[500wordsaday] January 3
I met my goal, but didn't go as far over it as I had in the past two days. But that's okay. Writing is all that matters.
I wrote 795 words today, adding to something I'd previously written. It's FFVII and since it's not for something anonymous, I'll post it here. The word in bold is the first word I started with today. :)
If anyone does read (although I don't think any of you on this filter are familiar with the fandom, feedback of any sort is always appreciated.
Halfway through the meeting, Sephiroth blinks - awake and aware, as he was only moments ago, but somehow different: all of this feels weird, wrong in ways he can't describe. For some reason, it's odd to actually see people gathered around the conference table, especially the ones he sees. Shinra, as expected, Scarlett, Hojo.
There should be different faces, he thinks, and can't pinpoint why. He should not be there nor the majority of these faces. How he knows that he is not sure.
There is a nagging pressure behind his eyes that builds as he thinks and spreads, until it feels like his entire head is throbbing. Abruptly, he pushes his chair back, drawing the eyes of everyone. Hollander, who was in the middle of speaking on something that was of little concern to Sephiroth, stops, staring at him.
"I have more important matters to concern myself with," Sephiroth tells the executives gathered around the table and turns on his heel. "Tell me when we have truly important matters to take care of." Behind him, he can hear Hollander start to sputter and both Hojo and Shinra call him back. He ignores all of them.
By the middle of the afternoon, the pain has not lessened and shows no sign of going away. At least it hasn't grown, Sephiroth thinks, and doesn't think about why everything around him is so odd.
The walk from the conference room to his office was disorientating, in ways that he can't describe. It's nothing like the trips he makes back to the offices after a visit to Hojo's lab, for the sense of disorientation is different. Those trips are shrouded in pain; this is shrouded in a sense almost of deja vu, but not entirely quite that.
The blinds are drawn and the lights turned off; if he refuses to concentrate, the sounds outside the office almost disappear, and that is why he is not entirely expecting Zack to come bursting into the office, but it is also why he is not entirely surprised to see his second-in-command.
But the presence of Zack there, whole and vibrant, so obviously alive, makes Sephiroth pause; he knows this is not how it should be. There should be no Zack standing in his door, with a smaller blond shadow behind him.
"You're dead," Sephiroth murmurs and drops his head to his hands, the pain almost overwhelming, as pain never is for Sephiroth. It's unlike anything he's ever experienced and it throws him out of his element, even more than board meetings and Zack do.
"Sorry boss, but you can't kill me." Zack stepped in further, either not realizing how much pain Sephiroth is in and how desperately he wishes to be alone, or ignoring the fact completely. Sephiroth goes for the latter; Zack is always almost more aware of things than he lets on, and he almost always chooses to ignore everything in favor of - according to Zack - more enjoyable things.
Sephiroth resisted groaning, but only barely, and dug the heel of his hands into his eyes, but it helped little; he wasn't sure exactly what he expected it to help and as he realized that, he dropped his hands, raising his head to look at the person who, he supposed, could be called his best - only - friend.
"What do you want, Zack?" he asked, aware his voice was barely above a snarl. He couldn't help it though; the pain was distracting, the feeling that all of this was inherently wrong too overpowering. He wanted nothing more than peace. Peace and quiet and solitude in which to process the feelings that were battering at him from every direction, feelings he couldn't understand. They lingered just beyond his grasp, taunting and tormenting and grew even worse as Zack leaned over him, worry evident in his eyes, even to Sephiroth who was not used to worry being directed at him, of all people.
"You okay, Seph?" Zack asked and reached out to place a hand on his shoulder. Except his hand never landed, Sephiroth pulling away before Zack's fingers could even whisper against the material of his clothing. The voices inside his mind were screaming at him, telling him how wrong all of this was. Zack was dead, long gone and never to be returned to him and the blond in the doorway was not as weak as he appeared. He was actually the greatest threat in the building, except for Sephiroth himself, but the blond could - would, had - overcome even the threat Sephiroth contained.
It confused him and made no sense. Zack was alive, vibrant and whole and there and Cloud was only a simple recruit, one who hadn't even taken the SOLDIER tests yet and failed. And how Sephiroth knew he was going to fail was beyond him. Nothing in his mind was making any sense, the knowledge spinning around him in circles, making him spin in circles.
Sephiroth lurched up from his seat, ignoring the confusion and worry that was pouring out of Zack in waves, and stumbled toward the doorway, his hands connecting with Cloud's neck before he realized what was going on. And by the time he did, it was too late.
"I will never be a memory," he snarled, low and dark and the sight of Cloud's pretty blue eyes widening in terror sent a sharp thrill down his spine, followed instantly by something a little ashamed and regretful.
Cloud's hands clenched around his, futilely trying to get Sephiroth to release his hold, and Sephiroth could feel Zack's hands on his shoulders, trying to pull him away, and the next thing Sephiroth knew was darkness.
-
The last thing he remembered was darkness, seeping over his mind as the pain became too much; the next thing he knew was darkness, as well, but not the darkness of too much pain or the darkness of the mind fading away. What he woke to was simple darkness; the darkness of a lack of lights, with curtains pulled shut tight against the artificial lights brightening the night outside. Sephiroth was sure it was night outside his room, late night, probably closer to sunrise than sunset; the dryness in his mouth told him he hadn't had anything to drink in quite some time, and the fullness in his bladder told him he had been asleep for long, but neither were pressing enough to indicate that he'd slept away days. That and the fact that there was a quite breathing coming from the bedside, soft inhalations and exhalations in a steady, slow pattern, convinced him it was still night.
Sephiroth breathed in deeply, holding his breath for a count of ten before releasing it in something almost like a sigh, and not even Sephiroth himself could identify the emotions held in that simple sound. Not that he was the best with identifying emotions, but even he wasn't completely ignorant of the range of emotions most people - himself included - had.
He identified the body as belonging to Cloud, probably set to keep watch by Zack; for a brief second it stung that Zack himself wasn't there, but that feeling was quickly pushed away. No sense in brooding over the pointless, especially when Sephiroth wasn't entirely sure why he needed someone to watch over him.
Shifting on the bed, Sephiroth pushed back the blankets and moved to stand up; trying to be as quiet as he possibly could in hopes of not waking the boy on the chair. But his hopes were dashed the moment he put his feet down. The boy stirred and bolted upright, going from sound asleep to awake in a seconds time, his eyes finding the dim outline of Sephiroth with little trouble.
He doubted Cloud could actually see anything, but Sephiroth could, mako-enhanced vision making it easy to see in the darkness of the room, and he watched the boy shift to the edge of the chair and reach out, only for his hand to drop away before he could really do anything. "Do - do you need anything, s-s-sir?" he asked, his voice low and hoarse and the stutter, a combination of nerves and natural shyness, back in full force, as it rarely was nowadays thanks to Zack.
Hearing his voice made Sephiroth pause and his eyes dropped to the boy's neck, dark bruises standing out sharply against pale skin. Sephiroth drew in a sharp breath and everything came rushing back.
I wrote 795 words today, adding to something I'd previously written. It's FFVII and since it's not for something anonymous, I'll post it here. The word in bold is the first word I started with today. :)
If anyone does read (although I don't think any of you on this filter are familiar with the fandom, feedback of any sort is always appreciated.
Halfway through the meeting, Sephiroth blinks - awake and aware, as he was only moments ago, but somehow different: all of this feels weird, wrong in ways he can't describe. For some reason, it's odd to actually see people gathered around the conference table, especially the ones he sees. Shinra, as expected, Scarlett, Hojo.
There should be different faces, he thinks, and can't pinpoint why. He should not be there nor the majority of these faces. How he knows that he is not sure.
There is a nagging pressure behind his eyes that builds as he thinks and spreads, until it feels like his entire head is throbbing. Abruptly, he pushes his chair back, drawing the eyes of everyone. Hollander, who was in the middle of speaking on something that was of little concern to Sephiroth, stops, staring at him.
"I have more important matters to concern myself with," Sephiroth tells the executives gathered around the table and turns on his heel. "Tell me when we have truly important matters to take care of." Behind him, he can hear Hollander start to sputter and both Hojo and Shinra call him back. He ignores all of them.
By the middle of the afternoon, the pain has not lessened and shows no sign of going away. At least it hasn't grown, Sephiroth thinks, and doesn't think about why everything around him is so odd.
The walk from the conference room to his office was disorientating, in ways that he can't describe. It's nothing like the trips he makes back to the offices after a visit to Hojo's lab, for the sense of disorientation is different. Those trips are shrouded in pain; this is shrouded in a sense almost of deja vu, but not entirely quite that.
The blinds are drawn and the lights turned off; if he refuses to concentrate, the sounds outside the office almost disappear, and that is why he is not entirely expecting Zack to come bursting into the office, but it is also why he is not entirely surprised to see his second-in-command.
But the presence of Zack there, whole and vibrant, so obviously alive, makes Sephiroth pause; he knows this is not how it should be. There should be no Zack standing in his door, with a smaller blond shadow behind him.
"You're dead," Sephiroth murmurs and drops his head to his hands, the pain almost overwhelming, as pain never is for Sephiroth. It's unlike anything he's ever experienced and it throws him out of his element, even more than board meetings and Zack do.
"Sorry boss, but you can't kill me." Zack stepped in further, either not realizing how much pain Sephiroth is in and how desperately he wishes to be alone, or ignoring the fact completely. Sephiroth goes for the latter; Zack is always almost more aware of things than he lets on, and he almost always chooses to ignore everything in favor of - according to Zack - more enjoyable things.
Sephiroth resisted groaning, but only barely, and dug the heel of his hands into his eyes, but it helped little; he wasn't sure exactly what he expected it to help and as he realized that, he dropped his hands, raising his head to look at the person who, he supposed, could be called his best - only - friend.
"What do you want, Zack?" he asked, aware his voice was barely above a snarl. He couldn't help it though; the pain was distracting, the feeling that all of this was inherently wrong too overpowering. He wanted nothing more than peace. Peace and quiet and solitude in which to process the feelings that were battering at him from every direction, feelings he couldn't understand. They lingered just beyond his grasp, taunting and tormenting and grew even worse as Zack leaned over him, worry evident in his eyes, even to Sephiroth who was not used to worry being directed at him, of all people.
"You okay, Seph?" Zack asked and reached out to place a hand on his shoulder. Except his hand never landed, Sephiroth pulling away before Zack's fingers could even whisper against the material of his clothing. The voices inside his mind were screaming at him, telling him how wrong all of this was. Zack was dead, long gone and never to be returned to him and the blond in the doorway was not as weak as he appeared. He was actually the greatest threat in the building, except for Sephiroth himself, but the blond could - would, had - overcome even the threat Sephiroth contained.
It confused him and made no sense. Zack was alive, vibrant and whole and there and Cloud was only a simple recruit, one who hadn't even taken the SOLDIER tests yet and failed. And how Sephiroth knew he was going to fail was beyond him. Nothing in his mind was making any sense, the knowledge spinning around him in circles, making him spin in circles.
Sephiroth lurched up from his seat, ignoring the confusion and worry that was pouring out of Zack in waves, and stumbled toward the doorway, his hands connecting with Cloud's neck before he realized what was going on. And by the time he did, it was too late.
"I will never be a memory," he snarled, low and dark and the sight of Cloud's pretty blue eyes widening in terror sent a sharp thrill down his spine, followed instantly by something a little ashamed and regretful.
Cloud's hands clenched around his, futilely trying to get Sephiroth to release his hold, and Sephiroth could feel Zack's hands on his shoulders, trying to pull him away, and the next thing Sephiroth knew was darkness.
-
The last thing he remembered was darkness, seeping over his mind as the pain became too much; the next thing he knew was darkness, as well, but not the darkness of too much pain or the darkness of the mind fading away. What he woke to was simple darkness; the darkness of a lack of lights, with curtains pulled shut tight against the artificial lights brightening the night outside. Sephiroth was sure it was night outside his room, late night, probably closer to sunrise than sunset; the dryness in his mouth told him he hadn't had anything to drink in quite some time, and the fullness in his bladder told him he had been asleep for long, but neither were pressing enough to indicate that he'd slept away days. That and the fact that there was a quite breathing coming from the bedside, soft inhalations and exhalations in a steady, slow pattern, convinced him it was still night.
Sephiroth breathed in deeply, holding his breath for a count of ten before releasing it in something almost like a sigh, and not even Sephiroth himself could identify the emotions held in that simple sound. Not that he was the best with identifying emotions, but even he wasn't completely ignorant of the range of emotions most people - himself included - had.
He identified the body as belonging to Cloud, probably set to keep watch by Zack; for a brief second it stung that Zack himself wasn't there, but that feeling was quickly pushed away. No sense in brooding over the pointless, especially when Sephiroth wasn't entirely sure why he needed someone to watch over him.
Shifting on the bed, Sephiroth pushed back the blankets and moved to stand up; trying to be as quiet as he possibly could in hopes of not waking the boy on the chair. But his hopes were dashed the moment he put his feet down. The boy stirred and bolted upright, going from sound asleep to awake in a seconds time, his eyes finding the dim outline of Sephiroth with little trouble.
He doubted Cloud could actually see anything, but Sephiroth could, mako-enhanced vision making it easy to see in the darkness of the room, and he watched the boy shift to the edge of the chair and reach out, only for his hand to drop away before he could really do anything. "Do - do you need anything, s-s-sir?" he asked, his voice low and hoarse and the stutter, a combination of nerves and natural shyness, back in full force, as it rarely was nowadays thanks to Zack.
Hearing his voice made Sephiroth pause and his eyes dropped to the boy's neck, dark bruises standing out sharply against pale skin. Sephiroth drew in a sharp breath and everything came rushing back.