FF7 ficlets: Contemplation
Spirals
Hire a little muscle, Rufus Shinra had said, attempting to coax Cloud Strife into working with him. He had cajoled, manipulated, and seduced the leader of AVALANCHE with his voice. As he had expected, Cloud had faltered. Every reason Cloud had to despise Shinra had been washed away in the wake of Holy’s fury, leaving behind everything for which Cloud had hoped when he arrived in Midgar nine years before.
Everything except one.
Reno shattered the spell Rufus had attempted to weave, though, giving Cloud the chance to flee. Rufus didn’t listen to Rude attempt to berate his sheepish partner. He preferred contemplating the now absent blond.
The delicate facial structure and soft, smooth skin clearly displayed Cloud’s Nibelhelm heritage, but Rufus recognized the young warrior’s blue eyes. He had seen them in his father’s portly face, and he had seen them in the mirror.
Moving his wheelchair closer to the window and away from Reno’s indignant, flustered defense, Rufus studied the beautiful hillside. On the path snaking away from Healin Lodge, he could see the trail left by Cloud’s Fenrir: one of the few toys Cloud allowed himself. Judging by its excellent shape, Rufus knew Cloud definitely cared for it. It seemed to be Cloud’s only material good.
Lost in thought, Rufus pressed his hand against the glass. One decision had separated Cloud from a completely different world. Did Cloud even realize? The other blond was cunning, but his mind was fragmented. He seemed willing enough to accept responsibilities but not circumstances, something that had saved the world and almost destroyed Cloud’s life. Was that Hojo’s fault? Or was it an indelible mark of Cloud’s character?
Behind Rufus, the Turks had quieted, and he could feel their sharp eyes on him. He didn’t deign to meet their gazes, instead watching the battered tracks trail out into nothingness.
Cloud had not cared to hear Rufus’s story of survival. Was it another example of avoidance? Preferring not to hear another example of Shinra stubbornness? Of course, it was a known fact that when a Shinra set his eyes on something, he was nigh unstoppable.
Particularly if the something was already Shinra property.
Rufus heard Reno hiss sharply, and he clenched his good fist.
They were here.
xoxoxox
Title: Phantom
Pairing: SephCloud
Warnings: slight movie/game spoilers
Rating: PG
Summary: 243 words of Cloud contemplation.
Phantom
Cloud never remembered attacking Aeris. He only remembered in dreams giving Sephiroth the Black Materia. In hazy daydreams, when he was warmed by the afternoon sun, he lost himself in smooth whispers and calloused fingertips.
One night, he dreamed of short, elegant nails scraping up his arm as a soft voice whispered loving threats into his ear.
One morning, he woke to the geostigma’s dark taint sliding up his arm.
His mind a shattered sanctuary which he could not hide, Cloud clutched the physical safety of Fenrir and rode and rode. Something inside him urged him to run and he refused to trust his legs.
Tifa accused him of fearing death. She threw Denzel’s courage into his face.
He never admitted to fearing life. His dark angel promised him an endless eternity of it, glory found in madness and consummation in decadence.
For a time, he found salvation in the shadows, sheltering himself within complex illusions and Zack’s strength. Sephiroth’s death by his blade cut him, too, cut away his careful lies, cut away his safety net. He saw Sephiroth’s eyes and saw Jenova, saw heaven and hell and everything in between.
Blood and Jenova bound them. Death was only the beginning. The darkness creeping up Cloud’s arm proved that.
In Cloud’s sleep He called to him. In Cloud’s dreams He came.
Perhaps Cloud would be able to move on, except . . .
Everything Cloud desired . . .
Was within him.
Hire a little muscle, Rufus Shinra had said, attempting to coax Cloud Strife into working with him. He had cajoled, manipulated, and seduced the leader of AVALANCHE with his voice. As he had expected, Cloud had faltered. Every reason Cloud had to despise Shinra had been washed away in the wake of Holy’s fury, leaving behind everything for which Cloud had hoped when he arrived in Midgar nine years before.
Everything except one.
Reno shattered the spell Rufus had attempted to weave, though, giving Cloud the chance to flee. Rufus didn’t listen to Rude attempt to berate his sheepish partner. He preferred contemplating the now absent blond.
The delicate facial structure and soft, smooth skin clearly displayed Cloud’s Nibelhelm heritage, but Rufus recognized the young warrior’s blue eyes. He had seen them in his father’s portly face, and he had seen them in the mirror.
Moving his wheelchair closer to the window and away from Reno’s indignant, flustered defense, Rufus studied the beautiful hillside. On the path snaking away from Healin Lodge, he could see the trail left by Cloud’s Fenrir: one of the few toys Cloud allowed himself. Judging by its excellent shape, Rufus knew Cloud definitely cared for it. It seemed to be Cloud’s only material good.
Lost in thought, Rufus pressed his hand against the glass. One decision had separated Cloud from a completely different world. Did Cloud even realize? The other blond was cunning, but his mind was fragmented. He seemed willing enough to accept responsibilities but not circumstances, something that had saved the world and almost destroyed Cloud’s life. Was that Hojo’s fault? Or was it an indelible mark of Cloud’s character?
Behind Rufus, the Turks had quieted, and he could feel their sharp eyes on him. He didn’t deign to meet their gazes, instead watching the battered tracks trail out into nothingness.
Cloud had not cared to hear Rufus’s story of survival. Was it another example of avoidance? Preferring not to hear another example of Shinra stubbornness? Of course, it was a known fact that when a Shinra set his eyes on something, he was nigh unstoppable.
Particularly if the something was already Shinra property.
Rufus heard Reno hiss sharply, and he clenched his good fist.
They were here.
xoxoxox
Title: Phantom
Pairing: SephCloud
Warnings: slight movie/game spoilers
Rating: PG
Summary: 243 words of Cloud contemplation.
Phantom
Cloud never remembered attacking Aeris. He only remembered in dreams giving Sephiroth the Black Materia. In hazy daydreams, when he was warmed by the afternoon sun, he lost himself in smooth whispers and calloused fingertips.
One night, he dreamed of short, elegant nails scraping up his arm as a soft voice whispered loving threats into his ear.
One morning, he woke to the geostigma’s dark taint sliding up his arm.
His mind a shattered sanctuary which he could not hide, Cloud clutched the physical safety of Fenrir and rode and rode. Something inside him urged him to run and he refused to trust his legs.
Tifa accused him of fearing death. She threw Denzel’s courage into his face.
He never admitted to fearing life. His dark angel promised him an endless eternity of it, glory found in madness and consummation in decadence.
For a time, he found salvation in the shadows, sheltering himself within complex illusions and Zack’s strength. Sephiroth’s death by his blade cut him, too, cut away his careful lies, cut away his safety net. He saw Sephiroth’s eyes and saw Jenova, saw heaven and hell and everything in between.
Blood and Jenova bound them. Death was only the beginning. The darkness creeping up Cloud’s arm proved that.
In Cloud’s sleep He called to him. In Cloud’s dreams He came.
Perhaps Cloud would be able to move on, except . . .
Everything Cloud desired . . .
Was within him.