Bishonen & Bishojo: DotM
Question? What happens when you tell someone who embodies the killing perfection, the word 'No' followed by a command?
The same thing anyone with a teenage mind would do. The exact opposite.
It was such an inconspicuous thing he reached for, half red, half white, and it wasn't until a finger depressed something with a click on the far side of the ball that he had an inkling of surprise. The world whirled. The whispers screamed and grew silent. Shrieking pain suffused his limbs and invaded every cell of his body.
Eternity in a moment.
A moment in eternity.
And when the trial was over, something else crept over his aching bones. Soothed him to the marrow of his being. Warmth. Not superficial like the humming facilities he once inhabited or even the warmth of light washing over his moonlight complexion. In the many dry texts he was forced to read and memorize, the concept that came closest was a combination of platonic caring, of affection.
He felt, for the first time in his life that someone cared for him.
It would be a while for this soaked in. But the good thing was, in his current location, he had a lot of time.
-~-~-~-~-~-~
A tumbleweed driven by wind swept by and then promptly fell over the cliff. There wasn't very much noise in those next few critical seconds that the orb shook just the slightest before PINGing and falling still.
Daemon was riding the high of a successful mission that was accomplished despite all interference, and his ego was want to attribute this to the 'I'm just that damn good' factor. A low voice that vibrated in enticing ways through the chest that was still plastered against his own begged to differ.
"You just caught Sephiroth."
Good feeling gone.
Aela very gently disengaged her grip from his still out-flung arm and settled back from her tiptoes. She very calmly took a few steps away. She very deliberately folded her arms, not around her elbows in a challenging manner, but rather around her waist, subconsciously indicating insecurity that screamed at all his Blood male instincts.
Daemon could see the trainer take a deep breath, but heard no inflection beyond the sound of air passing through trembling lips. He watched a hand flit from her side to the ever-present belt and pluck his charge's cage from the line. Under his disbelieving gaze, the ball was pried open and the second hand came forward to grip half.
"What are you doing?" he demanded, his normally seductive rasp reaching vocal heights normally traditional to the female half of the species.
A midnight gaze that reflected nothing but the light looked up. "Fulfilling my half of the bargain. That-" she indicated with a chin toward the lone ball sitting at the edge of the cliff, "is a replacement bishie. As he is now my anchor to stay within the world, it is on my honor to release Janaelle."
Daemon didn't know how he did it, but the tensile strength of his hand halted the sudden wresting her own were trying to accomplish to sunder the bishieball in half, thus breaking the bond Aela held on Janaelle.
"You would just let this go? Let bygones be bygones? Try to survive an INSANE MASS MURDERER as your beginner's bishie?" At this point, Daemon had plucked Janaelle's ball from her hands and safely closed it in its proper position. The second that was in order, his hands were shaking the obviously suicidal trainer trying to knock a gear into place in what should have been a rational mind.
Aela quickly smacked his hands away from her, and the only reason he let go despite the difference in strengths was because he was just so flustered. It was built into their very genetic code to be protective. It was embedded in his own code of honor to fulfill every bargain he struck. It just went against the grain to let this newbie try to make due with a bishie that very well could slaughter her as soon as she let him out of the ball. Whatever the Professors said in orientation classes, just because the trainer's genetic structure imposes a bond on the captured bishie does not mean that automatically makes them more docile or less homicidal!
"No! No, no, and no," he barked.
The almost opaque look in her eyes cleared momentarily like clouds parting before a brisk wind. "What's that supposed to mean? You did your part. I have an alternate bishie. I know its a Bishonen, and I have some knowledge of what having Sephiroth means, but you're so all-fired to get Janaelle back home that I thought you would jump at the chance to acquit yourselves of my presence."
"Well, whatever you're thinking, you're wrong. To quote you, 'No means no." Not only is it entirely wrong to leave you like this, it is also a matter of Territory security. You may know what a Sephiroth is like from the game on the Outside, but here it is a Very Big Matter!"
Aela could almost hear the capital letters in that phrase.
"A Sephiroth is very rare in and of themselves, and the only times they've ventured out of the Final Fantasy territories, they've always caused massive collateral damage and deaths before they can be put down. Personally, I don't know of a trainer ever keeping one."
For some reason, the line of derogatory thinking brought Aela's impractical stubborn side to the fore. "How well do you know this for sure? Sephiroth wasn't always insane. In the game he was also some military figure of high rank before he went cuckoo." Her statement caused a warm flush to travel through her, while id was arguing that Daemon was right and why the hell was she arguing to keep a Bishonen nonetheless. Observation indicated that they just didn't have enough information yet and slipped a subliminal command that was barely noticed and yet acted upon during their tirades.
Aela and Daemon were almost to the point of yelling at each other when the trainer about-faced and marched down the hill in the direction of the cliffs.
Daemon had a moment of yelling at empty air before recognizing that she just left him in mid-rant. His mouth snapped shut with a click and he stiff-legged it to catch up. By the time he was halfway down, the fool girl had snatched up the filled ball and did the traditional 'click the button and throw like hell'.
The urge to shake her rose again, but was quickly squelched. Priorities, of course, because now the Warlord Prince had only seconds to prepare as the blue-white light solidified into one of the most ruthless figures in the known territories. The Blood male took his rightful place before his chosen female; directly in the path of the adversary.
When the light subsided, he noted such details as the lack of the single wing, the long ass sword staying in the sheath over Sephiroth's back and unfathomably, the hesitant look of affection in those glowing cat-slitted pupils.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~
As said before, his current location was dark, and yet warm. He had eons to himself, but it never felt more than moments. In those eons, he came to a realization. This is what a 'mother' feels like. Right?
Something in him had changed, the scraping entity that whispered poisoned words was gone and was replaced with this hesitant softness. It was inundated with a numbed fear, but it wasn't all consuming or even painful. The logic of the fear being directed at himself actually soothed him as he could perfectly understand where it came from. After all, he was a perfect specimen, yes? That was what he was bred for, after all. All the scientists spent great lengths telling him so.
From what he read and was encouraged to think of how a son should act, the first thing he should do was comfort and assure his mother of his loyalty and returned affection. The fear would logically disperse and then she would be more readily willing to direct his actions. After all, it made perfect sense that the maternal authority figure should raise her son in the manner she felt most befitting, right?
~-~-~-~-~
The world swirled again, but this time in light. When it resolved, he again found himself by the cliffs, and an ethereal bond was directing him toward a figure. At first, he was confused as the figure before him standing menacingly was male. Pissed off male, if he had to be specific. There was no way this could be his mother. All the wrong bits after all. He never made that mistake again since he was little and followed one of the rare female scientists into the bathroom.
His confusion abated, however when the right figure peered around the male. For the first time, his eyes alighted on the personification of 'Mother'. He took a step forward, only to halt at the growl the male emitted. It was a specimen bordering his level of perfection, gold to his silver. But he could sense the male was still a few steps inferior.
"Step away from her," his own voice was almost startling in its smoothness. He could scarce believe it still had this quality after a year of having no one to speak to.
The growling increased and the other lowered into an offensive stance. The shift in position caused a jeweled pendant to drop from the collar of the shirt and sparkle menacingly, if a black bauble could do such a thing. A ring in a similar setting picked up a stray beam of light and lit the ruby color with an inner iridescence.
"Lets not," the male returned, internally finishing the childish rejoinder.
He could feel his pupils dilate and then sharply constrict in concentration as his lightning fast processes assessed this obstacle between him and his mother. Why couldn't the male let him be a good son and greet his mother?
There was a confusing array of emotions filtering down their bond. Suspicion, terror, and worry, surprisingly for both sides of the conflict which made parts of him long ignored soften into mush in appreciation. His mother worried about him!
He didn't really want to hurt the male, then, if his mother also considered him someone of worth, but with a shake of his silver tresses, he cleared the way for Masamune to exit its sheath, a hand on the hilt in preparedness. Even if he had to defeat the male, he would tender his greetings.
Silence, again. It was the calm before the proverbail storm, when two titanic forces clashed and the world sundered. It was a tolling of the bells to signal the unleashing of the hounds of war. It was another innocent tumbleweed flinging itself out over the abyss that remained a few steps away.
It was a sepulcher voice raining down the command.
"Daemon, I'll tell Witch if you don't stop your silliness right now!"
Blink.
Blink.
He didn't know why, but he blinked too, taking Mother's cue.
The delicious tension that had heralded a superior spar dissipated like a drop of water in one of the desert territories. He almost felt like whining 'but HE started it!'
A small figure made its way down the hillside and stopped several feet away from the boogie-man everyone was afraid of. Sapphire eyes looked up into lambent mako-green. One assessed the other. Both turned to look into obsidian and back again before reaching nonverbal agreement.
Janaelle let a slow grin spread across her feature before whirling and dashing into Aela's arms. Her announcement caused a dual sweat-drop on the trainer and the chibi's guardian.
"I always wanted a brother!"
~-~-~-~-~
Birds took flight in terror, the people of Guilder and Florin swore for years later that the cliffs of Insanity jumped from their bedrock, the shout echoed out into the ether.
"WHAT?!"
~-~-~-~-~
A few hours later around a witchlight bonfire, it dawned on Daemon that the little trio of himself, his charge and his trainer would never be the same. He felt like a cat that had its fur rubbed the wrong way. And then plucked out with duct tape.
Currently, the bane of the Final Fantasy territories was attempting to curl up in Aela's lap and almost purring with the attention she outright lavished on him.
The only soothing balm to his ego was her occasional expression that told him she was treating Sephiroth like a large white tiger, better to give him what he wants and maybe it won't eat her.
Janaelle was entirely too close as well, tucked as she was into Aela's other side and playing with the strands of moonlight that passed for hair. Aesthetically speaking, and removing all bias he had, the scene made a rather pretty picture; the onyx and raven surrounded by cream and silver as well as old gold and sapphires. In the very deepest parts of his psyche, Daemon also wondered where his frosted gold would fit in?
Aela was a maelstrom of emotions and thoughts that were slowly settling. After Janaelle's startling pronouncement, she had asked herself aloud, "Now I'm a mom twice over?" To which guarded green just looked at her asking 'is that ok? Can you be my mother?' In answer, previously dormant instincts roared to life and she mustered a tremulous smile. Arms opened in invitation.
There was blur of wind and then a very large six foot form covered in leather and steel pauldrons was two feet away. Sephiroth himself inched closer into those welcoming arms. When he realized his mother's head would barely reach his collarbone, he dropped to a knee, which put him in the perfect stance to position his head so that it tucked under her chin.
At the same time, it was a little awkward trying to hug huge iron pauldrons, but also very sweet. If what Aela remembered about the character Sephiroth was true, he had never really experienced anything of human relationships that made life worth it.
Plus, after hours of him making sure she didn't think of him as a threat, she realized her Sephiroth was a momma's boy. In a good way.
While she was definitely glad she didn't have to deal with a uber-powered homicidal bishonen, she did have a few questions that remained unanswered. If her Sephiroth turned out to be such a big kitten, why did his type have this big bad reputation in his territory? If the reputation IS accurately earned, then what happened to cause her 'son' to be to immediately loyal to her? What was she going to do when she wanted to walk into towns with a Sephiroth trailing her heels like an over-protective puppy? Well, the analogy only worked if the puppy had a five and a half foot sword, but still....
On a separate matter, now that she was satisfied with her bishonen, what was she going to do about Daemon and Janaelle? They did not mention Janaelle's upcoming freedom yet, and her hands still ached after Daemon's grip prevented breaking the bishieball.
Janaelle was practically attached to her hip and was in the middle of braiding a lock of Sephiroth's hair. Aela only hoped the chibi wouldn't get it into her head to braid in some flowers. She wasn't sure what the Soldier General's reaction would be to that.
Daemon was across the fire from the trainer and she could swear he was glowering at her every so often. It didn't quite register that it was the Bishonen nearly in her lap that had him shooting dirty looks.
On Sephiroth's part, he was in seventh heaven. Not the bar, but rather in a high state of familial pleasure. Mother was allowing him to be close and soak in her warmth, only after he removed his shoulder armor. Through his fledgling bonds, he could sense her contentment with his presence. What was more, he felt her affection for the chibi. He calculated that since his mother liked the little female, and the care she was providing was not going to interfere with her liking him, that it was ok for him to look upon the girl as a sister.
Sephiroth's gaze shot over to the brooding presence across from the snug trio. The male he learned was named Daemon and supposedly was going to leave Mother in his care. Sephiroth did not mind that, not one bit. That would give him time to acclimate himself to Mother's wants better without interference.
"Is it time for Janaelle to go?" Mother queried from above him.
He tensed. His bond was informing him that she felt sadness and longing at the thought of the chibi leaving. Before the male Daemon could respond, Sephiroth asked his own question.
"Do you not want her to leave, Mother?"
She gave him a warm wry smile. "Not really, no, Seph. It's just that her presence as my bishie kept me anchored here in this world until I was able to acquire another anchor. Now that I have you, Daemon will want to have me complete my part of the agreement to have her released."
He mulled that over and also noted Daemon's reaction to this statement. The gold male looked like he wanted to protest for a second before reconsidering. In Sephiroth's mind, that meant he too wasn't that adverse to staying with his charge in his Mother's care. His eyes met those of liquid sapphire.
"Do you want to stay as well, little one?"
Janaelle's chin wobbled the slightest before dipping into a nod.
"Mother, if you request it, I will not allow him to remove your adopted daughter from your care."
Eyebrows quirked all around at this offer. They all knew Sephiroth had the power to enforce it too, but it bore contemplation that he would even offer.
Daemon puffed up with the jab to his pride, that his charge could possibly be kept from him if he wished it otherwise. His breed was the most powerful of the Blood, aside from Witch.
With this new standstill, Janaelle had the proverbial lightbulb. From her accessible position seated next to Aela, she snatched an unoccupied bishieball from the belt and used a bit of her own power to propel it toward the unsuspecting male. From her own experiences with her guardian, she knew he wouldn't protest, much, his capture if it meant staying with Janaelle. And, she knew the trainer had grown on him. That his instincts had chosen the dark girl as the strong female in his life when he put himself between her and almost certain harm.
Sephiroth understood his 'sister's' actions as the ball flashed over the fire, to glint with reflections and wallop Daemon upside the head, opening and swallowing him in a flash of blue lightning.
The tableaux was again cricket chirping as their trainer digested the abrupt action. The ball did not even rock before PINGing, claiming once and for all a willing Warlord Prince, even if he was caught by surprise.
Aela stared with an unreadable face at the innocent sphere before gently dislodging her 'son' and leaving her spot by the fire to approach. She picked up the bishieball. She walked several steps away from the fire and turned so she faced the flames.
While keeping her hands on the ball instead of throwing it, she clicked it open and out spat Daemon in a bolt of blue. Once he began to resolve in material form, she spun so her back was to the fire, leaving her front in deep shadow.
Janaelle and Sephiroth were confused, presented with her back as it were, and Daemon had a moment of confusion on his face as he realized he wasn't in the warm darkness anymore. It was only a second later, but everyone's spine straightened alarmingly when they heard the CRACK!