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.

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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.

It was maybe a little more than ironic how Sephiroth himself had resisted to accept the fact that multiple alternative realities must exist. Until the one representing such a bend in the facts as he knew them had slipped away into crystal stasis. He often wondered if there were any weight in the fact that Angeal had followed Genny into the same; as if it were a punishment on him for his stubbornness.

Sephiroth blinked a few times and made a point to avert his gaze away from Ramza as his smile faded away, out of respect mostly, not being one to pry into the affairs and feelings of others. But soon the young knight continued and it was only polite to look back.

"Sometimes, conflict is the the only resolution." His less-shinier-than-usual silver head canted away from Ramza as he also considered how to put his own opinion across. Sephiroth didn't want to come across as a warmonger never mind how much he had accumulated much of his reputation on his home Planet as the same. How he clearly gave off that same signal here in Crystallis with his choice of occupation.

"I come from a time where it seemed no matter where I turned, there was always something waiting to erupt into violence. Something that needed to be put down, and quickly. Here, I find it feels a little like that, the peace we have maintained so far is stretched almost to breaking point."

As Ramza raised Masamune more up into the light, balled fists quickly found their place at either side of Sephiroth's hips as he tried to push himself up yet keep his aching leg as still as possible, so that he could take his cleaned blade from Ramza safely. So that he could inspect it closer. Yet, a sharp hiss later and the attempt was aborted and he all put froze mid-motion to wait for the stars to go from the front of his vision first before lowering himself back down.

Ramza quickly scrambled to his feet when he realized his mistake of offering Sephiroth his sword back at this angle. He placed the cleaned blade down on the bed beside the hero before he managed to do any more harm to the wounded man.

"Please, stay still," he urged. "I can ask Spencer to bring you more poppy if needed." It was a little bit panicky, as he got when he felt he was the cause of a friend's pain.

"Should've known..." The words were uttered between gritted teeth as Sephiroth's upper arms flinched noticeably with the effort it was taking for him to just not just release his weight despite the fact that he knew it would hurt the same, if not more than it did already.

"...damn."

At least there were enough room on the side of the bed next to him for Masamune to be lain alongside him while he did slowly manage to release the tension. It would just be a case of waiting for the pain to subside again now, Sephiroth had never imagined anything could possible hurt as much as he had over the last few weeks.

"It'll go off in a few..." He hoped, settling some back down into the pillows again and blowing a long exhale out of his nose. "I don't like medicating too much."

It was times like this that Ramza missed his powers from home, being able to ease pain with a chant. "What about white magic? I can fetch a healer. I know a few with such skills," he offered in a rush. He hated watching helplessly as allies suffered, even from something that was not life-threatening.

If Sephiroth had even half of his abilities and/or powers from home, the accident which had caused this would never have happened and the Herans would most likely be down an airship. With a firmly set jaw Sephiroth tore his gaze from his cast to Ramza's face again.

"White magic can only go so far in one go, I was told. Hence why we're still having to check in at the hospital every few days." He stated matter of factly, though a Cura or a Curaga spell right about now did sound inviting to him. Sephiroth then remembered his tea which was still rested on the side, and reached for it to slowly take a sip. Poppy tea was bitter and even more so when lukewarm but that too would help to take the edge off.

"I'll be fine. Don't concern yourself with it." By way of a distraction Sephiroth then turned his attention down at to his side; at the now-gleaming blade of Masamune now that she was so expertly cleaned.

"You've done a good job."

Ramza eyed Sephiroth warily, still very much concerning himself with it. But he could not force healing upon the other man- at least, not with his current freelancer job skills- so there was nothing he could do other than let Sephiroth sip his tea.

"So fine a blade deserves such great care," he said, shrugging off the praise. " 'Tis no more than you'd have done if you were able. Shall I put it back on its stand?"

He was starting to learn, maybe, that just because he didn't want someone to concern themselves with him that they might do so anyway. Sephiroth had encountered this already from a few people, most of which had taken the time to come and visit him in the hospital before. The only way to get around that particular niggle he might come to have with anyone would be to seem to ignore it where possible - otherwise he might end up offending where he didn't much care to.

"Yes, I think that would be best. Everything in it's place." He followed with a light smile and a short, if immediately more-tired-seeming nod half in Ramza's direction and half towards his sword.

Ramza took the sword in hand and crossed the room once more. He laid it carefully back across the stand and draped the cloth back atop to cover the weapon.

"You will be back in yours soon enough," he said quietly. Sephiroth already looked stronger than he had back at the hospital, and even with setbacks like the one he had just encountered, the man was on the mend.

"Will you continue in the army when you are well again?" With everything that had happened with the Imperial attack, Ramza did not know if it was wise for the Heroes to leave the city for such lengths of time.

He kept one eye on Ramza as he returned Masamune to it's stand on the wall, looking away only as he took another sip from the tea before placing it back on the side. A warm, if somewhat hazy sensation crept through him as the medicinal properties of the poppy started to do it's work. It allowed Sephiroth to relax a little more and when he looked back to Ramza again, an edge was taken from the bright alertness of his gaze. It began to look as if he might be able to sleep soon

Sleep was ever the great healer- at least that fact remained the same apparently across all worlds.

"Yes. I imagine that I will. Some might think it crazy but I do take some familiarity from the routine that it offers."

Besides, before he had enlisted Sephiroth had felt mostly lost and purposeless when it came to the mundane drawl of daily life.

Ramza did not think Sephiroth's response strange. The blond did not define himself as a soldier, had parted ways with that life before it took hold of him...but he knew how hard it was to break away from something that he'd relied on to provide order to a chaotic life. He still prayed at churches, in spite of knowing the religion he'd been raised in was founded on lies. It was the same sort of thing.

"You have faith in the military," he ventured. "If that is the path you chose, it is not crazy to want to return to it. Just...be careful, when you do."

He could see Sephiroth growing wearier. He'd not stay much longer; he did not wish to keep the silver-haired man from getting the rest he needed. "Shall I take that mug for you?" he offered.

What remained unsaid was the fact that when Sephiroth had been in the hospital, he'd assumed he'd be healed up a lot quicker than it was currently taking for him to mend. He'd expected to be on the next shuttle back to Esdham to pick up where he left off. He felt he owed that to his comrades who had fallen in the battle at least. The medal that Biggs had awarded him was bitter to think about considering his current disabled state.

Faith wasn't it, not at all, but Sephiroth's mind was quickly starting to become foggier so while he found it an odd thing for Ramza to say he couldn't quite conjure any appropriate response. Just as well that he didn't try, since as Ramza asked him about the mug, a thicker veil of exhaustion settled over his hearing and words were muffled.

"Hm?" Heavier eyes drifted over to the cup and only then he made the connection. Blinking sternly a few times Sephiroth slightly nodded at Ramza. "If you don't mind-"

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zodiac_brave - 2015-04-13 00:04 (UTC) - Expand

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#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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