[his breathing is harsh in his own ears and somewhere in the back of his mind is a litany of 'please no, please no, please no' running too fast for him to draw breath. If it runs fast enough it will keep him from being able to scream when the time comes.
His wrists are strapped in place as well as his elbows, his arms outstretched and his legs are bound in three different places just to keep them down. He knows they'll hold - because they always hold - but he jerks at them anyway and the metal and thick leather grinds and protests. He's already broken out into a cold sweat and he's shivering the smallest bit, muscles already too tense and strained. The air is full of the scent of sharp, biting chemicals and thick cloying, smothering ones and there's the unmistakable lightning strike scent of mako somewhere hidden under it all.
please no, please no, pleaseno, pleaseno, pleasenopleasenopleaseno...His pupils are dilated and huge in his mako eyes as they flick toward the sound of a voice. His throat is bone dry and his teeth ache
( ... )
as okay as absolute wrongness can be XDauncyenhaligMay 22 2011, 06:57:50 UTC
"Professor Aerith" to SOLDIER boys.
[ Aerith leaves over Cloud. She sees him; she sees through him. She doesn't see him except as a mish-mash of features. Only the musculature of a SOLDIER body lies on her table, and the trademark mako glow stares at her. There are no skies in the labs, nor are there bodyguards willing to do embarrass themselves for a childhood friend -- and in the process endear themselves to a new one.
Her tone is playful. It's not a tone Aerith would take with Cloud. There's no warmth in it. ]
You wanted to be SOLDIER. Well, you got it! But there are strings attached. There always are. You understand, right?
[ Agreeing to surgery. Throwing their lot in with Shinra. Why don't they realize something will happen?
She knows a SOLDIER can take it, so there is no point in deliberating. The scalpel rises to the exposed forearm and finds its target with just the slightest pressure, ready to cut into the flesh. ]
absolute wrongness is our speciality!findmyownreasonMay 23 2011, 05:04:22 UTC
[his eyes stare, huge and horrified in his frozen face, until she speaks. And then he blinks, just once, as her words slowly penetrate his terrified mind.
...
strings attached. There always are. You understand, right?...
Minutely, he nods, more a brief tipping down of his chin that barely moves him or the spikes of his hair.
Right. He understands. He understands that Aerith would only do this to him if he deserved it.
And he does. Gaia, he knows he does. He'd promised to protect her, he was supposed to be her bodyguard. She'd counted on him. Even though there's no liquid, he swallows thickly, huge eyes still fixed on her.
He deserves this for failing her. For failing her so many, many times. And it should be her hand to do it to him too. It's her right. He pulls a breath in through his teeth and if it shakes, he can't help that. He deserves this and he trusts her. The blade presses down and before he can stop himself, he blurts:]
Don't!
[his heart is pounding in his ears so loud he can hardly hear himself
( ... )
I'm trying to take "absolute lateness" off my menu XD;auncyenhaligMay 27 2011, 21:00:49 UTC
[ The scalpel eases at "don't", a knee-jerk reaction -- one that's out of place for a scientist. She isn't supposed to be affected by the pleas, it just gets in the way of work ... but his is different. ]
... That's strange. You want it drawn out? But you're not hoping to escape. I can see it in your eyes. Are you trying to prove how tough you are? [ She shakes her head strongly, disapprovingly. ... Not that she should really care. ]
as long as you still show up - that's what countsfindmyownreasonMay 28 2011, 08:40:17 UTC
[he watches her ease up and pause on the scalpel and the little bolt of hope goes through him before he crushes it down. Hard. He doesn't get to escape the pain and the experiments. And... this is Aerith doing what she knows he deserves. He doesn't get to want to dodge away from that. He still has to wet his lips because his mouth is as dry as the desert around Edge and his teeth shiver against each other for just a minute when he goes from the locked jaw to letting his tongue shift against his lips.]
No.
[he doesn't buy that 'proving you're tough'. Not anymore. Hasn't for... for a while now. Bragging is a sign of stupidity but more than that - he's not that tough. Everyone's got their breaking point and it doesn't matter who they are. He knows better than anyone that he shatters too easily. He's let people down and done it often enough. He still tries to keep his voice steady for her even if the tremble works it's way in toward the end.]I just - you deserve this. If it - if it means I can show you I'm sorry, I'll do it
( ... )
[he makes the quiet, cut off sound when the metal tip breaks his skin and his brows come down hard as he locks his jaw. It hurts. But no where near as badly as it's going to. Whether it's that she'll move on to enough of his body that the small pains will multiple and become unbearable or if she'll just keep sawing and peeling until she hits bone and the metal scrapes - eventually it's going to be too much for him. His blood runs down his arm, red and alive, puddling on the stainless metal of the table. It taints the air with it's copper and ozone smell, and he knows it will congeal by the time she's done, sticky and dark the same way he knows by the time that happens he'll be too far gone to care.
Tifa's going to be pissed if he comes home filthy again.
...won't fix anything...He knows that. She doesn't have to tell him but he takes the blow to his heart that she feels as if she needs to say so as another cut he deserves. Of course it won't fix anything. There's no 'fixing' someone's murder. All the places she'll
( ... )
She knew it would be there, and it still makes her wince when it oozes out. He's bleeding. On a distant level she thinks stop, heal him, but that thought never reaches the dream's reality because she isn't a healer. She's --
-- sawing in steadily, her fingers turning red, when did she forget gloves? How careless. She lets go of the scalpel for the moment, letting it rest where it is in his arm and feeling a very slight sense of nausea (this is silly, she is a scientist, she has done biopsies before!)
She looks at him, her expression guarded, but trepidation still shows through. He is looking at her. His blood is on her hands. Somehow, for all the pain and terror in them, his eyes don't reflect that fact, and -- ]
Stop it.
[ She's torn between frustration, hurt, and guilt, and that last one especially has no place in the laboratory. But when she turns away from him to the sink to clean her hands, there isn't even a single drop of water in its faucet. Turn on, turn off, turn on: nothing. ]
[she's sawing, a untrained, messy way to get to the meat and bone of him, using an instrument too small for the damage she wants to do. Without potions or materia, she'll cripple him in that arm, cutting against the grain of the muscle. He's been cut apart and open enough to know the difference and he pants between his clenched teeth in the brief moments when there's a pause, sweat leaping out against his skin as his arm instinctively tries to escape from the torture. He's locked down fast though and when she moves to the sink briefly, he's left sucking air into his tight lungs, the sound shaking
( ... )
I'm sorry if this is a letdown D: Aerith did NOT take to science wellauncyenhaligJune 9 2011, 14:49:53 UTC
[ ooc: not a surprise, pfft, but it was tougher than I thought it'd be. ]
[ It's the second time he's said her name. Not a code or number. Not a title. It reminds her that there are places outside the labs where people are treated as more than vats of knowledge or slabs of meat, and the scalpel stops its brutal sawing. She's been out there. How could she forget? ]
[ She shakes her head, her left hand brushing bangs back out of habit and shaking more than her head is. The blood spreads. ] No, it's not okay. I hurt you ... [ She looks at him again, at glowing blue eyes like skies seen secondhand, and finally sees the person. ] Cloud?
[ It wasn't a shock of horror she felt, because it was already horrifying that she was hurting someone like this. But it was a cold twist in the guts to realize that Cloud had seen her, recognized the girl he'd protected now cutting him open, and given her permission.
There were so many things wrong here. This place wasn't good for him either. It made everyone sick. ]
nonsense. I wasn't sure how much more vulnerable!Cloud/cold!Aerith I could handle myself - lolfindmyownreasonJune 9 2011, 22:00:01 UTC
(ooc. but danged was it fun!)
[she's upset and he's so much more concerned with that than the fact he's still leaking pain and blood. He winces when she wipes at her bangs and smears herself with the red of his pulse, not wanting her to end up fouled even more because of him. He's... confused. Lost. Should he have stopped her from cutting into him? He'd known it wasn't her but it had been her right. Had he made things worse for her thinking to earn a measure of penance for himself?
He'd been selfish again and paid more attention to what he thought instead of what she needed.
No matter what he does, he can't seem to do right by her. But he'll try. Gaia, help him, he'll keep trying.
And that means getting her out of here and away from all of this.]
Under the table.
[his voice comes out throaty and he clears it dryly to try to fix the sound. He tries to flex the fingers of his mutilated hand and they twitch sporadically. But he can use his swords with his other hand just as well...]They usually put the switch for the
( ... )
it was fun! I'm glad I tried it.auncyenhaligJune 10 2011, 14:55:03 UTC
[ Disturbingly enough, he's right. She hadn't even remembered. Maybe she'd never known. Children weren't encouraged to watch the operations, even if they still heard enough by living on the same floor and sometimes caught glimpses. ]
What a smart bo ... [ Can she still call him bodyguard? ] I mean, I didn't think SOLDIERs would know about this. [ Her hand finds the switch, fingers pushing it down without reservation, but she's already frowning at her words. She's rambling out of her own confusion, because there are so many strange things about Cloud already and this dream is piling on another (and she was terrible to him, but he's not even a little angry). ] It doesn't matter. You can move around now!
Your arm ... [ It needs to be cared for, even if she feels a frisson of anxiety looking at it. Then there's the flimsy and hateful lab coat on her. It's not hard to decide. She shucks the coat and begins ripping off two long strips of cloth to cover the wounds she inflicted, though she'll try healing them too
( ... )
me too! I never would have thought of this on my ownfindmyownreasonJune 10 2011, 16:12:57 UTC
[he feels the pressure from the bands loosen and he jerks upright with something akin to panic, leftover from being so helpless. With his good arm he rips the bands the rest of the way off and then proceeds to, with deadly calm and control, rip each one out of its slot. The metal edges cut into his good palm but it's worth it. For a minute - just a minute - he lets himself pretend he doesn't hear Aerith's suspicion
( ... )
/depraved mindauncyenhaligJune 11 2011, 00:08:36 UTC
[ He's certainly exercising his ability to move around. The ferocity of the gesture startles Aerith at first, but she doesn't show it besides paying a little more attention to him as she rips the bandages. Because to be honest, if she were strong enough, she wouldn't think twice about doing the same.
She's barely finished healing when he smooths down her hair; she tilts her head, easing into the gesture. There's the slight stickiness of liquid as he moves his hand, which is then felt at the edge of her ear lobe. They're all a mess and it's his blood but he says he's okay. ]
Cloud ... [ His name is murmured wonderingly as she looks up at him
( ... )
[his hand comes up and cups the back of her head as she hugs him and - for just a moment - the entire world is right again. He lets his eyes shut and tries to soak the passing moment in. But then she's letting go and stepping back and he's aware that just because he's free doesn't mean they're safe. He slips off the table gingerly, already bracing himself with his good hand when the vertigo hits. He has to fight back the urge to throw up. He's been through this too many times, come off a table like that one too many times, and it never gets easier. This time he's doing it under his own power though and there's no one restraining him or drugs coursing sick and poison through his blood. So he doesn't vomit and he raises his head even though the memories and the motion have the sweat breaking out across his skin again.
He ignores her remand to take care of himself. He's not here to take care of himself. He's here to take care of her. His eyes search the lab.]
/makes stuff up for weapon confiscation they didn't do in-game lol Shinra securityauncyenhaligJune 12 2011, 03:56:31 UTC
Steady, steady ... Cloud. [ He was going steady, but it's obvious the moment after he gets off the table that simply being here strains him so much. She stays near, her hands rising up in a way that makes it obvious she's worried he might lose balance. And he doesn't let himself rest, which makes her cheeks puff out in frustration. ] I'm serious, don't push yourself -- ! Oh.
[ His sword. It's been only them in the labs so far, but that doesn't mean it will stay that way. Aerith turns quickly this way and that, checking where it might be before she realizes and stands in front of what could be a small closet -- in fact a storage locker for confiscated items. ]
Over here, Cloud. [ There's a lock on the door, but Cloud is a SOLDIER. She thinks he can open it. ] OK, and we're resting as soon as we can. [ But not right now, because there are other people. That's how ... isn't that how she got here? It's hard to remember or keep her thought going past the here and now. At some point there was a sedative, she thinks. The real
( ... )
His wrists are strapped in place as well as his elbows, his arms outstretched and his legs are bound in three different places just to keep them down. He knows they'll hold - because they always hold - but he jerks at them anyway and the metal and thick leather grinds and protests. He's already broken out into a cold sweat and he's shivering the smallest bit, muscles already too tense and strained. The air is full of the scent of sharp, biting chemicals and thick cloying, smothering ones and there's the unmistakable lightning strike scent of mako somewhere hidden under it all.
please no, please no, pleaseno, pleaseno, pleasenopleasenopleaseno...His pupils are dilated and huge in his mako eyes as they flick toward the sound of a voice. His throat is bone dry and his teeth ache ( ... )
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[ Aerith leaves over Cloud. She sees him; she sees through him. She doesn't see him except as a mish-mash of features. Only the musculature of a SOLDIER body lies on her table, and the trademark mako glow stares at her. There are no skies in the labs, nor are there bodyguards willing to do embarrass themselves for a childhood friend -- and in the process endear themselves to a new one.
Her tone is playful. It's not a tone Aerith would take with Cloud. There's no warmth in it. ]
You wanted to be SOLDIER. Well, you got it! But there are strings attached. There always are. You understand, right?
[ Agreeing to surgery. Throwing their lot in with Shinra. Why don't they realize something will happen?
She knows a SOLDIER can take it, so there is no point in deliberating. The scalpel rises to the exposed forearm and finds its target with just the slightest pressure, ready to cut into the flesh. ]
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...
strings attached. There always are. You understand, right?...
Minutely, he nods, more a brief tipping down of his chin that barely moves him or the spikes of his hair.
Right. He understands. He understands that Aerith would only do this to him if he deserved it.
And he does. Gaia, he knows he does. He'd promised to protect her, he was supposed to be her bodyguard. She'd counted on him. Even though there's no liquid, he swallows thickly, huge eyes still fixed on her.
He deserves this for failing her. For failing her so many, many times. And it should be her hand to do it to him too. It's her right. He pulls a breath in through his teeth and if it shakes, he can't help that. He deserves this and he trusts her. The blade presses down and before he can stop himself, he blurts:]
Don't!
[his heart is pounding in his ears so loud he can hardly hear himself ( ... )
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... That's strange. You want it drawn out? But you're not hoping to escape. I can see it in your eyes. Are you trying to prove how tough you are? [ She shakes her head strongly, disapprovingly. ... Not that she should really care. ]
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No.
[he doesn't buy that 'proving you're tough'. Not anymore. Hasn't for... for a while now. Bragging is a sign of stupidity but more than that - he's not that tough. Everyone's got their breaking point and it doesn't matter who they are. He knows better than anyone that he shatters too easily. He's let people down and done it often enough. He still tries to keep his voice steady for her even if the tremble works it's way in toward the end.]I just - you deserve this. If it - if it means I can show you I'm sorry, I'll do it ( ... )
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This won't fix anything. [ She was doing this for science, her own curiosity, not misplaced penance.
This will hurt him --
But that was fine. He'd given himself up for this. For a moment, she smiles at him, in a way that could be pleasant if not for the circumstances -- ]
Thanks for the tip.
[ -- And then that smile disappears into a furrowed look of concentration as the scalpel once more touches skin, higher and away from the artery.
This time, there is no hesitation to pierce his arm, slowly cutting to expose the layers beneath.
It might not even be a desire to learn now, but a determination to prove she can do it. ]
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[he makes the quiet, cut off sound when the metal tip breaks his skin and his brows come down hard as he locks his jaw. It hurts. But no where near as badly as it's going to. Whether it's that she'll move on to enough of his body that the small pains will multiple and become unbearable or if she'll just keep sawing and peeling until she hits bone and the metal scrapes - eventually it's going to be too much for him. His blood runs down his arm, red and alive, puddling on the stainless metal of the table. It taints the air with it's copper and ozone smell, and he knows it will congeal by the time she's done, sticky and dark the same way he knows by the time that happens he'll be too far gone to care.
Tifa's going to be pissed if he comes home filthy again.
...won't fix anything...He knows that. She doesn't have to tell him but he takes the blow to his heart that she feels as if she needs to say so as another cut he deserves. Of course it won't fix anything. There's no 'fixing' someone's murder. All the places she'll ( ... )
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She knew it would be there, and it still makes her wince when it oozes out. He's bleeding. On a distant level she thinks stop, heal him, but that thought never reaches the dream's reality because she isn't a healer. She's --
-- sawing in steadily, her fingers turning red, when did she forget gloves? How careless. She lets go of the scalpel for the moment, letting it rest where it is in his arm and feeling a very slight sense of nausea (this is silly, she is a scientist, she has done biopsies before!)
She looks at him, her expression guarded, but trepidation still shows through. He is looking at her. His blood is on her hands. Somehow, for all the pain and terror in them, his eyes don't reflect that fact, and -- ]
Stop it.
[ She's torn between frustration, hurt, and guilt, and that last one especially has no place in the laboratory. But when she turns away from him to the sink to clean her hands, there isn't even a single drop of water in its faucet. Turn on, turn off, turn on: nothing. ]
[ Shouldn't be so easy ( ... )
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[ It's the second time he's said her name. Not a code or number. Not a title. It reminds her that there are places outside the labs where people are treated as more than vats of knowledge or slabs of meat, and the scalpel stops its brutal sawing. She's been out there. How could she forget? ]
[ She shakes her head, her left hand brushing bangs back out of habit and shaking more than her head is. The blood spreads. ] No, it's not okay. I hurt you ... [ She looks at him again, at glowing blue eyes like skies seen secondhand, and finally sees the person. ] Cloud?
[ It wasn't a shock of horror she felt, because it was already horrifying that she was hurting someone like this. But it was a cold twist in the guts to realize that Cloud had seen her, recognized the girl he'd protected now cutting him open, and given her permission.
There were so many things wrong here. This place wasn't good for him either. It made everyone sick. ]
[ ... need to wake up ... ( ... )
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[she's upset and he's so much more concerned with that than the fact he's still leaking pain and blood. He winces when she wipes at her bangs and smears herself with the red of his pulse, not wanting her to end up fouled even more because of him. He's... confused. Lost. Should he have stopped her from cutting into him? He'd known it wasn't her but it had been her right. Had he made things worse for her thinking to earn a measure of penance for himself?
He'd been selfish again and paid more attention to what he thought instead of what she needed.
No matter what he does, he can't seem to do right by her. But he'll try. Gaia, help him, he'll keep trying.
And that means getting her out of here and away from all of this.]
Under the table.
[his voice comes out throaty and he clears it dryly to try to fix the sound. He tries to flex the fingers of his mutilated hand and they twitch sporadically. But he can use his swords with his other hand just as well...]They usually put the switch for the ( ... )
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What a smart bo ... [ Can she still call him bodyguard? ] I mean, I didn't think SOLDIERs would know about this. [ Her hand finds the switch, fingers pushing it down without reservation, but she's already frowning at her words. She's rambling out of her own confusion, because there are so many strange things about Cloud already and this dream is piling on another (and she was terrible to him, but he's not even a little angry). ] It doesn't matter. You can move around now!
Your arm ... [ It needs to be cared for, even if she feels a frisson of anxiety looking at it. Then there's the flimsy and hateful lab coat on her. It's not hard to decide. She shucks the coat and begins ripping off two long strips of cloth to cover the wounds she inflicted, though she'll try healing them too ( ... )
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She's barely finished healing when he smooths down her hair; she tilts her head, easing into the gesture. There's the slight stickiness of liquid as he moves his hand, which is then felt at the edge of her ear lobe. They're all a mess and it's his blood but he says he's okay. ]
Cloud ... [ His name is murmured wonderingly as she looks up at him ( ... )
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He ignores her remand to take care of himself. He's not here to take care of himself. He's here to take care of her. His eyes search the lab.]
I need my sword.
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[ His sword. It's been only them in the labs so far, but that doesn't mean it will stay that way. Aerith turns quickly this way and that, checking where it might be before she realizes and stands in front of what could be a small closet -- in fact a storage locker for confiscated items. ]
Over here, Cloud. [ There's a lock on the door, but Cloud is a SOLDIER. She thinks he can open it. ] OK, and we're resting as soon as we can. [ But not right now, because there are other people. That's how ... isn't that how she got here? It's hard to remember or keep her thought going past the here and now. At some point there was a sedative, she thinks. The real ( ... )
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