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01/04/2023 04:25 PM
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Cracks - drabble
Cracks
The cold didn’t bother Sephiroth. It never had done. It was just another of those things that affected everyone else but him. The Nibelheim Mansion was always cold. Unused as it was, the heat had leeched from the building many years before, never to be replaced no matter how much it was used now. The basement was the coldest part of the building. The fire in the grate had not been lit for many years, and some of the shelves that lined the walls had begun to exude the faint stink of damp.
Not that the general was bothered by it. His mind was too busy running over what he had learned to notice. He had cleared the huge desk so he could work and pushed the chair under it. It was a fine desk, the grain of the wood milled perfectly smooth. The varnish gave it a reddish hue, and he walked his gloved fingers over the pattern, determined to feel the pattern where there was none.
He had told the others to leave him well alone. Shut the mansion doors and locked himself away down here to think. What he and Zack had seen in the reactor had shaken him. Those former people, twisted by the effect of Mako and Jenova cells, had reminded Sephiroth of something Genesis had said. What was it? He could remember it as though it had been said moments ago rather than weeks. At the time he had dismissed it as jealous anger, but now?
Was he ‘the perfect monster?’ No. Surely not. It was a mere coincidence that his mother and that thing shared the same name. Wasn’t it. He clenched a fist. Genesis and Angeal… The clench reached his chest and he sucked in a hard breath. He screwed his eyes shut and let out the air out from his lungs. He had to know more. That was why he was here wasn’t it? To learn?
Relaxing his hand, Sephiroth got to his feet and began to scan the shelves. There were files here from decades before, gathering dust and mildew. Those he left well alone. They were irrelevant anyway. He had rough dates to go on, and enough time…
In the end, he found what he had been looking for. Information. Books were strewn all over; he had not been neat in his quest for knowledge. Those that were relevant were on the desk, those that were not he left in discarded piles on the floor. It was hardly the organised system he usually adopted; there was no time for that.
The more he read, the less he understood. One question burned in his mind more than anything else. Why hadn’t he been told? Why hadn’t they bothered to tell him his heritage. He had always known he was different from the other kids. Friendships had always been awkward and hesitant; there was a part of him that had been intensely jealous of Zack’s easy camaraderie with the others. That level of relaxed interaction had always been beyond his reach.
Now he knew why. Genesis had been right. He was a monster. Who wanted to associate with a monster? They may not have known, but they sensed it. Angeal and Genesis. He had believed they were friends. Glancing down at the page he was reading; he was surprised to find droplets of water on it. He grieved for them still, despite everything. Brushing the tears from his lashes with the back of his hand, he frowned and focused on the words. They were safer, stable. Unlike his thoughts, they were immutable. They were truth. They told him that Jenova was a Cetra – an ancient.
Why hadn’t they told him though? He pressed his lips together, picked up the report and walked back and forth along the aisle as he read. What harm would it have done to tell him? Why the lies? What didn’t they want him to know? Was he so dangerous that him knowing who he was put them at risk?
As he read, another truth dawned upon him. The Ancients had settled, found an easier way of life and neglected their duties. They had left the planet open to vicious attack from a Calamity from the Skies. Their abilities had waned, the planet was left weak and vulnerable. As Jenova was his mother, that made him her son. The last survivor of that race so long ago weakened by humanity. Sephiroth shuddered and let the report fall from his hands.
Not one of them would understand. Not Zack, not Cloud, none of them. The one who might have done was in the ground. Nothing more than a bitter memory and a hollow space. How could they understand that their ancestors had betrayed their ideals and left him so alone? No, they were not to be trusted. They had to be punished. As the sole survivor, it was up to him to do so. He had to put it right. He clenched and unclenched his fists.
A strange cackling made him look up. He was alone still. He was laughing. That bitter noise was his laughter. There was still so much to go through, so many reports that the traitorous scientists had written. He would go through them all, confirm what he had learned so far. It made sense, it all made sense. What was left would only cement what he already knew: that he had a destiny!
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11/06/2022 04:52 PM
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Ethereal - Strike, Adapt, Abrupt - drabble
Pain exploded through his face. Eyes watered as Sephiroth staggered back holding his nose. He didn’t remember making a noise, but he must have done. When he moved his hand, it came away bloody. His nose didn’t feel broken, but that did not mean it wasn’t painful. He pinched the bridge and leaned his head forward. Tissue was stuffed into his hand and he placed it under his nose to catch the blood. “I suppose that is what I get for trying to sneak up on you,” he muttered.
“I am so sorry,” she said. “I had no idea you were there.” He could hear the regret in her tone, the worry and apology too. He should have known better than to sneak up on her. No matter that all he had wanted to do was pull her into an embrace and tell her how much he had missed her.
It had been a week since they’d last been able to get to their house. Not the ones behind the fence, but their home away from that life. It had been the longest week of his life, and it had taken all his will not to charge over to where she lived and carry her off. Part of him had been so tempted to do that anyway. He knew she’d not object. Shinra though, they would. They had them all living in this illusion and would deal with those who threatened that with severe punishment. Questions were already being asked to those couples who had not yet managed to start repopulating the world. Sephiroth suspected he already knew what the next step was. If he was right, there would be riots.
He pushed that from his mind and moved the tissue away from his nose. “Is it bad?” he asked.
“You need to wash your face,” she said. “I’m sorry,” she said again.
“It’s alright,” he said. “It was an accident.”
She patted his arm gently before handing him a damp cloth. “Does it hurt?” she asked. Sephiroth shook his head and wiped the blood from his nose. It had already stopped bleeding and the pain was all but gone.
“It was a bump, nothing more,” he said. A small smile touched his face, “Don’t worry.” The look on her face told him more than her words ever could. She pressed her lips together and looked down. He placed the cloth down on the table and placed his thumb under her chin. Lifting her face, he repeated, “It’s not your fault,” he said. She smiled a little then.
“You missed a bit…” Her little fingers touched the side of his face and brushed away the last of the dried blood. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. She clung to him, her little hands not touching behind him. Her delicate scent followed. Slowly, he closed his eyes, taking in the warmth of their embrace. No matter how often they found themselves like this, it never seemed to be enough. If he died in this moment, he would be content.
She pulled away, leaning back in his arms. Her forest green eyes met his lighter ones and she smiled. How could he ever resist such a lovely creature as she? Tilting his head a little, he met her lips with his. It was supposed to be a tender kiss, one that said that it wasn’t her fault at all and that he forgave him. However, when her lips parted in an open invitation, he couldn’t say no. The kiss deepened into something far more passionate.
As always, she was all honey and sweetness. Her taste was intoxicating, he couldn’t get enough of her. Tightening his grip on her, he wanted her to know he would never let her go, not while he had a choice in the matter. Her hands gripped his back, her breath echoed off his cheek. Soft hair brushed his hands, he pushed his fingers into her hair and plundered her mouth for kisses – making up for the lost time.
When he broke, both of their faces were flushed. The smile on her face was full of mischief. Her hand slipped into his and she stepped back. No words were needed and he let her lead him where she wanted to go.
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11/03/2022 04:56 PM
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Take Down - Volumes = DK
The fight was on! Nothing like violence to dispel tension and work through stress. It was a sparring session rather than a true fight but that did not mean Sephiroth intended to hold back! He never had previously when he fought and practised with Angeal and Genesis. There had rarely been injuries back then and he knew how to pull his blows when sparring. He wondered if DK would do the same. She could pack a punch when she wanted to and the angry look on her face informed him that this was going to be tougher than he anticipated. Good. It had been too long since he’d had a challenge.
The only weapons they’d be using was their bodies. Their fists and feet. DK had hers up by her face, guarding. The circling began. Blood thundered in his ears, a smile touched his lips. Sharp eyes missed nothing as his opponent moved slowly. Her footwork was impressing, stepping in such a way that she’d not overbalance even if hit. He mirrored, circling her, gauging her movements. Forcing his breathing to even lengths, he let calm flood him – no point in overthinking things. He had years of training behind him, just as she had.
Her first blow was more a test than anything else. She stepped in and jabbed. An easy blow to block and counter, though he made no attempt to. When he struck it would be fast and intentional. Let her wear herself out probing him for weakness.
The next kick he stepped around. The third blow he took on his forearm rather than his torso. Still nothing meaningful.
When it came, he was ready. The blow was fast, sharp and followed with a kick. The kick landed in his midriff, sending him back. He countered with a snap of his hand, jabbing DK’s shoulder. It knocked her but she kept her balance, following with a counter of her own. Sephiroth side-stepped the blow, chopped with the heel of his hand. If the blow hurt, she made no sound. She took a step back and looked at him, the rage in her eyes clear. Blowing hair from her face, she tried again.
A flurry of blows followed, some of which he blocked, some landed. The jabs ached, designed to tap into nerves and disrupt his abilities. He stopped it by hitting her back. A strong punch into her ribs that although pulled, disrupted her focus. She cried out and leapt back. He hadn’t hit her that hard, had he? He tilted his head. She shook hers. The rage bubbled up. She yelled this time, sending out a vicious kick.
Not wanting to be caught by the blow, Sephiroth swiped out and grabbed hold of her leg. He yanked back ruining her balance. Her other leg kicked one of his out on her way down, he staggered and fell to one knee. Her back hit the floor with a thud and he heard the wind rush from her. Her head had landed by his knee and he looked down with a small smile.
He would never admit it to her, but she was a pretty girl. She had an earthly, girl next door feel about her. She was welcoming, kind in her way and had dark eyes that danced with the vibrancy of life. What she was doing letting him stay around was beyond him, he would be forever grateful for that.
Those dark eyes flicked up to his and a frown crossed her face, “What?” she barked.
“Just wondering if you are up for another round,” he said. “Or have you had enough?”
“Get on your feet,” she snorted, “As if that little blow was enough! And stop holding back!” He stepped back and offered a hand to help her up. She took it before stepping back, “Get ready!” she said. Sephiroth shrugged and flicked his hair out the way, ready to continue the match.
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10/25/2022 04:02 PM
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Brush - For Ethereal.
Aerith – Brush – one brushes hand through hair as other opens up.
From the moment he walked in the door, Sephiroth knew something was wrong. Pressing his lips together, he shut the door behind him and placed his pack gently on the ground. She had beat him here. It had long been their custom to arrive separately. The fewer people who saw them together, the better. The longer they did this, the more dangerous it became. Pushing white hair from his face, he bent to remove his boots. He had just replaced the flooring in here and as such boots were now left at the door.
Aerith was not in the kitchen, so he headed into the living room. He found her there on the couch motionless. She was looking at her hands as though the secrets of the world could be found buried in her palms. Chestnut hair tumbled forward, unbound which in itself was unusual. She did not look around at his approach, nor move when he sat beside her.
She did not speak when he drew her close to him in an embrace that would have seen them both torn asunder should anyone else know. Her little hand rested against his chest, and she buried her face in his shoulder. The sobs followed moments later. Sephiroth knew her well enough not to press her into telling what was wrong just yet. Instead, he ran his large hand through her soft hair, holding her as she let the pent up emotion flow from her. Was this not the reason they had this place? How many times had they both voiced their frustrations and sorrows to each other here? Too many to count.
He had no tissue to offer her. Instead he pulled a square of clean fabric from her pocket and handed it to her. She took it, though just clung to it while, gripping it while the tension shook her. Slowly, her grip on his shirt eased and she wiped her nose, then her eyes. “Thank you,” she sniffed.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked. Aerith nodded, though she did not speak straight away. For a moment, Sephiroth thought she might start crying again, the emotion playing over her face felt like a hot blade through his stomach. “Has he done something to you?”
When she didn’t deny it, Sephiroth lifted her head with a gentle finger under her chin. When their eyes met he asked, “Has he hurt you?”
“No,” she answered immediately. There was no lie in her forest green eyes and he nodded slowly. Consequences be damned, if he had harmed his sweet flower there would be hell to pay. “It’s not that at all.” He pushed a lock of her hair out her face, wishing there was nothing in this world that would bring her such sorrow.
“What is it?” he asked. She looked away, her cheeks colouring. Was it shame? “You can tell me anything,” he said.
“You have to promise not to overreact,” she said, her voice dropping to a low whisper. Water made her eyes swim again, the forest green shimmering with the unshed tears. Sephiroth nodded, the anxiousness clutching his chest. “He thinks its time to start a family.” She turned her head away again. He felt the tears fall. He closed his eyes and pushed his hand through her hair, feeling the soft strands against his rough skin. Holding her would help neither of them in the long run, but he couldn’t stop. From the moment he had first taken her hand all those months ago, he hadn’t been able to resist her. He doubted he ever would.
Her husband on the other hand. He could go jump off a cliff for all Sephiroth cared. He had been indifferent to Aerith’s needs for so long; he did not deserve to be anywhere near her. Without thinking, his grip tightened on her arm. “You’re not overreacting,” she said softly, a rueful smile on her face. He relaxed his hand.
“I cannot stand the thought of him touching you,” Sephiroth said softly. “I know I have no right at all to say that.”
“You have every right,” she whispered, “I can’t stand it either.” Her face crinkled up again and she was once more lost to tears. It was a blow, and he held her, wondering if there was anything he could do to stop this anguish. He pressed his lips to the top of her head and pushed his hand through her hair again. “I can’t let him do that,” she said. “But I can’t keep putting him off either. It’s been months since the arrangements were made and…” She trailed off and wiped her nose again.
Sephiroth nodded. “We could run,” he said. They had spoken of that before, but never done anything about it. Everything had dwindled away once they had found this little haven. “I’d go with you to the ends of the world if you wanted.”
Aerith looked up, her eyes rimmed red. “Where would we go?” she sniffed.
“Anywhere, we could keep moving if we had to.” Her hand curled and she shuddered. He saw a battle take place in her eyes. Eventually she shut them. They both knew that Shinra, that Rufus who had arranged all these matches and forced them to play house, had infinite resources at his disposal to keep them where they were. They’d be hunted for the rest of their days, but would that be worse than what they endured now? “You don’t have to decide now,” he said. Her hand caught the strands of his hair and she twisted them around her fingers.
“How did we become so trapped?” she asked, though he knew the question was rhetorical. Aerith settled against him, the couch as familiar as an old friend. Silence fell between them and for the moment, he was content to just hold her close. These stolen moments of sadness was all they had left, and he wouldn’t surrender that, not for anything. The time would come soon when they would be forced to part again, but for now, this was enough.
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10/23/2022 05:32 PM
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Clarity - Sylas
Clarity – ground the other after a freak out – Sylas
The last set of bombings had been particularly harrowing. That they were no closer to finding the perpetrators of the heinous crime did nothing to ease the minds of those who had to deal with it. Today, it had been Sephiroth and his trainee, Sylas.
This time, the bomb had been rigged to an ancient stream train that had been making its last trip across the city before being retired. That the engine had been a relic of happier times mattered not to the criminals, all they wanted was to cause trouble and make their message known. Sephiroth wasn’t stupid enough to think that they had no idea what would happen when the engine exploded, it was intentional. Whether they’d planned for it to blow at the intersection where a large crowd had gathered was another thought entirely.
The blast had caused a secondary explosion within the boiler, which had sent the internal tubing tearing away quick enough to spear whatever they hit. They had hit the surrounding area and torn it to pieces. Shops, houses, men, women, children. The casualty list was still growing. The bridge the train had been travelling over had collapsed, which had turned the chaos into a calamity.
By the time SOLDIER had got there, the scene was carnage. Most of the bodies had been covered, but not all. It reminded Sephiroth of a warzone. The damage was extensive. Looking around it turned his stomach in the same way that some of the battles he had been on did. He knew he wouldn’t be harmed now, the damage was already done, but the sight of the dismembered bodies made him wary. Sylas had turned an alarming shade of white tinged with green, however he did not throw up.
They had ensured pictures had been taken, evidence gathered and the scene secured before heading back to their barracks to digest what had happened. Neither of them had spoken on the way back, keeping their thoughts to themselves. It was not an easy scene to digest and Sephiroth knew there would be fall out for both of them at some point. The human mind couldn’t deal with such sights without some backlash somewhere. He had seen it enough times during the war to know that it manifested in many different ways. There was no way to predict how, and the Company were not the best at understanding the mental needs of their employees so they were left to get on with it.
There were psych evaluations, but they didn’t deal with problems too well, just found them.
For Sephiroth, it manifested in withdrawing. He felt the need to be away from the human race and work through his anger with his sword… or a particularly good book. Angeal needed to talk, Genesis ran it out of his system. Sylas – well, he didn’t know yet.
It happened while Sephiroth was finishing up some paperwork. Sylas burst into the office, breathing hard. His hair was dishevelled and he looked around, frantic. He threw himself into one of the chairs and fidgeted for a while. Sephiroth gave him a moment, to see if he had the words to describe what he was going through. When he didn’t speak, Sephiroth asked, “What happened?”
Sylas drew in a breath and stilled. “It…” He paused. “There was a woman with a tube through her head.”
“There was.”
“Her blood splattered the wall and I can’t stop seeing that pattern. I close my eyes and it’s there. The bright red just splattered there.” Sylas was a talker then. Sephiroth nodded, urging the young SOLDIER to go on. He swallowed and waved a hand. “There were others but she stands out. She was close to the blast and her hair was burned. It was one of the smaller pieces and the hole in her head. It was so vivid and brutal. How can I not see it? The splatter and how that brass stuck out of her temple.” He shuddered.
“It was not a pretty sight,” Sephiroth said pushing white hair from his face.
“How can they do it? Those people who set the bomb? All those people are dead and for what?” A couple of tears slid down his cheeks; Sephiroth slid a box of tissue towards him, which he took, and used. “It’s not right!”
“No, it’s not right,” Sephiroth agreed. “Which is why we are here, why we have to ensure that these people are caught and cannot do anything like it again.”
“It was so red…”
Sephiroth got up from the desk and headed over to where his young friend was sat. He gave his shoulder a squeeze and nodded. “We’ll get them.”
Sylas swallowed. “We have to.”
Sephiroth knew he was not a talker – that he was not one who was good at discussing feelings, or reassuring those who were having difficulties with theirs. He patted his shoulder again and tried to smile. “We’ll work on it together.” His voice sounded flat but he meant what he said. Sylas nodded, and that was enough – they’d catch these murderers in the end.
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10/20/2022 01:52 PM
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Kindness
“It’s only an orange!”
The words echoed around Sephiroth’s mind over and over again. The events of the last hour playing out again and again. The kindly given gift dashed against the wall with a hard slap.
Holidays were supposed to be cheerful. They were supposed to be full of good will and peace and all manner of kindness.
The cold light of the labs Sephiroth had the misfortune to call home always felt colder this time of year. On his way back from school, for he was allowed to go and socialise with other children, he saw the other adults mingling. Their laughter went a small way to mitigate the stark white walls. He had not been allowed to decorate them so the bright coloured paper and sparkling trees were left outside his rooms.
There was drink and food, music and even dancing. He had dragged his heels as he was led through the party back to his cell. He’d slipped the hand that led him and for a moment, he stood watching the adults have their fun.
“Come on!” snapped Marla. She was the one who took him from the cells to the school car and back again. She was a pinch faced, hard eyed woman who had no care in her at all.
“Leave the boy alone Marla!” A tall man with a big bushy moustache said. “Poor lad doesn’t get out much as it is, let him see.”
“Five minutes,” Marla said folding her arms over her chest. “But he will hear about it and you can deal with him.”
The man laughed at her. No one laughed at Marla. Sephiroth was already too busy looking at the flashing lights and shiny tinsel that decorated the tree. They had them in the school. All the other children had them in their homes too. Many of them would get gifts and get to spend the day not doing any homework.
“Pretty isn’t it,” said the man who had laughed at Marla. He nodded. He had been told not to speak to strangers. This man seemed rather nice for a stranger though. His eyes were kind, but there was a sadness in his pose that Sephiroth couldn’t understand. This was a party, people were supposed to be happy at parties.
All of a sudden, something cool and round was shoved into his little hands. Glancing down, he saw that the man had pushed an orange into his grip. He had never had an orange before. The skin was crinkly, pitted and smelled wonderful. A small smile touched his face. “You take that and eat it later,” the man said.
“All for me?”
“All for you!”
“Thank you,” he said softly. No one had ever given him anything before but he knew he had to be polite.
“You better go with Marla now, else she’ll do something awful!”
Sephiroth looked up at the woman and nodded. He had nowhere to hide the gift; all he could do was trot over and follow her into the lab. Once through the lab, she shoved him into his room with the palm of her hand. “Get in there!” she snapped.
Faster than he could move, she dashed the orange from his grip. It hit the floor with a squelch, juice leaking from the broken skin. “It’s only an orange!” she barked, snatching it from the floor before he could get it back. She was gone before he could say anything else.
He wouldn’t cry. She would know if he cried and merely taunt him for it later. The scent of the juice still lingered in the air. As he walked over to the hard bed, he wondered what it would have tasted like. Maybe one of the other children would be able to tell him after the holiday. He laid down and squeezed his eyes shut, he wouldn’t cry! A single tear slid down his cheek; this was supposed to be the season of kindness. He wondered whether that kindness would ever extend to him.
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10/05/2022 03:13 PM
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Madness
The gaps between the madness.
It is always the subtle scent of lilies that bring him back to some sense of lucidity, though he does not know why. He hates them for it, loathes them for being the one reminder that what he has done is so wrong. The darkness of his anger at those who lied to him, tortured him brought the monster forth to pollute his every waking moment. Most of the time, he felt nothing at all. An observer within his own skin.
Events happened in pictures; snap shots of events that he had no control over. All he had was second hand anger and bitterness, hate and fear. He remembered the flames, the lick of them as they scorched his boots, the scent of ash climbing his nose. The outrage of those he had harmed, the frozen looks of horror on their faces, the tears and open-mouthed screams, the burning flesh. The blood. So much blood. How could he have so much on his hands and live?
But the scent of lilies. Sweet and innocent, clean and white. It reminded him of his name: Sephiroth. It reminded him that all he had learned was not all that he had been. Once, there had been friends. Closer to him than family ever could be. They had been his family – the brothers he never had. A dark headed fellow obsessed with doing the right thing. Another who read Loveless to the point of obsession and a black haired young lad, youthful and enthusiastic. There had been a time once, not so long ago, where acceptance had been his.
He had always been different, always known there was something unusual about himself. In those few scant moments, it hadn’t mattered. He had smiled then too, not worried about everything that happened or didn’t happen, or might happen. He had stopped chewing his nails. He had even tolerated those he had previously despised, much to the surprise of most people around him. Had he known happiness, Sephiroth rather thought he had. Only warmth, only love, only companionship.
The best imprint though, a pair of sea green eyes in a soft face that radiated kindness. She and Zack. They were companions? More than that? All he recalled was the sweet gestures and the light touches that brought warmth flooding to his cheeks. Laughter and delight always followed; and the scent of lilies. Always the floral scent followed the green eyes. He had always thought her beautiful, though he had no language to express such. It showed in a protectiveness that he barely understood. He was sure there had been words for it once, but they were lost to him now.
Lucidity faded as another pushed him back into the spectator’s seat. She had to die. He had to stamp out the light from his darkening world. The anguish the act brought was smothered in hate, pushed beyond reason. Those eyes would never understand what he was trying to achieve. No one could. Only Mother knew. She would protect him, she would keep him safe from the world, from the memories and the pungent scent of lilies that troubled him so. The scent faded, replaced with the acrid copper tang of spilled blood and external rage. It was on his hands, only his. His self-loathing smothered all other emotion, consuming the flicker of light, the brief memory and pulling him back into the oblivion of hate.
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10/02/2022 05:31 PM
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Breakdown - Notali - Drabble
“Are you alright?”
Her words were kindly meant, but they were the last thing Sephiroth wanted to hear. His breath hitched and he felt every last shred of his resolve crumble like an ill-formed dam. The flood water tumbled through and his head fell forward. As much as he couldn’t stop the tears from flowing, or the shuddering of his shoulders, he did not want her to see him crying. His weakness was reserved for him alone, and he would keep it that way. Except…
Her hand touched his forearm and he looked up before he could stop himself. He swallowed. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he screwed his eyes shut and coughed out another wave of pain.
“You don’t have to hide, you can talk to me, if you want to,” Notali said.
Sephiroth shook his head, his voice robbed by the thickness in his throat. It was all too soon. How could he talk to her about it when he was still going through what had happened? Still trying to process the sudden, violent death of his friend. His chest tightened and he sucked in a breath. “Not now,” he said, his voice sounding raw. His eyes stung with the already shed tears; there would be plenty more to come of that he was sure. “I want to, just… I need some more time.”
She gave his bicep a light squeeze, the smile on her face was sadder than he expected. “He was my friend too,” she said. “I understand.” He pushed stray strands of hair back from his face, letting her see his red stained eyes. Notali pressed some tissue into his hand and another wave of tears fled his eyes. He could take it if she was unkind, if she snapped at him to get over it and ignored his display. The kindness was every bit as heart breaking as the loss. He wiped the tears away and blew his nose. It felt a bit better.
Sucking in a shuddering breath, he offered Notali a weak smile. “I’m going for a shower and to get cleaned up. We can talk after?” Notali nodded. He patted her shoulder. When he had showered, he was sure he would be ready to talk.
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10/01/2022 02:13 PM
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Brush - Not so Delicate - Drabble
She was crying. Sat hunched opposite the door against the wall, knees drawn up to her chin, arms around her legs and head bowed. Her shoulders shook with the sobs that wracked her slender frame. Dark hair tumbled down around her; it was a vista of despair.
He understood why, he knew what they did to people in those labs – was he not a frequent visitor himself? Had he not first-hand knowledge of the cruelty of needles and cold tests. The physical pain, the emotional damage, and the relentless, endless questions they asked over and over again. They had a way of weedling inside, wearing your resolve down until all that was left was an empty shell. Resilience evaporated in the face of those picking, scratching scientists.
He had no idea how to fix it though. Watching her sob, as he had done in the silence of the night so many times before, he knew what she was feeling. She had always been so strong in his eyes, the bright green of her eyes an island of warmth in a desolate world. How could he look at her with red rimmed eyes filled with tears.
Sephiroth swallowed and looked through the door. He couldn’t leave her there. How many times had he been there and longed for someone to reach out. A friendly face, anything to ease the hurt. He pressed his lips together. Comfort was not his forte. He had no idea what to do. He was a SOLDIER. He was made for fighting and the hard realities of war, not for reassuring those in the grips of despair.
Without thinking, he depressed the handle and entered the room. Aerith did not look up. He hoped she hadn’t heard him. How was he going to explain how he was in here? He didn’t know what he was doing! Still, he couldn’t leave her like this. He hesitated half way across the room. He should go. This was not his problem, he shouldn’t be here. The cameras would give him away and there would be questions. Questions he had no answers for.
She sniffed, another sob shaking her small frame. He was kneeling beside her before he knew he had moved. Reaching out a trembling hand, he hesitated again. The sense that this was one of the stupidest things he had ever done flooded him. She would strike his hand away, berate him for trying to offer what small comfort he could. She’d reject it and laugh at his pitiful action. He couldn’t do it. No. He could. He had to. Gingerly, he ran his hand over her head and braced himself for the awful reaction she was sure to have.
It didn’t come.
She didn’t speak, maybe she couldn’t through the tears. Nor did she pull away. Her head raised a little and he saw that her beautiful green eyes were a bloodshot mess. He watched her swallow and he repeated the gesture, pushing his large fingers through her loose brown hair. It was awkward. The uselessness he felt was not tempered by her leaning into the brief touch. It was all he had to offer. Affectionate gestures came easily to others, and he envied that. How they could embrace and laugh and heal one another with small actions and touches. He never had that ability. The easy comradery of others had always eluded him.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered. “They’ll hurt you.”
“I know,” he said. She tilted her head and he shook his.
“Go.” Sephiroth repeated the gesture a final time, the softness of her hair would become a memory that he returned to time and again over the years. “Go!” This time, he got to his feet.
Before he left her side, he whispered, “I’ll leave the door unlocked.” He then straightened and turned away. Whatever she did next was up to her, he had done what he could.
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09/26/2022 12:49 PM
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RP Guidelines
Current mood:
 accomplished
I thought I would set out some guidelines about how I want to write here, it makes things really easy.
1 - Please be patient, I have a busy real life.
2 - Please don't god mod - I will write Sephiroth how I want to, you do your character how you like.
3 - Romance: I write it. I enjoy it, but I won't write smut for smut's sake. (But I DO write smut in the right context). I prefer characters to connect and to be invested in a story. I don't single ship either. I write a wide range of stories with a lot of different people, and I intend to keep it that way.
4 - I will discuss most plots. I do not need a lot of discussion just a rough idea. I don't like random starters.
5 - Rp and RL are different things folks. Please don't confuse the two - I like clear boundaries around this.
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