Post by Sephiroth on Dec 13, 2018 19:30:54 GMT -6
Sephiroth
"Showing your back to the enemy? Overconfidence will destroy you."
I. BASICS
FULL NAME:: Sephiroth
NICKNAMES:: Project S, One-Winged Angel
GENDER:: Male
AGE:: 23
ORIENTATION:: Asexual
ALIGNMENT:: Neutral
EQUIPMENT:: Masamune. Materia: Lightning (Mastered), Revive, Restore, Fire (Mastered) w/All
NICKNAMES:: Project S, One-Winged Angel
GENDER:: Male
AGE:: 23
ORIENTATION:: Asexual
ALIGNMENT:: Neutral
EQUIPMENT:: Masamune. Materia: Lightning (Mastered), Revive, Restore, Fire (Mastered) w/All
HEIGHT:: 6'1"
HAIR/EYES/SKIN:: Silver, turquoise, pale
DISTINGUISHING MARKS:: He is dressed perpetually in black leather and carries a seven foot sword. His eyes are bright with mako and have slit pupils
II. PERSONA
Sephiroth is the greatest soldier the world has ever seen. Raised from a young age for military life, Sephiroth is a model of discipline and self-control. He speaks only when necessary, often choosing action over words with the exception of gloating in his own strength. He finds humor in those that attempt to oppose him and is so inundated with his own unchallenged superiority in battle that he could not imagine a fight he wouldn't win. For this reason, Sephiroth often comes off as both cold and smug though this has attracted far more admirers than it has detractors. Sephiroth is aware of his status as both a role model and a war hero, and he has grown used to keeping his guard up and his professional act unwavering at all times.
Still, not every situation can be a professional one. On the rare occasion that he finds himself in a more casual setting, Sephiroth often doesn't know what to do with himself and considers free time a foreign concept. With such a limited childhood, he's completely unaware of how to converse like a normal human being and avoids any situations that might lead to it. Despite his overwhelming confidence, Sephiroth is a man of few friends though those who manage to force their way past his defenses will be rewarded with undying loyalty.
Past his ego and public persona, Sephiroth longs for the family and love that he was never shown as a child. He has known all his life that he was different though what that means, he still doesn't quite understand. His has always been a lonely existence, living on the edges of his peers and never quite belonging among them. He fears the differences inside of himself, the past he still questions the meaning of, and the answers he might find should he one day seek them.
Whether he was bred a hero or a monster remains to be seen.
Still, not every situation can be a professional one. On the rare occasion that he finds himself in a more casual setting, Sephiroth often doesn't know what to do with himself and considers free time a foreign concept. With such a limited childhood, he's completely unaware of how to converse like a normal human being and avoids any situations that might lead to it. Despite his overwhelming confidence, Sephiroth is a man of few friends though those who manage to force their way past his defenses will be rewarded with undying loyalty.
Past his ego and public persona, Sephiroth longs for the family and love that he was never shown as a child. He has known all his life that he was different though what that means, he still doesn't quite understand. His has always been a lonely existence, living on the edges of his peers and never quite belonging among them. He fears the differences inside of himself, the past he still questions the meaning of, and the answers he might find should he one day seek them.
Whether he was bred a hero or a monster remains to be seen.
III. HISTORY
He was born not with love, but something far greater: a purpose.
Sephiroth had always had suspicions of his father, terrible suspicions which did nothing to put his mind at ease. Perhaps it was the interest Hojo had in him, the prideful and cryptic remarks for his "project," or maybe pure instinct. Regardless, Sephiroth wanted nothing to do with the man one way or another. Hojo told him that he was destined for great things -- far greater than any other alive, and with time, Sephiroth witnessed the results for himself. Hojo was many things -- amoral, cruel, and a hack scientist -- but he was right about one thing.
Sephiroth was destined for greatness.
He thought often to his mother, imagining that perhaps his strength came from her rather than the ambiguous father he'd rather not have. He imagined the embrace of such a woman, what it might mean to have a mother, but the image was never quite clear beyond the haze of storybook tales and popular media. In truth, he knew only her name, dropped by Hojo in his most cryptic and mocking of tones -- Jenova. He carried that name with him like an amulet.
It was what his mind flitted to when reeling from the effects of Mako poisoning, when sitting for hours in the murky din atop a hospital bed and gazing at the ever-present blue-green glow. His childhood was not a pleasant one, but it was the only one he knew. He was seen by Hojo and his assistants as a scientific curiosity first, a potential soldier second, and a child at a distant third. Still, that time was not without its own rays of light -- no matter how dim. One of Hojo's assistants stood above the rest, a man far more brilliant than his station allowed. Professor Gast would approach him with a gentle smile, ask with genuine interest as to his well-being and interests, and apologize for the obligatory prick of needles. Sephiroth often played at the idea that Gast was his father. It was a far more comfortable truth than the alternative.
At thirteen, he was deemed fit for combat and took to training with an almost religious fervor. It was an escape from his previous life, a freedom in its own way, and his first chance to revel in his own power. He took pride in his physical accomplishments, and became a second-class SOLDIER by the age of fourteen. By fifteen, he was promoted again. He became the youngest First Class SOLDIER in history, and he took this to heart. Still, the other soldiers were hesitant to approach him partially from intimidation of his strength, partially due to his age, and mostly from his strange and off-putting demeanor.
For his part, Sephiroth kept to himself and that suited him just fine. Or at least, that was what he thought.
By sixteen, the best of his age filtered into the First Class ranks. He treated them as he would any other, turning down their reluctant invitations to join them and initiating no interaction for himself. That was, until he met a man by the name of Angeal Hewley. Sephiroth had been aware of Angeal's considerable talent even as a Second, and his promotion was no surprise. Still, while the other SOLDIERs were on leave, Sephiroth was surprised to find that both Angeal and his haughty Second Class friend had chosen to stay behind. Angeal asked him to join them, and for once, someone followed through on that offer even when rejected. Angeal took a genuine interest in Sephiroth for reasons that Sephiroth couldn't imagine. Still, he couldn't say that he disliked the Angeal's warmth nor his genuine sense of discipline and strength. Eventually, Sephiroth relented to Angeal's attempts to socialize, and by the end of the year, might have even called him a friend.
Angeal's companion, however, was a different matter entirely.
Genesis Rhapsodos struck Sephiroth immediately as both fickle and unstable. He was quick to insults and even quicker to dismiss almost everyone around him. For the longest time, Sephiroth couldn't fathom why Angeal kept the company of such an intensely unlikeable man. The two were utter opposites -- Angeal, reserved and honorable; Genesis, spiteful and dramatic. Sephiroth and Genesis clashed almost immediately, though the soldier's attempts to rile him only ever ended in cool indifference on Sephiroth's part. Still, the close proximity under Angeal's company eventually softened the animosity between them to something like mocking banter. Slowly, Sephiroth learned to tolerate Genesis' existence.
And then Genesis, too, took can interest in him.
Sephiroth would never understand why. Perhaps it was only a product of working together as Genesis laboriously worked his way to the top of the Second Class. Perhaps it was all Angeal's idea. Regardless, Genesis' drive to befriend him was an undeniable fact. Sephiroth had no idea what to make of it, but found himself nearly powerless in the face of Genesis' fiery will, and he eventually relented more out of social exhaustion than anything else. What followed was a sequence of what Sephiroth could only describe as his own personal hell -- frequent visits to a play that Sephiroth had only heard of in passing but that Genesis muttered along to with breathless reverence, forcible journeys into the districts of Midgar that Sephiroth had taken to purposefully avoiding, and wild social gatherings that Genesis had to physically drag him to only for Sephiroth to stand awkwardly in the corner, unnerving anyone who happened to wander close to him.
Still, Genesis' efforts did not go unnoticed. In some small way, Sephiroth appreciated the interest even at the cost of his of his own comfort. Though he would never admit it, Genesis, too, had somehow befriended him.
Sephiroth took to training with both Angeal and Genesis on their own time, and he took a personal investment in strengthening the both of them. It became obvious to him that Genesis far outpaced his Second Class peers, and he pressured Angeal into helping him show more respect to authority before suggesting Genesis' promotion personally to Lazard. With all of these factors in place, Genesis joined them as a First Class SOLDIER, and the three of them became the most revered SOLDIERs in Midgar.
This status quo remained until only a little after Sephiroth turned twenty-two. During a routine sparring session, Genesis was spurned onward by a desire to prove himself, growing enraged by Sephiroth's superiority until Angeal intervened. The force of clashing swords broke Angeal's blade and the shrapnel cut deep into Genesis' shoulder. Sephiroth and Angeal rushed him to the medical bay, but though they had seen Genesis brush off far worse wounds than this, the hospital staff were powerless to stop the bleeding.
Sephiroth and Angeal spent every possible moment in the waiting room, tense against plastic chairs and bracing themselves for news -- any news -- that could tell them the status of their friend. While they both fervently offered to donate blood, Sephiroth was turned away even as Angeal went pale from the effort and could barely stand. Again and again, Sephiroth demanded they take from him instead, but again and again he was refused without any adequate explanation. As the hours dragged on into early morning, the question repeated in an uneasy echo.
Why could he not be the donor?
Genesis was pronounced stable just as quickly as he'd been announced at death's door. Both Sephiroth and Angeal rushed to see him, only to be told that he'd been transported away. They pressed for more information, but even Sephiroth's threats of his own rank did nothing to help him. He demanded answers from every doctor who had worked on him and even barged into the science department, requesting Hollander by name, but it was of no use. Hollander, it seemed, was missing.
And Genesis wasn't the only SOLDIER to simply disappear. Shortly after, a flood of Seconds left their posts with no explanation, deserting in mass without a single trail to follow. Sephiroth and Angeal, however, were too busy in Wutai to deal much with Shinra's internal struggles. It wasn't until they were called back to Midgar for a new briefing that they found any leads on Genesis. He'd been spotted in Wutai and was presumed to be a traitor. They had orders to finish the Wutai War by any means necessary, though both carried with them an ulterior motive. They would find Genesis, and they would discover the truth for themselves.
After this, Sephiroth's life would transform into an unrecognizable shell of what it had once been. Angeal would desert with Genesis, Sephiroth would be ordered to kill them both, Angeal would die by the hands of his successor, and Sephiroth would learn of his own origins. However, he remembers none of this, not the fires of Nibelheim nor the countless lives slaughtered nor his own death. He doesn't remember the years spent in torturous isolation just outside the Lifestram, and he doesn't remember fusing with JENOVA, possessing the malevolent being to wreak untold disaster upon the world and ascend to the level of a god. Still, these events flicker like a dying breath in the back of his mind.
These are things he does not want to remember, for at the time of his awakening, he has finally returned to the very state he most desired -- almost human.
Sephiroth had always had suspicions of his father, terrible suspicions which did nothing to put his mind at ease. Perhaps it was the interest Hojo had in him, the prideful and cryptic remarks for his "project," or maybe pure instinct. Regardless, Sephiroth wanted nothing to do with the man one way or another. Hojo told him that he was destined for great things -- far greater than any other alive, and with time, Sephiroth witnessed the results for himself. Hojo was many things -- amoral, cruel, and a hack scientist -- but he was right about one thing.
Sephiroth was destined for greatness.
He thought often to his mother, imagining that perhaps his strength came from her rather than the ambiguous father he'd rather not have. He imagined the embrace of such a woman, what it might mean to have a mother, but the image was never quite clear beyond the haze of storybook tales and popular media. In truth, he knew only her name, dropped by Hojo in his most cryptic and mocking of tones -- Jenova. He carried that name with him like an amulet.
It was what his mind flitted to when reeling from the effects of Mako poisoning, when sitting for hours in the murky din atop a hospital bed and gazing at the ever-present blue-green glow. His childhood was not a pleasant one, but it was the only one he knew. He was seen by Hojo and his assistants as a scientific curiosity first, a potential soldier second, and a child at a distant third. Still, that time was not without its own rays of light -- no matter how dim. One of Hojo's assistants stood above the rest, a man far more brilliant than his station allowed. Professor Gast would approach him with a gentle smile, ask with genuine interest as to his well-being and interests, and apologize for the obligatory prick of needles. Sephiroth often played at the idea that Gast was his father. It was a far more comfortable truth than the alternative.
At thirteen, he was deemed fit for combat and took to training with an almost religious fervor. It was an escape from his previous life, a freedom in its own way, and his first chance to revel in his own power. He took pride in his physical accomplishments, and became a second-class SOLDIER by the age of fourteen. By fifteen, he was promoted again. He became the youngest First Class SOLDIER in history, and he took this to heart. Still, the other soldiers were hesitant to approach him partially from intimidation of his strength, partially due to his age, and mostly from his strange and off-putting demeanor.
For his part, Sephiroth kept to himself and that suited him just fine. Or at least, that was what he thought.
By sixteen, the best of his age filtered into the First Class ranks. He treated them as he would any other, turning down their reluctant invitations to join them and initiating no interaction for himself. That was, until he met a man by the name of Angeal Hewley. Sephiroth had been aware of Angeal's considerable talent even as a Second, and his promotion was no surprise. Still, while the other SOLDIERs were on leave, Sephiroth was surprised to find that both Angeal and his haughty Second Class friend had chosen to stay behind. Angeal asked him to join them, and for once, someone followed through on that offer even when rejected. Angeal took a genuine interest in Sephiroth for reasons that Sephiroth couldn't imagine. Still, he couldn't say that he disliked the Angeal's warmth nor his genuine sense of discipline and strength. Eventually, Sephiroth relented to Angeal's attempts to socialize, and by the end of the year, might have even called him a friend.
Angeal's companion, however, was a different matter entirely.
Genesis Rhapsodos struck Sephiroth immediately as both fickle and unstable. He was quick to insults and even quicker to dismiss almost everyone around him. For the longest time, Sephiroth couldn't fathom why Angeal kept the company of such an intensely unlikeable man. The two were utter opposites -- Angeal, reserved and honorable; Genesis, spiteful and dramatic. Sephiroth and Genesis clashed almost immediately, though the soldier's attempts to rile him only ever ended in cool indifference on Sephiroth's part. Still, the close proximity under Angeal's company eventually softened the animosity between them to something like mocking banter. Slowly, Sephiroth learned to tolerate Genesis' existence.
And then Genesis, too, took can interest in him.
Sephiroth would never understand why. Perhaps it was only a product of working together as Genesis laboriously worked his way to the top of the Second Class. Perhaps it was all Angeal's idea. Regardless, Genesis' drive to befriend him was an undeniable fact. Sephiroth had no idea what to make of it, but found himself nearly powerless in the face of Genesis' fiery will, and he eventually relented more out of social exhaustion than anything else. What followed was a sequence of what Sephiroth could only describe as his own personal hell -- frequent visits to a play that Sephiroth had only heard of in passing but that Genesis muttered along to with breathless reverence, forcible journeys into the districts of Midgar that Sephiroth had taken to purposefully avoiding, and wild social gatherings that Genesis had to physically drag him to only for Sephiroth to stand awkwardly in the corner, unnerving anyone who happened to wander close to him.
Still, Genesis' efforts did not go unnoticed. In some small way, Sephiroth appreciated the interest even at the cost of his of his own comfort. Though he would never admit it, Genesis, too, had somehow befriended him.
Sephiroth took to training with both Angeal and Genesis on their own time, and he took a personal investment in strengthening the both of them. It became obvious to him that Genesis far outpaced his Second Class peers, and he pressured Angeal into helping him show more respect to authority before suggesting Genesis' promotion personally to Lazard. With all of these factors in place, Genesis joined them as a First Class SOLDIER, and the three of them became the most revered SOLDIERs in Midgar.
This status quo remained until only a little after Sephiroth turned twenty-two. During a routine sparring session, Genesis was spurned onward by a desire to prove himself, growing enraged by Sephiroth's superiority until Angeal intervened. The force of clashing swords broke Angeal's blade and the shrapnel cut deep into Genesis' shoulder. Sephiroth and Angeal rushed him to the medical bay, but though they had seen Genesis brush off far worse wounds than this, the hospital staff were powerless to stop the bleeding.
Sephiroth and Angeal spent every possible moment in the waiting room, tense against plastic chairs and bracing themselves for news -- any news -- that could tell them the status of their friend. While they both fervently offered to donate blood, Sephiroth was turned away even as Angeal went pale from the effort and could barely stand. Again and again, Sephiroth demanded they take from him instead, but again and again he was refused without any adequate explanation. As the hours dragged on into early morning, the question repeated in an uneasy echo.
Why could he not be the donor?
Genesis was pronounced stable just as quickly as he'd been announced at death's door. Both Sephiroth and Angeal rushed to see him, only to be told that he'd been transported away. They pressed for more information, but even Sephiroth's threats of his own rank did nothing to help him. He demanded answers from every doctor who had worked on him and even barged into the science department, requesting Hollander by name, but it was of no use. Hollander, it seemed, was missing.
And Genesis wasn't the only SOLDIER to simply disappear. Shortly after, a flood of Seconds left their posts with no explanation, deserting in mass without a single trail to follow. Sephiroth and Angeal, however, were too busy in Wutai to deal much with Shinra's internal struggles. It wasn't until they were called back to Midgar for a new briefing that they found any leads on Genesis. He'd been spotted in Wutai and was presumed to be a traitor. They had orders to finish the Wutai War by any means necessary, though both carried with them an ulterior motive. They would find Genesis, and they would discover the truth for themselves.
After this, Sephiroth's life would transform into an unrecognizable shell of what it had once been. Angeal would desert with Genesis, Sephiroth would be ordered to kill them both, Angeal would die by the hands of his successor, and Sephiroth would learn of his own origins. However, he remembers none of this, not the fires of Nibelheim nor the countless lives slaughtered nor his own death. He doesn't remember the years spent in torturous isolation just outside the Lifestram, and he doesn't remember fusing with JENOVA, possessing the malevolent being to wreak untold disaster upon the world and ascend to the level of a god. Still, these events flicker like a dying breath in the back of his mind.
These are things he does not want to remember, for at the time of his awakening, he has finally returned to the very state he most desired -- almost human.
IV. AUTHOR
PLAYER ALIAS:: Fin
OTHER CHARACTERS:: Kuja, Celes, Faris, and Ardyn
ROLE-PLAYING EXPERIENCE:: Well, three years on here for one
HOW YOU FOUND US:: Adventu has rooted itself in my very soul
NOTES FOR CONSIDERATION:: I am playing a fully human, Crisis Core Sephiroth. He could potentially regain his memories however. ALSO I MADE A SAMPLE BECAUSE I WANTED TO
ROLE-PLAY SAMPLE::
“Why must I be here?”
The atmosphere of the establishment was wild, relaxed, and foreign. Sephiroth had been invited to places like these after missions occasionally whenever one of the Seconds thought to ask him. Sephiroth had never understood it, and by the relief that flitted across their faces, he’d always assumed they’d never truly wanted him among them anyway. All of this was a waste of time. A flagrant disregard for practicality.
And yet…
”You promised you’d come with me, and by the Goddess, I’ll make you loosen up or I’ll die trying.” Genesis gave a wave of his hand, flipping his hair behind his ear so his earring caught the light. ”My friend, your desire is the bringer of life, the gift of the Goddess.”
A strong hand grasped his shoulder, and Angeal stood beside him. ”You’ll weather through.” He gave Sephiroth a faint and reassuring smile. ”I’ll step in if things get tense.”
”But is this really necessary?”
Genesis ignored him, just giving a scoff and quoting more poetry as he pushed through the doors. Angeal patted him twice on the shoulder before starting after him. Sephiroth stood on the sidewalk, watching the glass doors as they closed shut. Inside, there was laughter. People sat huddled together in leather booths, drinks in hand. Outside, the wind swept cold and bitter at his hair. Somewhere across the street, someone gasped and muttered his name.
Still, the door was shut in front of him.
Angeal paused and turned to look at him. After a moment, he smiled and held the door for him. ”After you,” he said with a knowing look in his eye. Sephiroth hesitated before walking through.
The brewhouse was warm. A dull orange light set a hazy mood, and Sephiroth tensed instantly at the heavy smell of alcohol. He’d never approved of Genesis’ looser habits, and he’d certainly never chosen this himself. However, he’d accepted Genesis’ challenge during training that should he last up to fifteen minutes against him, Sephiroth would come with them that night. Sephiroth hadn’t expected him to actually manage it. He supposed all Genesis really needed to succeed was the right motivation.
Angeal placed a hand at his upper back and led him towards the booth that Genesis had already claimed for himself. Genesis sat sprawled back in a lazy slouch, ankles crossed as he read his pocket-sized book of poetry. He looked up from it as they approached and gave them both a scathing look. ”Finally. Did you get lost?” He gave them both a dramatic wave as they slid in beside him, Angeal first and then Sephiroth at the edge. He sat straight-backed with his hands clasped in his lap.
”We’re not in training, you know. You don’t have to look so stiff.” Genesis stashed the book in his coat pocket and leaned back, arms crossed. ”Or has the Great General Sephiroth never heard of time off?”
In truth, he hadn’t -- or at least he hadn’t much seen the point. He far preferred the rules of the military to chaos like this, and he wasn’t much for wasted time. Going “out on the town” did nothing to further his career, himself, or the will of Shinra. Still, he couldn’t stand down from Genesis’ taunt so he scoffed and answered, ”Hmph. I’m not so inexperienced, Genesis.”
”Oh?” His eyebrows shot up in interest. ”And what wild stories do you have to tell?”
Sephiroth paused. Why had he let Genesis bait him? ”None that you’d like to hear.”
Genesis laughed and even Angeal gave a soft chuckle. Sephiroth crossed his arms and simmered. He could have fun. In fact, he’d show them just how stiff he wasn’t. He’d speak to them about something other than combat. He’d even pretend that the environment didn’t make his skin crawl. As long as Genesis didn’t suggest…
”So, drinks then?” He grabbed a menu and glanced over it without interest before tossing it at Angeal. Sephiroth stiffened.
”That’s against regulations the night before a mission.”
”The arrow has left the bow of the Goddess,” Genesis said with a sly smile. Sephiroth looked to Angeal for help, but he was buried deeply in thought over the laminated paper in front of him. Sephiroth turned his attention straight ahead.
”It’s breaks protocol.”
”The arrow, Sephiroth.” Genesis raised a hand carelessly. ”So what will it be? Vodka? Whiskey? I’m partial to wine myself.”
Sephiroth stared at him. This was not what he’d signed up for.
”Water,” he said, sharper than before. Angeal passed him the menu anyway. Sephiroth did not look at it. ”I said I’d join you, not that I’d drink.”
”Technicalities.” Genesis waved over a waitress dressed in black formalwear. ”Yes, I’ll have a glass of Merlot.”
Angeal nodded beside him. ”A Stella, tall.”
”Just a water, pl-”
”And he’ll have a whiskey sour.” Genesis shot him a malicious grin. ”That’ll be all.”
”Ah, no. Don’t-!” But the waitress had already walked away with a look somewhere between annoyance and amusement. Sephiroth’s mouth closed. He had not signed up for this.
”If you’re going to be around me, Sephiroth, then you can at least have some fun. Otherwise you’ll just depress me all night.” Genesis gave a dramatic sigh. ”The wind sails over the water’s surface, quietly but surely.”
”But-,” Sephiroth started but then closed his mouth. There was no use arguing. Even he knew that.
Angeal leaned over towards him and lowered his voice. ”If you don’t want it, I’ll finish it for you.”
Sephiroth looked to him for reassurance, and when he saw Angeal’s sincerity, gave a sigh of relief. ”Thank you.”
”Don’t spoil the fun, Angeal.” Genesis shot Angeal a nasty look which Angeal returned with a slight smirk. Finally, Genesis waved him off. ”Oh fine. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Honor and all that.”
Angeal’s expression straightened into something deathly serious. ”My honor is my life.”
Sephiroth couldn’t help it. He laughed under his breath. Maybe he could tolerate this “time off” experience. So long as Angeal was beside him. Maybe.
”Have you heard that the theater is only offering showings of Loveless every other Thursday now? A travesty in my opinion. I bought those season tickets for a reason, and already I’m tempted to set the whole place on fire.”
Sephiroth smirked and pretended to follow along. The lights hummed their dull orange like sunset, the air was warm and humid and sweet. For once, his shoulders loosened.
And at that moment, the chaos and the smell and gossiping stares didn’t matter. There was only the three of them.
OTHER CHARACTERS:: Kuja, Celes, Faris, and Ardyn
ROLE-PLAYING EXPERIENCE:: Well, three years on here for one
HOW YOU FOUND US:: Adventu has rooted itself in my very soul
NOTES FOR CONSIDERATION:: I am playing a fully human, Crisis Core Sephiroth. He could potentially regain his memories however. ALSO I MADE A SAMPLE BECAUSE I WANTED TO
ROLE-PLAY SAMPLE::
“Why must I be here?”
The atmosphere of the establishment was wild, relaxed, and foreign. Sephiroth had been invited to places like these after missions occasionally whenever one of the Seconds thought to ask him. Sephiroth had never understood it, and by the relief that flitted across their faces, he’d always assumed they’d never truly wanted him among them anyway. All of this was a waste of time. A flagrant disregard for practicality.
And yet…
”You promised you’d come with me, and by the Goddess, I’ll make you loosen up or I’ll die trying.” Genesis gave a wave of his hand, flipping his hair behind his ear so his earring caught the light. ”My friend, your desire is the bringer of life, the gift of the Goddess.”
A strong hand grasped his shoulder, and Angeal stood beside him. ”You’ll weather through.” He gave Sephiroth a faint and reassuring smile. ”I’ll step in if things get tense.”
”But is this really necessary?”
Genesis ignored him, just giving a scoff and quoting more poetry as he pushed through the doors. Angeal patted him twice on the shoulder before starting after him. Sephiroth stood on the sidewalk, watching the glass doors as they closed shut. Inside, there was laughter. People sat huddled together in leather booths, drinks in hand. Outside, the wind swept cold and bitter at his hair. Somewhere across the street, someone gasped and muttered his name.
Still, the door was shut in front of him.
Angeal paused and turned to look at him. After a moment, he smiled and held the door for him. ”After you,” he said with a knowing look in his eye. Sephiroth hesitated before walking through.
The brewhouse was warm. A dull orange light set a hazy mood, and Sephiroth tensed instantly at the heavy smell of alcohol. He’d never approved of Genesis’ looser habits, and he’d certainly never chosen this himself. However, he’d accepted Genesis’ challenge during training that should he last up to fifteen minutes against him, Sephiroth would come with them that night. Sephiroth hadn’t expected him to actually manage it. He supposed all Genesis really needed to succeed was the right motivation.
Angeal placed a hand at his upper back and led him towards the booth that Genesis had already claimed for himself. Genesis sat sprawled back in a lazy slouch, ankles crossed as he read his pocket-sized book of poetry. He looked up from it as they approached and gave them both a scathing look. ”Finally. Did you get lost?” He gave them both a dramatic wave as they slid in beside him, Angeal first and then Sephiroth at the edge. He sat straight-backed with his hands clasped in his lap.
”We’re not in training, you know. You don’t have to look so stiff.” Genesis stashed the book in his coat pocket and leaned back, arms crossed. ”Or has the Great General Sephiroth never heard of time off?”
In truth, he hadn’t -- or at least he hadn’t much seen the point. He far preferred the rules of the military to chaos like this, and he wasn’t much for wasted time. Going “out on the town” did nothing to further his career, himself, or the will of Shinra. Still, he couldn’t stand down from Genesis’ taunt so he scoffed and answered, ”Hmph. I’m not so inexperienced, Genesis.”
”Oh?” His eyebrows shot up in interest. ”And what wild stories do you have to tell?”
Sephiroth paused. Why had he let Genesis bait him? ”None that you’d like to hear.”
Genesis laughed and even Angeal gave a soft chuckle. Sephiroth crossed his arms and simmered. He could have fun. In fact, he’d show them just how stiff he wasn’t. He’d speak to them about something other than combat. He’d even pretend that the environment didn’t make his skin crawl. As long as Genesis didn’t suggest…
”So, drinks then?” He grabbed a menu and glanced over it without interest before tossing it at Angeal. Sephiroth stiffened.
”That’s against regulations the night before a mission.”
”The arrow has left the bow of the Goddess,” Genesis said with a sly smile. Sephiroth looked to Angeal for help, but he was buried deeply in thought over the laminated paper in front of him. Sephiroth turned his attention straight ahead.
”It’s breaks protocol.”
”The arrow, Sephiroth.” Genesis raised a hand carelessly. ”So what will it be? Vodka? Whiskey? I’m partial to wine myself.”
Sephiroth stared at him. This was not what he’d signed up for.
”Water,” he said, sharper than before. Angeal passed him the menu anyway. Sephiroth did not look at it. ”I said I’d join you, not that I’d drink.”
”Technicalities.” Genesis waved over a waitress dressed in black formalwear. ”Yes, I’ll have a glass of Merlot.”
Angeal nodded beside him. ”A Stella, tall.”
”Just a water, pl-”
”And he’ll have a whiskey sour.” Genesis shot him a malicious grin. ”That’ll be all.”
”Ah, no. Don’t-!” But the waitress had already walked away with a look somewhere between annoyance and amusement. Sephiroth’s mouth closed. He had not signed up for this.
”If you’re going to be around me, Sephiroth, then you can at least have some fun. Otherwise you’ll just depress me all night.” Genesis gave a dramatic sigh. ”The wind sails over the water’s surface, quietly but surely.”
”But-,” Sephiroth started but then closed his mouth. There was no use arguing. Even he knew that.
Angeal leaned over towards him and lowered his voice. ”If you don’t want it, I’ll finish it for you.”
Sephiroth looked to him for reassurance, and when he saw Angeal’s sincerity, gave a sigh of relief. ”Thank you.”
”Don’t spoil the fun, Angeal.” Genesis shot Angeal a nasty look which Angeal returned with a slight smirk. Finally, Genesis waved him off. ”Oh fine. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Honor and all that.”
Angeal’s expression straightened into something deathly serious. ”My honor is my life.”
Sephiroth couldn’t help it. He laughed under his breath. Maybe he could tolerate this “time off” experience. So long as Angeal was beside him. Maybe.
”Have you heard that the theater is only offering showings of Loveless every other Thursday now? A travesty in my opinion. I bought those season tickets for a reason, and already I’m tempted to set the whole place on fire.”
Sephiroth smirked and pretended to follow along. The lights hummed their dull orange like sunset, the air was warm and humid and sweet. For once, his shoulders loosened.
And at that moment, the chaos and the smell and gossiping stares didn’t matter. There was only the three of them.
