Behind Black Curtains
An AU, Sephiroth and Tifa fanfiction
- by Amaranthos-
Chapter 21: Bad Wednesday tidings
The cold was truly getting to everyone. Dismal grey skies seem to spew white flakes of snow everywhere; as far as the eye could see. The glass of the window is completely chilled as the snow covers everything in an opaque white.
I turn from the gloomy sight to one of a pleasant surprise. In front of me is a sleeping Sephiroth.
He hasn't much to do these days since he's been pardoned from all war activity. It was the perhaps the one good thing I actually commended Velrog for.
Sephiroth, best deserved a holiday.
He is an excellent soldier but more precisely, an excellent General.
He peacefully sleeps and I notice the small rise and fall of his chest. Comfortably sleeping, I think everyman, no matter how dark their soul is, should at least sleep softly once. I know, it's something quaint and simple, but I've heard about soldiers suffering from paranoia and psychological war effects. Most of them couldn't lead normal civil lives anymore, a sad truth as they disappeared into the background of society, the very thing they were trying to protect. And they just stay there, forgotten. Decaying as some distant reverie of yesteryear.
As a pacifist, I see all good in men. Especially the kind like Sephiroth.
I have to.
To be opaque in a world like this is to hate everyone you see. But as I've learned with many, never judge a man for what the world has cast onto him. Most people get a very arrogant perception about the world. Assuming it unmistakably as a horrible place.
I beg to differ. It is the people in the world that make the world the way it is, but even the people in the world need help no matter how much they decline it. It was because I was taught to understand this tiny rare truth… I see life in different shades.
Everyone deserves a chance…
I approached Sephiroth silently, looking at him berating myself for in some way lusting over him. It's not that I was lusting over him; rather it was the way I seem to look at every part of him. I seem to notice every flaw, every perfection… everything sometimes. He was a remarkably stunning person. Sometimes, when we made love we would stop and kiss so slowly. So painfully…deeply.
It was raw, hungry yet passionate.
Sometimes I don't know what to make of my emotions for Sephiroth. Had I adored him this much, so much? Was it all together something more? I questioned myself over and over, asking where do I lie in this war? To be with someone like Sephiroth is to let go of what I came from and almost certainly go against the grain; to be obtuse of the rules of pacifism.
My people, my father – they would never see kindly to this connection rather they would dismally interpret it as a manifestation of my introverted lusts. But there I say it… though my heart labours and pleads me not to … I feel a strong affinity for Sephiroth.
When did I give myself the chance to feel like this? I couldn't grab the reason… all I knew was I wanted him… needed him.
I laughed silently at the thought. I've never needed anything, and here it is lying in front of me.
I smiled.
"Are you alright, Lockhart?" he asks with closed eyes.
I jumped. I'm alarmed he's waking.
"Y-You're …awake?"
He opens his eyes, green glowing eyes stare intently at me.
"I don't sleep, much"
I nodded.
"Something's on your mind?"
I shook my head.
How could it be that I'm standing in front of an assassin and yet totally calm?
I'm terrified this I know… but what does it do to me? Does it make me quake and run away or something else…
He beacons for me and I draw closer to the edge of the bed. He focuses on me and I remain collected under his gaze.
In a fluent motion he pulls my hand and brings me landing flat on the bed. He pins me beneath him eyeing me tentatively. I look up, silver locks falling down his shoulder and how beautiful he is.
I held my breath as he examined me. All of me…
He lies there examining the petite woman. His eyes savouring her innocence, and he swallows. Something about her seems wrong. Her features are tense. He pins her into the bed and stares deeply into her eyes. He wants to know. Slowly, he leans into her. Hesitantly she advances closer, the distance between them slowing coming to a close.
She's beautiful. Her eyes, her lips, her scent.
He inhales her scent. Her scent like madness itself to him. She makes him so careless, so hungry, so wound up…so tired yet so delirious.
He cups her chin and his callused thumb – cold and firm, slides across her wet lips. He leans forward, their heads averting closer. He parts her lips with his thumb as Tifa's breath in caught in her throat. It felt like they were suffocating as they held their breath and readied themselves. Even now she felt a fear in her body for him. She stares at his lips and then they met - perfectly, harmoniously. Her eyes close momentarily under the tenderness of their kiss.
He returns to her lips crushing his mouth against hers… hungrily, tiredly, yearningly. Seeking all her sweetness, all of her innocence, all she had to offer him.
And he drinks her in, taking those tender lips against his rhythmically. His tongue probes into her mouth and he's delighted to find her sweet moans. He buries his tongue in her mouth, beaconing for hers to come play and she obliges. Her small arms find themselves around his neck, holding him tightly. The passion burns between them as their lips crush each other, savouring dark bliss.
And his hand quickly slides over her legs. His nails drag down her perfect, slender thigh. She hisses, arching herself into him. Looking at him she finds those eyes. The hungry ones, the ones that kissed and bruised naked flesh; those are the eyes she loves…
And like before she forgets the fear.
"Dearest Scarlett, what are you doing?" Rufus asks, interested at the twirling blonde woman.
Today she was extra buoyant considering for the past couple days the Black Crescents household seem to be on edge due to the recent discovery of the Mechs.
She spares a soft smile and she twirls all the way to his side. Rufus notices the woman. She seemed to be happy. In some way, it annoys him she can actually twirl herself into his room knowing the current state of affairs, but then again he would remind himself Scarlett wasn't quite apt to the status quo. He bites back the niggling irritation for the blonde woman, and instead focuses on her pretty frame. She is quite an attractive thing, not at all ugly. For the most part, Scarlett had become the woman he could sensually indulge his fancies with. She herself, also had a thing or two for dirty fancies.
"Good news my darling, good news" she slides a report across the shining black table. He tenderly opens the report and prepares himself to be excited. He intently scopes the letters and then a smile comes to his face. It broadens and then he begins to laugh. Heartily his laughter rings. It's like music, thought Scarlett.
She plops herself boldly into his lap and for a moment he pauses and ruthlessly kisses her. He pulls back.
"Excellent. Alas things are finally looking up for us." He seems to shout a victory.
Scarlett nimbly touches her lips. His kisses could burn holes in her. They were always, sadly, so short. Scarlett removes herself, knowing Rufus was jumping for joy.
He stands up and walks to the large window.
"Soon Red Hearts will feel our wrath. The battlefield is changing all thanks to this machine. Soon our scientists will create a machine like no other. A disturbing masterpiece of death and technology" he pauses, "I'm proud of the scientists and analysts. They've made remarkable success overhauling the mech. How much again are we to wait before they're completed with it?" he asks, looking at her reflection in the window.
She stands up and eases herself to the folder.
"When I enquired the disposition of the Mech, the head scientist mentioned they were about 38 percent completed with the overhaul. I believe the most problematic issue they're facing would be the operating system." She pauses… -
"—What do you mean?" he turns to look at her.
She folds her arms, "the scientists don't look too please about the mech's OS. They say it's like nothing they've ever seen. The technology is beyond the roof. They have no idea what foreign programming code the OS is written in. They also have no way of finding out as the language seems encrypted. Apparently the deciphering machines have all been rendered useless due to the constant crashing of the systems. It's infuriating. We may require the expertise of Mack Knight programmers, engineers, designers. Whoever the hell was responsible for creating the language and the machine." She ends
Suddenly Rufus isn't quite sure what this report in front of him conveys. Is it a strike of good news or is it bad?
"Refresh my brain. What exactly is 38% complete?" he asks
She smiles, "the mech's body is removable. Parts can be interchanged and redesigned. Our scientists have removed some of the bodywork and improved the operability of the machine. However, when it comes to the cockpit of the mech, it's like a supercomputer. There's biometrics, and a specialized tedious system monitoring program that prevents the scientists from pressing forward. We need programmers, engineers, designers, workers – the people who made this thing." She explains.
"I've already caught on to your train" he bites his lips.
A silence fills their space, "do we have any more Mack Knight soldiers?" he asks
"Hmm, a few remain. I think 5 of them are still alive." She pauses to look down, "but their tongues are tied. We've tried your father method of brutal interrogation but these men refuse to speak. It's almost impossible with them. Even our ace interrogation squad has failed. Whoever the hell Mack Knights is, they sure know how to hold their tongues" she confesses -
"—I don't need to know that Scarlett. It's obvious they won't speak. They've formed a trusted alliance with Red Hearts and they won't speak, they won't utter a word about anything. Not even death frightens these men." He storms, "have we no options, none what so ever?"
"I'm afraid not" she softly speaks, fearing his fire tantrums.
He scowls aloud. It's obvious he's piss. He slams his hand against the glass window and can't keep himself from shouting.
"Absolutely great. Our enemy is plotting strategically, methodically and in some way, gracefully towards us in this great overture of war and here we are like sitting ducks for the kill. Our scientists are useless, our technology is that of yesteryear and time all the while is clicking like a screaming bitch in my air, reminding me how close we are to the loss of this war. I can not have that Scarlett. I've worked too hard, spent too many hundred thousand hours plotting, working and chasing the fathom dream of destroying Red Hearts. Now would not be the best time for me to suddenly have an epiphany as to why I feel so terribly insignificant in this war – no, now would not be the best of times" he shouts out, "we need all the help we can get yet nothing comes to the table but plastic stories and wimpy contributions. Stir me with a thread of hope is what I seek" he scowls aloud.
Scarlett says nothing.
He flips around sharply, "order General Sephiroth, under this supreme council and my honourary leadership to interrogate all of the soldiers." He speaks, "Noww!" he shouts.
She jumps and quickly scuttles out the door.
Damn, how he hated these reports on a bloody Wednesday morning.
To be continued…