INDIE  --  LOW ACTIVITY  --  NERO THE SABLE --  EST.2016 Rules below the cut.

He had felt the presence, though as it didn’t draw too close, he didn’t bother putting any concern into it. Monsters were simply a part of abandoned areas such as this, and so long as they didn’t trap, circle, or attack them, he would leave them….for now.

But when Nero woke, he glanced to him, and nodded. “if you’re sure you’re strong enough, we should get moving now. We may have company soon otherwise.” he informed him. He gathered the food and drink, stowing it in the bag he’d collected, and leaving a marker, a sort of electronic device to be tracked later, to keep track of where he’d gotten to when he’d found Nero.

He stepped towards the other, then, and offered his hand. “Come on.”

There was little choice, in truth. They needed to move lest they be attacked - or so he presumed upon the mention of potential company - and he was well aware that he would be more hindrance than help in that situation. Nero was in no state to be fighting, and thus a nod was given and scarce more.

A long moment of further decision was made, eventually deciding to take the hand offered to him so to slowly stand, his legs rather unwilling to hold his lithe weight but sheer determination fought upward. A deep breath and a simplistic nod and once more was Nero ready to move, the feeling of the breeze upon his face a perfect distraction. He felt free.

𝐒𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤. Nothing in his airways except a choking burn, his eyes could not see anymore,. It’s only a split second, but time had no meaning in oblivion’s realm. The scorching touch reached and laid its fingers around his very heart, long buried despair and screams threatening to burst his skull before the pain itself did. He would’ve been overjoyed to feel the bitter embrace of the cold instead but even that died in his mind before forming into coherent thoughts. The deadly fall had been avoided, his body spat out into the unforgiving cold of the icicle region, tumbling a low cliffside for several meters until coming to a stand still on his side.

( There was a vision. Crying. Isolation. Unanswered screams for help. )

Mind frayed and body exposed to unused extremes, he forced his eyes open to the bleak expanse. How much he truly hurt, he hid as always.. “Nero?” Amber-ringed blues sought for him to no avail. ”Nero!” When sitting up, he felt his arm rebel with a jolt of pain. Injured during the landing? Or the transition through the darkness? From the upper half on, it felt numb. “Nero!” Again, a shout echoeing far through the glacial expanse. The snowfall was mild, but he couldn’t stay here. There was no doubt his brother survived, but whether he’d be immune to the elements or similarly endangered to the threat they posed to an ultimately human body remained an unanswered worry in the back of his mind. Trudging through the snow, one hand clutched around his injury, he moved. 

Cold. Nero’s lithe form could scarcely maintain body heat in such freezing temperatures, joints utterly refusing to move at the speed they usually would. He was near crippled upon his knees, violently shivering within the powder of disliked snow- teeth chattering, lips turning blue beneath his restraints. 

But he could hear his name. His gaze, though eyelids were heavy, raised up and tuning close to his senses did he eventually locate the direction in which it came. Weiss? His heart lept with hope, the Sable utterly forcing himself to his feet - the expanse of his metal wings entirely stiffened in the vulgar temperatures; joints to his very skeleton aching with ferocity. 

Determination was all that moved the Sable, of whom could scarce move through drifts of deep snow - lacking the strength. Motivation continued at the repeat of his name, this time far closer - and soon enough did he stumble upon the presence of his brother, near collapsing into the snow upon noting his survival. Relief was overwhelming. 

“Good.” Rufus led Nero out of the room, down a corridor and into an elevator. Even with the peaceable agreement between them and Rufus’s determination to offer him his trust until he betrayed it, he was still highly aware of how dangerous the other man in this confined space was. He mentally kept checking for the weight of his concealed shotgun, even if he kept his fingers from twitching for it. “Can you read impressions in the minds you probe, or just words?” Rufus inquired, curious.”

Nero’s own question came as something of a surprise. “Of course,” he immediately agreed. “You aren’t a prisoner, Nero,” he emphasized. “We will, of course, track your movements out of an abundance of precaution, but so long as you do not harm anything we have not asked you to, you’ll be free to move about as you wish. The halfway house we have set up is not far and it on the ground floor.” He smiled a little. “You can see the outside as much as you like, though if you find it too overwhelming we can make adjustments. I am quite serious about you reporting your requests. I would like to be as accommodating as possible during your transition.”

Rufus might not be able to atone for all of Shinra’s sins, but he could do what he could for the individuals who would accept his help. Gaia knew most stoutly refused it now.

Nero kept his silence as he followed the other male, his sanguine eyes distrusting as he observed the confines insides of the elevator, detesting such close places. Nero was a being of whom had grown to detest any variety of touch, any variety of closeness - and thus could do naught more than clench his jaw tightly shut and stare forwards as they moved floors. In the very least the conversation kept him occupied; 

“-Impressions, yes - sometimes thoughts entirely if one is weak to such-” It depended per person as to how deeply his darkness could slink into another’s mind, though he’d not done much of such in a long while. 

Right- so he would be able to look out of windows, he would be able to watch people come and go, he would be able to fathom his own freedom in silence and comfort. It was something he would never expect, something he could never have dreamed of - and yet he had now been given another chance at life, another chance to be useful - to repay his corrupting existence. He could be used for better instances- 

“I am certain I shall adjust-” He uttered, following words with a near silent hum. One ought to adjust easily to comforts and freedom- or so his logical mind presumed. He could learn quickly enough, and often preferred to keep his mind very active; he’d start with watching and learning of the world from the inside of the window - and go from there. 

“Do it.“ Weiss’ plea drowned out, ear-deafening noise In the back of his urgent shout, the vessel of their escape detonated. The force of it reached them, his hold loosened somewhat. He still clung, but the grip slipped. Danger amassed in an eye’s blink, debris sailing through the air threatened to hit or bury them while plummeting. Barely any thoughts of his were left to focus and steel for the daring attempt to let Nero warp him. 

He didn’t know. He expected injuries, but he didn’t know how fatal. Weiss survived contact with the dark before, but never he’d been fully submerged in it. This was something his brother always protected him from. They may just injure each other through this, or perhaps he’d simply succumb to it- there was no telling what’d come next and no time. The ground was nearing. This was it. “Now.“ Then, another explosion, a final one that ripped the entire aircraft apart and sent waves of heat and forces into all directions-

The choice to be made was one Nero had never wished to contemplate - there was but not enough time to calculate which would have the greater chance of survival. He could only think swiftly - hitting the ground at this speed would be hideous, injuries would be sustained that could lead to a painful death. His darkness - - - would either consume Weiss whole or spit him out the other side. 

“Then rest. I’m not going anywhere.” he remarked, as a promise, whether it was meant to be a comfort or a warning just depended. He didn’t need rest, not as much as most humans, so he found himself getting comfortable, settling aside the rations, and keeping watch.

His senses were well attuned, seeming to keep aware of their surroundings to assess if there was any other presences here. But, currently, he felt nothing. Nothing but the energy coming from Nero, and his own company within his vessel. Chaos seemed particularly interested, but given that interest was of no importance to Vincent, he just ignored. Once or twice, he sent out texts to update his situation, just to make sure they didn’t send out any unnecessary teams. As well, he checked on their progress with the girl. She hadn’t seemed to wake just yet, though she would fidget in her current slumber.

Vincent simply wanted answers. And he longed to see the day when the remnants of ShinRa’s damage on this world had finally died away.

There was a part of the Sable that didn’t like that Vincent was lingering - watching him like a leashed animal just in case. But he’d no choice - Nero felt the pull of sleep so strongly, his body exhausted from the trials it had been through, that there was simply no resisting the need to close his eyes and slouch against the twisted metal behind him. 

So he slept - awkwardly against the bent metal behind; soundless and motionless for quite the number of hours until he woke with a start, startled by something his darkness had picked up in the distant vicinity. Sanguine eyes blinked away sleep and regarded the other, wondering if he, too, had picked up on whatever beast was lurking. 

“Well, here won’t be your only option for much longer.” Vincent promised him, settling back as he watched the other carefully eat and drink. He glanced around the area only briefly, one arm poised on his bent knee. “Only long enough for you to gather some strength to leave this place.”

He allowed the silence to fall over them both for a time, knowing there was no need to say much more. Nero simply needed time, to eat, to gather his strength. There wasn’t much more to express, he knew the situation he was going into. So, now was simply a time to wait patiently, which Vincent was mostly well trained in doing.

Long enough to gather strength - he knew not how long that would be. He’d not been left to his own devices before, he’d not done such without the aid of being pumped full of all variety of chemicals. He could only hope the natural order of one’s body would do well enough to catch up and adjust, as he would in time. 

Leaning back against the twisted metal behind him, Nero took a moment to rest his heavy eyes and simply hum to what Vincent had said. He’d not the energy for much more - no, and despite feeling on edge at the company the Sable could do naught more than rest where he was. 

He eyes him, and speaks honestly. He nods before he says, “They may, depending on how they take my report. I won’t promise you a welcoming wagon, or absolute freedom. What I can promise you, is that if your will and intent proves to have shifted and can coexist with that of the populace, I will do what I can to assure you have a chance. Any mistreatment you may earn, I won’t stand idly for, knowing now what was involved in your past–however, if harm unto you is in reaction to harm put intentionally upon others, I will not hesitate to assist in taking you down once again.”

He sighs, taking out a water bottle for himself and taking a drink.

“However, I will report truthfully, and ensure they make the right choices that fit your choices in your course of action. If what I believe of you in this moment rings true, being quarantined will not be a lasting fate.”

He knew well, with these words, he could just be giving a deceptive Nero his way into winning his freedom to wreak havoc. But he intended to be close by, preventing Nero’s vengeful escape, were it intended to happen. So he felt it excusable to be expressing this truth here. Because he could also be speaking to a Nero that is alone, that is free and lost, and is ripe with possibility for another chance, however unique that may be for someone like him.

So his presumption and calculated possibility had been correct - he would be treated as a threat to begin with. but who could blame them? The WRO were attempting to protect the public and Nero was but one of several high profile problems of whom had caused all variety of death and destruction. Some may argue that he didn’t deserve any variety of freedom.

Regardless, Nero had no will to rebel against whatever would happen - he had been truthful when he said that he had no will to battle anyone. He would comply to whatever was poised before him, as he ought to. And if it turned out to be that he was to be incarcerated for the length of his remaining lifespan? So be it. He would still be better looked after there than he ever was within DeepGround.

Nodding, Rufus accepted that as an answer. He could hardly expect more from a man who was probably not used to being asked such a question. Especially when Rufus himself probably wouldn’t have given a much more elaborate answer. “I hope to improve on that. But unfortunately you will likely feel worse before you feel better. It will take time to wean you off the drugs even with your enhancements.”

A bit of a smile quirked Rufus’s lips. “So you shall.” Rufus wondered what that would look like, and how much blood might be involved. It was hard to imagine a person like Nero not having any mishaps along the way. Even with the best of intentions, he was a weapon that up until recently had probably only known what it was like to fire. Teaching him otherwise would likely come with a bit of collateral. Even so, it would be good to see Nero reclaim a life beyond the company. A small part of the debt Shinra owed, repaid.

“I’ll show you to your quarters then, if you’re ready. As I mentioned, it will serve as a transitionary space. A temporary home until your medical needs are met. Though you may find the environment more comfortable than some of our other housing options. You may stay as long as the space is not needed by someone else.” 

“Shall we?”

A transitional home- a home. Somewhere that would not be full of clinical instruments or chemicals, no drugs nor instruments that could easily considered torturous. No - instead there would be soft furnishings that he’d never seen before, there would be furniture, there would be a view of the outdoors - there would be no restraining straps but instead comforts. A bizarre and foreign concept but t’was one he would do his best to get a grip upon it. The Sable was adaptive. 

"I’ll follow you.” He agreed, quietly. His sanguine gaze followed the other male closely, evidently still somewhat cautious and distrusting - but of course he would be. When one had been dragged around by a leash all of their life, adjusting to the possibility of free will was difficult, in the least. 

He nods patiently. “Good.. You’ll need to be careful. I imagine your skin has been worn down after all this time. May need ointments, once we get you back to W.R.O. Headquarters.” he explained to him.

He leaned behind himself, and brought fourth the bowl of food, a soup with as few solids as possible. “If you’re ready…” he remarked, not forcing it upon him. This certainly felt strange, and it didn’t go unnoticed within him, the defiant growling of a beast with a grudge that couldn’t let go of the battles that had been had between these two, or the enemy Vincent had seen him as, the threat.

But in this moment, he saw no threat, and so he didn’t intend to treat him like one unless he deserved it.

He’s quiet for a long while, staring at the soup within his grasp  -  able to see his reflection within the surface. The sable’s mind churned with all variety of thoughts, jaw temporarily clenching. The W.R.O  -  the very beings of whom had battled the majority of his brethren back, the apparent city-wide replacement of ShinRa’s wrath - the name bought a mix of feelings.