(Untitled)
Who: Sephiroth( rectifythis) and Aerith( curatia)
What: Bomb crisis aftermath and crises of a different sort…
Where: Undisclosed location in the fields surrounding the city.
When: Some time after Aerith’s last entry.
( Guileless son, your spirit will hate her… )
There was an underlying hatred there in his eyes whenever he looked at her. She could feel it despite not being able to do or say anything about it. When she had first awakened she had been sluggish and uneasy, yet he had still allowed her to post a quick message on her communicator to let people know that she was okay. There were so many questions she had for him. She wanted to see where he had taken her. She wanted to know why he had taken her. However, before she could ask she had felt herself slipping back into the grasp of whatever drug she had been administered. He had let her sleep, leaving her on a soft grassy hill she had noticed before the darkness took hold of her again.
Sometime later, Aerith felt his gloved hand touch her heated skin. Her breath faltered slightly as the cold feathered across her chin and then left her. She didn't know that touch. It was rather concerning - why was he touching her? And why so tenderly? The touch seemed to be what she had required though - almost immediately she felt the stirrings in her limbs which suggested that she was finally waking up from whatever hold these drugs had had on her.
When her heavy lids finally flickered open and allowed her green gaze to slowly focus on her surroundings, Aerith's concious immediately focused on the tall, dark stranger standing not too far from her. The green of his gaze caught her offguard. They were brilliant...so beautiful...just like hers. Were they long lost siblings? His face....no..she knew this person somehow...although she knew she had never met him before in her life...
He spoke and it immediately ceased her wandering thoughts. Yes, she had been thinking that briefly, but she hadn't bothered worrying herself as she believed he wouldn't tell her. Bringing it right out like that though...well, Aerith suddenly felt a tremble run through her body.
He was different. Too different. He wasn't safe to be with.
"Yes." Answering him confidently yet with a soft tone, Aerith slowly raised herself to sit up, both eyes watching her progress before turning straight to him. Both legs moved to cross beneath her, hands taking care to tuck the ends of her dress around her thighs. At least it was comfortable here.
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Even now, she played her part as if it were a delicate, yet simple science, and Sephiroth hated the softness of her voice, her mannerisms ... the softness of her in general. It made him want to do terrible things to roughen her up a bit, dirty that demure purity, and perhaps make a rather disturbing gift out of her, as well. All this and more drew a grisly host of rapidly conceived fantasies that would have been too easy to carry out. Visions behind his eyes were speckled with more than just blood and gore, but that latent desire to arouse discomfort, to experiment with different lines of conquering in this fairly simple scheme where it became less about the taking, but more about the breaking.
Take ... He could take to his heart's content if that would be enough. He might have cheated himself of some pleasure before, but even then, he had allowed her to linger, and even now, he didn't realize how much that lingering had cost him. So, it was funny, funny still, that he should entertain this idea that it was safe to keep her breathing, that it was a good idea in the least to not still her where she sat. When she looked up at him for the first time, confusion overrode fear, and that alone set him to wondering. She looked upon him with eyes unknowing, knowing that she should be afraid thought she was unsure why. But it was a natural response. One didn't necessarily have to know Sephiroth to realize that there was, indeed, something dangerous about him.
There were troubles to be earned with killing her, however, but the challenge of that was hardly what stopped him. In fact, he'd relish the uproar, the hard words, the meaningless threats, and the full blown attempts. Was he prepared to meet Angeal in arms? Yes. Was he prepared to meet Angeal in arms for her...? No.
Sephiroth had killed her with good reason last time, and he would kill her again if she tried to interfere as she had, but as it stood now, she was hardly a thing for concern. And yet the simplest movement from her lips, a soft affirmative, had him wanting to strangle the life out of her, to throw her back down where she lay, and make good on any fears he may have instilled in her up until now. Something was happening to him, whether he acknowledged it or not, and it was tapping into the darkest elements of himself. It gorged on the fragmented state of his sanity, gave fuel to his egoistic parts, flared his blood lust, and threatened to reveal that deadlier part of himself, one unlike that which left so many of his enemies standing after so many close encounters.
He hadn’t killed Cloud. He hadn’t killed Vincent. He hadn’t killed her when he should have killed them all.
There was no telling if that was going to change now. His unpredictability was their curse, and Sephiroth kept his weapon unconcealed so as not to disillusion her completely. He held it stiffly as he moved toward her, slowly, composedly, and when he stopped above her, his mind flashed red.
Kill her.
Kill her, it said. As the telegraphic phrase repeated, the voice began to sound more unlike his and more like hers, more like Mother’s.
Then the mantra stopped, suddenly as it began.
Somehow, he’d found her neck again, and his gaze lingered so deeply upon it that he could see her pulse, could practically see the thin red line emerge before his very eyes, but no.
… No. Not yet.
At last, he kneeled calmly before her, maelstrom unseen by the solemnity of his sharp features, and looked her right in the eye.
"You are here," he began, " To do something for me, and unless you do, you'll never see him again." The "him" in question was ambiguous for his own amusement and purposes only, but Sephiroth knew she'd get the drift.
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Her eyes flickered between him and that nasty sword at his side. She wasn't stupid enough to think it wasn't any ordinary sword. Aerith was quite suddenly scared for her life, looking at that blade that was glinting here and there whenever he moved. Somehow however she knew he wasn't going to just kill her. There was a reason for this confrontation and Aerith really didn't want to know why. Whatever this was, she knew she was going to be pulled into something she felt she didn't want to be a part of. Despite being open and understanding most of the time, she had learnt awhile ago when she was being followed by those people in suits that trying to stay out of as much trouble as possible seemed to be the smarter action to take. Especially in the Slums...people disappeared there far too often to be careless. Regardless of whether he was trying to drag her into something or not, she'd fight to keep her hands clean.
Her eyes rose to his own when she noticed him staring at her neck. It wasn't a lust filled look, not in the way she was terrified of...but she knew that he longed to slip that blade against her neck and watch her life blood soak through her dress. The thought made her tremble, and as he knelt down before her she couldn't help but shy away slightly, yet kept her gaze locked on his. He was way too close for comfort...
The reference to 'him' made her face harden slightly. It took her a moment to compose herself enough to speak in a clear tone, however despite her resolve her voice shook with slight fear. Pity to being too human sometimes. "I..I'm sorry, but it depends on what you want me to do."
There was no way in Gaia that she'd ever end another's life just to see him again, or anything else of the sort. Aerith's hands tightened in her lap, both eyes lowering to stare down at the gracefully swaying grass. What would Zack do in this situation? She couldn't think straight, still having those god awful drugs in her system...
She hadn't felt this lost and confused in a very long time.
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Defiance...
His eyes flared at the sound, and something churned inside of him with her gall, hesitant as it was. He might have expected something like that out of her. It was the way of the hero to resist ... the way of the martyr to resist in vain, and her efforts were duly noted, but it hardly changed the fact that she would do what he wanted whether she wanted to or not. It didn't "depend" on anything, and perhaps she was still unawares that she was in no position to name stipulations. Not when he was this close, not when he could steal her breath in an instant and put an end to this ridiculous story.
She was fortunate, however, and his aversion to her insolence manifested only in the slow curl of his lips as he watched her fight for composure, composure he threatened with every moment he was near. But her reaction was instantaneous, and even if she was determined to make a frail stand, Sephiroth was certain that he'd struck the desired nerve. The slip of her gentle features spoke volumes and he knew right then that he had her.
How much time had they actually spent together before their reunion had taken a turn for the worst? Had taken a turn for this...?
Sephiroth hadn't forgotten Zack's place in all of this. That duty was left to the best friend. He imagined what it would be like to be a fly on the wall in his midst, to invisibly witness what was sure to be an inevitable crumbling. Was he afraid for her? Was he crying? Was he screaming...? Surely he was plotting revenge, but even that notion thrilled him.
And Cloud ...
He could only imagine how Cloud must have been feeling. The anguish. The frustration. The failure. Perhaps that was the most satisfying sensation of the moment, what with Sephiroth screening himself from more ... appetizing delights. While Sephiroth was indeed a man of action, he was also a keen observer, and it was interesting how the loss of sanity improved his understanding of people- even if it did absolutely nothing for his people skills.
Not a fleck of her body language went unnoticed, and when her eyes fell to her lap, he leaned in smoothly, entirely too close, and curled a finger under her chin. There was nothing rough about it, only the silent command for her attention.
"You will help me..."
It wasn't a question, and even his tone was warm, if not condescending in its' false tenderness.
“Give me your ear. The Lifestream … Can you hear it? ”
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Her thoughts stilled as he spoke, yet she couldn't help the small gasp from escaping her lips. The Lifestream? He knew she could hear it?
There had been many reasons as to why Aerith had always kept her abilities a secret, and this event truly made it all clear to her. She had hid it to keep maniacs like Sephiroth away from her. She had had a faint idea as to why when she was younger, due to Tseng paying her a small visit and asking her almost the exact same question...yet now it all became absolute. Aerith's eyes widened slightly as the thought passed through her mind, although she was careful not to let the realisation stun her. She needed her wits about her; she'd think about it later.
Aerith bit her lip as silence fell all around them once more. He continued to stare at her and yet said nothing. "I..." Voice wavering, Aerith studied his brilliant emerald eyes with uncertainy, before closing her own.
"No."
She knew instantly that he wouldn't like that response. Quickly to clarify, Aerith pulled back from his grasp and held up a hand, trying to prevent him from lashing out at her. "I...did. Back home. But here...I can't hear anything." Her fear was evident in her voice. Aerith wasn't afraid to show Sephiroth that she was frightened, but she wanted to make sure that he knew she'd still fight if it came to it. She wasn't sure if she had her staff strapped to her leg or not, but she'd still try.
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