#01A || Am I getting better? [IC: S]

[ghostofnibelheim]

[Four Seasons] Reforged

Closed Starter for the “Four Seasons” Divergent Megaverse!

Of how Project “S” (now named “Sephiroth”) and Heidegger first met.

Involved Characters: Sephiroth, 11-12yo ( @ghostofnibelheim​ ), Heidegger, 43yo ( @cwarscars​ )

References: Before Crisis -Final Fantasy VII-

Settings: Midgar, September εγλ 1992

                                               ‘I want to go home.’

~~

“This way, Mr. President. As I said, he’s still alive and in top form... We transferred him last week. The transport from Nibelheim seemed to have no repercussions on his health.” Hojo had a smug grin on his face as he spoke. He was in a good mood today, even enough for his usually slouch and crooked posture to be a bit straighter, making him taller beside his most important funder. 

Not so much beside the Director of Public Security, Heidegger, who was also part of the small entourage... but that would be a feat in itself, that the man of science had no interest in challenging.

“He may look a little frail at a first glance, but do not let appearances deceive you. The data show a stable growth rate, and I’d expect he will hit puberty very soon. ... But he underwent the mako infusion procedure like it was second nature. Almost no side-effects. A light amnesia, but his procedural memory was not affected in the slightest. Now that he is stabilized and acquainted with the new environment, I had him dismissed from medical bay and transferred for the first performance test today. You will see.”

A lot was at stake here. And while the man was still disappointed by the lack of Cetra-like talents in the boy, the prospective of the so-called SOLDIER program interested him. His acquired position at the head of the Science and Research Department left vacant by Gast Faremis was on the line... and he knew he still had competition.

If he could impress the President before the mess of theories Hollander was toying with back in Mideel bore any good fruit, the seat and all the benefits that came with it would remain as his.

And what a promising specimen this one was!

Only one more turn around the corner before they would arrive to the laboratories. A place far more at-home for the man in white coat, and less so for his “guests”. Reaching for his ID Key in one pocket, Hojo nonetheless couldn’t refrain from a light sneer on his face as he flicked a side look to the military officer that waited alongside Shinra Sr for their entry to be granted.

“With the President’s approval after this, I’ll have Project S handed over to your care then... Heidegger, was it?”

[ghostofnibelheim]

In contrast to Cloud's fit of hilarity, the face of S was a pure display of innocent confusion. The boy blinked at the strange transformation, tilting his head sideways in a puppy-like manner, until his face was nearly aligned to the shoulder. Try as he might, he could not recognize this creature... and yet at the same time, something about it felt so strangely familiar.

"It is ugly, huh...?" He spoke in a quiet voice. He watched the strange thing clamber its way out, stumbling past them in a clumsy, goofy odd run until it reached the door. There, it slapped itself fully against the surface, falling back and flat on the floor like a strange misshapen sheet of paper that disappeared under the door, like a document slipped into a folder. Free at last.

S slowly stood, looking back at the younger child. His right hand reached down, offering his help, while he gave him a timid smile.

"Come with me. There's a lot I want you to see."

This large house, too big for a lone boy, would be considered maybe a small world to explore.

But for S, who had known nothing else that was outside, this small world with Cloud in it had just become the perfect place to live in.

"Oh, eeeewwww!! He's so uglyyyyyyy!" Though it should be noted that the statement - as true as it was - was not delivered in horror, rather, the young blond was all but falling about himself in a fit of laughter. Astonishing perhaps for a boy who had been fearing for his life only moments ago. His belly was actually hurting, and enough to warrant the need to hold himself around the midriff, at just how funny the silly man looked just quivering and making stupid noises under the desk.

He didn't even think to ask who it was supposed to be, assuming that S was just thinking about an ugly man. At least that was what his six-year-old mind could deduce from this little exercise.

But when it came to Cloud's turn to make the monster look like something or someone 'tricky', not only was he now drawing a complete blank, but he was still giggling rather mindlessly at the ugly man crying under the table. It took a little while longer to calm from that, even long after the poor pumpkin-shaped monster had turned back into its original form.

But suddenly he had it!

Mimicking the silver-haired boy, leaning forward with his hands on the floor, he thought long and hard about what he wanted the pumpkin to turn into, or rather didn't want it to if that made any sense at all. And the thing under that table began to morph; huge feet which stretched all the way from under the table and between the two boys, a ginormous head hunched into a square and overly thick chest, and humongous arms, with equally huge hands making its squat beneath the table almost impossible.

"AAAAH!" A high pitched squeal as the small blond would jump to his feet and point, all giggles and mischief, at the monster he'd just created.

"He's ugly toooooo!!!"

The creature in question was in fact supposed to be the milkman who'd confronted him at his front door literally that morning; the man had been terrifying then but was now reduced to this image of hilarity cowering in a dark corner of a room.

Though in reality, it didn't really look like a person at all, at least... not any normal man walking the streets of Nibelheim. It looked more like someone had attempted to draw a human, without having ever seen a human before and was given only a vague description.

But at least he was having fun.

[ghostofnibelheim]

@umbral-stigmata-unbound || Continued from here

It was a lot of words. More than S had ever received in his life. How was it then, that they seemed to say so little? There was a lot of talk about the future, but that was just how it'd always been. If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend he was listening to that man again. The Doctor of Doctors. He knew his name, he just didn't like to say it. Or even think of it.

Sephiroth's only saving grace was that even now, S found that guy much more repulsive than he could ever be. Broken promises or not.

"... There's nothing here." He muttered in the end, squeezing his knees together and looking away. "If this is the place Mother went to, where is her house?"

[ghostofnibelheim]

Ding Dong I know you can hear me Open up the door I only want to play a little

Ding Dong You can’t keep me waiting It’s already too late For you to try and run away

I see you through the window Our eyes are locked together I can sense your horror Though I’d like to see it closer

Ding Dong Here I come to find you Hurry up and run Let’s play a little game and have fun

Ding Dong Where is it you’ve gone to? Do you think you’ve won? Our game of hide and seek has just begun

I hear your footsteps Thumping loudly through the hallways I can hear your sharp breaths You’re not very good at hiding

Just wait, you can’t hide from me (I’m coming) Just wait, you can’t hide from me (I’m coming) Just wait, you can’t hide from me (I’m coming) Just wait, you can’t hide from me

Knock Knock I am at your door now I am coming in No need for me to ask permission

Knock Knock I’m inside your room, now Where is it you’ve hid? Our game of hide and seek’s about to end

I’m coming closer Looking underneath your bed but You’re not there, I wonder Could you be inside the closet?

Ding Dong I have found you

Ding Dong You were hiding here Now you’re it

Ding Dong Finally found you, dear Now you’re it

Ding Dong Looks like I have won Now you’re it

Ding Dong Pay the consequence

[ghostofnibelheim]

[Four Seasons] In the Cage of Crystal and Greed

Closed Starter for the “Four Seasons” Divergent Megaverse!

Of how Project “S” (now named “Sephiroth”) and Rufus Shinra first met.

Involved Characters: Sephiroth, 11-12yo ( @ghostofnibelheim​ ), Rufus ShinRa, 15yo ( @thronelessprince​​ )

References: Before Crisis -Final Fantasy VII-

Settings: Midgar, September εγλ 1992

Plink. Plink. Plink.

The sound of the solution dripping from the IV bag beside the bed and into the tube that latched on the back of his hand. It was the only way the boy could tell that time existed in this room.

Plink. Plink. Plink.

Too faint to hear through the plastic equipment for most, but not for him. In here, this place with no color that smelled of antiseptic, it was all he could pay attention to. It drilled into his mind, and deafened the only coherent thought he could make.

‘I want to go home.’

Where was home, however? Why did the boy so fiercely believe he wasn’t there already, when his mind drew a total blank about anything prior his awakening on the surgical table?

This place, it was not home.

He didn’t want to be here, but he didn’t know where else to go, either. How convenient for whoever had put him in this foreign room where it felt neither warm nor cold.

Day and night, he sat in bed, and waited. Waiting for something to come to his memory, or for someone to come through the door. He knew he couldn’t open it himself. The ‘Doctors’ made sure to lock it every time. A heavy latch of steel bit fiercely through the door with the command of little plastic cards that they passed before a strange small box attached to the wall right next to it.

He hadn’t tried to ask to go out. In truth, he didn’t really want to talk to any of them. The boy didn’t know anybody here, and he could see the way they looked at him: like something that didn’t belong. Emotions he didn’t know what to name were plain in their faces whenever they came through to approach his bedside. They seemed more at ease when fiddling with the wires and equipment beeping and buzzing beside him, than the boy they were latched onto.

Maybe he was a machine, too. Was this how a machine was supposed to feel? It wasn’t like the IV could tell him anything about it.

Plink. Plink. Plink.

That’s all it said.

He wanted to go home, but how could he find it? This place seemed to be a closed box and torn from all existence. The only thing remotely close to a window was the long mirror on the same wall as the door. Any look the boy would cast to it would be met by an identical one with the same forlorn, empty-eyed expression.

Little did he know, more than one pair of eyes were gazing right back at him at that very moment.

~~

“There he is, Mr. President. Still alive and in top form, just as I told you. We transferred him last week.” Hojo had a smug grin on his face as he spoke. He was in a good mood today, even enough for his usually slouch and crooked posture to be a bit straighter, making him taller beside his most important investor.

“He may look a little frail at a first glance, but do not let appearances deceive you. He has yet to hit puberty, besides... But he underwent the mako infusion procedure like it was second nature. Almost no side-effects. A light amnesia, but his procedural memory was not affected in the slightest. He should be ready for performance tests very soon.”

A lot was at stake here. And while the man was still disappointed by the lack of Cetra-like talents in the boy, the prospective of the so-called SOLDIER program interested him. His acquired position at the head of the Science and Research Department left vacant by Gast Faremis was on the line... and he knew he still had competition.

If he could impress the President before the mess of theories Hollander was toying with back in Mideel bore any good fruit, the seat and all the benefits that came with it would remain as his.

And what a promising specimen this one was.

[ghostofnibelheim]

@yumetohokori​ || Continued from here!

"Hm? This?" Hojo held up the syringe that contained a green and softly glowing liquid inside of it. "It will make you stronger." It was time to give the boy his first dose of mako. They would start with a small dose that was slightly diluted since injecting pure mako into such a small child might cause undesirable effects. Hojo was certain that he would take to it well though. He was a special child, after all. Hojo had made certain of that.

“Stronger...” He mumbled, still looking a little concerned at the syringe in the doctor’s hand. That looked like a very big needle. As the skin of his arm was rubbed with smelly stuff and the injection inched closer, the boy’s lips zipped shut and his teeth pressed hard against each other in his mouth. He wanted to squeeze his eyes shut, but he didn’t want to look weak, either, so he just whipped his head in the opposite direction while the sharp metal punctured and burned through him.

It hurt, a lot actually. But S did not whine, not loudly anyway. His breathing was tense though; anyone could see that he was trying very hard to be tough.

Maybe talking would make him not feel the pain so much. He liked to talk, despite how scary and serious the ‘doctors’ could be. A curious child from the very beginning, he wanted to know about everything. But there was so little he was allowed to know...

“Will this make me be... no longer sick?” He asked, quickly, afraid to bite his tongue. “If I get stronger?”

He was a sickly child, it’s what they always told him. That was why he had to stay in this ugly place. Why he couldn’t go outside, or meet other kids to play with. His Mother was sick and died, and Doctor Hojo would make sure S wouldn’t die. That was the story.

Sometimes, it sounded a bit strange. Some details changed here and there depending on who he asked. But when he pressed too deeply with questions, he was dismissed. If he was good and got the injection without making a fuss, would he be indulged today?

[ghostofnibelheim]

onewinged-tragedy​:

Well that…understanding was a bit flawed… Believing someone is always right in word and action, isn’t what trust was. He sighed, considering correcting him. But was it really his job? And he could see the boys realizations left him in a thoughtful state.

Either he was helping this boy, or he was hindering the process in which he usually learned.

“Belief and trust aren’t exactly the same… Sometimes one or both can be wrong, sometimes people aren’t always right in what they say and do. But…still, you seem to understand it enough.” he sighs, shaking his head with his gaze cast down. Why was he trying? He’d only make it worse.

He needed to just get the boy back where he belonged, return to his resting place, and be done with it. So, still kneeling, he opened his arms. “I’ll have to hold you. So, whenever you’re ready….we can go.”

He was ready, but… ready for what, exactly?

His head turned left and right, scanning those large, armored and cloaked arms in all their length, from the metal-gauntlet-clad tips of one to the gloved other one. What was this?

What was he supposed to do? Some kind of exercise, maybe?

Without better instructions, S reached the conclusion that maybe he should imitate the red-eyed man, and so he spread his arms open in turn. His aperture was by no mean as significant as the other’s though. That was a little frustrating.

Small silver brows frowned in concentration, as he did his best to achieve as close to an opening as possible, until his arms were so open his ribcage hurt a bit in protest.

“I’m… I’m ready…?” He spoke under the strain of his effort.

[ghostofnibelheim]

onewinged-tragedy​:

Guardians, doctors, but not always… They just…left this kid to be on his own? He knew they were heartless, he’d found that out in the worst ways possible, but could they be so illogical and daft on top of it to think it was good for a child to be on his own like this?

He watched the boy, though, as he seemed to understand it was time to go, and he reached for the door. But his strength wasn’t enough. Of course it wasn’t. It was too heavy for him. The man sighed.

He then climbed out of the coffin, slowly and carefully. He watched the kid for a moment, then slowly and carefully walked forward. He stood over him, watching how he reacted to the proximity, before reaching to grip the handle, and pull the door open with ease. And there he held it. “…Go back where you’re supposed to be… It’s probably safer for you there…”

Was it, though? Was this child safe? Was any of this okay, to just allow this kid to roam around at Shinra’s Scientists whims, while he locked himself away in a coffin? But then, what else would he do…? What else could he do? Nothing. He had showed clearly that his weaknesses made him cruel. His failures made him evil. His choices made him a sinner. He couldn’t help this boy, he would only hurt him. He…wasn’t his responsibility…and shouldn’t be. No, his responsibility is to pay for his wrongs.

“…Be careful, kid… It’s best you stay out of this basement.” he warns him.

S didn’t appear intimidated nor particularly concerned, only stepping aside to give the man room when he reached for the door. His eyes widened in slight awe as the door seemed to be so effortlessly opened. Just as he thought, this person was a lot stronger than him. Possibly stronger than anyone he’d ever met.

He was a bit disappointed to not know more about him, but for the time being he thought he should listen to his instructions. As he always did; adults, for the most part, knew better. The Doctors repeated that a lot.

“Thank you..” He replied with courtesy, quietly walking his way out of the room. He half-turned to look back. In the darkness of the dark ossuary, the crimson eyes of that man shone. S lifted his free hand weakly. “Take care.”

The child turned to trot his way back where he came. Now that his mind was a bit more focused, he realized he’d spent much longer down here than he should have. He should catch up on his studies, or risk disappointing the Doctor when he came to assess his preparation.

His steps accelerated carelessly as he started to run on the old wooden pathway towards the upper level of the mansion. A risky behavior that he wasn’t considering, and for which he paid a price.

He was just on the final turn of the long spiral when the planks under him gave in to his weight, snapping in two. S was caught by surprise, landing poorly, all-four onto the planks of the level below, the plate with the candle falling in the dark deep pit and disappearing.

One split second, and he heard it, the crack beneath his feet. This support was about to give in under him too. The child’s eyes shrunk into dots, and before his brain could even make a decision, his body was reacting to an instinct he’d never known he had.

His legs flexed and pushed against the collapsing wood and the stone of the wall behind him, hurling him into the center of the pit. And then, he was following, straight as a bucket into a well, only there was no chain attached for his safety. Looking down at his inevitable direction, he had totally expected some amount of pain, but instead, that strange pulse in his mind and body reverberated again. Brows furrowed with concentration, and he started to spin, twisting and shifting his posture. And suddenly, he was on the ground, both hands on the ground, one leg folded under him, the other stretched out to touch the ground beside him. A perfectly executed acrobatic feat he’d never been taught.

His focus snapped out when he heard the cluttering noise of wood falling around him, and the child looked up towards the distant light above, observing the damage he had caused. It looked like a heavy mace had been smashed into a vertical swing onto the wooden pathway, leaving a straight line of broken gaps. Uh oh.

But more concerning than that to S right now, was exactly how was he still alive? Standing back upright, he looked down at himself. He didn’t have a single scratch.

Green eyes wide with shock studied his hands like they weren’t his own, front and back, fingers flexing. How had he done… that? Where did those reflexes and knowledge come from? He knew he was pretty sharp at noticing things, and could move quicker than any adult he’d interacted with before, but it was nothing he had ever been tested for. The Doctors never really appeared to have an interest in his physical form, so much as to what his mind could do.

Should he tell them…? Would that make them happy, if he did? Maybe… he was starting to feel better? Could that be it? The idea that he might be finally improving made his shock subside to swelling hope.

It did occur to him however that no matter what, he couldn’t do anything staying down here. After spending a little while before the first of the large gaps he had created, attempting to jump to the other side, he had to think back on the idea. Landing on the other side would in all likeness cause the wood to collapse even further.

With a lack of better options then, he was returning to him. Maybe he’d have a suggestion, or know another way up. S found that returning to the door was not all that difficult even without light, any any spooky effect the surroundings might have had in the beginning were completely gone.

Less than 20 minutes since bidding him good bye, he was pushing the door open again with a grunt, letting it close behind him with its heavy tud while he returned to the middle coffin, and… decided to knock. A little gesture of consideration for the man inside.

“Um… There is a problem.” He had no other words to describe it exactly.

[ghostofnibelheim]

"Negative." Came the much-expected response, quick as a bullet, like Sephiroth was a quiz contestant waiting to hear the one million gil question. "I have a dietician who keeps tabs on my blood tests and charts a meal regimen for me. I eat what I'm given."

As he speaks, he wastes no time either. His eyes observe like a hawk what happens around them. Already he's figured out the procedure, and so he grabs one of the steel trays from the rack at the end of the room, feeling reassured of his understanding when the other does the same.

It is then that the boy takes further initiative and moves forward, towards the counter, past the entire line of grunts that while visibly surprised and bothered seem also too bewildered to actually correct him.

Cloud was so very used to people giving him strange looks, so much so that he'd been desensitised to those very same looks being thrown his and Sephiroth's way for quite some years now. Way too long, however, did it take him to grow such a thick skin. Still, despite Cloud's outward ignorance towards a strangers glare, it would seem out of the corner of his eye that the kid wasn't too keen.

Strange really, the posters Cloud had spied dotted here and there (there were two in the mess hall alone on opposite ends of the room, they were really driving the SOLDIER campaign right now, huh?) brandishing the boy's image painted a picture of heroism if nothing else, and if Cloud's memory served him right again, several battlefront achievements had already been attributed to Sephiroth's claim to fame before the kid had even reached the tender age of thirteen.

He could be wrong of course, his expertise on the former war hero had waned over the years.

Though it was the youth's question which would derail Cloud's current train of thought, and he turned to chuckle at him before realising that he wasn't actually joking.

"Oh... you're serious..." a low mumble as he encouraged the smaller one (a size difference Cloud was having some difficulty getting over, Sephiroth had been... quite a bit bigger the last time he'd been unfortunate enough to cross paths with him) to join the queue of many infantrymen in front of them, and nearly all of them given the pair a very wide berth.

"No, no fighting today, you're on probation remember? You've... eaten in the mess before... right?" The blond imposter isn't even sure why he's asking this question... by the way Sephiroth was reacting to everything in here he already knew the answer.

[ghostofnibelheim]

onewinged-tragedy​:

There was a silence, before those red eyes looked directly into the emerald ones. Those eyes belonged to no one but this boy. It made it a tad easier to look at him, even if he felt a tad bit like an echo.

But finally, he nodded. “Yes… I am.” he wouldn’t bother explaining that he wasn’t always, that it had happened unfortunately. He was still a monster, and a lot of it was his fault, and there was no changing it. “So you should not be here. Get out of this basement, kid, before you get hurt.”

“Whoever watches over you will be worried.” he explained to him further, trying to further convince him. But he did narrow his gaze at him, and against his better judgment, he found himself wondering enough to ask, “…Who does watch over you…?”

That rose so many questions in his mind. S had never heard of monsters like this one, who could speak like a human, or look like one, too. Plus, if he really was a monster, why hadn’t he attacked him yet? The story didn’t add up.

He was about to debate when the ‘monster’ said something that actually affected him. A hint of concern and guilt furrowed his brows, and he threw a regretful look towards the exit.

He didn’t want to make people worry. It was an emotion he had been explained early in his life, even though it started with a ‘W’. He was told very clearly, he shouldn’t do anything that made the Doctor worry. Like going outside.

This was complicated, because for all intents and purposes, here was not ‘outside’. If staying inside could make the Doctor worry as much as going outside, then where was he supposed to be?

Shuffling slightly, his voice grew quiet, hands toying with the edges of his shirt for a moment. “The Guardians. Sometimes the Doctors, but not always. They’re not always watching.”

The surveillance used to be more intense, but as S grew and shown obedience and diligence, many restrictions had gotten lax. The cameras that eventually broke here and there were simply discarded and not replaced. Only the one in his room was properly maintained.

A little dejected, S went to pick up the small plate he had left on another coffin. The candle was almost entirely consumed, so he knew he should go as well, lest he remains without light.

He moved to the door, but upon holding onto the heavy metal handle, he recalled how he’d been unable to push it open with just one hand. Pulling inward would perhaps be an impossible task even then. So, he turned to look at the man in the grave.

“… It’s too heavy.”

[ghostofnibelheim]

azure-steel​:

Cloud recoils at the sound of the voice with a startled whimper, so much so that he raises both arms to his face habitually as if to shield himself from some hypothetical blow that was bound to follow. He didn’t know what to expect in all honesty, all he knew in that moment is that he was so terrified he was beginning to quiver all over, knees knocking together and his teeth chattering in his mouth. He wishes he’d never come here, wishes he’d never been tormented into braving the depths of the manor by the mean boys outside who always called him names and pushed him.

He just wants to go home…

Reduced once more to a scared little boy who craved the sweet warm embrace of his mother and her soothing reassuring words that everything will be fine come the next day. She was so rarely wrong, and he was already missing her cookies.

But the voice didn’t sound mean, nor did it sound like a grownup either…

Something about the childlike tone of that voice had Cloud slowly lower his physical defences, as though he felt that he could relate to it in someway, and cast his frightened eyes back into the darkness of the room, his gaze flickering into every crevice he could see, as he begins to truly consider the question the voice asked him.

“My name… it wants my name.. Just my name… okay…” he whispers to himself while nervously wringing his hands together, as though he was attempting to give himself the encouragement he needs to make good on that request.

Was it a ghost he was talking to? Cloud really hoped not. Still, perhaps if he just gives it the information it wants it’ll let him go and he can hide under his bed for the remainder of the day and forget that he ever came here.

And it’s while he battles with the trembling of his lower lip and the tears in his eyes that he provides an answer.

“C-Cloud…” he starts, phrasing the name like it was a question, his voice so very small and meek against the sheer gravity of the situation he feels he’s in right then. “My… my name’s C-Cloud…” a little louder this time, and actually scaring himself a little when his voice echoes around the vast foyer.

Though not only is he afraid of having his soul eaten by a ghost, but if he was to get out of here alive he was going to be in so much trouble if his mom finds out what he’s been up to. No doubt one of the boys would tell her… maybe it would be better to be eaten by the ghost than to have his mom so angry with him.

A name. At long last, S had a name to call.

Not a codeword like his own, nor the name of a deceased person who’d never come back, not a professional title like the Doctors. But a genuine name he could actually spell.

‘Cloud’, his lips silently mouthed, and a small smile surfaced again, in his lips and eyes. It was such a fitting name for a boy who looked like he had just descended from the heavens!

It was strange how much attachment he could give to such a small word. Just by having his name, he felt he already knew Cloud better than anyone he’d ever met before. Surely someone willing to give him something so personal and intimate wouldn’t mind if he got closer, right?

And so he did, finding the courage to step out from behind the statue. A cautious, delicate step of his bare foot on the old pavement of the manor, coming into full view of the boy.

He’d meant to approach Cloud naturally, he really did. But be it his excitement, or his lack of self-awareness and control of his physical powers that outgrew the average human potential with each passing day, S practically bolted straight at the blond child, hair floating behind him and bouncing against his head like a veil of silver threads as he abruptly came to a perfect stop right before his visitor, his features completely unchallenged by the athletic feat he’d just performed.

Instead, just that pleased, intrigued smile on his face and a welcoming greeting.

“It’s good to see you… Cloud.”

[ghostofnibelheim]

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ Gib this many, pls~

CHU~ || Always Accepting!

“... That was the last one.”

Maybe it was because of the people he’d been surrounded by all his life, but S was innately curious. A life of testing, research, analysis... he’d always been mesmerized by all the things the Doctors would have him do and try. Though none was quite as intriguing as the tests he tried for himself.

For example, growing plants in the vivarium had been his own initiative. But that project had seldom yelded some results, and never for too long. S had been discouraged for a long time, but ever since he’d found his new favorite thing, that had changed.

Or rather, his new favorite person.

Of course, he couldn’t talk about him to the Doctors. He’d mention him to the man in the basement, he was the keeper of all of his secrets. But on occasion when being visited by the men in white coats and taken measurements, tested, and evaluated, he’d mention in passing his new personal tests, keeping information vague enough to not rise suspicion.

He’d even found an empty book that he used to report his findings. He kept it safely enclosed where no one could find it, of course, with all the things he cared about the most. Today’s report was...

“104 kisses on the cheek...” He muttered, writing the accurate number with a pen in the old paper that smelled like dust, the book open in his lap. “That’s how many I can give you before my lips go numb.”

He really couldn’t feel them anymore. It was an interesting reaction. Though, this wasn’t exactly what he and Cloud had been testing for. Gingerly touching his own lips, the silver-haired boy looked back at his friend.

“If in nine months your tummy grows, we’ll know for sure that’s how it’s done.”

[ghostofnibelheim]

"... What? That can't be it." After a few seconds of stupefied silence, S shook his head. It made the little braid Cloud had tied in his hair dance against his back. It felt a little strange.

"That's not a name. It's a noun. She should have a real name." He frowned a little then; his immediate instinct was to make an example, but he didn't even have a name for his own mother. Or a face. At least Cloud had that. Surely a mother with a face also deserved to have a name.

"Try harder, Cloud." He pressured his friend a little, just the way the Doctors did when he wasn't as responsive as they'd like in a test. "Tell me more. About her. Why does she make you stew?"

Cloud did not like being told 'no' and his response to S' refusal to engage him in that moment was met with the deepest and heartfelt pout the small blond could muster.

yet despite hating not having his own way, S would get a pass, because he was great and special and amazing. Just maybe if he answered this dumb questions S would finally want to play Dragon Fort with him.

So upon abandoning the mess of bed sheets he'd just made, though not before offering the would be fort a longing glance, he would settle back next to his friend still looking at the photograph he hadn't even meant to bring with him today.

"Her name's mom. She makes really good cookies. I like stew sometimes though, but she hides carrots in it sometimes and I don't like carrots, all soft and orange. I like the potatoes the best."

[ghostofnibelheim]

"I don't wanna play hide and seek anymore... those pumpkin ghosts are scary..." To S from a lil scaredy cat Cloud~

Crouched down to hug his knees, S looked at Cloud with his calm green gaze full of interest. It had been the blond’s turn to wander around the mansion in search for him, yet after a good twenty minutes, he’d failed to get anywhere near his chosen hiding spot, which hadn’t even been that hard to find to begin with -- S being selfish and rather looking forward to be found as soon as possible -- and eventually the silver-haired boy had gotten impatient and abandoned his spot behind the staircase.

Against his assigned role of ‘the one who hides’, he’d gone to look for Cloud, to find him curled up into a ball inside his bed, whimpering and shaking. The Dorky Faces had found him alone.

They had quickly scattered when S had approached -- like most living creatures did, which if anything was to show that they were, indeed, not ghosts -- but whenever they had a chance to catch the blond on his own, they were quick to trail after him and use their tricky spells to confuse him and scare him. It made S feel irritated, and maybe a little jealous.

“It’s okay, Cloud.” He reassured him quietly, lips pursing into a smile that however faint on the lips, managed to reach the older boy’s eyes, making them shine with a glint of amusement as he reached forward to caress the blond head gently.

“They think I’m scarier.”

[ghostofnibelheim]

umbral-stigmata-unbound​:

He stared at the book, eyes only slightly widening in surprise, before he simply raised a brow. He observed the book but was still unsure of its content. Was it…a dictionary? Or a story book? What exactly did they even attempt to teach him through books?

He hesitated a moment longer, observing the child as he was presenting the book, before finally, taking it carefully. “I can do my best, I suppose…. Some of my explanations may still confuse but…we may manage to…figure it out.” he opened the book, flipping through it for the moment, then looking back to S. “Was there anything in particular you were wanting an explanation for right now…or is this…an extended ask?” he found himself considering. Was he agreeing to let this young boy come wandering around for questions, without thinking it through?

Could he really say no, even if that was the situation?

The child remained silent after the other’s question; his eyes blinked, confused and still so cat-like slow while he elaborated the man’s words. He really did word things in a strange manner sometimes.

“Start with this one!” Taking the initiative and dismissing the matter, he brought the book back to the first pages, where a few words had their description covered in thick black lines of dried glue, unable to be read. He pointed to one of the top ones that had caught his interest.

“What is an ‘ac…cident’? Ack-cident?”

[ghostofnibelheim]

umbral-stigmata-unbound​:

“Your want means everything to me.” he answered, honesty abrasively clear in his tone. “You’ll learn to understand why, when the time is right. But you are correct. This was my idea, because I perceived it to be the best option for all you needed right now. But your choice matters as well. You have gotten out…if there is more you wish to see, perhaps you can see it….but understand S…unless you wish to claim that cage you just broke free from, you have no home. They never gave that to you. So you will have to take it.”

Silence followed, as he allowed the boy time to take in his words, try and understand their meaning, and respond as he saw fit. But he also saw no reason with overloading the boy right now. He would speak, he would explain, he would remind him of his options, and then if need be, he would leave the boy be.

He would need suitable nourishment soon, something suitable that didn’t overwhelm his body given what he was used to with his diet. That would be what Sephiroth would make priority next.

That is, if S chose to stick with him. If he chose to return to the manor, then Sephiroth would have to return him, no matter how he himself would rather not. Sephiroth knew the reasons to hate it, to imagine it in flames….but S did not have those reasons. Not yet. And it was not yet the time to lay those upon him.

He glanced towards the entrance to small building S rested in, and considered giving him space once more.

                             “You’ll learn to understand why, when the time is right.”

     “Once you get better, you will be able to go outside. Be patient, S.”

                                              “Not now.”

Not now. It was always the same excuse. How often did he have to hear this? How much more of this imprisonment did he have to endure?

                                    “You have no home.”

That couldn’t be true. He refused to believe something so unbearably painful. The mere attempt to wrap his head around this and regard it as truth made his chest feel like it could be ripped apart.

What meaning was even there to being alive, if he was bound to feel this empty sense of not belonging, of caging, wherever he’d go? Was that what Sephiroth meant? If so, maybe it’d be better to not be there at all. Not just here in this dead place, but anywhere.

And that thought was the scariest of all.