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ladybug_archiveI finally got around to watching a Saiyuki episode to see if I could recognize Homura's Japanese voice as being the same as Sephiroth's. I recognized it on his first line. X3 Even though I watch the English version of AC more than the Japanese.
Here's an RP blurb that's been 3/4 done for a while. Finally I fixed it up the way I wanted it. There may be a follow-up blurb. XD
This is based in the RP universe with Aubrie, so there's some different details. One is that Cloud will be alone in taking care of Sephiroth after bringing him back from the cave. Well, save for Zack and Aerith, of course, but they're not the focus here.
In my tired mind, I still love the scene of them falling down and getting tangled up. XD **goes off giggling.**
Cloud was not certain what to think as he pulled into the driveway of the home he and Sephiroth had been sharing for the past months. For the first time in a while, he was not returning alone. But did he want his enemy back here with him?
He could feel the other's body leaning against his back, more weakened than the former SOLDIER would care to admit. In his mind, Cloud once again saw the reason for that. The fight against Jenova, Sephiroth defeating her fairly, her suddenly whispering the word that encased him in stone. . . . It had been weeks since then.
The first night when he had gone back to the abode, it had seemed so oddly quiet. But he had told himself that it was welcome, that he did not care that Sephiroth had been effectively killed. The silver-haired man had deserved it, Cloud had thought bitterly. Yet he knew that the other was not the same, crazed man who had brought so much grief upon him, his friends, and all of Gaia. And it had been a horrible way for anyone to die.
He had slept restlessly that night, though it had been a dreamless slumber as far as he had known. But two nights later, the nightmares had started. Sometimes Sephiroth's death played out exactly as it had happened, with Cloud standing by and watching in disbelief. Sometimes Cloud ran to him, grabbing onto his desperately thrashing hands as if he could pull the other free of the stone that was covering him. That resulted in Cloud himself being frozen as well. And still other times, he again stood by and watched, but with dark satisfaction and cruelty.
He always awakened from those dreams in a cold sweat.
Now Sephiroth slowly pushed himself back from the other, looking at him questioningly. He did not speak, but as Cloud glanced over his shoulder, he could see the queries. Why were they just sitting there? Did Cloud regret that Sephiroth had been freed? Did Cloud wish that the other had remained set in stone?
And the blond quickly looked away. He did not want to be faced with those inquiries. He had been asking himself those same things ever since Set had agreed to release Sephiroth from his prison.
He had only seemed to grow more angry as the days had gone on. Zack and Aerith, in spirit form, had come to the house and had tried repeatedly to talk to him, to get him to open up about what was wrong. He had refused their efforts at first. But those two had such a frustrating way of getting right to the heart of the problem and bewildering him. They were too perfect for each other.
"Look, Cloud," Zack had told him, "we know you're upset about what happened to Seph. Yeah, you can't admit it, but it's obvious!"
"Even if I was, which I'm not, there's nothing that can be done about it," Cloud had retorted.
"You'll never know if you don't try," Aerith had answered lightly.
"Try what?!" Cloud had yelled. But that time, he had not received an answer.
That was when he had gone back to the cave. It had not eased his confusion any, and if anything, it had only made him angrier. But he had felt as though he belonged there, that it was a punishment for not being able to save someone else. Even though he hated Sephiroth.
He looked up as Sephiroth slowly began to climb off the motorcycle. He was determined to prove that he was strong enough to get up himself. But he was still vastly underestimating how much the experience had drained him, both physically and mentally. Or maybe he knew, but still wanted to deny it anyway. He would do that.
And he proves he knows how to act like an idiot! Cloud thought in vexation as the older man stumbled and pitched forward. Immediately the blond dove off of the vehicle, lunging forward to grab his adversary. He managed to snatch Sephiroth's right arm, hoisting it over his own shoulders, but he was not expecting all of the other's weight to slam into him. Cloud's swift actions had only made Sephiroth lose his balance all the more, and now they were both falling.
Sephiroth gave a weak curse under his breath as he collapsed to the grass with Cloud's smaller form partially under him. This was ridiculous! He should have more willpower than this. Instead he could not even stand on his own. It was a horrible feeling of helplessness. And though he did not hate Cloud, the other was certainly one of the people to whom he most abhorred showing such a weakness.
Cloud glowered, reaching up with a mostly free hand to bat away a long silver lock that had fallen across his face. "I told you you wouldn't be able to get up without me to help you!" he burst out. Of course, if their situation had been reversed, he would have behaved the same as Sephiroth. But that was not what he wanted to think about. The mere thought that they were alike at all disgusted him.
And now they were in such an awkward position. Their arms and legs were tangled up with each other, as was Cloud's black cape and Sephiroth's black coat. Sephiroth's hair kept drifting into Cloud's face as the duo tried to remove themselves from this accidental pretzel, and as Cloud attempted to push his nemesis away, his fingers became twisted around the black suspender straps.
"If anyone sees us like this," Sephiroth grunted, "they're going to think we're . . ."
"Don't even say it!" Cloud snapped. Finally succeeding in getting his arms free, with the other's very willing assistance, he untwisted his legs from Sephiroth's and sat up on the grass. "In fact, don't ever say anything at all."
"Is that really what you want, Cloud?" Sephiroth responded. He rolled onto his side, too weary to even try to sit up.
"Yeah," Cloud muttered, drawing his knees up to his chest and laying his hands across them. "I don't want to hear you, or see you. I just want you to go away and not come back like you always do."
A brief silence. "Then why did you allow Set to release me?"
Cloud snorted. "Do you think I could go against the will of a god?"
"So he wanted to set me free?"
". . . No. Not really."
Cloud leaned forward, staring down at the grass. "He acted like maybe he wouldn't. So I asked him if he was going to." He shrugged. "He asked me if I wanted him to. I didn't know what to tell him." He glanced over at his enemy, a look of irritation spreading over his features. "I think he freed you because he wanted to see us fight. He knows I don't like you."
Sephiroth met his gaze, his green eyes impassive. "But you did ask about my fate," he mused. "You wouldn't have had to."
"No I didn't. Maybe I shouldn't have." Cloud looked away again.
"Maybe." Sephiroth continued to quietly observe him. He could imagine his crazed self being angry and disgusted over his enemy having a part in his release. But he was not that person any more. He was angry and disgusted at himself, for ending up in such an absurd situation. And he knew that he could not have freed himself. If Cloud had not asked, Set likely would not have done anything. Though, maybe Zack would then have appeared and tried to ask for his friend's liberation. He certainly would have wanted to.
"Zack would have been unhappy if you hadn't, however."
Cloud did not look back. That was true. And . . . whether he wanted to accept it or not, he would have been unhappy with himself. He had wanted to see Sephiroth released, even if it was only so it would not be weighing continually on his mind. He did not want Sephiroth's fate on his conscience.
"Let's get inside," he muttered. "You need to rest." He gave the other a sidelong look. "Being one of Jenova's garden art pieces has got to take a lot out of you."
Sephiroth grunted. "I thought you wanted me to leave," he retorted.
Cloud sighed, shaking his head. "Come on," he said, taking hold of the older man's arm. Draping it around his shoulders, he placed his other arm around Sephiroth's waist and slowly began to stand up with him.
Sephiroth went agreeably this time, knowing that he could not stand by himself. It was vexing, but he would have to deal with it for now. He would be better soon, at least---which was more than he would've thought the previous day.
It took them several minutes to get up the stairs, and then Cloud had to help balance the taller, bigger man while unlocking the door. It swung open, granting them entry.
Slowly the blond stepped into the living room with his enemy. Sephiroth looked around, his eyes adjusting to the difference in the light. Home . . . he was finally home. It still seemed unreal, after what he had been through. And yet it was true. He reached out, touching a nearby chair for balance as much as reassurance.
"Can you make it up the stairs?" Cloud asked.
Sephiroth came back to attention, eyeing the staircase with a frown. They looked so steep. . . . And it had taken so long just to get onto the porch. . . .
"Nevermind," Cloud muttered. "There's a spare room on this floor, somewhere. Come on, I'll take you to it, if I can remember where it is."
"How reassuring," Sephiroth returned, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's the last room on the right," he supplied.
Cloud gave a curt nod, and he proceeded down the hall while still supporting the other. Sephiroth moved slowly, looking dizzy as he started to lean more on the blond. Cloud frowned in annoyance.
"Are you getting sick?" he grumbled, reaching the room and pushing the door open with his foot. As he walked in with Sephiroth, the silver-haired man pulled away carefully.
"No," he grunted.
He fumbled with the straps of his shoulder armor, struggling to get it loosened. There was only supposed to be one strip of leather on each side, so why were there suddenly five?! Half the time when he grabbed for one, he found himself holding nothing at all. And snatching at air was exasperating and vexing, especially while in Cloud's presence.
Cloud muttered something under his breath. "It's right here," he growled, finally taking Sephiroth's gloved hand and laying it against the strap. He could feel the older man bristle under his touch.
But Sephiroth said nothing, and instead fumbled with the clasp until it came loose. He had already managed to undo the other, and now he slid the armor off into a chair. Tossing the coat on top of it, he began to shuffle forward slowly to the bed. It should not be hard to lower himself onto it now. He just had to go slowly. . . .
Instead his legs flew out from underneath him. Immediately he crashed forward, landing face first into the pillow. He cursed his weakness.
Cloud let out another, frustrated sigh. Crossing the room, he bent down and swiftly undid the buckles on Sephiroth's boots. Pulling the boots off, he then straightened up and placed his hands on his hips. "Can you finish getting into bed yourself?" he asked, only half-sarcastically.
He heard a muffled grunt from the pillow. Slowly Sephiroth swung his legs onto the mattress. At the same time, a sudden unfurling sound was heard. Cloud could only blink in confusion. What was he doing?!
Black feathers fluttered to the floor. The one wing was now protruding from Sephiroth's back, suspended in midair for only a moment before it lowered. Either not knowing or caring that he had released it, he began to turn over onto his back, swinging the extra appendage to the other side of the room.
"What did you do that for?!" Cloud cried, barely ducking as it brushed past.
Sephiroth fell onto his back, blinking up at the other and obviously not comprehending. What did he mean? He was simply turning over and getting comfortable. Surely Cloud did not have a problem with that, as he seemed to have about everything else.
Cloud frowned more, leaning forward as he placed his hand on Sephiroth's forehead. A curse immediately followed.
"You are getting sick," he observed. "What is it? Statue fever?"
Sephiroth, finally registering what was being said, looked unimpressed. "Very funny, Cloud," he responded.
"Yeah," Cloud said, taking his hand away and running the fingers through his hair. "Hilarious." He slumped into an empty chair by the bed. So, apparently this was not the end of Sephiroth's difficulties. And hence, it was not the end of his own, either.
Here's an RP blurb that's been 3/4 done for a while. Finally I fixed it up the way I wanted it. There may be a follow-up blurb. XD
This is based in the RP universe with Aubrie, so there's some different details. One is that Cloud will be alone in taking care of Sephiroth after bringing him back from the cave. Well, save for Zack and Aerith, of course, but they're not the focus here.
In my tired mind, I still love the scene of them falling down and getting tangled up. XD **goes off giggling.**
Cloud was not certain what to think as he pulled into the driveway of the home he and Sephiroth had been sharing for the past months. For the first time in a while, he was not returning alone. But did he want his enemy back here with him?
He could feel the other's body leaning against his back, more weakened than the former SOLDIER would care to admit. In his mind, Cloud once again saw the reason for that. The fight against Jenova, Sephiroth defeating her fairly, her suddenly whispering the word that encased him in stone. . . . It had been weeks since then.
The first night when he had gone back to the abode, it had seemed so oddly quiet. But he had told himself that it was welcome, that he did not care that Sephiroth had been effectively killed. The silver-haired man had deserved it, Cloud had thought bitterly. Yet he knew that the other was not the same, crazed man who had brought so much grief upon him, his friends, and all of Gaia. And it had been a horrible way for anyone to die.
He had slept restlessly that night, though it had been a dreamless slumber as far as he had known. But two nights later, the nightmares had started. Sometimes Sephiroth's death played out exactly as it had happened, with Cloud standing by and watching in disbelief. Sometimes Cloud ran to him, grabbing onto his desperately thrashing hands as if he could pull the other free of the stone that was covering him. That resulted in Cloud himself being frozen as well. And still other times, he again stood by and watched, but with dark satisfaction and cruelty.
He always awakened from those dreams in a cold sweat.
Now Sephiroth slowly pushed himself back from the other, looking at him questioningly. He did not speak, but as Cloud glanced over his shoulder, he could see the queries. Why were they just sitting there? Did Cloud regret that Sephiroth had been freed? Did Cloud wish that the other had remained set in stone?
And the blond quickly looked away. He did not want to be faced with those inquiries. He had been asking himself those same things ever since Set had agreed to release Sephiroth from his prison.
He had only seemed to grow more angry as the days had gone on. Zack and Aerith, in spirit form, had come to the house and had tried repeatedly to talk to him, to get him to open up about what was wrong. He had refused their efforts at first. But those two had such a frustrating way of getting right to the heart of the problem and bewildering him. They were too perfect for each other.
"Look, Cloud," Zack had told him, "we know you're upset about what happened to Seph. Yeah, you can't admit it, but it's obvious!"
"Even if I was, which I'm not, there's nothing that can be done about it," Cloud had retorted.
"You'll never know if you don't try," Aerith had answered lightly.
"Try what?!" Cloud had yelled. But that time, he had not received an answer.
That was when he had gone back to the cave. It had not eased his confusion any, and if anything, it had only made him angrier. But he had felt as though he belonged there, that it was a punishment for not being able to save someone else. Even though he hated Sephiroth.
He looked up as Sephiroth slowly began to climb off the motorcycle. He was determined to prove that he was strong enough to get up himself. But he was still vastly underestimating how much the experience had drained him, both physically and mentally. Or maybe he knew, but still wanted to deny it anyway. He would do that.
And he proves he knows how to act like an idiot! Cloud thought in vexation as the older man stumbled and pitched forward. Immediately the blond dove off of the vehicle, lunging forward to grab his adversary. He managed to snatch Sephiroth's right arm, hoisting it over his own shoulders, but he was not expecting all of the other's weight to slam into him. Cloud's swift actions had only made Sephiroth lose his balance all the more, and now they were both falling.
Sephiroth gave a weak curse under his breath as he collapsed to the grass with Cloud's smaller form partially under him. This was ridiculous! He should have more willpower than this. Instead he could not even stand on his own. It was a horrible feeling of helplessness. And though he did not hate Cloud, the other was certainly one of the people to whom he most abhorred showing such a weakness.
Cloud glowered, reaching up with a mostly free hand to bat away a long silver lock that had fallen across his face. "I told you you wouldn't be able to get up without me to help you!" he burst out. Of course, if their situation had been reversed, he would have behaved the same as Sephiroth. But that was not what he wanted to think about. The mere thought that they were alike at all disgusted him.
And now they were in such an awkward position. Their arms and legs were tangled up with each other, as was Cloud's black cape and Sephiroth's black coat. Sephiroth's hair kept drifting into Cloud's face as the duo tried to remove themselves from this accidental pretzel, and as Cloud attempted to push his nemesis away, his fingers became twisted around the black suspender straps.
"If anyone sees us like this," Sephiroth grunted, "they're going to think we're . . ."
"Don't even say it!" Cloud snapped. Finally succeeding in getting his arms free, with the other's very willing assistance, he untwisted his legs from Sephiroth's and sat up on the grass. "In fact, don't ever say anything at all."
"Is that really what you want, Cloud?" Sephiroth responded. He rolled onto his side, too weary to even try to sit up.
"Yeah," Cloud muttered, drawing his knees up to his chest and laying his hands across them. "I don't want to hear you, or see you. I just want you to go away and not come back like you always do."
A brief silence. "Then why did you allow Set to release me?"
Cloud snorted. "Do you think I could go against the will of a god?"
"So he wanted to set me free?"
". . . No. Not really."
Cloud leaned forward, staring down at the grass. "He acted like maybe he wouldn't. So I asked him if he was going to." He shrugged. "He asked me if I wanted him to. I didn't know what to tell him." He glanced over at his enemy, a look of irritation spreading over his features. "I think he freed you because he wanted to see us fight. He knows I don't like you."
Sephiroth met his gaze, his green eyes impassive. "But you did ask about my fate," he mused. "You wouldn't have had to."
"No I didn't. Maybe I shouldn't have." Cloud looked away again.
"Maybe." Sephiroth continued to quietly observe him. He could imagine his crazed self being angry and disgusted over his enemy having a part in his release. But he was not that person any more. He was angry and disgusted at himself, for ending up in such an absurd situation. And he knew that he could not have freed himself. If Cloud had not asked, Set likely would not have done anything. Though, maybe Zack would then have appeared and tried to ask for his friend's liberation. He certainly would have wanted to.
"Zack would have been unhappy if you hadn't, however."
Cloud did not look back. That was true. And . . . whether he wanted to accept it or not, he would have been unhappy with himself. He had wanted to see Sephiroth released, even if it was only so it would not be weighing continually on his mind. He did not want Sephiroth's fate on his conscience.
"Let's get inside," he muttered. "You need to rest." He gave the other a sidelong look. "Being one of Jenova's garden art pieces has got to take a lot out of you."
Sephiroth grunted. "I thought you wanted me to leave," he retorted.
Cloud sighed, shaking his head. "Come on," he said, taking hold of the older man's arm. Draping it around his shoulders, he placed his other arm around Sephiroth's waist and slowly began to stand up with him.
Sephiroth went agreeably this time, knowing that he could not stand by himself. It was vexing, but he would have to deal with it for now. He would be better soon, at least---which was more than he would've thought the previous day.
It took them several minutes to get up the stairs, and then Cloud had to help balance the taller, bigger man while unlocking the door. It swung open, granting them entry.
Slowly the blond stepped into the living room with his enemy. Sephiroth looked around, his eyes adjusting to the difference in the light. Home . . . he was finally home. It still seemed unreal, after what he had been through. And yet it was true. He reached out, touching a nearby chair for balance as much as reassurance.
"Can you make it up the stairs?" Cloud asked.
Sephiroth came back to attention, eyeing the staircase with a frown. They looked so steep. . . . And it had taken so long just to get onto the porch. . . .
"Nevermind," Cloud muttered. "There's a spare room on this floor, somewhere. Come on, I'll take you to it, if I can remember where it is."
"How reassuring," Sephiroth returned, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's the last room on the right," he supplied.
Cloud gave a curt nod, and he proceeded down the hall while still supporting the other. Sephiroth moved slowly, looking dizzy as he started to lean more on the blond. Cloud frowned in annoyance.
"Are you getting sick?" he grumbled, reaching the room and pushing the door open with his foot. As he walked in with Sephiroth, the silver-haired man pulled away carefully.
"No," he grunted.
He fumbled with the straps of his shoulder armor, struggling to get it loosened. There was only supposed to be one strip of leather on each side, so why were there suddenly five?! Half the time when he grabbed for one, he found himself holding nothing at all. And snatching at air was exasperating and vexing, especially while in Cloud's presence.
Cloud muttered something under his breath. "It's right here," he growled, finally taking Sephiroth's gloved hand and laying it against the strap. He could feel the older man bristle under his touch.
But Sephiroth said nothing, and instead fumbled with the clasp until it came loose. He had already managed to undo the other, and now he slid the armor off into a chair. Tossing the coat on top of it, he began to shuffle forward slowly to the bed. It should not be hard to lower himself onto it now. He just had to go slowly. . . .
Instead his legs flew out from underneath him. Immediately he crashed forward, landing face first into the pillow. He cursed his weakness.
Cloud let out another, frustrated sigh. Crossing the room, he bent down and swiftly undid the buckles on Sephiroth's boots. Pulling the boots off, he then straightened up and placed his hands on his hips. "Can you finish getting into bed yourself?" he asked, only half-sarcastically.
He heard a muffled grunt from the pillow. Slowly Sephiroth swung his legs onto the mattress. At the same time, a sudden unfurling sound was heard. Cloud could only blink in confusion. What was he doing?!
Black feathers fluttered to the floor. The one wing was now protruding from Sephiroth's back, suspended in midair for only a moment before it lowered. Either not knowing or caring that he had released it, he began to turn over onto his back, swinging the extra appendage to the other side of the room.
"What did you do that for?!" Cloud cried, barely ducking as it brushed past.
Sephiroth fell onto his back, blinking up at the other and obviously not comprehending. What did he mean? He was simply turning over and getting comfortable. Surely Cloud did not have a problem with that, as he seemed to have about everything else.
Cloud frowned more, leaning forward as he placed his hand on Sephiroth's forehead. A curse immediately followed.
"You are getting sick," he observed. "What is it? Statue fever?"
Sephiroth, finally registering what was being said, looked unimpressed. "Very funny, Cloud," he responded.
"Yeah," Cloud said, taking his hand away and running the fingers through his hair. "Hilarious." He slumped into an empty chair by the bed. So, apparently this was not the end of Sephiroth's difficulties. And hence, it was not the end of his own, either.
