Post by Reviere on Sept 1, 2010 15:55:07 GMT -8
((My take on Zack Fair. It's a little longer than the two needed paragraphs, but, I kind of got carried away... Ooops. xD))
The dry sandy soil crunched under his black boot. Zack tilted his head up and surveyed the scene before him. Rank upon rank of Infantrymen, many likely to have been his own students, stood before him. Swords were held at the ready to accompany the gun barrels aimed at his heart. This was not how it was supposed to end. He was supposed to be back in Midgar with Aerith, maybe helping her with her flowers and building a fleet of flower wagons for her. His fist clenched at his side before relaxing before his hands found his hips. “Boy, oh boy…” He paused for a moment to shake his head in sheer wonder before his expression settled into calm acceptance. “The price of freedom is steep.”
The dark head of hair turned back to look at the frowning teenager, smiling wryly. “If you want to be a hero, you need to have dreams…” A deep chuckle. “And honor.”
Huffing, the teenager let the hand with the broken sword drop with its companion moved to rub the back of his neck, still sweaty from the mission he had just aborted. “Uh… Huh….” He frowned before lifting the broken Broadsword up to inspect the damage done. An all-too familiar pang of regret flared up in his chest. Even though it had been a standard sword, one of many, it was still an instrument. Something to be used and worshipped. Now it lay in two pieces, the tip forgotten in his anger at being unable to fight even a simple simulation.
Even if it was a simulation of the great Sephiroth himself.
Reaching back behind his shoulder, Zack grasped the hilt of the powerful Buster Sword and let it detach from the magnet on his back, bringing it up to his head. So many memories this steel had seen… The ravenet allowed a small smile to grace his lips. Maybe it was the seriousness of the situation, but he had to fight not to giggle uncontrollably at the hopelessness he faced. He knew he was going to die; there was no getting around it.
“Hey, Zack?” The blonde on the hotel bed leaned forward, his arms on his knees. A soft, questioning look graced his features as he cocked his head to the side. “You know, I’ve never really seen you use that…”
The SOLDIER First Class froze, lowering the sword from his head with wide eyes. Another memory flashed through his mind of a similar time that question had been asked. ( “Use brings about wear, tear, and rust. And that’s a real waste.”) A smile flittered over his face as he turned to look at the blonde. “Oh, yeah… I almost forgot.”
Eyes the color of the sky looked over the blade again before setting it back down against the table. He stared at it for a moment before clenching his fists, smiling in determination. Even if all he had aspired and dreamed for fell to his feet like angel’s feathers, he’d take Angeal’s words to the grave with him. “Right!” Spinning on his heel, he walked back to his arms and swung his arms.
“I’m going to bed,” he informed the blonde beside him. “Night!” And with that, he flopped down onto the bed with his back facing the Infantryman. One leather-gloved hand raised, as if the blonde had to say something but lowered again. His mother would still be there tomorrow. Maybe he’d ask Zack if he wanted to come along for some small talk and a home cooked meal.
The fires that night nearly burned through his soul, leaving it as torn and broken as that small-town village.
“Embrace your dreams…” Zack whispered to himself with his eyes closed. Those words always comforted him, even now at his darkest hour. But, it wasn’t really his darkest hour, was it? By doing this, he could at least be sure enough that ShinRa would forget all about the blonde hiding against the rocks. Cloud Strife would only be a blip on the radar to ShinRa, and that was how Zack wanted it to be. Maybe he could make it to Midgar and find Aerith. She’d take good care of him, maybe she could even cure his Addiction.
“I have twenty-three tiny wishes.”
“Write them down.” A tap to the head with a forefinger. “So I don’t forget.”
A soft, shaky breath left the Gongagan’s too-thin lips. “And, whatever happens…” His hands tightened on the hilt of the Buster Sword, moving the sword away from his forehead. “Protect your honor…as SOLDIER!” The sword was immediately swung out as Zack Fair charged, glowing eyes set intently on his target. He had everything to lose, but, oh so much to gain. The cost would be paid. He just didn’t know how much he had to give. “Come and get it!”
“To become the dew that quenches the land.
To spare the sand, the seas, the sky.
I offer thee this silent sacrifice.”
The dry sandy soil crunched under his black boot. Zack tilted his head up and surveyed the scene before him. Rank upon rank of Infantrymen, many likely to have been his own students, stood before him. Swords were held at the ready to accompany the gun barrels aimed at his heart. This was not how it was supposed to end. He was supposed to be back in Midgar with Aerith, maybe helping her with her flowers and building a fleet of flower wagons for her. His fist clenched at his side before relaxing before his hands found his hips. “Boy, oh boy…” He paused for a moment to shake his head in sheer wonder before his expression settled into calm acceptance. “The price of freedom is steep.”
The dark head of hair turned back to look at the frowning teenager, smiling wryly. “If you want to be a hero, you need to have dreams…” A deep chuckle. “And honor.”
Huffing, the teenager let the hand with the broken sword drop with its companion moved to rub the back of his neck, still sweaty from the mission he had just aborted. “Uh… Huh….” He frowned before lifting the broken Broadsword up to inspect the damage done. An all-too familiar pang of regret flared up in his chest. Even though it had been a standard sword, one of many, it was still an instrument. Something to be used and worshipped. Now it lay in two pieces, the tip forgotten in his anger at being unable to fight even a simple simulation.
Even if it was a simulation of the great Sephiroth himself.
Reaching back behind his shoulder, Zack grasped the hilt of the powerful Buster Sword and let it detach from the magnet on his back, bringing it up to his head. So many memories this steel had seen… The ravenet allowed a small smile to grace his lips. Maybe it was the seriousness of the situation, but he had to fight not to giggle uncontrollably at the hopelessness he faced. He knew he was going to die; there was no getting around it.
“Hey, Zack?” The blonde on the hotel bed leaned forward, his arms on his knees. A soft, questioning look graced his features as he cocked his head to the side. “You know, I’ve never really seen you use that…”
The SOLDIER First Class froze, lowering the sword from his head with wide eyes. Another memory flashed through his mind of a similar time that question had been asked. ( “Use brings about wear, tear, and rust. And that’s a real waste.”) A smile flittered over his face as he turned to look at the blonde. “Oh, yeah… I almost forgot.”
Eyes the color of the sky looked over the blade again before setting it back down against the table. He stared at it for a moment before clenching his fists, smiling in determination. Even if all he had aspired and dreamed for fell to his feet like angel’s feathers, he’d take Angeal’s words to the grave with him. “Right!” Spinning on his heel, he walked back to his arms and swung his arms.
“I’m going to bed,” he informed the blonde beside him. “Night!” And with that, he flopped down onto the bed with his back facing the Infantryman. One leather-gloved hand raised, as if the blonde had to say something but lowered again. His mother would still be there tomorrow. Maybe he’d ask Zack if he wanted to come along for some small talk and a home cooked meal.
The fires that night nearly burned through his soul, leaving it as torn and broken as that small-town village.
“Embrace your dreams…” Zack whispered to himself with his eyes closed. Those words always comforted him, even now at his darkest hour. But, it wasn’t really his darkest hour, was it? By doing this, he could at least be sure enough that ShinRa would forget all about the blonde hiding against the rocks. Cloud Strife would only be a blip on the radar to ShinRa, and that was how Zack wanted it to be. Maybe he could make it to Midgar and find Aerith. She’d take good care of him, maybe she could even cure his Addiction.
“I have twenty-three tiny wishes.”
“Write them down.” A tap to the head with a forefinger. “So I don’t forget.”
A soft, shaky breath left the Gongagan’s too-thin lips. “And, whatever happens…” His hands tightened on the hilt of the Buster Sword, moving the sword away from his forehead. “Protect your honor…as SOLDIER!” The sword was immediately swung out as Zack Fair charged, glowing eyes set intently on his target. He had everything to lose, but, oh so much to gain. The cost would be paid. He just didn’t know how much he had to give. “Come and get it!”
“To become the dew that quenches the land.
To spare the sand, the seas, the sky.
I offer thee this silent sacrifice.”
