especially when the time it took for his last response is pretty jarring.
he's usually so prompt. military manners means his responses are usually boilerplate politeness as it is, tempered in steel and quickened silver. honestly, she should be touched that he's still going through some form of effort, just for her.
but she does have a month's worth of ribbing to catch up on, so. ]
What sort of situation is that?
For the first one.
[F in chat for Sephiroth
At least he has years’ worth of knowing Aerith, being around her (even if their once-similar paths have been split, diverging in far-flung directions) long enough to see this tease for what it is.]
That’s what I’m trying to find out.
Is some poor infantryman missing their phone? Have they gone looking for the thief? That’s worth a mild scolding.
[If she’s not going to say, he’s going to lob scenarios into the wind and see what sticks.]
At least he has years’ worth of knowing Aerith, being around her (even if their once-similar paths have been split, diverging in far-flung directions) long enough to see this tease for what it is.]
That’s what I’m trying to find out.
Is some poor infantryman missing their phone? Have they gone looking for the thief? That’s worth a mild scolding.
[If she’s not going to say, he’s going to lob scenarios into the wind and see what sticks.]
[He... what. Sephiroth's brain needs a moment to process this.
Typing, typing, again...]
So you can dig your feet in and become more defiant simply because you can? I know where this leads.
Typing, typing, again...]
So you can dig your feet in and become more defiant simply because you can? I know where this leads.
[There was no guarantee that she would have been hurt at all; a fall from that height could have meant anything, from a bruise splattering across a shoulder, to something altogether dislocated. And Aerith might not need saving — she was never the type — there is a part of Sephiroth that cannot merely sit by and watch it unfurl as a spectator. For all her resoluteness, the way she might dictate that a bed of flowers sprout beneath her body and break her fall for her, what kind of old friend would he be to allow that? He has not grown that cold, not that distant. He has not had the humanity wrung out of him, though perhaps Shinra would like for that to happen someday, too.
For now, however, he braces himself against her, becomes the pillar that keeps her upright. She’s warm, some useless part of his combat-infused brain informs him, and her hair smells like morning blossoms and loam. It’s silly to be surprised by a proximity that he had swept in to provide, but he finds himself hyperaware of the places where her body presses into his own — the exact color of her eyes as she lifts her gaze to level on his. It hooks into his throat and drags all the way down into his chest, knotting there like something foreign, and he wonders if this has happened before, a thing forgotten, but no, he’s reasonably sure he would have remembered something so jarring.
Maybe he really has been away for too long. To be surprised by Aerith’s existence, it seems, thoughts jarred sideways by a simple declaration of, Thank you, my hero!
She straightens, but when Sephiroth believes himself to be free of her closeness, she leans in, and he finds himself tilting his chin up at an angle, as though to keep his head above some imaginary water line, else air might not make it to his lungs. Ridiculous, really.]
Race? You just fell off. If you can’t hold steady standing still, how well do you think you’ll fare darting around a race track?
For now, however, he braces himself against her, becomes the pillar that keeps her upright. She’s warm, some useless part of his combat-infused brain informs him, and her hair smells like morning blossoms and loam. It’s silly to be surprised by a proximity that he had swept in to provide, but he finds himself hyperaware of the places where her body presses into his own — the exact color of her eyes as she lifts her gaze to level on his. It hooks into his throat and drags all the way down into his chest, knotting there like something foreign, and he wonders if this has happened before, a thing forgotten, but no, he’s reasonably sure he would have remembered something so jarring.
Maybe he really has been away for too long. To be surprised by Aerith’s existence, it seems, thoughts jarred sideways by a simple declaration of, Thank you, my hero!
She straightens, but when Sephiroth believes himself to be free of her closeness, she leans in, and he finds himself tilting his chin up at an angle, as though to keep his head above some imaginary water line, else air might not make it to his lungs. Ridiculous, really.]
Race? You just fell off. If you can’t hold steady standing still, how well do you think you’ll fare darting around a race track?
Is that so?
You’re being very ill-behaved Aerith. I’m disappointed. Explain why you’re hiding, and return that phone.
Is that better?
You’re being very ill-behaved Aerith. I’m disappointed. Explain why you’re hiding, and return that phone.
Is that better?
[How does she drag him into these conversations?]
Would you prefer if I used exclamation points?
Would you prefer if I used exclamation points?
Why would you want me to yell at you in person? There's no need.
[Since when have the claws of anger ever really hooked into Sephiroth? Even he can't quite remember; a machine, indeed, in those days.]
You're being especially baffling today. Tell me what you're up to.
[Since when have the claws of anger ever really hooked into Sephiroth? Even he can't quite remember; a machine, indeed, in those days.]
You're being especially baffling today. Tell me what you're up to.
Hmm... well, it's a side of you that I've never seen before.
And if it exists, I want to see it. I guess?
[ honestly. because to be honest, she's the one who's usually angry, and the fact that sephiroth is not... baffles her. ]
Anyway, I'm behaving myself! Kind of. I contemplated making a run for it today while they're deep cleaning the labs, but I decided not to do it.
[ ... which probably opens up a whole book of new questions, but if there's one thing that hasn't changed, it's her odd way of secrecy sometimes. at least, for anything that sephiroth doesn't already know. ]
And if it exists, I want to see it. I guess?
[ honestly. because to be honest, she's the one who's usually angry, and the fact that sephiroth is not... baffles her. ]
Anyway, I'm behaving myself! Kind of. I contemplated making a run for it today while they're deep cleaning the labs, but I decided not to do it.
[ ... which probably opens up a whole book of new questions, but if there's one thing that hasn't changed, it's her odd way of secrecy sometimes. at least, for anything that sephiroth doesn't already know. ]
[Perhaps the issue is that he’s not given to strong emotion, at least not on a surface level. Furor is not something he shows; joy is not displayed on his face for any to see. Sephiroth is a bit like still water — perhaps something deep exists beneath the surface, lurking nebulously, but who would be so reckless as to dive in, unknowing?
Still, Aerith always sends ripples across the surface, and maybe it’s odder still that he allows it.]
I don’t think I’ve ever been that angry with you. Whether or not it exists is debatable.
Are you sure that’s something you should be admitting to on an infantryman’s phone?
[Was that a joke, or...? Aerith...]
Still, Aerith always sends ripples across the surface, and maybe it’s odder still that he allows it.]
I don’t think I’ve ever been that angry with you. Whether or not it exists is debatable.
Are you sure that’s something you should be admitting to on an infantryman’s phone?
[Was that a joke, or...? Aerith...]
Ouch...!
[ but that doesn't exactly sound very pained, what, when she's grinning like she sometimes does when she's just been caught in a blatant lie.
the only difference, maybe, is that her eyes are still wide, looking at the upturn of sephiroth's chin with a curious sort of air, watching him look down his nose at her and thinking it doesn't really translate into arrogance in the way that she expects. she thinks she knows him, after all: by voice, by shape, the slant of his shoulders, and the set of his feet. but she's got change on the brain it seems, because maybe his posturing's all wrong, and the way he seems to tilt away from her however slightly is a far cry from when he was smaller, when she could still reach over to ruffle his hair and he would tolerate it, however sulkily.
there's a small part of her that almost wants to try it now ‐- just to see if that much has stayed the same.
( or maybe she just wants to pull his head down so she can look into his eyes properly, make sense of the changes between them, because whatever it is about them -- his height, the way her body hums with tension at the points where he's touched her, how she's hesitant to touch him now, where she's never been before -- it makes her feel like she's still falling, like she's trying to brace herself for impact, and she's not sure if it thrills her or makes her feel afraid. ) ]
There goes that morale boost... but I guess underestimating me only works to my advantage.
But, you're the expert.
[ she can get onto a chocobo. that isn't the problem at all.
still, it doesn't stop her little smile or the way she's holding her arms up at the ready, tilting her head at him, expectant. ]
Well?
[ but that doesn't exactly sound very pained, what, when she's grinning like she sometimes does when she's just been caught in a blatant lie.
the only difference, maybe, is that her eyes are still wide, looking at the upturn of sephiroth's chin with a curious sort of air, watching him look down his nose at her and thinking it doesn't really translate into arrogance in the way that she expects. she thinks she knows him, after all: by voice, by shape, the slant of his shoulders, and the set of his feet. but she's got change on the brain it seems, because maybe his posturing's all wrong, and the way he seems to tilt away from her however slightly is a far cry from when he was smaller, when she could still reach over to ruffle his hair and he would tolerate it, however sulkily.
there's a small part of her that almost wants to try it now ‐- just to see if that much has stayed the same.
( or maybe she just wants to pull his head down so she can look into his eyes properly, make sense of the changes between them, because whatever it is about them -- his height, the way her body hums with tension at the points where he's touched her, how she's hesitant to touch him now, where she's never been before -- it makes her feel like she's still falling, like she's trying to brace herself for impact, and she's not sure if it thrills her or makes her feel afraid. ) ]
There goes that morale boost... but I guess underestimating me only works to my advantage.
But, you're the expert.
[ she can get onto a chocobo. that isn't the problem at all.
still, it doesn't stop her little smile or the way she's holding her arms up at the ready, tilting her head at him, expectant. ]
Well?
"That" angry?? Doesn't that mean you've ever been? Where was I??
[ hold on, fascination momentarily derailed by the fact that she's... relocating.
just in case she's really done something super dumb.
not that she'll ever admit to it. ]
If this thing's bugged, I feel like you smoked me out the moment you used my name.
You could've played along, you know.
[ hold on, fascination momentarily derailed by the fact that she's... relocating.
just in case she's really done something super dumb.
not that she'll ever admit to it. ]
If this thing's bugged, I feel like you smoked me out the moment you used my name.
You could've played along, you know.
[ she's in the garden again.
and she doesn't, after all, call him very often with the express purpose of pulling him away from whatever he's doing, right now, immediately. he's a man of appointments, military engagements, missions and stuffy airs. she's just the flower girl. some lab rat, captive princess (or so reno cheekily calls her to her face one day, to his sheer and utter buffonery -- which she'd responded to by tugging on his ponytail hard enough to make him shriek a little in passing, right in front of tseng and the young heir of the shinra empire whose easy name she can't be bothered to remember) whose only freedoms lie in this greenhouse, and the most recent addition of the infirmary.
if asked, maybe she'd say that she likes it. it's different, anyway, from being locked up in a room all day, dreading the next visitor she might get that tells her any sort of bad news from the list of worst case scenarios that she's keeping track of in her head. maybe in the next board meeting, they'll give hojo the okay to drown her in mako; maybe they'll take a scalpel to her skin, and cut up pieces of her to examine under a microscope.
just like her mother -- whose pictures are blown up in technicolor in hojo's office, plastered like x-rays or trophies across the walls on both sides, which she expects he'd done only to get a rise out of her, to take out his sad frustration over the fact that he can't dissect her on an open table in the only way he can.
the infirmary is a good distraction. they watch her and her uncanny knack with materia, stitching up infantryman and soldiers alike when the nurses are overwhelmed by the workload. more often than not, she watches out for him, not sure if she's relieved or disappointed when he never seems to show.
but she's in the garden, and they're surrounded by her lilies now, and at least he's here, looking as sturdy as ever. ]
You seem happy.
[ it lilts a little subdued, even if the smile on her face is warm.
maybe she's still tired, feeding all of her energy into the soldier that wound up in the infirmary earlier in the afternoon, his red hair cropped chin length, and his on-off blink of cat eyes in the dimmed light, a gash in his shoulder that she feels she should somehow inexplicably recognize even if all she'd ever seen was - ]
I think?
[ she's still not that great at being not obvious -- because she's scanning him from head to toe in a way that could only mean she's checking for injuries -- even if, somehow, she's definitely avoiding his eyes. ]
Did you win a fight recently?
and she doesn't, after all, call him very often with the express purpose of pulling him away from whatever he's doing, right now, immediately. he's a man of appointments, military engagements, missions and stuffy airs. she's just the flower girl. some lab rat, captive princess (or so reno cheekily calls her to her face one day, to his sheer and utter buffonery -- which she'd responded to by tugging on his ponytail hard enough to make him shriek a little in passing, right in front of tseng and the young heir of the shinra empire whose easy name she can't be bothered to remember) whose only freedoms lie in this greenhouse, and the most recent addition of the infirmary.
if asked, maybe she'd say that she likes it. it's different, anyway, from being locked up in a room all day, dreading the next visitor she might get that tells her any sort of bad news from the list of worst case scenarios that she's keeping track of in her head. maybe in the next board meeting, they'll give hojo the okay to drown her in mako; maybe they'll take a scalpel to her skin, and cut up pieces of her to examine under a microscope.
just like her mother -- whose pictures are blown up in technicolor in hojo's office, plastered like x-rays or trophies across the walls on both sides, which she expects he'd done only to get a rise out of her, to take out his sad frustration over the fact that he can't dissect her on an open table in the only way he can.
the infirmary is a good distraction. they watch her and her uncanny knack with materia, stitching up infantryman and soldiers alike when the nurses are overwhelmed by the workload. more often than not, she watches out for him, not sure if she's relieved or disappointed when he never seems to show.
but she's in the garden, and they're surrounded by her lilies now, and at least he's here, looking as sturdy as ever. ]
You seem happy.
[ it lilts a little subdued, even if the smile on her face is warm.
maybe she's still tired, feeding all of her energy into the soldier that wound up in the infirmary earlier in the afternoon, his red hair cropped chin length, and his on-off blink of cat eyes in the dimmed light, a gash in his shoulder that she feels she should somehow inexplicably recognize even if all she'd ever seen was - ]
I think?
[ she's still not that great at being not obvious -- because she's scanning him from head to toe in a way that could only mean she's checking for injuries -- even if, somehow, she's definitely avoiding his eyes. ]
Did you win a fight recently?
[First question: ignored.
Last statement veiled as a request: tended to, now that it’s clearer.]
Why didn’t you run, then?
Last statement veiled as a request: tended to, now that it’s clearer.]
Why didn’t you run, then?
I’m asking because I thought I was supposed to be playing along.
Or indulge you in old childhood fantasies, which might be one and the same.
Or indulge you in old childhood fantasies, which might be one and the same.
Really.
[ tfw sephiroth is the better actor... too much trust, not enough fear, but more importantly - ]
Too old for hide and seek, but not old enough to outgrow the name-calling.
If you're going to call me a child, you could at least say it to my face.
[ tfw sephiroth is the better actor... too much trust, not enough fear, but more importantly - ]
Too old for hide and seek, but not old enough to outgrow the name-calling.
If you're going to call me a child, you could at least say it to my face.
[He needs a moment to step away and detach, a habit that he’s fallen into because it works to give him room to breathe and think. To consider why he feels like that world has gone off-kilter by a single degree, not enough to be worrisome, but certainly noticeable in a world that should be clean-cut, right angles, and military-procedure. But Aerith has always been the antithesis of him, a magnetizing presence that would be sure to fill in the space he tried to pry between them; even as children, she had stuck close when they were allowed time together, sometimes clinging to his arm. Those years were so straightforward, the kind of simplicity that didn’t allow for the second-guessing of gestures, nor the growing measure of time to slip changes through the cracks.
Still, he’s figuratively shot himself in the foot. Declaring her need to be more careful in his own way, while simultaneously wanting to reorient himself, make for conflicting desires. After all, now she’s looking at him with easy expectance, arms outstretched, and how can he possibly step away now?
And just as in those early years, for reasons that have grown and become more complicated in the same way he has, Sephiroth finds he cannot.]
…Here.
[He directs her attention back to the chocobo, turning to face it, with one hand offered as an anchor to hoist her up and over if she decides to make a second attempt. With Sephiroth’s proximity, she’s guaranteed to stay upright; he’ll not let her topple over, and instead give her a chance to feel steady atop that overlarge bird.
In the interim—]
Have you thought about what you want the environment to be?
[The VR in “VR Training Room” is not just for show, after all.]
Still, he’s figuratively shot himself in the foot. Declaring her need to be more careful in his own way, while simultaneously wanting to reorient himself, make for conflicting desires. After all, now she’s looking at him with easy expectance, arms outstretched, and how can he possibly step away now?
And just as in those early years, for reasons that have grown and become more complicated in the same way he has, Sephiroth finds he cannot.]
…Here.
[He directs her attention back to the chocobo, turning to face it, with one hand offered as an anchor to hoist her up and over if she decides to make a second attempt. With Sephiroth’s proximity, she’s guaranteed to stay upright; he’ll not let her topple over, and instead give her a chance to feel steady atop that overlarge bird.
In the interim—]
Have you thought about what you want the environment to be?
[The VR in “VR Training Room” is not just for show, after all.]
I'm joking.
[Even miracles can happen.]
If you want, I'll make sure to call you childish the moment I see you again. Just remember that you requested it yourself.
[Even miracles can happen.]
If you want, I'll make sure to call you childish the moment I see you again. Just remember that you requested it yourself.
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