Those of Shadows

Some people find no peace in the light of day, neither do they revel in the darkness of night. Rather, they best love the murky in-between, the times when color exists in muted tones and shadows are deep and strong, times when one may wonder: Is it the very last light of the dusk? Or the very first light of dawn? [ Multimuse for FFVII and Kingdom Hearts. Independent. Private. Selective. Written by Walden. Most icons should be credited to @lyrieuxsicons ]

[ofduskorofdawn]

Welcome to my multimuse blog for characters mainly from Final Fantasy VII and Kingdom Hearts II.

Thanks for your time and your follow, and I look forward to writing together!

RULES // MUSES // CARRD

I do also have other FFVII blogs that can be found here:

@fivedecisivefactors — Tseng of the Turks

@thecursedgunman — Vincent Valentine

@theobliqueandthedirect — Rufus Shinra

Note: The first two are main blogs; the latter blog as well as this one are a side blogs, and thus, any follows will be from one of my main blogs.

I also have a few other blogs with FFVII/KHII verses available:

@weariedshield , @secondofthelegion , @aworldofmania — Muses from a mobile game called Path to Nowhere. [ It's a pretty niche game, it seems like, so be assured, no prior knowledge of the game is necessary. ]

@mistersaxophone , @justwantedbeeframen , @beboptothebeat — Muses from Cowboy Bebop [ blogs currently under construction as my love of the anime was recently revived ]

@lechevaliermelancholique — Haji from Blood+

@alchemicassassin — Midas from FORTNITE

@arashikagesteel — Storm Shadow [ with occasional Snake Eyes muse ] from G. I. JOE

@swiftdeathtoevil , @notquitebuddha , @nolongerbattosai from Rurouni Kenshin

[ofduskorofdawn]

@evcryopeneye continued from here

Yuffie pauses, looks down at her phone and frowns. 

She has a bad feeling about this. A horrible sinking feeling. One of those ‘oh shit’ moments that you couldn’t describe but fully understood as a warning from the universe. 

“You ever get that feeling like, you know things are about to go wrong and you can’t stop it from going wrong so you just let the car wreck happen?” Yuffie asked, with a little hesitation. 

“I am kinda getting that vibe right now.” 

" . . . "

Does he ever get that feeling?

Yeah, usually at least one or two or twenty times anytime he goes anywhere with his usual partner, but he hadn't gotten it with the kid.

At least until now.

Maybe it's contagious.

Regardless, he steps closer to Yuffie, an inherent protectiveness to his stance as he pockets the phone and clenches his fists, eyes scanning their surroundings from behind his shades.

"... Hm. Yeah. Sounds about right."

[ofduskorofdawn]

@evcryopeneye continued from here

She turns, looks out the window and sees nothing.

For a moment, Yuffie frowns. She doesn’t want to gaslight him into thinking that there’s nothing there, that felt mean and for all of the banter and humour Yuffie had, she wasn’t mean.

Instead she takes a deep breath. His tone is serious. One that doesn’t fit him, and feels out of character for him. It is the only thing that makes her take this seriously instead of just saying something validating and moving on with what it was she was doing.

Hands curl around her weapon as she stands up, and takes a deep breath.

“You wanna come with me? I’m gonna go take a look then.” It was a least she could do, hopefully it would put him at ease if there was no one there, and deal with whoever was there if he was right.

"What? You think I'm the kinda guy to make a gal go out and check a noise for me? Tch. I'm insulted. Wounded."

The words are lighter now that he has convinced her he is quite in earnest, but there's still a seriousness to his expression that undercuts the levity.

A lot could be said about Reno—his penmanship was just bordering illegible, his sense of dress was comfortable at best, and his devil-may-care attitude had a tendency to rub some the wrong way—but when it matters, he has always been dependable.

Taking up his EMR, he settles it across his shoulders in his usual casual manner and nods toward the back door.

"C'mon. Let's sneak around and show this bogeyman he picked the wrong place, yeah?"

[warofthebeasts]

It is always agony, those first few breaths in his lungs, the first few beats of his heart, his body struggling to remember how to do what it had always known how to do: live. It was agony when it happened in the midst of war and it is agony now. There is no part of him that does not hurt, does not ache or burn or twitch or shudder. His nerves are on fire as they regain sensation, and in both instances he is too cold and too hot.

If he'd had the voice, Sephiroth would have screamed. He would have screamed because he can't breathe. He can't breathe and he is drowning. His lungs are full of mako, his veins are full of mako, it fills his throat and his mouth and it burns.

His breathing is rapid, shallow, and uneven. His chest rises then falls, stops, then rises again as if he is sucking in air and cannot quite get enough into himself.

It stops again. His heart stutters between beats...

Gravity helps.

His airway clears with hacking coughs and heaving that forces the mako from his lungs and his throat and his mouth, and he shudders, body shivering with tremors. The metal beneath his skin is cold, frigid, goosebumps spreading their way up and down his arms until the meager warmth of something being wrapped around him tries to chase them away. The tremors slow, lessening until they are only shivers that have his teeth chattering.

Finally, Sephiroth opens his eyes. At first, his vision is blurred, blinded by the green of mako that drips like tears from his eyes. He wheezes, blinking to try and clear his vision enough so that he can see...

He must be dreaming, he thinks, because the first person he sees isn't another scientist. It isn't Hojo. It isn't another SOLDIER. It is one of the few people that he has always felt the safest with.

Ariana.

Her hand is warm against his neck. Warm, grounding, comforting. Her voice chases away all yearning for that green cocoon in which 'Mother' whispers, all of the loneliness and the sadness and the anger. His hand moves, fingers shaking, and blindly he grasps around for her hand. Either hand, whichever hand he can find, he wants to hold her hand. He needs to hold her hand because he is lost and disoriented and confused and cold.

He can't speak, not yet. His voice is raw from the poison in his lungs, but he lets out a hoarse groan in response; he can hear her, he can see her, he can feel her.

[ofduskorofdawn]

His pulse is somewhat erratic but it seems strong and that gives her at least some reassurance, though not nearly so much as when his hand reaches out for hers, even as she can almost hear the sound of her heart shattering in her chest.

Without hesitation, she moves to grasp his hand and holds firm.

"It's okay. It's alright. You're safe now. You're safe. I promise."

As Ariana tries to reassure, Reeve checks a final time that the instrument readouts are acceptable for the reactor and—after offering it a word of thanks—he makes his way, a bit shakily, over to the them, kneeling beside Tseng to check on his vitals.

"... I am... fine, Director," Tseng says in answer to his presence. A slight strain remains to his voice, but it seems at least slightly more stable.

Of course, having so stubborn a nature as has brought him through countless other difficulties, simply saying it isn't enough—and certainly not when the one they had thought dead is alive mere feet from him. And so, though not quite yet able to push to his feet, he does turn a bit that he might—in spite of both Reeve and Ari's objections—all but drag himself across the floor the distance necessary to see for himself that Sephiroth is alive and breathing.

The feeling that all but overwhelms him is one to which he has always struggled to give name, but his throat feels tight and his eyes sting.

[ He's alive. He's alive. He's alive. ]

Shaking her head—though the soft smile likely undercuts the disapproval—Ariana shifts just barely so that Sephiroth and Tseng can more easily see one another, though she does not let go of that hand held within her own.

"Tseng and Director Tuesti are here, too," she explains to Sephiroth. "The Director was the one who found you and helped us to get you out."

"I think that was the very least that could be done, and not even a fraction of what is owed..." Reeve answers, removing his own suit coat to settle over Tseng.

[remanence-of-love]

[naileadevoras]

does the process know that we are trusting it

[scealaiscoite]

‧₊˚ 🪦 ✩ unsettling dialogue prompts

¹⁾ “i’m not crazy! someone’s been in here!”

²⁾ “someone’s standing outside the window.”

³⁾ “i don’t know who sent you that, but it wasn’t me.”

⁴⁾ “i locked this door when i left; i’m certain of it.”

⁵⁾ “i can hear footsteps.”

⁶⁾ “the dog’s barking like crazy, will you go see what’s wrong with him?”

⁷⁾ “that car’s taken every turn we have for the last ten minutes.”

⁸⁾ “did your phone just lose signal too?”

⁹⁾ “i, uh- i don’t remember telling you that.”

¹⁰⁾ “letter came for you- no stamp, though. i think it might’ve just been left at the door, weird as it is.”

¹¹⁾ “upstairs has been banging on the ceiling all damn night, i haven’t slept a fucking wink.”

¹²⁾ “i think someone’s slashed my tires.”

¹³⁾ “i know it’s late, but i need you to come downstairs and meet me out front. someone’s following me home.”

¹⁴⁾ “i don’t know anyone by that name. you’re sure they knocked and asked for me?”

¹⁵⁾ “yeah, because someone sending you a bouquet of the flowers you’re deathly allergic to is definitely not something to worry about.”

¹⁶⁾ “no, no, please tell me you didn’t let them in. the landlord said she’d come and fix the faucet herself, that she never calls in contractors! no one has any reason to be in there!”

¹⁷⁾ “that’s weird, i could’ve sworn i closed the curtains when i left this morning.”

¹⁸⁾ “that car’s been out front all day.”

¹⁹⁾ “i just moved in, i haven’t given anyone the address yet.”

²⁰⁾ “what are you on about? i’ve been in bed since nine, i didn’t text you to meet me anywhere.”

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FOR PRE ESTABLISHED CONNECTIONS AND CREATING HISTORY BETWEEN CHARACTERS *  assorted dialogue for giving your characters a history and giving them past things or events to talk about, adjust as necessary

do you remember what i told you last time?

have you been doing well since i saw you?

that's not what you told me back then.

when was the last time i saw you?

you were shorter then.

i'm picking the restaurant this time.

we've known each other since we were children.

always knew i could count on you.

that time was different. this is worse.

you're not going to let me live that down, are you?

i seem to remember a conversation we had back then.

so you changed your mind about it?

do you remember our encounter in paris?

you should know me by now.

am i the only one that knows the truth?

we had a lot of help back then.

your mom told me to look out for you.

you just love bringing that back up to annoy me.

maybe don't mention my past indescretions?

this was never going to work out between us.

i told you not to get attached.

i know more about you than you think.

i was there, remember?

i'm not about to forget all the shit you put me through.

you told me you were going to try and make this work.

remember what i said to you?

the last time i saw you, things were good between us.

you never mentioned this before.

that was the longest flight of my life, and you made it worse.

can i still trust you after all that?

at least we tried to make something work.

we never discussed what happened between us.

okay, but i'm driving the car this time.

i haven't forgotten what you said last week.

i'm still thinking about your comment.

i didn't realize it was you when i first saw you.

you seem to make a lot of enemies around here.

there's not much for us to talk about.

we worked it out last time.

i know you far better than you know yourself.

we have a long history.

is that the shirt you were wearing last time?

what don't i know about you?

i haven't told them about us.

you were the only person i could go to.

you know me.

this is bigger than both of us.

i can't stand your driving.

are you taking me to the place we had dinner last time?

that's not at all what you said.

didn't we agree on that?

i thought i made it very clear where i stand.

are these the same people that came after you last time?

are you still going on about it?

can we talk about it?

staying silent about it won't help.

you're the only person who knows the real me.

this is a bad time to talk about your problems.

[soulrph]

𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐋/𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐂 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒.

as requested by a very wonderful, very dear, very lovely friend! i hope you all enjoy using these as much as i enjoyed writing them! i honestly found these so nice and therapeutic to write tho like oml i cannot get over it! DO NOT ADD TO THIS LIST PLEASE! 

“ oh, i knew you could do it! i’m so proud of you! “

“ i’m thinking of doing a movie/game night at my place, if you wanna join in? “

“ how many mugs of coffee have you had today?! that’s enough, now, you go take a nap before you buzz through the ceiling! “

“ i’ll send you the recipe, if you like! but, in the same breath, you should know that i really don’t mind continuing to cook this for you; it’s no trouble at all, really! “

“ are you sure there isn’t anything i can do to help you in the kitchen? “

“ come on in! take a seat! i’ll fix you up a plate, there’s more than enough to go around! “

“ why don’t you spend the night here? really, it’s no trouble to fix up the guest room, and we have plenty of spare pajamas and toiletries if that’s what’s bothering you! “

“ look, i get the whole lone wolf thing, trust me, i do. but… you do understand that there’ll always be a place here for you, don’t you? that door is always open to you, no matter what. that’s a promise. “

“ why don’t i make you a cup of tea, and you can tell me all about it? “

“ [NAME]? hey, hey, hey, what’s the matter? are you okay? what’s wrong? oh, come here… “

“ jeez, i don’t even wanna know how you got that battle wound there; sit down and let me fix it up, won’t you? “

“ hey, stranger! it’s been a minute, huh? what’ve you been up to? how have you been? hell, where have you been? “

“ now, now, don’t be silly; put that wallet away. i invited you out for dinner, so i’ll pay the bill, right? you can get the next one! “

“ hey, you didn’t order anything! don’t worry about it, huh? here, take half my sandwich; i can never finish the damn thing, anyway, you’re really doing me the favor! and there’s coffee in that flask, so help yourself to that, too! i’ve been trying to cut back, anyhow. “

“ hey, i know it’s really late, but… i didn’t know who else to call. “

“ everything’s gonna be okay, i promise. just tell me where you are, okay? and i’ll come and get you right this second. “

“ well, we have to celebrate your good news! what’s your favorite dinner? oh, and cake! we can’t have a decent celebration without cake, right? “

“ hey, hey, it’s okay, relax. i’m not about to nag you for skipping out on curfew, alright? have you eaten anything? because i saved you a plate, and it’s in the oven if you want it. “

“ now, now, none of that self-hate talk! we all have bad days, right? we all mess up sometimes and make silly mistakes. but it doesn’t matter at the end of the day; it just makes the good days all the better! “

“ guess who has an extra ticket for the concert this weekend! wanna come with me? they’re practically front row! “

“ you’re still coming over for dinner tonight, right? “

“ hey! what are your plans for the holidays? because, if you didn’t have any, i have an offer for you! or an open invitation! “

“ did you do something different with your hair? it looks amazing! “

“ oh my god, where have you been?! i was so worried about you! are you okay? did you get hurt?! “

“ we should go out tonight! come on, you can ransack my wardrobe if you like! i have a friend who’s the bouncer at that new night club, they can get us in for free! “

“ i made you some breakfast, if you’re hungry? it’s your favorite! unless you’ve got a new favorite, in which case… “

“ don’t forget to take an umbrella! “

“ let me know when you get there so i know you’re safe, okay? “

“ i watched that show you recommended last week! it was so good! can you believe that season finale, though? “

“ rough night, huh? i know that feeling. here, help yourself; the coffee is fresh, and the waffles are pretty damn good today, if i do say so myself! “

“ i knew you’d forget yours, so i brought extra. go ahead, help yourself! “

“ you’re welcome to stay for as long as you like. what’s mine is yours, okay? you don’t need to ask permission, just take whatever you want. “

“ you should get some sleep, okay? my room is just down the hall if you need anything. “

“ you don’t need to be so polite around here, you know! help yourself; i don’t bite! “

“ hey now, never apologize for feeling emotions, okay? humans are meant to feel all this stuff, no matter how good or bad the feelings are. besides; shoulders are built to be cried on! “

“ you should keep that sweater! it looks much better on you than it does on me; brings out your eyes! “

“ i never realized you could cook! the apron suits you very nicely! “

“ if you don’t have any plans this weekend, we should do something together! “

“ remember, if you want to leave early, just call me and i’ll come get you, okay? “

“ would you come on in inside out of that rain?! you’ll catch your death! “

“ don’t worry about it, okay? no apologies necessary; just breathe, everything’s good. “

“ it’s okay! no use crying over spilt milk, am i right? fetch me that mop and i’ll clean it up; you should find a clean shirt in the third drawer in my room, too! “

“ here, grab a plate; i made your favorite, and there’s more than enough for you to have seconds and take home a tonne of leftovers, too! “

“ would you mind setting the table for me while i finish up in the kitchen? “

“ you want some hot cocoa before you go to bed? i’m more than happy to have one with you; not to praise myself or anything, but my hot cocoa is the best in town! “

“ you did it! oh, congratulations! quick, i’m gonna fetch the sparkling cider, and then i’ll book a table somewhere fancy; we’re going to celebrate in style! “

“ oh god, you’re burning up a fever, you poor thing! here, lie down, let’s get you some water and a nice cool cloth, huh? “

“ how are you feeling? i thought you might be hungry, so i made some tea and toast. “

“ i thought i might find you out here… this must be your favorite spot, huh? it’s nice! “

“ how are you? and be real with me, now; i can tell when you’re not being honest with me. you’ve got a tell. “

“ figured you might be needing an extra blanket in this weather. you mind if i sit with you for a while? “

“ let’s go for a walk, huh? i know this place that does the best coffee you’ll ever have! “

“ i can’t believe you’ve never seen this movie before! we have to fix this immediately; you get the popcorn, i’ll order in the pizza and get the tv set up. “

“ wow… that pun was so awful, it actually became good again. nicely done! “

“ i know you have that meeting today, so i thought i’d come wish you luck. and give you my lucky socks! “

“ hey! i hope you’re hungry, i spared you some waffles and pancakes from breakfast this morning! “

“ maybe you’re not ready to talk just now. but i want you to know that, whenever you are, my door is always open to you. understand? “

“ i’m not here to say i told you so, don’t worry. i’m not that cruel. i’m just here to comfort my friend. “

“ you’re here so often, i figured it was about time you had your very own mug! “

“ do you mind if i put you down as my emergency contact? “

“ you should move in with me! i have a spare room, the rent is cheap, it’s closer to work… i mean, only if you want to, but i’m very much in favor of this! “

“ i know that things haven’t been easy for you lately, so… i was thinking, maybe we could plan a little vacation together? “

“ pull the car over, alright? you can get some sleep in the back seat, and i’ll take over the driving. “

“ woah, woah, woah… slow it down a few miles, huh? what’s going on? where’s the fire? “

“ do you want a hug? i give some really good hugs; i nearly got voted the best hug-giver in the continent, once! come on, you know you want to! “

“ hey! so i’m after having a really crappy day. you wanna get take-out and watch a movie at my place tonight? “

“ i remember you saying you didn’t like this ingredient last time, so i fixed you up something else. “

[warofthebeasts]

Never has he been someone of many words. Words had never been encouraged from him unless directly asked for them; he had been raised to be seen but not heard. Even in the presence of those few who encouraged him to grow, he remained quiet.

There are things he could say now. There are many, many things he wants to say. There are thoughts and feelings, the nightmares that seem to fill his every sleeping moment and have since he was only a child, how every morning he awakens with the image of Hojo leering down at him and the taste of mako in the back of his throat. He could tell them about being fourteen years old and thrown onto a battlefield, about being locked inside a freezer at age ten, about being cut open and stripped apart more times than he can recall celebrating a birthday just to see what his body would do.

The times when he'd fallen and his heart stopped because he'd pushed himself too hard because Hojo said he must, or because he'd taken a hundred too many bullets, or because he'd fought a few too many men at once, and he'd been shocked back to life once they'd dragged him off the battlefield or out of the training facility then pumped full of adrenaline and enough mako to kill fifty men, just so they can send him out again.

And again.

And again.

They'd never even had the kindness to allow him to die and stay dead.

"...Nibelheim. It..." Sephiroth starts, then he stops, shaking his head. Pulling his hand free of Ari's, he leans forward to bury his face in both of his hands, letting out a long and deep, shaky sigh.

"...I don't know. There's something very wrong with me." But he doesn't know how to explain it, and that clumsy sentence is the closest he can come to finding the words.

"...There has always been something very wrong with me. Sometimes, I feel as if I'm not alone inside myself."

[ofduskorofdawn]

When he moves to pull his hand away from her, she lets him do so, placing her own back down as she looks at him and listens.

If she is honest, his explanation worries her, but not because she finds it shocking—more so for the confirmation it gives.

Though Tseng has had far more experience than her with such episodes, she had witnessed at least a few times when Sephiroth had become agitated seemingly out of nowhere. The times she had witnessed, with Tseng present, he had usually been able to calm him, mostly just by speaking softly and helping him to ground himself. [ In reality? ] To give him something to anchor to. [ Something besides whatever other also resides within him? ]

"There is nothing wrong with you," she answers with quite a bit of emphasis on the last word, not wanting him to think of himself as wrong, but then she continues, also wanting to make certain that he knows she isn't disregarding or discounting what he has shared.

"But... what you're saying? Obviously I can't confirm anything, but I wouldn't put much of anything past Hojo, up to and including whatever could cause you to feel like that... Have you talked with Tseng about this?"

[warofthebeasts]

He'd thought he'd been away from prying eyes, but if it's one thing he's learned from the Turks, especially from Tseng and Ariana, they always had an ability to find him when he least wants them to but most needs them to.

"...They always sounded so far away in Nibelheim. ...But that was probably because I was in the basement..." He tucks himself a little closer, pulling his knees in tight to his chest.

"I'm not afraid of the dark. I can see better in the dark than in bright light anyway." Curious, then, Sephiroth peers up at her, head tilted to the side.

"Things that go bump in the night? Why don't you make them stop instead of being afraid of them?" He'd never heard that expression before, he didn't think.

[ofduskorofdawn]

The mention of the basement.

The way he curls in on himself.

Since the first time she met him, there's always been something about the kid that almost painfully tugs at her heart, maybe because it reminds her of her own younger brother and how things used to be. It hasn't been like that for some time, and yet how easily she finds herself slipping back into the role she had taken on then, comforter, protector, whatever it took.

[ If only there was some way to protect this kid, she probably would have done anything to accomplish that as well... ]

When he looks up at her and asks what he does, however, she makes sure to her expression free from any traces of anger at Hojo and Shinra—as well as any melancholy about her own currently non-existent at best and antagonistic worst relationship with her brother. She opts instead for a seemingly open expression, eyebrows slightly up, a slight upturn to the corners of her lips, personable, friendly.

[ She has had enough practice with bringing up that particular mask to cover anything she doesn't want seen that it's almost second nature now. ]

She listens as he tells her a little more about himself, completely unasked, and as minor as the details are, she considers it some sort of progress, some small level of trust.

His question, however, catches her off-guard, and a laugh escapes her, a sincere one for once, bright and almost melodic.

"You'd think that would be an easy solution, wouldn't it?" she questions, and her tone isn't unkind or condescending. If anything, there's a warm fondness to it as she moves to sit down across from him, pulling her own legs up in a loose mirroring of his own posture.

"But sometimes even things that seem simple are more complicated than you'd think. Some problems are easy to solve because the dangers and the enemies are obvious, and everyone knows what and who they are and agree that something should be done to stop them."

"Some dangers though...."

People with power or with money or with influence who don't care how they treat people they deem beneath them. Dangerous people with nothing to lose. Desperate people who have given up on any other solution.

And all of them enabled by people who should have the ability and the duty to help instead looking the other way out of greed or showing indifference and apathy as a general principle.

[ The slums were a dangerous place to spend your growing up years, and she had learned a lot of things to fear that go bump in the night, from her own experience and that of others... But she doesn't really want to explain any of that to the kid, so she redirects a bit in an attempt to keep it vague. ]

"Well, they aren't as easily defined, and some times other people don't care because they don't affect them. Dangers like that... dangers like that are harder to stop."

[warofthebeasts]

Rejection. Rejection, rejection, rejection. He can feel it for what it is, the way the endless green tendrils wind around him and hold tight, the way they force him into a body that cannot do anything but allow itself to go, go where it wants him to go. He fights it, he lashes out, but what can he do when he's never learned how to be what he is at his core? Mother has never told him how to manipulate that cursed green, and the humans that had raised him had never considered he could do such a thing at all.

And the reactor helps it, as if the reactor has a mind, a puppet master pulling its strings.

Against it all, he screams. He screams the piercing, high cry of a child being tortured by his very existence. In his cocoon, at least, the raw mako does not hurt him, the Lifestream taking all of the care to shield him from it.

Or perhaps it is as it has always been: he is hardy, he can withstand. He was created for this, had endured countless hours in pods filled with the noxious substance, drowning in it but never dying because within him existed a delicate balance between Jenova and the mako. They war with one another, neither giving way, and he is in the middle of it. He doesn't want to be. He never wanted to be.

Had he a choice between his existence and death, he'd have chosen death every single time.

He doesn't want to be here! He doesn't want to be this! Leave him alone!

LEAVE ME ALONE--

But what are screams in an abyss of green? What are screams in a pod full of mako, mako in his mouth, his eyes, his lungs? And what are screams in a lonely room with nothing but a withering plant for companionship and the command to speak, but speak to what? The Planet, Professor Hojo says with a snarl, a too-tight grasp on his wrist jerking him toward that poor dying plant that he's supposed to make bloom again like she can--

He's so lost, so confused. All he had ever wanted was to be normal or to be dead, and no one will ever allow him to be either. They just want him to perform for them, to live up to their expectations, to kill and be their pet monster. He has never been a person in his life.

And now someone or something threatens to drag him back into that life and the Lifestream so willingly hands him over to them without a single care for what the boy-turned-man wants!

Leave me alone, leave me alone, leave me alone, leave me alone, leavemealoneleavemealone! Maybe if he screams it enough, someone out there might hear him, someone out there might grant him that smallest mercy. He'd never been a demanding creature! He'd always done what everyone asked of him without complaint!

[And maybe, if he ever found out that it was Director Tuesti who had been unfortunate enough to intercept his cries, he might apologize because he is a Good Boy.]

Abruptly, everything stops. He stops, the screaming stops, the dragging and pulling and pushing stops. For a moment, brief, there is nothing, and he wants to stay there in that nothingness because at least there, it is peaceful, it is quiet, it is calm. Nothing hurts him here. Nothing spits cruel words designed to cut him, nothing turns a blade on him, nothing shoots him with bullets. There are no needles, no scientists poking and prodding and data being taken.

It is...silent...

The silence breaks. Air hits his skin, noise assaults his ears. There are people and hard metal beneath his body that he is only dimly aware of. For a time, he flounders in his own mind, confused and disoriented because suddenly he is not where he wants to be, and in his confusion, he is not with his body. It is still, pale, soaked in mako, with no heartbeat, no breaths.

And briefly, Sephiroth considers leaving it that way. He considers seizing this moment as his opportunity to have what he wants. Who would miss him? His friends are all dead, and even if they were not, they had made it clear that he was nothing to them. ShinRa had washed their hands of him, he knew without knowing, because that was their way.

But... Someone touches him. The touch is gentle but firm, and it searches for life within that cold shell of a body. The voices are familiar, too, the familiar voices of people he had once cared for.

Had they come for him? Was it them who had pulled him out?

And he wants to see them.

His body twitches. The breath gurgles as he draws it in, his heart stuttering as it struggles to restart. His back arches and all he feels is pain flooding through ever inch of him as he returns to himself.

[ofduskorofdawn]

Her uniform jacket had been a necessary sacrifice. She had needed it to wipe the mako away from his face, neck, and chest so that she could to her work, if it was necessary. It was a delay she hadn't liked—and certainly as it doesn't seem like he's breathing—but it was one that could not be avoided.

After all, whatever the hell she just witnessed happen with Tseng, she's fairly certain she would not be so fortunate. [ That she will consider at some later point, because what the hells— ]

So she had worked quickly to remove his coat and wipe away what she could of the mako—until she had felt that first telltale sting as it started to seep through to where her hand held the jacket, and she cast it away with a hiss.

There was nothing else for it but to start her work and hope for the best.

She had pressed two fingers to his carotid... shifted around a bit, just in case...

Nothing.

She takes the penlight from her shirt pocket and checks for light reactivity...

Nothing.

"Come on... Come on, please...." she mutters to herself, and she isn't sure if she's asking him or some higher power she hasn't tried speaking to for two decades, at least.

"A— ri... ?"

Tseng's voice is strained and broken still, his breaths uneven, and she doesn't like that rattle she hears, but he had told her to look at Sephiroth first, and she has and she can't find a pulse. There's nothing, and she knows that he's asking her for the update, for Sephiroth's status, because—by the look of him—it's all he can do to manage the question, much less to sit up and see for himself, but she can't get the words out.

She can't bring herself to say the words that she knows will shatter him all over again when she can already feel her own heart breaking despite the fact that she was the one who had said that the least they could do was properly bury him.

Because, she had tried to tell herself to expect the worst.

The same way she had when her father sat her down with such grave sadness that she knew something was terribly wrong before he ever told her that Uncle Vinny wouldn't be there for Christmas after all, or ever again.

The same way that she had when two men in dark suits just like her dad and Uncle Vinny wore approached the door of her childhood home to inform them that her father wouldn't be coming home again.

The same way she had when she realized that she had no choice but to abandon any hopes for her future to keep her little brother safe.

The same way she had anytime the "Turk down" sounded over the comms and she knew that somebody wasn't making it back from a mission.

The same way she had when Tseng walked into their home that night, pale as a ghost with bloodshot eyes and she knew it was something terrible before he managed to tell her that something had gone horribly wrong in Nibelheim.

But it doesn't matter how many times she's tried to prepare herself for the worst case scenario, it doesn't help. It never makes it hurt any less when the scenario is established as reality, and here she is with the words caught in her throat, her chest tight as she tries to keep back the tears and she can't, she can't, she can't—

"What—?"

This time the voice belongs to Reeve, still somewhat breathless but sounding leaps and bounds better than when last he spoke.

Yet that is not the first thing she observes, that Reeve sounds a bit recovered. Perhaps because she's too busy reacting to the same thing he had: the previously still and lifeless form suddenly making a sound just before he seems almost to seize.

In wide-eyed amazement, the despair threatening to consume her is tossed aside just like her uniform jacket, immediately and without a thought, her entire focus snapped to her training.

His first breath sounds like there's fluid in his throat, and she launches into action once more. Grabbing his arm, she brings it up across his chest and then turns him onto his side, careful to support his head and neck when she does so. With him in the recovery position, she's already moving—grabbing Tseng's discarded jacket in the process—to place herself where he can see her, if he opens his eyes.

"Sephiroth? It's Ariana. Can you hear me?" she questions as she gets Tseng's coat wrapped around him as best as she can to help ward off the chill. One hand moves to rest on the back of his neck, trying to make certain his airway is properly established, while the other checks once more for his pulse.

[ofduskorofdawn]

I put it in tags on my last post, but I realized it should probably be its on post as well.

So far as this blog's canon goes, Reno will forever be the one who dropped the plate.

This is for a few reasons.

That's how it was in OG, and that's the Reno on this blog. It is a key story point for him.

To that point, dropping the plate is a BIG THING for Reno. And no matter how he tries to play it off in the moment as being callous and rubbing it in AVALANCHE's faces... it wrecks him. This is the point at which, with this blog canon, he starts drinking more heavily [ something that, again with this blog's canon, worries the hell out of Ari because their mother was an alcoholic and a drug addict ] and he starts smoking more. He was accustomed to having a few drinks to unwind or smoking a cigarette every now and then... but this really pushes him over that edge. He doesn't quite venture into full-blown alcoholic, but he toes right up to that line, and he drank himself into blackout more than once when he finally didn't have an excuses or distractions to Not Deal With It. It haunts him. The people he knows from living in the slums, the people who might have been killed in it, haunt him in his sleep. The nightmares/night terrors can be horrific.

As bad as dropping the Plate and the subsequent guilt was for Reno, consider that OG Rude, whatever else, is incredibly soft-hearted. If Rude had dropped the Plate instead? It would have absolutely killed him, one way or another. [ Which is perhaps why he's so patient with Reno through the worst of the spiral. Because, on some level, consciously or not, he's grateful that it wasn't him who did it, and he owes it to his partner to look after him in the fallout of that. ] And if it had gone that way, with Rude dropping the Plate and events unfolding from there, Reno would never have recovered from that either—the conclusion to it or the guilt of not having been able to do anything/not having been the one to drop the Plate instead.

This is not to say that Reno is heartless. As mentioned above, clearly, dropping the Plate has an effect on him. He will carry this with him for the rest of his life, even once he gets to a point where he can pretend otherwise. The only difference has to do with Reno and Rude's personalities and how they carry their guilt. Reno drags it all behind him and it only catches up to him on a downward slope; Rude carries it like Atlas up on his shoulders and every step, every breath, would get him that much closer to being crushed beneath it.

[unorcadox]

[ofduskorofdawn]

@warofthebeasts continued from here

"But..."

The boy jumps a little at another rumble of thunder, and he shrinks himself down further, his expression an equal mix of shame and genuine fear.

He hadn't yet gotten used to how the storms around the ShinRa building always sounded so close, as if he could open a window and lightning would come in.

The realistic part of him knew he was safe.

But he is only a child.

"...It's...childish... to be afraid of storms... but it sounds so close..."

@ofduskorofdawn

To see the kid so jumpy is a rarity, to be certain. She suspects it was not something he had necessarily intended to be observed, considering how she had just happened across him. But happened across him she did, and, as usual, she couldn't just look the other way.

[ He's just a kid. He shouldn't have to feel like he has to deal with these things alone. ]

"Hey, it's not childish. Hells, I've seen grown adults who are scared of storms. The fact is, anybody with any sense is afraid of something. It's just a matter of what. That's just how our brains are wired. You could say that it's a survival mechanism."

"Me? I hate the dark... Well, no, that's not exactly right... Maybe it's more that I hate the unknown of the dark, not being able to see what's in it."

It hadn't always been a fear of hers, but... Sometimes fears aren't innate; they're learned.

"So for me, it's things that go bump in the night. For you, it's storms. I don't know, but yours seems pretty reasonable, if you ask me."

[warofthebeasts]

He is wary in the way he watches her, not unlike an animal cornered, but she isn't wrong. He is trying. He hasn't attacked her or anyone else in their home.

She isn't wrong that he can't possibly know more about what she knows than she herself. How can he? He isn't her. He isn't a reader of minds.

Sephiroth doesn't say anything. His gaze lowers to her offered hand, and it's a bit childlike in the way he unfolds himself and inches over. Instead of taking her hand, he settles himself to sit next to her, close enough to feel the warmth and kindness of Ari's presence.

Then he takes her hand, a little bit hesitant.

A moment later and he lets himself lean against her, shoulder-to-shoulder. He still doesn't speak but he is calm and and almost peaceful. The ache in his head has begun to ease, slowly loosening its claws.

It still hurts. It always hurts.

"I believe you," he whispers finally. "I trust you." He wishes he could say that he loves them, as well; it isn't that he doesn't. The words won't leave his tongue no matter how he wishes they would.

[ofduskorofdawn]

The progression is slow and deliberate. It is a conscious choice he makes to move closer... and then to take her hand... and then to lean against her. She does not take a single one of those choices for granted.

When he takes her hand, she gives a gentle squeeze, a steady return pressure so that he knows she is holding his hand. She is making a conscious decision, too, and what she chooses is to reinforce her words with actions.

She is here. She is here for him.

When he speaks again at last... She swallows hard and releases a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, expression softening all the more.

He does not say those words in return, but the words that he does say tell every bit as much. Maybe more.

I believe you. I trust you.

What more could she ask than that from one whose faith and trust had been broken so many times and in so many ways? To hear that he trusts her even so, despite the harsh lessons that those at ShinRa have endeavored to teach him, whether in instances that the object was such instruction... or when, instead, he was simply the collateral of some larger picture. Despite it all, still he says that he trusts her.

The words that he can say are enough.

They mean the world to her.

"Then please believe me when I say that you will get through this. We're going to get through this. Together. I know that Tseng and I can't just make it go away for you, and I know that there's only so much we can do, regardless of how much I wish it were otherwise... But please remember that whatever we can do, we're here."

"You can tell us what's going on, when something is wrong, what you need. You are not a burden. You are not an inconvenience. You are important, and you are loved. You don't have to go through this alone, and we don't want you to go through it alone, okay?"

[ofduskorofdawn]

@warofthebeasts continued from here

The room is dimly lit, though the faint light that creeps around and through the curtain catches in the vivid green of his eyes. He's perched himself on the bed against the furthest wall, knees drawn to his chest; what had set him off this time?

How long until they tire of this monster they dragged out of the abyss that only vaguely resembles the boy they had loved?

A hand tangles absently through his own hair.

"You know that isn't true."

@ofduskorofdawn

"Is that so?" she questions, one eyebrow rising as she regards him.

"And how is it that you know what I know more than I do, hm?"

Her voice is different than the almost performative one she uses when not here, in their home, when not alone with her family. It is softer here, lacking its usual wry sharpness, a soft warmth evident instead. Were he to look at her, he would find that there is no anger in her expression, no exasperation.

What there is... is a small, sad smile, a smile weighted by all with which she knows he is struggling... She cannot fully comprehend it—lacking that particular life experience as she is—but she can see the toll that it takes on him, and she knows that there is only so much that she can do to help.

But if trying to right even this one misconception is it, then attempt to right it she shall.

Carefully, deliberately, she walks from where she had been leaned against the doorframe leading into his room, and she takes a seat on the edge of his bed, as though he was still that child, as though the years had not passed—unkind to all of them and even crueler still to him—since those days when that sad, lost boy first had found a place in Tseng's heart and then in her own.

[ Time makes no difference to a mother's heart. ]

"Because what I know, is that you... are trying your absolute best to navigate an incredibly difficult situation, and that's..."

A sigh and she shakes her head, trying to find the right words.

"... Having moments or days that are worse than others? That's normal. And having those moments or days—or more, even? That does not mean that you don't deserve to be loved."

She does not reach out to take his hand then, so much as she would like to give that comfort, but she does set her hand upon the bed halfway between where they both sit, upturned in a silent offer. As ever, she will leave it to him to accept or decline, on his own terms.

"And where Tseng and I are concerned, it changes nothing. We will always care for you. We will always love you. That's a promise."