oh this is - nightmarish in its familiarity. sephiroth's horror, first, his reaction, is so violently familiar to sazantos' story. not an experiment, but a creation, through the agony and despair of a figure like a mother. the way cloud talks to sephiroth, the ease - it's familiar. the unsureness in his voice, as he's told the story of jenova and sephiroth's creation. the moment of betrayal as he's flung into the wall.
it's so familiar.
so of course, when it starts, rondo can already see where it's going, and that's the worst part.
it's edoras all over again. the screaming villagers. the burning town. the dawning horror of despair and the feeling of utter helplessness as everything is burned to a crisp by someone you cared about, someone you must have trusted. and the figure who started it all, putting his sword through the helpful villager's stomach. ethereal, ominous, lit up by the fires that he created.
at some point, rondo's hand flies up to his mouth. he remembers the ink spell of the name, what feels like years ago, sephiroth. of cloud's story of the place where he once lived, and when the memory ends, he breathes out, shaky, stunned. ]
[ ... cloud isn't looking at rondo now, hand flexing. this isn't a memory he likes to revisit. this isn't something he likes to share. his failure to save anyone that day.
... but, well. from what he's learned from rondo so far... ]
Yeah. We've both had shit tastes when it comes to people we looked up to.
[ this - this comment makes him laugh, just a short, softly surprised noise. instinctually, rondo wants to defend sazantos. it is always his first blush, to say something like, it wasn't bad taste, or he taught me everything. his feelings around his former mentor are so complicated that they've become a tangle, but he barely stops himself, reaching up to rub his eyes. ]
... Me too. [ quietly. ] Sir Sazantos saved my life when I was thirteen. I... the only reason I became a Knight Ardante was because of something that he told me.
I... [ ... ] I hate to have this in common. [ a little helplessly. ] But... I'm glad there's someone who can understand.
[ he doesn't think he can just casually talk about sephiroth the way rondo does sazantos, but then, sephiroth never saved his life. if thinking about that gives him a bit of a headache, well.
what doesn't. ]
... It's not something I'd want anyone else to. [ understand, that is. ] But... I guess it makes things a bit easier. Or at least--this.
[ well. that gets a smile, warm. as i shake cloud's soup brain. and he leans over a bit to nudge their shoulders together, just once. camaraderie. ]
I think it does. [ agreed.
a pause. ] ...What do you think? Do you want to spar for a little while? After something so heavy, it might be nice to not have to talk about things for a little while.
[ do you want an escape from talking about your feelings... ]
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... I woke up here.
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[ "he could be dead" SO HE DOESN'T KNOW ]
That, or what happens when you go back.
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...Right. I think... I think because I have Fisteralda, it - I hope that they were able to stop him.
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[ luckily this time even though cloud does not want to share that oh wow same hat moment, BAM NIBELHEIM INCIDENT ]
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oh this is - nightmarish in its familiarity. sephiroth's horror, first, his reaction, is so violently familiar to sazantos' story. not an experiment, but a creation, through the agony and despair of a figure like a mother. the way cloud talks to sephiroth, the ease - it's familiar. the unsureness in his voice, as he's told the story of jenova and sephiroth's creation. the moment of betrayal as he's flung into the wall.
it's so familiar.
so of course, when it starts, rondo can already see where it's going, and that's the worst part.
it's edoras all over again. the screaming villagers. the burning town. the dawning horror of despair and the feeling of utter helplessness as everything is burned to a crisp by someone you cared about, someone you must have trusted. and the figure who started it all, putting his sword through the helpful villager's stomach. ethereal, ominous, lit up by the fires that he created.
at some point, rondo's hand flies up to his mouth. he remembers the ink spell of the name, what feels like years ago, sephiroth. of cloud's story of the place where he once lived, and when the memory ends, he breathes out, shaky, stunned. ]
...Cloud...
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... but, well. from what he's learned from rondo so far... ]
Yeah. We've both had shit tastes when it comes to people we looked up to.
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... What was he to you?
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... We were friends. I joined SOLDIER [ no one can hear your caps ] because of him. He was... a hero. Everyone thought so.
[ And Then, ]
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rondo looks down. ]
... Me too. [ quietly. ] Sir Sazantos saved my life when I was thirteen. I... the only reason I became a Knight Ardante was because of something that he told me.
I... [ ... ] I hate to have this in common. [ a little helplessly. ] But... I'm glad there's someone who can understand.
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[ he doesn't think he can just casually talk about sephiroth the way rondo does sazantos, but then, sephiroth never saved his life. if thinking about that gives him a bit of a headache, well.
what doesn't. ]
... It's not something I'd want anyone else to. [ understand, that is. ] But... I guess it makes things a bit easier. Or at least--this.
[ this; the unwanted sharing, the revisiting. ]
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I think it does. [ agreed.
a pause. ] ...What do you think? Do you want to spar for a little while? After something so heavy, it might be nice to not have to talk about things for a little while.
[ do you want an escape from talking about your feelings... ]
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Yeah. [ it's after a beat, like it's belated, and he rolls his shoulder and repeats: ] Yeah. Think we could both use the break.
[ not talking is his favorite activity ]