There had only been the one, final trap, and Vincent, garbed as he was, was frustratingly well protected versus vipers. Especially with an Esuna rolling around. It hadn't been meant for him, but the unprotected behemoth, likely to have died in the cave with the teen who'd spent time digging them out, wrapping them up and taking them with him. Now, out of energy and out of strength, Sephiroth has no further tricks planned. Those required effort.
Even the huff of a faint, wheezing laugh takes effort. Unique. He isn't - he's just one of the prototypes. There would be others, many others. Hundreds. He'd say so if he felt capable of it, but that was sliding away. Even now, even all of THIS, it wouldn't kill him, but a couple more shots this close, this unlikely to miss would see to that anyway. He better focus while he can. Remember. It feels like..
Like a vast, suffocating weight, pain bleeding into numbness, his (not fear, he'd been trained out of fear--) anxiousness melting away to calm by degrees even as the ringing in his ears grows louder; he knows what that is at least. Reflexively, the sound of movement draws his attention, gaze a bit unfocused, the gun noted and dismissed. It shouldn't hurt much, one clean shot. The way the Turk freezes is unexpected, but the lack of focus grows visibly worse as Vincent demands where he got it from.
What a stupid question. He got it from an annoying unethical asshole that passed as his caregiver.
But if he wanted to answer, it fails. As does his ability to cling to wakefulness. There'll be no answers to that question, not aloud.
It feels exactly like passing out, routine and ordinary. He'll be disappointed when he wakes up later.
As upset as Vincent clearly gotten, the locket is still held with a cradled, protective care that would ensure it came to no harm. He is not angry at Sephiroth. Angry at... anyone? No, this is shock, distress over the stunning belonging that the teen cared so much for as to hand it over to his potential killer with such care.
It was impossible for Sephiroth to have known him that this was a trap. But wasn't it also supposed to be impossible that he had known her? Rather than a response to his question, all Vincent receives is a wheezed huff that might have been amusement and... silence.
And he only has himself to blame for this.
In the end it... really shouldn't matter. Ultimately, Sephiroth had always been her son. Vincent had been well aware of that fact, just as he knew the reason he'd decided to do this was about inescapable truths and personal reasons both.
It... was inescapable, right? But he could almost hear her voice, gentle and teasing like it was before.
"...Lucrecia."
Vincent raises his firearm, aims and fires. Gunshots ring out and the cavern fills with flashes of light. Once the echoes fade, the floor has stopped moving. At least enough that Vincent feels safe to pick up the Esuna. It's melded to the gun which is then holstered before he strides to the unconscious SOLDIER. The cloak is removed once again, supplies taken out. He doesn't expect to stabilize Sephiroth; there's too much internal damage. But what he can do is tourniquets, wing bindings and then wrapping the whole of the youth into the scarlet cloak.
He knows he has only a little bit of time before something comes to investigate the sound of the gunshots in the night so he's swift. The wrapped body is lifted as easily as a feather.
If anything lurks in way, they may have to be surprised at the red and black blur that bursts from the opening of the troll cave and nearly straight up, intent on spring-boarding his way to a dubiously safer ledge. Later he will cross the mountain to the other side where Agrona rests on the talons of a chocobo.
He may not know what he's doing right now or exactly why he didn't kill Sephiroth as a final mercy.
Vincent does know why. He isn't permitting himself the opportunity to think about it right now.
But it's not just the selfishness of wanting to find the answer of why Sephiroth had a locket with Lucrecia's picture in it. He... isn't sure he deserves to learn the answer. Vincent is saving the teen because of the creeping, consuming thought that he has made a terrible mistake. Nothing will erase it any more than most of his sins. But he can at least leave the boy his life.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-05-02 10:55 pm (UTC)Even the huff of a faint, wheezing laugh takes effort. Unique. He isn't - he's just one of the prototypes. There would be others, many others. Hundreds. He'd say so if he felt capable of it, but that was sliding away. Even now, even all of THIS, it wouldn't kill him, but a couple more shots this close, this unlikely to miss would see to that anyway. He better focus while he can. Remember. It feels like..
Like a vast, suffocating weight, pain bleeding into numbness, his (not fear, he'd been trained out of fear--) anxiousness melting away to calm by degrees even as the ringing in his ears grows louder; he knows what that is at least. Reflexively, the sound of movement draws his attention, gaze a bit unfocused, the gun noted and dismissed. It shouldn't hurt much, one clean shot. The way the Turk freezes is unexpected, but the lack of focus grows visibly worse as Vincent demands where he got it from.
What a stupid question. He got it from an annoying unethical asshole that passed as his caregiver.
But if he wanted to answer, it fails. As does his ability to cling to wakefulness. There'll be no answers to that question, not aloud.
It feels exactly like passing out, routine and ordinary. He'll be disappointed when he wakes up later.
no subject
Date: 2024-05-03 12:13 am (UTC)It was impossible for Sephiroth to have known him that this was a trap. But wasn't it also supposed to be impossible that he had known her? Rather than a response to his question, all Vincent receives is a wheezed huff that might have been amusement and... silence.
And he only has himself to blame for this.
In the end it... really shouldn't matter. Ultimately, Sephiroth had always been her son. Vincent had been well aware of that fact, just as he knew the reason he'd decided to do this was about inescapable truths and personal reasons both.
It... was inescapable, right? But he could almost hear her voice, gentle and teasing like it was before.
"...Lucrecia."
Vincent raises his firearm, aims and fires. Gunshots ring out and the cavern fills with flashes of light. Once the echoes fade, the floor has stopped moving. At least enough that Vincent feels safe to pick up the Esuna. It's melded to the gun which is then holstered before he strides to the unconscious SOLDIER. The cloak is removed once again, supplies taken out. He doesn't expect to stabilize Sephiroth; there's too much internal damage. But what he can do is tourniquets, wing bindings and then wrapping the whole of the youth into the scarlet cloak.
He knows he has only a little bit of time before something comes to investigate the sound of the gunshots in the night so he's swift. The wrapped body is lifted as easily as a feather.
If anything lurks in way, they may have to be surprised at the red and black blur that bursts from the opening of the troll cave and nearly straight up, intent on spring-boarding his way to a dubiously safer ledge. Later he will cross the mountain to the other side where Agrona rests on the talons of a chocobo.
He may not know what he's doing right now or exactly why he didn't kill Sephiroth as a final mercy.
Vincent does know why. He isn't permitting himself the opportunity to think about it right now.
But it's not just the selfishness of wanting to find the answer of why Sephiroth had a locket with Lucrecia's picture in it. He... isn't sure he deserves to learn the answer. Vincent is saving the teen because of the creeping, consuming thought that he has made a terrible mistake. Nothing will erase it any more than most of his sins. But he can at least leave the boy his life.