melodiesoflife | #7 | Return from the Brink

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#7 | Return from the Brink

Characters: Sephiroth & OPEN (except 8th Feb: CLOSED to Jade Curtiss)
Where/When: 8th Feb - Republic of Esdham: A makeshift clinic, 9th Feb Onwards - Aqures Ixen: Hospital
Summary: Sephiroth's ordeal out towards the Desert of Roalie has left him battered, most notably with a leg which is now broken in two places. Even with potions and white magic available, the resources at Esdham are strained in the wake of the recovering effort after the attack by the Herans. Sephiroth is later transferred to Aqures Ixen Hospital where help befitting a Hero of Light is more readily available. Still, it's going to take time for him to get back on his feet.
Warnings: Cuts, bruises, broken limbs; as expected considering. Also he's lost a good few inches from the length of his hair but probably best not to talk about that.

EDIT: Added a #3) Here

#1) 8th Feb - Republic of Esdham: A makeshift clinic [Closed: Jade Curtiss]
Late on the 7th Feb, a rush of activity had ripped through one of the makeshift clinics set up to deal with the aftermath of the attack by the Heran Empire. Someone had been found, much further out than anticipated, by one of the preliminary patrols sent out towards the oasis, and even though the medical staff on hand had tried to keep their tones hushed on account of the late hour, the clinic was already over-capacity and so the urgent healing required by a Hero of Light couldn't be kept a secret.

The unmistakable sound of rain hitting the roof of the tent, or rather the absence of it's wetness hitting his face was what greeted Sephiroth as he came around. The afterglow of a Cure-spell receding it's color as the white-mage Tarutaru currently on shift lowered her hands and offered a kind smile in his direction before leaving just as he squinted eyes first and then chanced to open them. There was no more open-sky above him; so he hadn't dreamed that patrol after all. It had been difficult to tell, given the hallucinations -that dream a few nights ago, for example- that had to have signaled that his body were finally giving up on him.

As if it were waiting specifically for him to regain more consciousness first, the pain then all came crashing back. Sephiroth had gotten an elbow under his one side -the other were in a sling tight up against his chest- but the reeling nausea, centered in particular around that deep agony of bone moving like it shouldn't put him back down prone instantly. With stars across his vision no less. He blinked, registering details as he looked down over himself. There was a plaster cast up to his thigh, and also a supportive brace around his left leg and it were elevated just slightly by way of a few pillows beneath his ankle. He couldn't feel his toes as they poked out of the bottom. He swallowed a rising sick feeling that was stirred and -for the time being- drew his focus into the roof of the tent.

#2) 9th Feb Onwards - Aqures Ixen: Hospital [Open]
If there was something to say of the Aqurean government, they cared for their Heroes a lot. As soon as Sephiroth were out of the immediate hypothermic danger he'd been found in, arrangements had been made for his transportation to a better facility. A small airship had been arranged -no small feat considering the devastation to the airport that had been inflicted- and he'd been away.

Still, not much that Sephiroth could do with one arm still strapped in close to his chest and his leg throbbing away in it's heavy plaster cast and brace which was more often than not elevated into a position from which he couldn't miss it even if he wanted to. Talk about it being staged directly in his face. Hindsight really was 20/20, that leap had been a risk; but what was the alternative? To be killed anyway? Captured? Spencer had already informed him that some of the other Heroes had been taken. Sephiroth scowled heavily every time his thoughts were inevitably drawn that way; another failure to chip away at his pride.

His silver hair had been braided and was set down across one mostly-unblemished shoulder; it was noticeably shorter though. Having had to have had the singed ends cut away. Overall, Sephiroth sat mostly with the backrest up, alone in the ward they'd given him, in silence while the lesser injuries he had sustained; various cuts, bruises and burns, were gradually treated by potion, lotion or Cure-spells. Most often he could be found reading a book, slowly sipping at a glass of water, or reviewing some of the notes that he'd had Spencer bring him from his study area back at the house.

He hadn't the heart to have Spencer send a message to let significant others know he'd been recovered safely, as such exchanges would only lead to what he considered to be unnecessary concern; even as it became obvious that he wouldn't be getting back on his feet nearly as quickly as he would have had he been mako-infused, or so 'special' as he had been before. That and he wasn't sure he could take the pity.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Good day," Ramza replied. "I hope I am not imposing. I do not need anything. I came to check up on your hero." He held up the basket for Spencer to see.

"I brought some food. I thought it might be hard for him to prepare his own meals. But I see he is in capable hands." Or paws? He was not sure what the proper terms were for moogles. In any case, he did not want to imply a lack of faith in the moogle's care for his Hero.

Not that it were possible for a moogle to beam, but it was obvious that Spencer was pleased that Ramza had decided to drop by at all - much more so that he'd thought to bring anything along with him. They weren't stocked too poorly on food but Spencer were indeed only one pair of small paws and Angeal had been the master chef in the house before. For Sephiroth to come home to such a change of circumstances was enough on it's own, let alone that he needed to take extra care currently.

Spencer nodded enthusiastically to Ramza and moved to take the basket from the other Hero, with the intention to carry it through into the kitchen and put the contents away.

"Capable paws is right!" Though confident sounding from the small mog, it wasn't so much. Spencer had a lot of making up to do for Sephiroth. His Hero had died on him once before, and had nearly died again somewhere out from Esdham. On both occasions his moogle hadn't been able to prevent any of the actions and so he felt doubly- no, triply- more inclined to do his utmost to look after his Hero now.

"You probably know what he's like though, Kupo. One of the most stubborn for sure."

Ramza smiled at Spencer and nodded as the creature took the basket. He had not spent as much time with Sephiroth as other Heroes, but he thought he was beginning to see the type of man he was. Certainly, he did not like relying on others, which is why Ramza had come by without waiting to be called upon.

"Indeed. What can I do to assist you?" Even the most devoted moogle companion would require breaks, and Ramza was not sure who else had been by to help relieve Spencer of his burden. "Many hands...and paws...make lighter work," he reminded, in case Spencer needed any encouragement to accept his help.

To Spencer, anyone who took the initiative to come over and visit Sephiroth currently was worth his Hero's time. Being as he was not so socially inclined it gave Spencer hope that he might be coaxed out of his shell, even if it might be less than inches at a time. Sephiroth had a lot of qualities that a lot of people would appreciate, if only he allowed them to see them.

"That's very true, Kupo."

Leading Ramza into the kitchen, he set the basket on the counter top and started to unpack the contents, putting whatever it was that Ramza had brought over away in mostly bare cupboards or into the pantry if it needed a cooler environment; if Ramza wanted to assist, he wouldn't be stopped.

"Thank you." The kettle on the stove then decided to start to hiss, proof enough that his water was now boiled. The small moogle flitted quickly to the area and taking a towel between his paws, lifted it off the heat. "I was just about to take a hot drink upstairs. It's not so very warm up there -given the weather- and as you can imagine, it doesn't help very much."

"I'm not sure he'll get up today, but it'd be a shame for you not to see him as he's the reason you came over. No?"

Spencer went about setting a tray up to make tea, a particular poppy-based type with a strong -but not too heavy- scent.

"Would you like one?"

Ramza tried to help out wherever he could, but Spencer knew the layout of the kitchen, and Ramza simply did not. He ended up mostly handing Spencer the items out of the basket.

Ramza declined the offered beverage; it smelled of poppies, and he did not need any medicating. "I can carry the tray, though," he offered. It was an easy task for him, and it would be one less thing the moogle would have to do for his Hero. "If Sephiroth is resting and has no want for visitors, I can give him his drink and leave."

Still, Spencer would squeak out a 'thanks, Kupo' every so often as they went about putting the items that Ramza had brought over away in their rightful places. Between Angeal's sudden absence into stasis and Sephiroth being unable to be on his feet for very long currently, it was very much a good thing in his moogle's opinion that he would probably struggle to find out where things were being kept in the kitchen at this point in time. It was more important that he get healed up, first.

The small, pale moogle spent a moment pushing his glasses up his nose again before finishing preparing a large mug of tea which was then set on the tray. A single sugar cube was added and left to dissolve in the hot water along with the contents which needed steeping and he then nodded to Ramza, for him to take the tray. Spencer would flit in front to lead the way and at least announce Sephiroth's visitor.

"He might seem to not want the company, but I'm starting to think that he needs it, kupo." Spencer replied before starting to lead the way to the stairwell and then up into the second floor of the house. It seemed even emptier upstairs than it did on the ground floor.

"It's been quite lonely here, since he came back."

The blond took the tray and nodded at Spencer. "If he will see me, I can keep watch over him while I am here. You could take a break from your duties," he offered. He imagined it had been lonely for the moogle as well as for his hero.

He carried the tray up the stairs, following Spencer's guidance. He would wait for Sephiroth's permission before he entered the other man's room with the beverage tray.

"We'll see, kupo! It's all part of the job though mind!"

The bedroom Sephiroth occupied was at the end of the hallway, the farthest from the stairwell as it had been Angeal that offered the same to him knowing how he preferred his privacy and it was therefore removed from any unintentional interaction with any of the other housemates. It had been essential to Sephiroth, at the time, but now it seemed as if the distance were multiplied by the fact that no one else was living with him.

The bedroom door was open though and the bed inside was positioned on purpose so that Sephiroth could see down the hallway whomever might be coming toward his room. As Ramza got closer to the doorway, Spencer flitted around the other hero and rapped the back of his paw on the door frame as he entered.

Startled, where he had been staring at the weather out of the bay window to the other side of the room, Sephiroth flinched out of the daydream -quite unlike him- turned his head and blinked a few times as he saw Ramza coming along the hallway with a tray. He blew something of a long sigh out of his nose and pushed himself up on the bed more in an attempt to make himself at least look more aware. It was immediately obvious that this were one of his worse days, between the sheets being bunched all around his waist except for his plaster-cast leg which was rested up atop various pillows and a certain way that he couldn't help but to frown at having to severely set his will against the near agony that even unrelated movement was spiking.

"...good to see you." It was almost as if he had to remember how to greet a visitor, not that he was generally very good at pleasantries anyway. Overall, Sephiroth looked exhausted even if his somewhat sunken and dimmer-than-usual green eyes betrayed the very real fact that sleep wasn't much of an option either.

Ramza entered Sephiroth's room, took one look at him, and wordlessly offered him the cup of tea.

"You need not bother with pleasantries." Sephiroth looked like he had little energy for it, and Ramza was not here for a social visit. "I came to see what I could do to help you."

He stood beside Sephiroth's bed, not wanting to take a seat and have the other feel obligated to entertain him.

"Thank you." Whether he had the energy for pleasantries or not still didn't excuse Sephiroth from simple manners so he thanked Ramza as he took the tea from the tray with both hands. His upper body was still strong, and there was minimal shaking even if Sephiroth had to pay more attention in order to safely make the transit to between both of his hands, in his lap.

A small sip of the steaming cup followed with a long sigh which drained some of the palpable tension within the room away. Medicinal properties of the poppy-brew aside, the hot drink was perfectly timed. Sephiroth seemed to come around some from the stupor he'd been sat there in before Ramza had come. Somewhat lazy eyes looked over the knight as he stood there, before canting his head to a nearby stool that was positioned nearby.

"Please. Perhaps there is something I could entrust to your care, specifically."

Well, that had been easier than Ramza had thought. He hoped that Sephiroth's cooperation was not in direct proportion to the pain he was in. The blond got the sense he was not the type to accept help so easily.

He gave Spencer a quick smile as he turned away from the Hero to pull the stool forward. He sat himself down facing Sephiroth's bed.

"What can I do to assist you?" he asked.

Sephiroth didn't like accepting help from anyone when it came down to it, especially considering he was so stalwart with his own independence and getting things done on his own. Though to a certain extent, the pain he was in dulled the edges of his pride a lot and had begun to wear away his resolve over the last few days where he'd been sat unable to move very far. He'd spent three hours just to get clean earlier, only to come back to bed even more tired and achy as a result.

Logic would always win out, and there were things at the forefront of his mind that needed to be taken care of. Things that Spencer simply couldn't manage on his own. Ramza seemed a little like Cloud, in that Sephiroth felt there would be less in the way of an advantage taken out of him later on.

Spencer nodded his head and flitted back and away from the two of them in the meantime. The moogle, too, clearly had other things he could be getting on with while they talked. He was pleased also, that Sephiroth had not turned Ramza away.

"You were something of a knight, in your world, if I am to remember correctly?"

"Something like that," Ramza evaded. He did not want to get into the specifics of why he did not hold the title. He knew the fighting style, and the mannerisms of a knight, so he figured he would be able to help Sephiroth, even if he was not technically knighted.

"Is there something you need a knight to do?" he asked.

"Hm." The evasion was hard to miss even if Sephiroth were laid up and feeling worse for wear. It wasn't his place to pry though, he certainly wouldn't appreciate it the shoe were on the other foot.

"Not specifically a knight, par se. Though you strike me as the type to at least be somewhat familiar with blades, and the care that they require."

"Yes, I am well versed in the care-taking of a variety of weapons. I work at the Weapon's Shop here in the city." The topic of his job, and of whatever blade-caring favor Sephiroth required of him, was much more welcome than a deeper investigation of Ramza's social status. He had spoken of it to a few Heroes, but he was not yet well enough acquainted with the silver haired swordsman to divulge the full story of his past.

"Does your sword need looking to?" he asked.

Well there was at least proof that there was certainly nothing wrong with Sephiroth's sharp intuition. He 'hmm'ed lightly and nodded at Ramza in acknowledgment, having known there were several places that one might go to for weapons or armor work that might need doing within Aqures but never having the need to go looking for one himself. True to his perfectionist nature, such tasks could only be satisfactorily completed by the one who would wield the same and so Sephiroth had always maintained his own equipment personally.

A moment later, he tilted his head up and towards the wall behind Ramza in a directive nod. There, at just short of what would usually be Sephiroth's head height, Masamune -the blade itself wrapped in a dark blue, soft cloth material- lay across two halves of a wall mount made of solid, dark wood. The black-wrapped handle positioned towards the doorway, true telling of Sephiroth's left-handed bearing.

"She could do with a little more care than I'm currently able to afford her." He was clearly disappointed in himself due to that fact, given that he'd not hardly glimpsed the naked steel for himself since it had been delivered back from Esdham to him. Part of him didn't want to think too much into how weathered it might be due to the time they'd spent in the desert like environment.

Ramza rose from his stool and walked over to the sword rack with a nod of understanding directed at Sephiroth as he passed. The cloth-covered blade was a little over his head, but still well within reach. He drew back the cloth, and paused.

"Masamune," he gasped. He turned to the swordsman. "You wield the Masamune," he informed him, just in case Sephiroth was not yet aware of the fact. Ramza had not come to Aqures Ixen knowing who Sephiroth was (as many Heroes had), but he certainly knew of the legendary blade.

"And you will let me handle it," he clarified, taking the blade from the wall as he spoke, because it would take a better man than him to pass up the opportunity to hold one of the great swords of Ivalice legend.

He watched Ramza closely, scrutinizing him in a way that clearly indicated that the possession that Sephiroth were entrusting to his care meant a great deal to him. He blinked as Ramza turned back with the exclamation, startled a little at the reaction even as his eyes immediately flicked to the bared gleam of steel that peeked out from the cloth where Ramza had drawn it back.

"I do. And I will, unless that is a problem?" Sephiroth forced himself to look back to Ramza's face, trying to read the other mans body language as he'd simply not understood the gravity of the request. Sure, his blade was special, one of a kind really and made to his exact specifications but on Gaia at least it was the legend they became together than just the blade itself.

Ramza clutched the long blade protectively, as if he feared Sephiroth would leap up and take it from him. "No, not a problem. It is an honor to hold this blade."

He looked around for supplies to use for cleaning it. "Have you oil, and a whetstone? If not, I will go and get some." He was not about to allow this opportunity to pass him by. The last time he has encountered Masamune, he had not been able to stop and admire it. Battles to the death were inconvenient like that.

A contented smile quickly spread across Sephiroth's mouth at Ramza's reaction. Even though it was odd, that his blade be known somehow by the other man without his knowing, the high regard that he had for something Sephiroth himself treasured was a good sign indeed. He felt immediately a lot better about having chanced to ask for help in this regard, it took something of a weight off his over-worked mind as a result.

"I do-" Sephiroth tried to sit himself up straighter for a moment, peering around the modest amount of furniture in the bedroom from where he was sat while he tried to recall where he'd last seen those very important items for the upkeep of his sword. It had been a long time, before his accident, that he had been at home and doing the work there. For a moment a heavy knot of dread dropped in his throat as he thought of the barracks that had been destroyed in the blaze.

"-try-" His tone was thoughtful and he pursed his lips together while he went through the various places in his head.

"-ah. Out in the landing, in the dry cupboard."

If Ramza was to follow Sephiroth's directions, he would find the same in a medium-sized box stored on the third shelf down from all the towels and sheets. The box was tidily organized with the necessary oils, whetstone and a few other cloths- it was obvious that Sephiroth did usually tend to Masamune on his own, and was a well practiced expert at doing so.

Ramza placed the sword down carefully and fetched the supplies from the cupboard Sephiroth had indicated. He returned and sat, this time on the floor so he could spread out the cleaning materials around him.

"I have held a legendary sword before," he mentioned as he poured some oil onto one the cleaning clothes and began to clean the blade. "Excalibur, the great knight's sword, belonged to a friend of my father's. I held it when I was just a lad." He skipped over the fact that the encounter had ended with his father scolding him and him crying crocodile tears.

"I saw the Masamune of Ivalice, as well, but it was wielded by the Silver Prince, Marquis Elmdore. I wonder if it always finds its way to a silver-haired warrior," he mused, mostly chatting to fill the silence of that empty house.

Sitting on the floor meant that Sephiroth couldn't so easily watch Ramza, but he ached a little too much to lean forwards and do so - he'd just have to get by peering downcast with his eyes instead of moving too much and continue to curse internally at his own current wretched condition.

Being made of such high-quality steel, Masamune did clean easily but where it had been left untended for a while a few smudges and dried on flakes might take a little more rubbing to shift. The cleaning oils of Aqures Ixen were hardly the same caliber as those that were provided to him within ShinRa. The blade was still razor sharp however, sharp enough to slice the cloth without very much pressure at all, not to mention fingers.

"We don't have an Excalibur, where I come from, at least." He replied. Even if Ramza hadn't asked, talking about swords was one of the few topics of conversations that Sephiroth naturally could slip into.

"Silver Prince, hm." He flicked his head briefly to dismiss where his bangs had started to creep forwards on either side of his face. He couldn't help to feel amused by such a notion; he was hardly a Marquis at all even if he were unique in other ways.

"It sounds as if your world isn't so different from this one." Also musing, trying not to stare so much as Ramza handled the one possession he took as much care of as he would usually give to himself.

Ramza worked thoroughly on the blade, not quickly, exactly, but efficiently. He had cleaned enough blades to avoid hurting himself on the sharp edge.

"That is strange, don't you think?" he asked. "That one sword appears in both worlds, but not the other?" Sephiroth might not be in a position to see the amused smile on Ramza's face, but he might hear it. Ramza found the talk of swords fascinating. "I wonder if any of the other Legendary blades made it to your world."

He shrugged. "Ivalice is similar in many ways, but there are differences, too." He turned Masamune to start cleaning the other side of the blade. "More peaceful here, for one."

It was obvious even though Sephiroth couldn't really inspect Ramza while he was doing the work; the other Hero knew a lot of what he were doing. Not that Sephiroth would have trusted him even to take the sword down from the wall otherwise but these things were good to perceive first hand.

"Who's to say. By any reckoning there might well be hundreds of versions of the same world out there, let alone just to count all the different worlds in their own right." He tilted his head first one way and then the other as he considered that thought further. He had to be careful, such extending of consequences quite often brought upon a headache even when his health was in a better state than it was right now. Eventually, he blinked luminous eyes somewhere into the floor near to where Ramza was working.

"That depends, I think, on your perception of what is considered to be peaceful. For one, I see symptoms of what might come to pass here just by the fact that I've lived through the same on my own World."

"Hmmm." Ramza had never given thought to different versions of a world. He knew other worlds must exist, given that he had seen people and creatures cross between, but an alternate version of his was novel. "Perhaps in one, I could wield Excalibur," he considered.

His good cheer faltered, smile fading as he realized, in another world, perhaps he had not let young Tietra die. Not fought against his brothers. Not nearly lost his sister.

But thoughts like that served no purpose. Ramza sighed, and focused on finishing his task.

"Yes, there are whispers of war heavy in the air here," he admitted as he worked. "But I was born thirty five years into a Fifty Years War, and no sooner than peace had been obtained abroad, civil war broke out over succession of the Ivalicean throne." He was not seeking pity, just stating facts. "So, to me, Aqures Ixen and Crystallis are peaceful, and I pray our presence will help preserve that peace."

He finished his cleaning, and held the blade up for Sephiroth to examine.

#7 | Return from the Brink

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so sorry for late it seems my inbox swallowed the notif!

no worries!

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