Cloud's own changes appear to be moving apace. He has a pair of large, dark, tarnished brown horns that curl around his head and ears, with parts looking almost as though oxidized and green. A few bronze scales fleck his brows and cheeks, and his ears sport points at the ends. Notably, a bit of blond fur grows where his top dips low, clearly cut lower to make space for it. A small amount of fur also appears to be growing from his elbows, just starting to spread down towards clawed hands.
His shirt is cut in the back where two small bulges protrude at the shoulders- the very start of wings. They've already made carrying the Buster Sword as he usually does a little difficult. If they're painful (yes, and unspeakably annoying), Cloud makes no indication of it. The same goes for the tiny stub protruding from a hastily-created hole in his pants.
Cloud simply eyes Sephiroth's poncho with a slight tilt of the head before focusing in on the boy's question. Oh. Food. To level out the alcohol. Why is he worrying about that, or rather how does he know to?
Eh. It's no problem- not to the buzzed ex-SOLDIER. If anything, hearing concern from someone on a casual level is kind of nice. Yes, even coming from a tiny, sharp-tongued Sephiroth. If it even is concern and not just conversational formalities. Who knows. Either way, he most certainly won't be getting another glass of mead. Stupid mistake, forgetting tolerance was a thing.
At a closer angle like this, Cloud, to put it lightly, looks exhausted. Complete with dark circles under the eyes.
"Didn't think t'get any food. Maybe in a little." Should he thank him? "Cold's a lot worse than it usually was for me back home. Pain in the ass." He means home in two ways- their own world, and back in Nibelheim, where winters were nothing short of dangerous. Cloud hasn't fully put two and two together that his specific type of dragon enjoys warmth when not lurking in a body of water just yet- or that severe cold happens to slow it down. He's chalked it all up to being away for too long.
He should. "You should. Alcohol might-"make it feel like he's warm but- "-make you feel warm but you won't be." A different color, a different growth pattern, but approximately the same stage if he had to guess; his 'wings' were significantly larger, but no tail to interfere.
Is this what drunk looks like? He didn't think so, but he'd never really been around people with access to a lot and interest in drinking it.. Ardyn aside. ".. If you're becoming a fire type of dragon, it might make the cold worse." Sephiroth's doing his best to be reasonably measured about the possibility, gold is fire aspected, as is brass, and all that pale golden fluff could be marking one of those two colors, not the scattering of darker bronze. He had plenty of near black scales, after all. Their true color only revealed in strong light. Maybe Cloud was similarly. "... If so you should be closer to the hearth."
They are as gentle a suggestion as he knows how to make and it isn't ENTIRELY self-serving to want to be a bit closer to the fire.
Oh. The concern again. Cloud squints at Sephiroth some, gears in his addled head turning. "How're you an expert on alcohol? Worrying about it wasn't a thing in SOLDIER. Never- Never did anything to anyone." Does he really remember that, or is he assuming it because of his own tolerance? Who the fuck knows anymore. There's plenty he remembers that might be shaky anyway, and apparently even more he doesn't remember at all. He can feel that nagging presence that comes and goes radiate a feeling that genuinely reads as scoffing right when the question leaves his lips. Asshole.
"People back in Nibelheim still drank for it. Warmin' up. Even if it wasn't the real deal. But they did stay by fires for warmth too, I guess." A confused pause. Fire... "Fire dragon? No. No fire. Don't think that's what I'm stuck with. Saw sparks and lightning once or twice."
Another scoffing wave, followed by affirmation. Then, some manner of mental shove.
The hearth.
Cloud slides his chair back and nods at the silver-haired boy before picking his way towards a seat closer to the tavern's own roaring hearth, thankfully keeping his balance about him rather well. Ah. The warmth from the flames soaks into him- through him. It's nice.
He leaves his almost-finished glass behind.
"Better," he mumbles aloud. He needs to be careful, lest his exhaustion catches up to him. Luckily the steady din of the place and the presence of Sephiroth helps keep him as alert as his sleep-deprived self can be.
There is an answer he could give that would be thoroughly unhelpful, but he weighs it versus Cloud's slow comprehension of what's said around him and his sluggish reaction times .. and decides it's not worth it. "SOLDIERs don't only work with other SOLDIERs," he says instead, which sounds reasonable and in this situation is truthful enough.
That nobody else can hear Earenk but him is irrelevant.
Sephiroth doesn't follow right away, but as Cloud finds a much warmer place to settle down, he turns back up, with a wooden carved plate and ... buttered bread and cheese. It's cheap, it's plentiful, Angeal probably made the bread and sold it to the tavern, but that's not a big deal. It's food, and by the fire it'll be warm. "I wonder how much of this you'll remember come tomorrow." It's idle curiosity by his tone. "All of it, I should think. You can still walk." So not blackout drunk!
But there's a line between alert and everything being fuzzy the next day, he's told.
Fair enough. Though Cloud has to wonder just how different the SOLDIER program was, in tjis Sephiroth's time. How many SOLDIERs even existed?
Too much to think on in his present state. Maybe later.
Mako eyes go wide as Sephiroth sets the plate of food down. Cloud stares at him like he's grown a second head, before taking a small bit of cheese to take a ginger bite. He mumbles a sound that might be interpreted as thankful. Maybe.
"I better remember somethin' a day later," Cloud says, his voice growing terse. "Tired of none of that working like it should. Older you told me some things that only made more questions. Plus now I got no idea if anything I remember is reliable. Not that I've told him that. Rhapsodos has been needling at me over memory problems, and Seph's story just makes it beliveable. Annoying. Stuck here with myself, my thoughts, and now this. There's people who actually need me back home, and i'm twiddling my thumbs here an' only keeping sane by doing odd jobs."
It's lonely. It's miserable. I miss my friends. Things Cloud refuses to accept, but they float through his mind nonetheless. Toss in the dragon changes and he is doing just great over in his cottage at most times. Definitely.
It seems the alcohol has drawn back the curtain and filter between thoughts and spoken word for Cloud. He wouldn't be caught dead admitting any of this aloud, let alone to kid Sephiroth of all people. The kid has enough going on, and all this does is make Cloud look weak. He will be especially unhappy and embarrassed about it when he inevitably does remember.
"He's good at that." There's always more questions, and then the 'for your own good' part comes out. Sephiroth had no doubt at all that his future self meant well, everything he did emphasized that he meant well, such deliberate kindness was not something they were taught as part of their lessons in dealing with others. It spoke of long practice and deliberate effort, a choice towards gentleness that he himself lacked. Physical strength was easy. That kind of strength was not.
It was bad enough knowing things go awry at some point. How much worse would it be to be teased about it? "Do you think it's true, that you're better off not knowing, if they all think it should be kept from you?"
What was it like, to be needed? To know there was a place he belonged waiting?
He really doesn't know. He doesn't. That frustrates him.
"I don't know," it's said quietly. "I got told a fraction of shit and now I can't sleep." Plus it physically hurts whenever he tries to delve into it, or when fleeting glimpses of coming to on a cold table in agony or floating in a tank crawl to the forefront of his mind. Deep down he knows it isn't a lie- and as insane as it is to think, it seems Sephiroth has no reason to lie to him here in this world. "I think I get why he's taking it slow. I...Don't know what would happen if I got it all at once. So it makes me think the same with you. When does worrying about specifics become worse than the damage of knowing too much too soon?"
Sephiroth broke down when he found the journals in Nibelheim. He's probably just as fearful of harming his younger self in a similar way.
"S'all a load of shit. Nothing makes sense anymore."
He doesn't even know all of what happened to Cloud. It was second hand information at best, but he knew what it was like to be under Hojo's thumb. Unlike Sephiroth though, Hojo wouldn't bother with things like making sure his subject survived .. there were always other specimens. Even the little bit of care he could expect in knowing he'd live would not have been something Cloud could rely on.
"Chamomile is supposed to help with sleep." He didn't like the taste, and it didn't really keep the dreams at bay. The dragon did more for that than tea did. "Your dragon, can it speak to you yet? It might be able to help."
Settle some of the dreams. Settle some of the fear of not knowing, perhaps. Something to rely on that couldn't suddenly up and walk away. Cloud could be kept from hurting too much if he turned inward instead of wishing for his friends. .. But maybe it didn't work that way.
"His caution is ... all of their caution is reasonable, in a way. But I'm .. not really him, so what they know about 'my' future isn't ... really my future." That's a slow reluctance to admit, it still hurt to think about. The good ending, a happy result where he's cared for and loved is ..no longer guaranteed. "Might be the same for you."
Cloud wrinkles his nose with a disdainful snort. "That guy? He's an ass. For a while I figured he was just another voice in my-"
Fuck.
The blond cuts himself off, biting down on his lower lip. Shit, not something he meant to say alout. The alcohol really has him talking.
Cloud knows now that one of the original two alien voices he had was Jenova. Monster, parasite, manipulator wearing the face of his fallen hero. A thing that was injected into his very being that is trying to exert it's will by breaking him mentally. Making him do horrible things. The second voice is gentler. Kinder. Comforting in a way Cloud cannot place, but just as infuriating in the way it blends with his own self. It's like an inner voice that melds with his own, making it impossible to know where it ends and Cloud begins. If one is at least slightly helpful and the other is harmful, it means he's fifty fifty. Maybe he was too quick to shut away the third. Or fourth, including his own inner monologue.
"Just not interested in trusting things messing around up here," he taps his head with a finger. "He...Did say something helpful before. Has a few times. Usually comes through as feelings, and not words. He definitely can talk if I let him." Cloud is just far too good at compartmentalizing so he can function.
Then comes the talk of futures.
Might be the same for you.
Cloud is made to think about the small divergences he and the older Sephiroth found between his experiences and the silver's memories. While many match up beat-for-beat, there's a few that aren't quite the same. It was enough to lead Sephiroth to say the timelines might be different. His past might be exact to the other Cloud's (he assumes...) but his future...It isn't entirely as certain. Sephiroth claimed he overcomes his ailments and Jenova's influence, and becomes a hero- but just as easily, he might fail in his timeline, or worse, right?
That's deeply unsettling to consider, and in that, Cloud understands where the smaller Sephiroth is coming from.
"Could be. A lot of my and his memories match. But some are...Off."
"I made a message on the rocks specifically mentioning the voices in our heads so people would know it's a dragon and not a hallucination." He'd hoped it would save from this exact situation, worrying if it's madness or real. 'Another' is interesting.
Some of this sounded painfully personal, things that perhaps Cloud wouldn't normally say. A vulnerability. A weakness to be exploited. Or.. not; they're not enemies. They share more in common than he's used to. "... The dragon that speaks to me is named Earenk Lorsvek. She sounds like what I always imagined my mother sounding like." A weakness for a weakness; he's too old to be thinking about mommy. It's a careful offering, something to maybe take the pressure off what Cloud had admitted. An uncomfortable thing deserves uncomfortable things. "He ..Sephiroth .. went to Rhadore and Wutai at twelve. I'm sixteen at least. There are four years of friendships and experiences he's had by now that simply never came my way. I am told these were formative and crucial to how he is now."
Angeal and Genesis, and who knew what else.
It's only now that he carefully sits again, once more picking a chair and turning it around so the back of it doesn't agitate uncomfortably unfamiliar limbs, shifting them a bit under his poncho blanket for more comfort. "What has he told you, of what happened to you? I didn't ask as much as perhaps I should have, but maybe I can fill in some gaps for .. what happened to the Cloud Strife he knew at least."
Even if he did read it, Cloud doubts he would trust this alleged dragon from that alone either. Not with what he already has kicking around up in his mind, and especially not now knowing what one of them is from the older Sephiroth.
He feels a strange sensation on his chest and the back of his neck, listening to Sephiroth speak about his dragon- particularly when he speaks of imagining she sounds like his mother. Cloud knows this is just a young Sephiroth, long before Nibelheim, and knows this isn't what he thinks it is- but his trauma runs deep. Hearing and seeing the boy speak of his mother seems to have caused his fur to rise and stand on end. But in the end, this is a kid with fucked up circumstances, harmed by the same monster as all of them: ShinRa. Speaking of Earenk like this does, indeed feel like the smaller Sephiroth is offering up a vulnerability of his own. A light shake of the head, and Cloud focuses back in. So the dragon has a name. His, then, must as well.
Of course I do, whelp. You've been too busy working to suppress me even in my efforts to assist you to consider that.
He was indignant enough to push past the barriers Cloud put up. "Then spit it out already," He snarls back, aloud. He quickly catches the mistake, a look of horror crossing his face. "Uh, sorry, not to you," He offers to the silver-haired boy.
Four years, though, is a stark difference. Definitely a lot more than any of the discrepancies between Cloud and the older Sephiroth's stories. Four more years of isolation and ShinRa training, probably, in the boy's case. He shuffles in place a little uncomfortably at the question. This, Cloud knows, he needs to approach with the utmost care- inebriated or not. He doesn't know how much the younger knows, and isn't about to be the one breaking anything new to him.
"There's a huge four-year gap in my memory. He told me what happened then." Told him, and then the nightmares returned. "After a failed mission, ShinRa found me and the squad I went with incapacitated. Hojo took me, and apparently experimented on me for four years. Left me with severe mako poisoning that I somehow recovered from. Dunno what else he did."
He does, but that isn't something he is about to explain to the kid. Memories of the older's breakdown over revelations of Jenova flash through his mind, laced with new worries about how fucked up the circumstances are for Sephiroth, too. Plus some other push, perhaps from his dragon. Not now.
There's the barest quirk of a smile at the snapped words and quick apology right afterward; if offense has been taken it's very well hidden. That was obviously not for him, which means the other dragon is weighing in.
The things Hojo would do with a subject nobody cared about or would notice were limitless. "Has anyone told you what mako poisoning does to the average person?"
Weighing in, indeed. The dragon does not, however, respond to Cloud's petulant snapping. Perhaps to make a point, for now. Cloud can absolutely feel his presence, active and there. He's watching.
"Mentioned it a lot among SOLDIERs. It's why a lotta people failed to get in, too. Unable to handle the mako treatment. Stuff can make you into a husk, right?"
"...Yes, but also no." There's a downside to being in the labs every day for most of his life. He KNOWS exactly what happens. It's weighed for another long moment before he decides it can't have a negative outcome. "..Allow me to.. mm, provide a lesson I suppose in mako. You mentioned voices. That's a common side effect. Hearing things, or maybe seeing things or taking actions you otherwise would not, is typical of overexposure. Outright psychosis is a possible outcome, and you were exposed for years, in theory; if it is true then your strength of will must be astonishing, most are rendered comatose at best after merely a couple weeks." In some other variation of their timeline, Cloud is only a puppet, weak and pathetic and only good for what he can be made to do.
This one is not. He might be young, but Sephiroth doesn't see Cloud's lingering issues with mako as a weakness, but a blatant marker of strength. After all, the blond isn't a meat popsicle right now. He can think, he can move. "Like other forms of chemical induced psychosis it preys on your thoughts and emotions and enhances them. It's why mako is used recreationally by some idiots. A good mood is enhanced, pleasure heightened, happiness or calm erasing all else. But if there's fear, or pain, or hatred or rage... those too become exponentially enhanced. It need not be a conscious concern, either. I believe it's called a 'bad trip'."
The flicker of a frown marks that he's not actually SURE about that, but it sounded right. "It ... is possible to recover from mako poisoning and its effects. Most don't, but most aren't also still able to string three words together after a fraction of the exposure you've had, so your odds are excellent, especially if your dragon helps you." His partner will certainly help. If allowed to. "... Earenk believes that even if you can't trust your own senses, you can trust your dragon, and that it would be advisable to learn as deeply as you can the sound of his voice, his advice, his experiences, so you'll know the difference between it and a hallucination. Your dragon is bound to everything you do and he has a vested interest in the best possible outcome for you because it's his outcome too." We rise and fall together, now. "Everything that harms you will harm him. Everything that helps.."
Strength. Is that what they're going to call it now? Cloud is about to make a bit of a face at it, but Sephiroth poses such a compelling argument and point concerning the details of mako poisoning that instead the blond is left with a little bit of pride swelling in his chest. Astonishing. Strong. Hell of a thing to hear coming from the kid, after their prior exchanges. Kid or not, he grows up to be Cloud's hero one day.
"So you think it's all the mako," Cloud confirms, making no indication of thinking Sephiroth is wrong. It makes plenty of sense, and hell, is probably a massive part of the issue, Jenova or not. "Guess it makes sense. As much as it as I'm gonna make of finding out the four year gap in my life was fucking this."
He's lost a lot of sleep.
Everything that helps you, helps us.
The dragon chimes in following a wave of approval at what Sephiroth has to say regarding him. Finally, someone- or someones, he assumes, knowing well the boy's own dragon is likely involved here- knocking some sense into this shattered mess of a man. He has wanted to assist the older Sephiroth in his attempts to help Cloud with his memory struggles the whole time. He lives in this mind space too, and the mess he sees and the pain it causes his host are more than enough motivation. That's not even considering the complications Cloud's symptoms creates for the both of them.
Cloud's eyes go wide, his response aimed at Sephiroth, but clearly to the voice in his head.
"If you're going to be forced to help me, spit your name out."
Indignance floods Cloud at that. Probably enough even Earenk and Sephiroth might feel it.
You speak nonsense, whelp, to assume I only wish help you for my own gain. Judging my character upon a complete lack of knowledge about me. I make my decision in spite of my own wellbeing- not that you would offer me even the barest credit for it. Close your mouth and open your ears, lest I burn them off you for taking this long to do so.
Cloud is scowling deep, but quiet now, clearly listening further.
"...Ioth. That's what he says his name is. He's pissed, but wants to help."
That's what he's going to call it, because it is. Cloud should have never woken up. Not after YEARS of being in a tank under Hojo's care. "The most obvious answer is often the right one," the boy says quietly. "It fits all I have heard of what happened to you and also what the Professor favors experimenting with. Even I was not subject to full immersion for years on end. I don't know that I'd still be able to think after so long. In which case much of what you have forgotten ... will be the pain of those tests, and not something that is worth dredging back up." Amnesia is a blessing. "The lifestream's mercy, if you wish to think of it that way."
If he could forget what he'd endured in his own lifetime, would he? Simply erase it all?
That Sephiroth is missing a significant portion of those experiments, that Cloud's infected with an alien plague, with his own genes ... might not actually affect that belief and outcome. He wasn't inherently hallucinagenic. Hadn't experienced any such thing as hearing voices.
There's a dialogue going on here that he can't hear, that much is obvious by Cloud's words and reactions, and he has no doubt it isn't an illusion. Who knows how long the dragon's been trying to help him, rejected by the fear of it being nothing more than so much smoke and mirrors.
"I don't think they're forced. I think they picked us." He had no confirmation of that beyond a distant feeling of a rumble from his own dragon. "Or at least, agreed to it." Willing participants in all of this nonsense! So what drew Earenk to him?
What drew Ioth to Cloud? "...Mm, I'd say hello but I'm not sure that works well through a proxy. I can't say I know a lot about our situation with these dragons, but I have a lifetime's experience with what mako can do. I ... know my brother is invested in seeing you at your best," the older, presumably, "But I don't know if he'll address things as directly as necessary when it comes to you. Or at all." Guilt and all. "I have no such problems, and will assist if you wish. Between the ... four of us, perhaps something can be done about the lingering effects sooner rather than later."
He shouldn't bother. Cloud's not his problem. Cloud's the other Sephiroth's problem.
Except there's still this faint tug, that he hasn't even focused on enough to realize is there. Some unconscious sense that this isn't extending a hand to a stranger, but part of himself, exactly the way it did with the older Sephiroth.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2024-12-12 08:51 am (UTC)His shirt is cut in the back where two small bulges protrude at the shoulders- the very start of wings. They've already made carrying the Buster Sword as he usually does a little difficult. If they're painful (yes, and unspeakably annoying), Cloud makes no indication of it. The same goes for the tiny stub protruding from a hastily-created hole in his pants.
Cloud simply eyes Sephiroth's poncho with a slight tilt of the head before focusing in on the boy's question. Oh. Food. To level out the alcohol. Why is he worrying about that, or rather how does he know to?
Eh. It's no problem- not to the buzzed ex-SOLDIER. If anything, hearing concern from someone on a casual level is kind of nice. Yes, even coming from a tiny, sharp-tongued Sephiroth. If it even is concern and not just conversational formalities. Who knows. Either way, he most certainly won't be getting another glass of mead. Stupid mistake, forgetting tolerance was a thing.
At a closer angle like this, Cloud, to put it lightly, looks exhausted. Complete with dark circles under the eyes.
"Didn't think t'get any food. Maybe in a little." Should he thank him? "Cold's a lot worse than it usually was for me back home. Pain in the ass." He means home in two ways- their own world, and back in Nibelheim, where winters were nothing short of dangerous. Cloud hasn't fully put two and two together that his specific type of dragon enjoys warmth when not lurking in a body of water just yet- or that severe cold happens to slow it down. He's chalked it all up to being away for too long.
no subject
Date: 2024-12-12 09:19 am (UTC)Is this what drunk looks like? He didn't think so, but he'd never really been around people with access to a lot and interest in drinking it.. Ardyn aside. ".. If you're becoming a fire type of dragon, it might make the cold worse." Sephiroth's doing his best to be reasonably measured about the possibility, gold is fire aspected, as is brass, and all that pale golden fluff could be marking one of those two colors, not the scattering of darker bronze. He had plenty of near black scales, after all. Their true color only revealed in strong light. Maybe Cloud was similarly. "... If so you should be closer to the hearth."
They are as gentle a suggestion as he knows how to make and it isn't ENTIRELY self-serving to want to be a bit closer to the fire.
no subject
Date: 2024-12-12 09:41 am (UTC)"People back in Nibelheim still drank for it. Warmin' up. Even if it wasn't the real deal. But they did stay by fires for warmth too, I guess." A confused pause. Fire... "Fire dragon? No. No fire. Don't think that's what I'm stuck with. Saw sparks and lightning once or twice."
Another scoffing wave, followed by affirmation. Then, some manner of mental shove.
The hearth.
Cloud slides his chair back and nods at the silver-haired boy before picking his way towards a seat closer to the tavern's own roaring hearth, thankfully keeping his balance about him rather well. Ah. The warmth from the flames soaks into him- through him. It's nice.
He leaves his almost-finished glass behind.
"Better," he mumbles aloud. He needs to be careful, lest his exhaustion catches up to him. Luckily the steady din of the place and the presence of Sephiroth helps keep him as alert as his sleep-deprived self can be.
no subject
Date: 2024-12-12 01:37 pm (UTC)That nobody else can hear Earenk but him is irrelevant.
Sephiroth doesn't follow right away, but as Cloud finds a much warmer place to settle down, he turns back up, with a wooden carved plate and ... buttered bread and cheese. It's cheap, it's plentiful, Angeal probably made the bread and sold it to the tavern, but that's not a big deal. It's food, and by the fire it'll be warm. "I wonder how much of this you'll remember come tomorrow." It's idle curiosity by his tone. "All of it, I should think. You can still walk." So not blackout drunk!
But there's a line between alert and everything being fuzzy the next day, he's told.
no subject
Date: 2024-12-12 01:56 pm (UTC)Too much to think on in his present state. Maybe later.
Mako eyes go wide as Sephiroth sets the plate of food down. Cloud stares at him like he's grown a second head, before taking a small bit of cheese to take a ginger bite. He mumbles a sound that might be interpreted as thankful. Maybe.
"I better remember somethin' a day later," Cloud says, his voice growing terse. "Tired of none of that working like it should. Older you told me some things that only made more questions. Plus now I got no idea if anything I remember is reliable. Not that I've told him that. Rhapsodos has been needling at me over memory problems, and Seph's story just makes it beliveable. Annoying. Stuck here with myself, my thoughts, and now this. There's people who actually need me back home, and i'm twiddling my thumbs here an' only keeping sane by doing odd jobs."
It's lonely. It's miserable. I miss my friends. Things Cloud refuses to accept, but they float through his mind nonetheless. Toss in the dragon changes and he is doing just great over in his cottage at most times. Definitely.
It seems the alcohol has drawn back the curtain and filter between thoughts and spoken word for Cloud. He wouldn't be caught dead admitting any of this aloud, let alone to kid Sephiroth of all people. The kid has enough going on, and all this does is make Cloud look weak. He will be especially unhappy and embarrassed about it when he inevitably does remember.
no subject
Date: 2024-12-12 02:03 pm (UTC)It was bad enough knowing things go awry at some point. How much worse would it be to be teased about it? "Do you think it's true, that you're better off not knowing, if they all think it should be kept from you?"
What was it like, to be needed? To know there was a place he belonged waiting?
no subject
Date: 2024-12-12 02:20 pm (UTC)He really doesn't know. He doesn't. That frustrates him.
"I don't know," it's said quietly. "I got told a fraction of shit and now I can't sleep." Plus it physically hurts whenever he tries to delve into it, or when fleeting glimpses of coming to on a cold table in agony or floating in a tank crawl to the forefront of his mind. Deep down he knows it isn't a lie- and as insane as it is to think, it seems Sephiroth has no reason to lie to him here in this world. "I think I get why he's taking it slow. I...Don't know what would happen if I got it all at once. So it makes me think the same with you. When does worrying about specifics become worse than the damage of knowing too much too soon?"
Sephiroth broke down when he found the journals in Nibelheim. He's probably just as fearful of harming his younger self in a similar way.
"S'all a load of shit. Nothing makes sense anymore."
no subject
Date: 2024-12-12 02:28 pm (UTC)"Chamomile is supposed to help with sleep." He didn't like the taste, and it didn't really keep the dreams at bay. The dragon did more for that than tea did. "Your dragon, can it speak to you yet? It might be able to help."
Settle some of the dreams. Settle some of the fear of not knowing, perhaps. Something to rely on that couldn't suddenly up and walk away. Cloud could be kept from hurting too much if he turned inward instead of wishing for his friends. .. But maybe it didn't work that way.
"His caution is ... all of their caution is reasonable, in a way. But I'm .. not really him, so what they know about 'my' future isn't ... really my future." That's a slow reluctance to admit, it still hurt to think about. The good ending, a happy result where he's cared for and loved is ..no longer guaranteed. "Might be the same for you."
no subject
Date: 2024-12-12 03:00 pm (UTC)Fuck.
The blond cuts himself off, biting down on his lower lip. Shit, not something he meant to say alout. The alcohol really has him talking.
Cloud knows now that one of the original two alien voices he had was Jenova. Monster, parasite, manipulator wearing the face of his fallen hero. A thing that was injected into his very being that is trying to exert it's will by breaking him mentally. Making him do horrible things. The second voice is gentler. Kinder. Comforting in a way Cloud cannot place, but just as infuriating in the way it blends with his own self. It's like an inner voice that melds with his own, making it impossible to know where it ends and Cloud begins. If one is at least slightly helpful and the other is harmful, it means he's fifty fifty. Maybe he was too quick to shut away the third. Or fourth, including his own inner monologue.
"Just not interested in trusting things messing around up here," he taps his head with a finger. "He...Did say something helpful before. Has a few times. Usually comes through as feelings, and not words. He definitely can talk if I let him." Cloud is just far too good at compartmentalizing so he can function.
Then comes the talk of futures.
Might be the same for you.
Cloud is made to think about the small divergences he and the older Sephiroth found between his experiences and the silver's memories. While many match up beat-for-beat, there's a few that aren't quite the same. It was enough to lead Sephiroth to say the timelines might be different. His past might be exact to the other Cloud's (he assumes...) but his future...It isn't entirely as certain. Sephiroth claimed he overcomes his ailments and Jenova's influence, and becomes a hero- but just as easily, he might fail in his timeline, or worse, right?
That's deeply unsettling to consider, and in that, Cloud understands where the smaller Sephiroth is coming from.
"Could be. A lot of my and his memories match. But some are...Off."
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Date: 2024-12-12 03:13 pm (UTC)Some of this sounded painfully personal, things that perhaps Cloud wouldn't normally say. A vulnerability. A weakness to be exploited. Or.. not; they're not enemies. They share more in common than he's used to. "... The dragon that speaks to me is named Earenk Lorsvek. She sounds like what I always imagined my mother sounding like." A weakness for a weakness; he's too old to be thinking about mommy. It's a careful offering, something to maybe take the pressure off what Cloud had admitted. An uncomfortable thing deserves uncomfortable things. "He ..Sephiroth .. went to Rhadore and Wutai at twelve. I'm sixteen at least. There are four years of friendships and experiences he's had by now that simply never came my way. I am told these were formative and crucial to how he is now."
Angeal and Genesis, and who knew what else.
It's only now that he carefully sits again, once more picking a chair and turning it around so the back of it doesn't agitate uncomfortably unfamiliar limbs, shifting them a bit under his poncho blanket for more comfort. "What has he told you, of what happened to you? I didn't ask as much as perhaps I should have, but maybe I can fill in some gaps for .. what happened to the Cloud Strife he knew at least."
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Date: 2024-12-12 04:00 pm (UTC)Even if he did read it, Cloud doubts he would trust this alleged dragon from that alone either. Not with what he already has kicking around up in his mind, and especially not now knowing what one of them is from the older Sephiroth.
He feels a strange sensation on his chest and the back of his neck, listening to Sephiroth speak about his dragon- particularly when he speaks of imagining she sounds like his mother. Cloud knows this is just a young Sephiroth, long before Nibelheim, and knows this isn't what he thinks it is- but his trauma runs deep. Hearing and seeing the boy speak of his mother seems to have caused his fur to rise and stand on end. But in the end, this is a kid with fucked up circumstances, harmed by the same monster as all of them: ShinRa. Speaking of Earenk like this does, indeed feel like the smaller Sephiroth is offering up a vulnerability of his own. A light shake of the head, and Cloud focuses back in. So the dragon has a name. His, then, must as well.
Of course I do, whelp. You've been too busy working to suppress me even in my efforts to assist you to consider that.
He was indignant enough to push past the barriers Cloud put up. "Then spit it out already," He snarls back, aloud. He quickly catches the mistake, a look of horror crossing his face. "Uh, sorry, not to you," He offers to the silver-haired boy.
Four years, though, is a stark difference. Definitely a lot more than any of the discrepancies between Cloud and the older Sephiroth's stories. Four more years of isolation and ShinRa training, probably, in the boy's case. He shuffles in place a little uncomfortably at the question. This, Cloud knows, he needs to approach with the utmost care- inebriated or not. He doesn't know how much the younger knows, and isn't about to be the one breaking anything new to him.
"There's a huge four-year gap in my memory. He told me what happened then." Told him, and then the nightmares returned. "After a failed mission, ShinRa found me and the squad I went with incapacitated. Hojo took me, and apparently experimented on me for four years. Left me with severe mako poisoning that I somehow recovered from. Dunno what else he did."
He does, but that isn't something he is about to explain to the kid. Memories of the older's breakdown over revelations of Jenova flash through his mind, laced with new worries about how fucked up the circumstances are for Sephiroth, too. Plus some other push, perhaps from his dragon. Not now.
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Date: 2024-12-12 04:12 pm (UTC)The things Hojo would do with a subject nobody cared about or would notice were limitless. "Has anyone told you what mako poisoning does to the average person?"
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Date: 2024-12-12 04:49 pm (UTC)"Mentioned it a lot among SOLDIERs. It's why a lotta people failed to get in, too. Unable to handle the mako treatment. Stuff can make you into a husk, right?"
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Date: 2024-12-12 04:59 pm (UTC)This one is not. He might be young, but Sephiroth doesn't see Cloud's lingering issues with mako as a weakness, but a blatant marker of strength. After all, the blond isn't a meat popsicle right now. He can think, he can move. "Like other forms of chemical induced psychosis it preys on your thoughts and emotions and enhances them. It's why mako is used recreationally by some idiots. A good mood is enhanced, pleasure heightened, happiness or calm erasing all else. But if there's fear, or pain, or hatred or rage... those too become exponentially enhanced. It need not be a conscious concern, either. I believe it's called a 'bad trip'."
The flicker of a frown marks that he's not actually SURE about that, but it sounded right. "It ... is possible to recover from mako poisoning and its effects. Most don't, but most aren't also still able to string three words together after a fraction of the exposure you've had, so your odds are excellent, especially if your dragon helps you." His partner will certainly help. If allowed to. "... Earenk believes that even if you can't trust your own senses, you can trust your dragon, and that it would be advisable to learn as deeply as you can the sound of his voice, his advice, his experiences, so you'll know the difference between it and a hallucination. Your dragon is bound to everything you do and he has a vested interest in the best possible outcome for you because it's his outcome too." We rise and fall together, now. "Everything that harms you will harm him. Everything that helps.."
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Date: 2024-12-15 11:48 am (UTC)"So you think it's all the mako," Cloud confirms, making no indication of thinking Sephiroth is wrong. It makes plenty of sense, and hell, is probably a massive part of the issue, Jenova or not. "Guess it makes sense. As much as it as I'm gonna make of finding out the four year gap in my life was fucking this."
He's lost a lot of sleep.
Everything that helps you, helps us.
The dragon chimes in following a wave of approval at what Sephiroth has to say regarding him. Finally, someone- or someones, he assumes, knowing well the boy's own dragon is likely involved here- knocking some sense into this shattered mess of a man. He has wanted to assist the older Sephiroth in his attempts to help Cloud with his memory struggles the whole time. He lives in this mind space too, and the mess he sees and the pain it causes his host are more than enough motivation. That's not even considering the complications Cloud's symptoms creates for the both of them.
Cloud's eyes go wide, his response aimed at Sephiroth, but clearly to the voice in his head.
"If you're going to be forced to help me, spit your name out."
Indignance floods Cloud at that. Probably enough even Earenk and Sephiroth might feel it.
You speak nonsense, whelp, to assume I only wish help you for my own gain. Judging my character upon a complete lack of knowledge about me. I make my decision in spite of my own wellbeing- not that you would offer me even the barest credit for it. Close your mouth and open your ears, lest I burn them off you for taking this long to do so.
Cloud is scowling deep, but quiet now, clearly listening further.
"...Ioth. That's what he says his name is. He's pissed, but wants to help."
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Date: 2024-12-15 02:13 pm (UTC)If he could forget what he'd endured in his own lifetime, would he? Simply erase it all?
That Sephiroth is missing a significant portion of those experiments, that Cloud's infected with an alien plague, with his own genes ... might not actually affect that belief and outcome. He wasn't inherently hallucinagenic. Hadn't experienced any such thing as hearing voices.
There's a dialogue going on here that he can't hear, that much is obvious by Cloud's words and reactions, and he has no doubt it isn't an illusion. Who knows how long the dragon's been trying to help him, rejected by the fear of it being nothing more than so much smoke and mirrors.
"I don't think they're forced. I think they picked us." He had no confirmation of that beyond a distant feeling of a rumble from his own dragon. "Or at least, agreed to it." Willing participants in all of this nonsense! So what drew Earenk to him?
What drew Ioth to Cloud? "...Mm, I'd say hello but I'm not sure that works well through a proxy. I can't say I know a lot about our situation with these dragons, but I have a lifetime's experience with what mako can do. I ... know my brother is invested in seeing you at your best," the older, presumably, "But I don't know if he'll address things as directly as necessary when it comes to you. Or at all." Guilt and all. "I have no such problems, and will assist if you wish. Between the ... four of us, perhaps something can be done about the lingering effects sooner rather than later."
He shouldn't bother. Cloud's not his problem. Cloud's the other Sephiroth's problem.
Except there's still this faint tug, that he hasn't even focused on enough to realize is there. Some unconscious sense that this isn't extending a hand to a stranger, but part of himself, exactly the way it did with the older Sephiroth.
Everything that helps Cloud, helps him.