G's and S's

Knowing she had no further time to think on things as the man took a step towards her, Sirra lifted one of her guns to shoot the control room window, shattering the whole thing. In the next moment, she jumped for the edge of the window as she holstered her guns. She already knew her hands had to go down on the console just in front of it, her feet had to go on the ledge itself (otherwise she'd cut her hands on the sharp glass still stuck in the frame), and she had to immediately launch herself at the crane hook, which was only just barely in her reach. When she caught hold of it, she felt her body weight start dragging it downward, even as her momentum caused it to swing forward. She also knew it wouldn't last—if Gorgon had half a brain, he'd hit the control mechanism to stop the cords from lowering.

Sure enough, he did a few moments later, as she was reaching the end of her swing, which actually caused her to smirk. As she felt the jolt of the hook being halted, she kicked her feet forward, and released the hook so she could follow the momentum into a flip. The flip let her get her hands down first so she could absorb her landing impact by tucking and rolling, and come back up to her feet. For the most part, it also worked—

Until she felt a wave of cutting power hit her back mid-roll, and felt herself being thrown several feet from where she had been, and landing hard on her side and back. Like when the door had burst from its place earlier, she knew she had to move, so quickly forced herself to crawl for the nearest shelter—one of the stacks of crates in the room. Once she was behind the stack, she leaned heavily against the nearest one, panting with a hand over her mouth to reduce the noise. Her whole body hurt, so she activated Cure 3 to see to her injuries as she tried to recover, her gaze moving towards the damaged floor where she had been.

It looked like the same kind of damage the General and Commanders did when they unleashed some of their stronger abilities and their Limit Breaks. Thinking back to the two who had gone after the Rui girls, or at least after Shelke, she also realized they had been very lucky to get away, and these weren't run-of-the-mill SOLDIER types or some random Mako enhancements. She really had no idea what she was dealing with, and a test of Sleepel on him told her he had some method of being immune to status effects.

His damage ratio was huge, and if his temper was anything like it had been in the past, he wouldn't wait long before starting to destroy things. Though, that also would have the benefit of destroying any weapons Fuhito would have grabbed, so maybe she could use that? Either way, as she heard him laugh, she knew she couldn't stay where she was—he was far too close to her now.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are, little mouse," he taunted in an almost sing-song, smirking tone. He'd called her a mouse last time, too. She began moving, recovered enough to move into a low, silent jog behind the crates, knowing she was in very dangerous territory. "What, no commentary? No denial?" he prodded, sounding very amused that time. "Yes, you know your place under me now, don't you?"

She sneered at the words—only for the crates where she had been resting before to splinter with the force of whatever he'd hit them with. Back when she'd first met him, he'd fought with a spiked mace which he had modified (or had someone modify for him) to become a spiked chain mace for greater range and maneuverability. She wasn't sure if he was still using one, but probably. The door had just been a fist, but now that there was a 'combat' situation, he'd probably pulled out his actual weapon.

By then, she'd reached the other end of the stack of crates and could peek around it. Yes, he had a spiked mace, with the chains dangling from it which indicated it was also the chain type. But, he also had a high-powered rifle on him which was in a style she'd never seen before. How had she not seen either of those weapons when he'd stepped from the room upstairs? Thinking back, she realized he hadn't been wearing them—chances were, he'd only picked them up before following her down to the lower floor. His expression was already turning annoyed, so she drew her guns, darted across the open space to the next stack, and shot at him as she went.

It was useless as he spun in her direction and stopped all six shots she'd gotten off either on his mace, or just let them hit his arms. She kept moving as she reached the shelter of the boxes—only to feel an impact which threw her back against the wall of the warehouse as the crates between Gorgon and her exploded violently. Her guns hit the floor and were promptly covered by debris, even as several sharp pieces struck her chest, arms, and legs. While gritting her teeth kept her from screaming in pain, it didn't stop her own keening, pained sound from reaching her ears, though she hoped the sound of the still-falling and settling debris covered that.

Still, she had to force herself to move, the dust in the air her only cover and every motion agony with bits of wood and metal sticking out of her body. It wasn't until she'd managed to get behind the next set of crates that she let herself collapse, just resting for a moment before she pulled out some of the worst of the objects stuck in her. Worst as in, causing the most pain and doing the most damage. It only took a few moments, teeth gritted against the pain the whole time, before she could finally cast Cure 3 on herself. That stabilized her enough to move again, to head into the corner and around the side of the stack of crates there, where she stopped again to pull the rest free and finish the healing. Thank all of Ifrit's Hellfire that she'd learned such actions and focus as a Turk or Gorgon would have already won.

"I'm getting tired of this cat and mouse game, Ratri. Just get over here and let me fuck you to death," Gorgon snarled—he'd just realized she wasn't where he'd figured she would be. And anyone who would actually do what he had just demanded would have to be a major fucking moron, so she just gave an amused smirk and crouched low to keep moving along the crates to reach the door to outside.

Suddenly, there was another snarl, wordless and furious, and she instinctively ducked, covering her head and neck with her arms. It was a good thing she had, as the building rocked and absolutely everything in the room splintered in all directions. Her ears ached from the sheer noise volume, and while there was no heat, there was a pressure which physically and painfully forced her down. Dust filled the air to the point where she couldn't see a damned thing, or even barely breathe, and several pieces of crates and whatever had been in them had landed on her.

By the time it all stopped, she was actually scared to look up and see what had happened, but as had been her companion that whole night, a spike of fear warned her she had to move. That time, she didn't stop to think. The moment she could get her body moving, she shoved herself up and bolted straight for the door, only to find it locked. Before she should try to break it open, she felt like she had to move, so dodged to the side, only barely missing being hit by the head of his mace. It did not, however, destroy the door or the wall—it stopped just short of that.

A glance around the room showed scraps, none higher than a foot tall, and most not even that. There was nowhere for her to hide, and staying against the wall would be more harmful to her than getting out into open space. When Gorgon tried to cut her off, she dove aside (and got several small cuts out of the deal in all the debris) and bolted for the middle of the room.

Only to feel sudden weight on her back, forcing her to the ground on her belly and pinning her down. Gorgon was on her legs, hands gripping her wrists, and she began having flashbacks to the last time as he chuckled—that same cold, cruel sound—and said, "Gotcha."

Shaking off the flashbacks—there was no way she would just let him do that to her again—she focused on what she had left to use. Two daggers. One was too small to kill with, but it could damage vital points like tendons and arteries. If he had the kinds of enhancements she felt he did, chances were those would be temporary, but they would still hurt like all kinds of Hellfire and give her much-needed time. Whether she could use them or not was dependent on what he figured the best way to keep her subdued was, and he wasn't the brightest bulb in the box in that regard.

He proved it as he moved one hand to her head to hold it down (painfully, yes, but she could deal, especially with all the adrenaline in her system right then) and moved the other to her waist. She reached up for the arm holding her head, aiming to have her wrist lined up with the tendons and arteries on the underside of his arm. Since she used the hand where she'd hidden the small dagger, he literally didn't see it coming as she flexed her wrist in just the right way to cause it to shoot upward into his arm. He shouted in surprise and pulled his arm back, so she forcibly rolled to her side and bent so she could reach the backs of his ankles. Even Mako couldn't completely fix a hamstring. She brutally slit the backs of both of his ankles as deeply as she could, ignoring how his still functioning hand tried to yank her back and how he yelled in pain as she did.

In the next moment, she let him pull on her, just so she could jab that dagger into his other wrist the same way she had the first. "You bitch!" he snarled at her, several times, as he worked to force his hands to her throat to try to strangle her with hands which wouldn't close. It still hurt and somewhat worked from pressure alone, but with him leaning over her in a blind rage, she could easily drag her small dagger across his throat, which also forced him back before he could do any more damage to her. It was only then when she forced herself to sit up as she drew her proper dagger and stabbed his heart so he would be forced into unconsciousness, and only after he fell did she sever his head from his body.

Everything went still and silent for a moment, and she just sat there, trembling as she tried to process everything that had just happened. The feel of someone else's healing magic caused her to start and look up and around in fear—only to stop when her gaze fell on a worried-looking Ruluf as he slowly, cautiously approached her.

"Are you okay, Sir?" he asked gently. "Need a hand out of here?"

"Just—fucking leave me alone," she replied, keeping her voice low as she tried to pretend her hands weren't shaking.

For a long moment, he just stared at her, then asked, "Are you sure that's the best idea right now?"

"Why are you worried now?" she asked bitterly. "Instead of when he was trying to—to—"

"I was getting rid of anything Fuhito could have gotten and killing their boss, who, by the way, would have shot you just enough to maim you so he could watch the show of that guy raping you," Ruluf replied bluntly, motioning at the walkway above, on the side opposite the control room, where the man in question was laying on the walkway, dead and with a gun still in his hand.

"And that was after getting caught in his Limit Break, too, just so you know." He turned his back to her long enough for her to see the damage he had taken as well. "Believe me, I'd have helped you if we didn't have AVALANCHE chomping at the bit to get in here, and they have some people with them the likes of which I've never seen before, and I don't want to tangle with those—whatever they are, which are probably not far off this guy. What was with him, anyway?"

...She didn't want to tangle with any other guys like the one she'd just fought, either. And, she was in no shape to, so maybe he'd had a point. She also had to acknowledge the fact that, in her desperate battle against Gorgon, she'd completely forgotten Ruluf had been planning to be there to try to handle the Fuhito end of things.

With a small sigh, she said, "We have—a history. I was only seventeen then, barely started as a merc...You can guess it didn't go well. For awhile, he vanished entirely, and I made a habit of keeping track of him so I could avoid him, but...His belt buckle has the same mark on it as the belts of the two fake SOLDIERs who tried to go after the Rui girls." She blinked when his eyes widened and his face notably paled.

Ruluf nodded and said, "I'll pass word on. Is there anything I can do to help you?"

"Yeah, you can get out of here so it doesn't look like we're working together," she muttered, looking away and slowly rising to go back to the area where she thought her guns were. When she heard him sigh faintly, she added, "Thanks for the heal, though. I don't think I'd have remembered to do that on my own after what that Hades-be-damned fucker put me through..."

He gave a faint snort and replied, "Fucker, literally." She blinked, but didn't turn back to him, wanting to find her guns and get out of the building before her strength ran out. "If you're sure, I'll go then." She just nodded, and soon after, she felt his presence fade.

Only about five minutes after that, she'd found her guns and made her way to the door she'd tried to leave by earlier. Shooting the lock off it, she took a moment to steady herself and straighten with her usual assuredness, then made her way to the merc's residence in Sector Six. She'd turn it in when she woke up in the morning.

FoWD

Genesis was practicing with several of those in his unit when he felt someone watching him, and glanced over at the door to see Sephiroth there. When their eyes met, the General made a slight motion with his head which reminded the red haired man of a 'come here' motion. Checking the time showed him it was nearly noon anyway, so he called a halt to the practice and sent the others ahead of him to freshen up and eat before he stepped into the hall.

Sephiroth had waited just outside the door, so he asked, "What did you need, General?"

"Could you please stop calling me that?" Sephiroth asked in reply with a tired sigh.

With a blink and scowl, the older man snapped, "That's not what you came here for."

"No, but that point is no less valid," the silver haired man answered dryly. "I offered you lessons on your new abilities. I believe you have the rest of the day free?"

"Barring an emergency mission, yes," Genesis agreed, wondering what kind of lesson would actually take the whole day.

"Once you've eaten and packed up something for supper, meet me on the landing pad on fifty-nine," the General told him. "This will be the longest lesson, but anything else, even unexpected abilities, should be easier to handle once you have the foundation. If you don't already have a mission, Lazard won't give you any until after we've returned—I've already talked with him about it."

With a surprised blink, Genesis had to assess the statement, but finally, he offered tentatively, "I'm really not in the mood for cafeteria food today, so would you rather join me in town for lunch? We can both order something half-decent for supper that way, and leave from almost anywhere in the city. Otherwise, you'll be waiting for a pretty long time for me to get back."

To his surprise, Sephiroth paused to assess the invitation, but then asked, "Do you know of a place in the city we can leave from which is both out in the open and likely to be deserted?"

"The rooftop of the theater on LOVELESS Avenue," Genesis answered in amusement. At the younger man's raised brow, the red haired man elaborated, "I go there so often I've pretty much appropriated the roof, and I've even sometimes spent the larger part of a day up there. The only thing they might be surprised by is how someone other than Angeal or Kunzel is with me. We could even return there and step back inside from the rooftop, giving us the perfect alibi."

Sephiroth chuckled at the term and answered, "We're planning a lesson, not a criminal heist. Though, due to the current factions we belong to, the alibi would make them think we were arguing over the meaning of LOVELESS, so...I suppose we can do that."

With a small nod, Genesis said, "Wait for a bit while I freshen up, then—I should only be about twenty minutes, tops."

At the sliver haired man's nod, the other SOLDIER headed for the changing rooms as well, where most of the guys were just finishing up and heading out. He quickly did so as well, grateful that Shinra staff laundered clothes left in the locker rooms, too—it meant SOLDIERs and Turks always had fresh, clean clothes to change into after their training or after missions. He'd managed to replace his coat through Angeal while he'd been in the hospital, so he felt like himself again by the time he'd had a quick shower, dried off, and dressed in his uniform with his new red leather coat over it (though he still had to break it in). Finally, he rejoined Sephiroth, and the two headed out of the Shinra building as they discussed some places they could eat near the theater.

When they finally chose a place, it was due to the simplicity of neither of them having been there before and the fact that they'd stopped to 'argue' right outside its doors. While the food was fantastic, the company was both awkward and somehow pleasant, given how they weren't trying to antagonize one another anymore, but it was a major learning curve for both of them to interact in such a way.

Then, Sephiroth asked, "So if words, or what you call 'syntax', are so important, would you actually say there's a difference between someone saying the phrase 'I'm sorry for the trouble I caused' or saying 'I'm sorry I committed such-and-such crime'?"

Genesis sat back and said bluntly, "There's a huge difference between them. In fact, when a person says the first, what they're saying sorry for is having gotten caught. That's why the President says it that way when he gets caught cheating on his wife or someone in, say, the Science Department gets caught doing illegal experiments. He's not sorry he did the action—or let it happen—but if things had gone according to plan, he wouldn't have been caught, and if he hadn't been caught, there'd have been no issue in the first place. Someone who says they're sorry for committing the crime by name normally means it, at least temporarily. If they say the first, you have no reason to trust them, at all. Why?"

The silver haired man looked genuinely surprised by the response, then asked, "So...people like Dante got away with doing what they did for so long because we were all misinterpreting their 'apologies'?"

"That's what they count on to get away with shit, even the President, and even Mayor Domino. Actors, singers—people who are famous or in positions of power—they all make a habit of it, though the common man does it, too," the red haired man affirmed. "The men in my unit can't get away with it when they talk to me, so they either leave or keep it tightly under wraps, but I only have that kind of authority over so many, and Dante was one of Angeal's. Since Angeal intrinsically doesn't get manipulation, he completely misses wording flaws."

"And while I catch some of them, I also miss some—and this was one of them..." Sephiroth sighed faintly as he looked a bit miserable.

"What made you ask that, though, if you didn't think anything was wrong with the wording?" Genesis asked curiously.

At the words, the younger man brightened and gave the other SOLDIER a small, wry smile as he said, "Rufus commented to me not long ago that you seem adept at 'turning words', and as much as I didn't 'know' something was wrong with their wording, I guess I started to question that after the incidents with Auryn—er, he's being called Edward now, isn't he?"

Genesis had to grin and say, "Yes, he's taken his old name back." Then his face fell a bit and he added, "I guess that would have been a warning for the whole of SOLDIER, and while I don't regret killing Dante, the fact that there could be others like him—it's not a pleasant one."

"Definitely not," Sephiroth agreed. "How do you stop them from doing it?"

"By not letting them get away with apologizing for getting caught, to start," the red haired man answered in vague bemusement. "But that's only half of the task, and giving out cleaning chores, even utterly disgusting ones, normally doesn't help, so I tend to—spar with them, instead. And I don't go easy on them."

"You hospitalize them," the silver haired man scowled.

The older man shrugged. "Once." When Sephiroth blinked, he explained, "Men learn not to commit a certain act because they learn to associate committing it with feeling a lot of pain they would rather not feel, even with our enhancements. By extension, they stop doing it. So, when I know they've committed a serious offense—or a minor one once too often—I spar with them, and I don't hold back. They get a single 'bashing' as a punishment, but I'm careful not to go overboard to the point where they won't recover, and once it's done, they can get on with their lives, knowing what they'll get if they do it again. It resolves it more quickly, and I have very few repeat offenders."

"...Is that why no one, not even Lady Shinra, says anything against your method?" Sephiroth asked in shock, not having realized there was actually a valid reason for the other man's periodic fits of rage.

"Yeah," Genesis agreed, still looking somewhat bemused. "What did you think that was?"

"...The President pulling strings to make sure his poster boy didn't get dinged for an uncontrollable temper," Sephiroth admitted, and his expression was clearly ashamed.

The red haired man sighed as his shoulders slumped, but he said bluntly, "And if you'd checked my own disciplinary records, you'd have seen that I got soundly disciplined by the President for a very real fit of temper early on. It's a public record, in fact, and the three people I hurt included a Turk and two paper-pushers from Secretarial. I may be his poster boy, but it's for exactly that reason that he couldn't let me be out of control. I'm only not being punished for my burnout fit because there was a tangible reason for why that happened, one which wasn't my fault. But if your opinion of me is so low...what are you actually expecting out of these lessons?" He felt miserable asking it, but he knew he'd feel worse if he didn't, and he wondered again why the General was subjecting himself to the presence of someone he so reviled.

For a long minute, the younger man was quiet, but then he said softly, "Since your burnout, since I spoke to you that day about these lessons, I'm starting to realize Rufus had reason to call me shallow for having so poorly misjudged you as a person. I can't just fix that all at once, but I'm hoping we'll be able to at least start fixing it as a side-effect of these lessons. What I 'expect' out of them is that you'll apply yourself to them the same way you do to your combat and magical skills, because that's essentially what this is. Even before I realized how wrong I've been about you, I knew you'd at least apply yourself well to something which will help you fight better. That was never the issue."

For a long moment, Genesis just stared at him in shock before managing a small, "Holy Alexander and Hellfire..."

"What?" Sephiroth asked in annoyance. "I was trying to be serious and—"

"Gener—..." the red haired man began, cutting him off, then he paused and started again, "Sephiroth, I don't think you realize you're the first person who ever thought they may have misjudged me, and you're the first person who ever apologized for it. I have no precedent, and I don't know how to respond to you because—this doesn't happen. If someone's decided I'm flawed, they never change their minds." He paused again and gave his head a shake, eyes suddenly feeling moist, even as the silver haired man just stared at him in shock. "I don't know how to answer you."

After a short silence, the other man commented, "You might want to start by facing whatever emotion has affected you so strongly that it brought tears to your eyes."

Genesis gave him a faint smile, knowing already that it was a reaction to the sudden change in his situation, a sudden release of a pressure he'd always felt. It was old pain and new hope, it was a sense of being lost and a sense of finding his way home after a long time away. There were layers upon layers of emotion attached to it, and if he'd been in his own room, he'd have wept, but here in a public place, he couldn't allow himself that luxury.

So he just said, "I think you forged the frame of a bridge crossing the gap between us."

Sephiroth gave him an amused, grateful look, and replied, "It figures you'd make it sound so poetic."