towerofanimus | (no subject)

Characters: Sephiroth and whatever unlucky individual happens to be present/cross his path
Setting: Begins on the Dorm level, moves to the First Floor, finishes on Sixth Floor
Format: I'm partial to prose, but tagger's choice
Summary: ShinRa's General just found his sword. Hint: It was in his trunk, in four separate pieces. :/
Warnings: Just as soon as he can get away from anything important and/or breakable, Sephiroth's temper is going to explode. Materia will be blazing out over the forest on Floor Six; enter at one's own risk, at least until he calms down.

Those infernal bastards dared. Kneeling before the odd-looking trunk at the end of his assigned bed, Sephiroth stared inside with wide, unbelieving eyes. Ignored were the more common items packed tightly within, but the dullness of unpolished silver twinkled sullenly from the trunk's far corner.

The Masamune, Sephiroth's beloved blade, the only weapon he'd ever held aside from training blades when he'd been just a cadet in SOLDIER...lay in four jagged pieces, flat, unlovely, broken.

He reached inside to reverently pick up each, fingers trembling minutely, sitting back on his heels when all four pieces lay in his arms, its killing song seemingly silenced forever. Incredulity washed over him, only to be quickly replaced by a slow simmering fury. They had dared! Sephiroth snatched up a towel and gently wrapped the broken blade in it, rising to his feet quickly, not really seeing the dorm room; red swam in his vision.

Out the door and to the elevator, wrapped bundle in his arms and thunder brewing in MAKO eyes, he strode down the hallway with death-knell strides, sparing not a sideways glance for anything but his destination. The first floor was insufficient. ShinRa's tall General swept through the rooms briskly, normally stoic countenance dark with barely contained rage. He finally located the stairwell and took the steps two and three at the time, temper escalating with every giant stride.

Reaching the Sixth Floor, he stepped through its door, took stock of his surroundings, placed the bundle down carefully, then stepped away and towards the dark trees. The bangle on his arm flashed with surging power as Sephiroth's rage hit the materia; the silver-haired SOLDIER disappeared into the dark fire and crackling storm.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Mind that hand, Zack Fair," Sephiroth snapped without turning around. The mention of the Masamune had his fists clenching again, the fire-orange materia orb at his wrist glowing eagerly in response to his still smoldering ire. It only needed direction.

To his credit, Zack didn't flinch away. He did flinch, but it was with an ease that belied just how nervous he was that he withdrew his hand and started listening to the Barrier singing protection in his mind, now primed and ready to cast if that fire came up in his direction.

"Then with all due respect, General, I'm going to have to ask you to calm down. You might bring the upper levels down if you keep this up."

Zack had no doubt that the exploding balls of fire and crackling electricity could be felt on the levels closest, and if the trees were all that were supporting everything above...well. Not even they'd survive that, let alone anyone else on the way down.

In actuality, Sephiroth didn't give a damn if the Tower did come crashing down around their ears. Such would be far preferable than to remain trapped in this nightmare, anyway. Stress was something he rarely handled well, evidenced by the burning foliage all around. Angeal, I need you...!

But even that desperate plea was to be unanswered, for that calming presence had been forever removed from both his life and that the man behind him. Even now, the knowledge still hurt.

Sephiroth took a deep breath, held it...then finally, slowly, released it, shoulders lowering fractionally as tension bled from his large frame. Although he didn't right away answer - several minutes ticked by before he trusted his voice enough - when he spoke, his tone was hushed, but oh-so-flat, nearly sullen.

"...I've located the Masamune."

Zack himself is still tense for a few moments after Sephiroth slowly calms down, Barrier still calling to be used, but that passes as quick as it comes once Zack realizes the threat has passed, and his voice is quiet as he speaks, hands limp at his sides. He doubts Sephiroth would appreciate physical contact right now.

"I know. I saw it." And what a mess it was. How that sword had even managed to be broken, Zack couldn't understand. It had seemed like Sephiroth himself; unbreakable, unyielding. But as the last few minutes had shown, both were equally breakable and that meant...Gods. Zack didn't know what it meant but it was terrifying.

"But we can get it fixed, man. There's a workshop upstairs; if we can find somebody who knows what they're doing, I'm sure it can be repaired."

Black gloved hands clenched again.

"My sword, Zack." The utmost blasphemy. Sephiroth would have rather lost a body part than suffer that blade to be broken.

But then...the pup was right. What was broken could be repaired, sometimes stronger than what had been before. Weren't he and even Zack living, breathing proof of such?

Another long sigh. "I sincerely hope so, my friend. I truly do." His sanity might just depend on it.

Zack nods at that, looking back to the entrance and the bundle that lies there, untouched by the damage that surrounds the two SOLDIERS. He's not a blacksmith. He can't fix that. But he can try and help Sephiroth, and so this time he reaches out to put a hand on his friend's shoulder to give it a gentle squeeze. Sure, they're both a mess and it shows, but they have each other to lean on. Isn't that what matters?

"There's a guy who's making a sword for me. Do you want me to ask if he can fix yours?"

He's not sure if Equius's talents lay in repairing so much as creating, but if he's spent that much time in the workshop, he should be at least capable of pointing them in the right direction.