#rpsephirothmasterpost

Sephiroth will be laying in a hospital bed, head on the pillow. He watches the screen of the television at a 90 degrees angle because he’s not strong enough to turn the television on it’s side. He’s not strong enough to get out of bed, or strong enough to grab the remote to switch of the television. The last has to do with with his ego, because he keeps hoping someone in the crowd will shout Sephiroth lives! 

But no one speaks up and he tosses over to stare at the ceiling while he listens to the sobs of thousand fans. The light of the television casts colours on the ceiling and when a bone-thin-from-stress Professor Hojo walks in he closes his eyes to pretend he’s asleep . 

There will be a memorial statue of him, at which people will place flowers. 

Sephiroth’s too old to be shipped off to a foster family in Banora, so instead of a foster family, he gets a house. Head Scientist Professor Hojo’s reputation gained a big dent, because Genesis and Angeal still function. Doctor Hollander becomes director of the Science Department. Sephiroth is shipped off to Banora where the rejects go. Much to his dismay (though he sees the necessity), Professor Hojo joins him. 

Rehabilitation at a Banoran farm house. The neighbourhood is kind because the ‘charming poor old man’ with his ‘poor ill boy that never goes outside’ are slightly richer than average and boost the local economy. And yes, they do look familiar, don’t they? Yet I can’t tell where I’ve seen their faces before.

There are two local nurses that help the old Professor move Sephiroth around when the ex-General doesn’t have the strength to go to the bathroom himself. 

The Professor helps him sit up, move his knees, learn to walk again. Those are short distances at first, to the table and back to the bed, then to the bench outside and back to the bed. 

The lady next door, twenty years younger, finds Hojo absolutely charming, and is glad to help the laundry. When the woman gets too close, Sephiroth glares at her, or starts moaning painfully. It always works.

Things get better. At early walks, Sephiroth finally sees the places Angeal and Genesis talked about. The Banoran trees, the Round Rock, the cliffs, the strange animals that don’t really do harm.

…-until an orange hedgehog shoots his spikes and Sephiroth’s entire arm is covered in needles and he’s painfully reminded to how weak he is. 

He can’t wear leather because no one sells leather jackets. He must stay warm at all times -another stupid novelty- and often forgets his shirt, or always-too-short-jacket. The darling neighbour gives him a red scarf (to get on his good side) because “it goes with your eyes.”He smiles at her and requests if she can make it twice as long so he can wrap it around his shoulders too. 

At walks, in summer and winter, the long ends of the scarf flutter after him. 

The professor injects him with Mako on a regular basis, and they learn Sephiroth has grown immune to it; meaning he cannot become SOLDIER cadet either. He applies to become advisor, his application is denied. 

Sephiroth is violent. He has learnt to move around a little, but when rehabilitation takes long, or when he’s suddenly reminded of his humanity, he despairs. At first Hojo manages to keep Sephiroth in check, but that stops when the younger gets stronger. He breaks plates, furniture, and Hojo’s left arm. The last fracture is only an accident, not because Sephiroth intended to. They ‘make up’, the best way either understand that expression. Despite everything, the scientist remains by his side. 

When Angeal and Genesis are in town, Sephiroth isn’t told after a day after their arrival. He sits down on a fence and awaits them. The encounter is awkward and uncomfortable for all of them. The three of them pluck apples. Angeal and Genesis race to fill their cards, becoming blurs, and Sephiroth has trouble filling his basket to save his pride. Angeal stiffens every time their eyes eyes meet, but Genesis is welcoming and kind - if not slightly self-satisfied. When Sephiroth calls him out on it, Angeal puts a hand on Genesis’ arm and asks kindly if Sephiroth is perhaps a little tired. 

Apparently the Great Red General doesn’t hug, which is fine, because Sephiroth’s not fond of hugging anyway. Too much physical contact.

When Sephiroth learns to go to stores on his own, he sees they no longer sell silver shampoo he’d been begging Hojo for when they first moved to Banora. He picks the Puppy Power Ultra Black instead. They got rid of the fragrances, they have a new scent, Professor Hojo said a long time ago. The Puppy Power smells oddly like the ‘new formula Sephiroth-shampoo’ and at the checkout he wonders for how long the Professor has been re-filling the same silver bottle.

That was a small break of trust, but enough to make him realize he doesn’t want to live together with him any longer. He becomes less dependant. He moves to Junon, the Professor moves next door - again, much to his dismay.

His diplomas in biochemistry, physics, and history (among others) allow him to get a part-time job as a scientist at the various hazardous mako reactors: he’s immune anyway.

When facing AVALANCHE, he learns he’s quite good with a gun. A day later he sends an application to the Turks, but they deny him, possibly due the fresh wound in his tummy. His inability to cope with his own bodily slowness, and his skills of human interaction didn’t help him quality either. 

- "We are you going?"

"We're going to go far away. We're going to have a baby," he said. "It's another project, but of a different kind."

Sephiroth's eyes grew wide and for a moment the Professor thought he'd panic, throw a fit. If he'd have to stun Sephiroth, the farewell would be spoiled. 

But the child raised his hands and slapped then against his own cheeks. His mouth opened in a silent "oh!" and he said: "But it takes years to make a baby!"

- "Who told you that?"

- "Doctor Hojo did. He said I was a project of years."

"Ah," Gast smiled. He tapped his fingertip on Sephiroth nose. "Yes, but you are special."

Sephiroth looked at his nose, cross-eyed.

The professor lopsided smile appeared again. "Hands down."

Sephiroth put his hands down. His tummy stuck forward more than the rest of his body, and he stood constantly in a curve, like children do.

- "The child we will be making will take a little less time: just three-quarters of a year."

"39 weeks," Sephiroth calculated quickly, because he didn't work with seasons, because he had hardly been outside.

The cleverness of the boy's mind had long ceased to surprise the Professor. "That's right."

- "And then you will come back?"

"After a little longer," he said. A deep sigh followed. "I don't know. The baby has to grow up until it's as tall and strong as you are. I might never come back but-"

- "Never?"

"-but you can come visit me when you are taller than Doctor Hojo."

Sephiroth's mouth tightened. 

- "Boy, will you give me one last hug?"

Sephiroth reluctantly fell into his arms. He had no weight. He was small and breakable and warm. He was a creature that defied the laws of nature. A young, real, living creature made of Jenova and science. He loved Sephiroth -loved him so so much- that he wanted a child for his own that he could call his own: because in Specimen S003 he saw traces of doctor Lucrecia, and he wanted to see his Ifalna back in their own child. Seven weeks pregnant, and it already made them giggly.

He hugged the boy again. He could tell he didn't like it very much, but the prospect of not being able to see the professor again made Sephiroth grab his coat tighter.

Interesting. The subject -... his mind started, ready to scribble down notes of Sephiroth's progress, but then there were tears in his eyes and he couldn't think at all. "Study hard,"

Sephiroth nodded, tried to free himself. 

"Listen to Doctor Hojo. Be gentle with the earth. Try to discover your power as Ancient, will you, son?"

"Son?" Sephiroth repeated. He cut himself loose and stared up at Gast - who realized his mistake.

"An expression of endearment," he said. "I am not your father." He stood up.

"Who is my father?" Sephiroth grabbed his sleeve. The child looked up to him.

- "That is.... not for me to tell you."

- "Please?" 

Gast felt his throat constrict more. 

- "Who is my mother?"

The scientist said nothing. 

"Professor, please? I'll name all the great Streams of the six continents if you tell me!"

"I'm sure you can name them by now. Hey-" Gast ran a hand through his hair, and the bangs flopped back. "If you continue to grow your hair out like this... then maybe one day it will be as long as your mother's was... That is all I can tell you."

Sephiroth's eyes grew possibly bigger than they already were. His bottom lip grew broad and curled into a pout. His tiny chin gained dents. He looked the personification of sadness. The boy never cried, which was a distinct advantage or Gast would have swept him off his feet and taken him along. He couldn't, of course. He couldn't.

But as the child tugged his sleeve, oh, he wanted to.

"I'm going now."

"No..."

"Sephiroth, let go of my sleeve. I have to go now."

"No." 

This time the voice had sounded more insistent. Sephiroth's tears were gone, his face had smoothed out. There were no lights in his green eyes, and this didn't sound like an outbreak, or tantrum, but like the start of an assault. He now became a manipulator, testing the boundaries of what he was capable of doing.

Gast got scared. 

"Sep-" his throat constricted. The words stopped. He couldn't talk.

Doctor Hojo wasn't ready for this. He was too young. He would need a whole team of people to specialize in Sephiroth, and anyone who would get too close ought to be assigned a different position. 

He could take Seph- No.

But...

No, he couldn't.

He touched the small hand and rubbed his thumb over Sephiroth's fist. If he pulled now, the specimen would pull back. Who knew what fight they'd have. Without backup, who knew who'd win?

He needed to leave instructions for Simon. Or Hojo would be all alone versus... Sephiroth. 

He swallowed. He tried a smile, which trembled. "I have to clean the labs and make to-do lists for everyone so they can continue working without me."

Sephiroth's eyes remained cold.

Gast was sweating now, and ran his fingers over the tiny fist again. He had to get his coat sleeve free, and leave this room, as soon as possible. This was dangerous.

"Why don't you make your own to-do list?"

The silver-haired boy in the plastic shirt looked at him. Then he closed his eyes slowly, and turned his head. He looked at the papers behind him, in the corner on the floor. On the sheets were calculations scribbled that a boy his age wasn't supposed to know. 

The creepy yet innocuous child turned around. The lab-coat sleeve slipped through his hand.  

Gast sighed in relief. 

Sephiroth walked to the study-corner, Gast walked backward to the door. 

Sephiroth sat down. He rocked from left to right. "Where should I start?"

Gast's keycard kept missing the door's scanner, but he did not have the courage to turn around. "Start by writing down the topic," he smiled. "Just like in a lab report... but then one in advance. Experiment. By the end of tomorrow, see if you finished your list."

"Topic." Sephiroth decided. 

Beep. The door clicked, gave way. Gast hurried out.

Sephiroth reached for a pencil. It was the last thing Gast saw of him before the door to the specimen container-room shut. 

"And?" Doctor Ifalna said. 

Gast jumped. His heart shot up to his throat. He whirred around, stared at the woman beside him. Then all tension left him. He bowed forward and put a hand on his heart. "You scared me."

"I'm sorry."

Gast shook his head. "I'm sorry. Don't go in. I triggered one of his moods." 

"But he looks so sweet..." she said, and put a hand on the glass. 

Sephiroth picked up two pencils and held then in front of his face to see which tip was sharper. 

"Take a good look, and let's go. We won't see him for a long time."

"A long time..." Ifalna echoed softly. 

.

.

.

Sephiroth remained by the fire of the beach. He glanced at the swimming man, and for a moment he was distracted by the way the water clung to the black hair, the open mouth when he gasped for air after a dive, and water running over the naked skin in the flashes of faraway lightning. Vincent Valentine looked... not bad, not bad at all. "Valentine. Return, or soon I'll need a cold bath."

Walking was as much a difficulty alright; although, it was nothing I had not managed before. Four glasses of beer in a dingy bar where your one night stand can never seem to keep their hands to themselves: you get the picture.

Bless Minerva the beach is not too far. Had it lay at a greater ditance, I might have found myself at his mercy now. Claret irises were to be stolen back occasionally even when both oculus were promptly brought to full shutter at mother's salty embrace.

Both swimming experience really could have been pleasant considering the lack of the beach's glaring sun. Still, those were not decisions opted by my own design.

There were his eyes on my back.... What were you thinking....?

Breaking the surface, my breathe formed a white hazy mist against night's blacken shade as my digits drifted up to comb back the raven locks.

The cold was a reprieve of sort, a distraction. It has not healed.

I exhaled a sharp air, shook my head.

"Come down then. You might need one anyway, considering."

Valentine was as beautiful as a mermaid in the waves. His long hair clung to his body and he could have been part of a commercial if only he'd been up for it. Sephiroth remembered combing through it, braiding it, in the night both of them had fallen asleep in the same bed and woken up nose-to-nose. Sephiroth got up, and -wearing all his dry clothes- he sauntered to the beach until the waves lapped over his feet. There was a light drizzle falling from the dark sky and turned his back to the wind to shield his eyes from the droplets. He looked at Vincent as he dived down for another wave, then re-surfaced. Unfair, how gorgeous he was. He huffed, folded his arms and lift his chin. "Vincent! How's the hard-on coming along?"

Vincent Valentine would have resented that unvoiced remark, himself being compared to a meremaid. He would have been truly so. Being pretty/beautiful is not the same with being constantly told so, or mistaken when you are actually a man.

Sometime the mistake occurs even when that Valentine was still having his suit on, or still bore the same 184 cm height he often carried -- how unfortunate, veld said, snickering.

Having broken the surface, I fell back. Letting the wave lap at my form and carried me where it will. The light drizzle falling from the sky may have caused fine raven fringes to comb more frequently across scintillating orbs of crimson shading, but it was nothing as dire as the possiblity of having my form mulitated beyond recognition sometime back then. I raised both arms toward my face. The digits of my left hand would brush lightly across the still bruised lower tiers before I rub both hands over my face and back toward the slender nape, ...

-- there, exhaled a soft sigh.

"Tolerably well enough. You could come in and find out if you are so curious."

There, form would turn, meeting calmly his gaze before with a small shrug of shoulder, I slowly found my way back to the shore, only stop when I reached the level where I could safely walk. The waves lap softly at my nape and collarbone.

Sephiroth sighed. He remained standing for a minute, then undressed and walked into the sea. He moved to Vincent, looked at him, said nothing.

Frankly, I has not expected that.

Moreorless, I was expecting more of a snide remark from him.

So when he started stripping his now /dry/ cloth, claret irises would follow closely his move. Only when he started threading through the tides that such reality truly began to settle. Have you listen to a song that you thought you did know its rhyme? Soon, you begin to hum the tone you thought was right to it, even when sometimes it was entirely not.

Forward I took a step. Having came to him, we stood face to face. Funny that it should be noted now how white my breathe is in this near dark. It's almost as white as his skin, the smooth ivory expanse now tentatively mapped with my fingers, tenuous limbs as cold as ice in comparison to his heat.

Forward, I leaned in to place upon his lips a chaste kiss... and there, head would bow -- temple resting on temple and hand resting against cheek, shuttered lashes stole Gaia of her crimson moons.

"...Sorry."

On screen: 

Sephiroth walks in. 

"…."

"My…apologies. I didn’t quite realize you were not interested in partners." (aka men)

"Not with psychopaths who’ve hurt the only people I call family."

"Join my family, then: More people. Less easily hurt."

A sharp bark of laughter was his only response.

"I’m sorry, that was a joke, right? The only thing your family is good for is target practice."

Less easily hurt was right, those damn remnants were fast, too fast. No amount of haste spells or training would ever be enough to help her catch up to them long enough to beat any one of them into a bloody pulp. Elena had been lucky to land a headbutt on Yazoo not long ago.

"You still need the practise," Sephiroth said. "If you want, you and I could train together. One on one."

”..Practice….”

Her voice dropped to a low tone, ember orbs narrowing as she moved closer to glare up at him. “Alright, Sephiroth…let’s do a little training now….” A grenade was seemingly produced out of thin air and she tossed it up before catching it again.

"We’ll play army….You lay down and stay really still….." One slender digit hooked around the pin. "And I’ll blow the hell out of you."

“Blow me until your jaw’s permanently dislocated, Turk. I take up your offer. Get started by unzipping my pants with your teeth.”

"Sorry, I’m not interested in contracting GeostigHerpes…you can just continue to get your masamune ‘polished’ by one of your other SOLDIER buddies."

"I wish I could say the same to you, but alas… No one wants a girl who bites.”

"Please, there are plenty of fans of biting." Herself being one of them but that was beside the point. "If we’re done here you can leave, I have work to do."

Otherwise she was going to open fire.

Sephiroth glanced from her mouth to his crotch and back. “Get on with it then.”

The pointed look didn’t go unnoticed. Elena bared her teeth at him, spitting out in a venomous tone.

"Leave. Now."

Sephiroth lift one eyebrow, but said nothing. With a lift of a hand he turned, and walked away.  It was so refreshing to run into someone that wasn’t a fan. He should visit her more often. “Thank you for your time.”

A relieved sigh was exhaled as he turned and she sunk into her chair, slowly placing the grenade back in her arsenal. At least a fight had been avoided.

When he spoke, she ‘shooed’ him away with a wave of her hand and dove right in to the paperwork that was piled high on her desk.

[End of thread]