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25 November 2009 @ 05:15 pm
BRINGING SEPHIROTH DOWN (Part Three - The Rescue)  
Who: Elena, Tseng (Sephiroth?)
When: Day 66 (or Day 67?) After the arrival in Nibelheim and during the Cloud vs. Sephiroth battle.
Location: Basement Level, Shinra Manor, Nibelheim
Rating: PG-13
Summary: After way too much time in Sephiroth's company, Elena is finally rescued by Tseng while Cloud and Sephiroth do battle....again.

Sleep was thick and heavy for Elena. Granted, it was a sleep that was half-caused by being forced unconscious by an overwhelming level of pain. It was the first time since being captured discovered by Sephiroth and Yazoo that she slept with little trouble. In fact, she could have passed for comatose, if not dead, if it weren't for the rising and falling of her chest. Normally, Elena was a tosser. She's roll around in bed, punching and kicking covers, beating up her pillow with her head as she shifted constantly. But, thanks to Yazoo, any movement of her leg brought a sharp pain up her thigh to her stomach and her body, even unconcious, was aware of it. So, instead, she remained prone on her back, her right wrist resting atop the bridge of her nose with palm skyward, the other dangling off the side of the bed. Really, with all the blood and grime on her white - could it be called white now? - only helped with that dead, could turn into a zombie, look she seemed to be going for.

A little groan bubbled up her throat, her shoulders stretching against the mattress as she shifted. The bed Sephiroth had left her on was far from comfortable, but it was better than the floor. And she wouldn't complain. Her head turned into the crook of her arm, causing the wrist that had been using her face as a resting place to fall and her arm to lay across her chest. The shift and impact brought Elena out of the sleep for a moment, hazel eyes opening just slightly. Outside the door she could see Sephiroth, standing with Masamune and staring in her direction. Too exhausted to bother to look away, she returned his gaze through half-lidded eyes. Another blink later and he was gone, leaving her doorway empty. Elena tried to blink herself awake, but the weight on her eyes was too heavy and she found herself unable to stay conscious for much longer. Besides, if he was going to come back and kill her, he would hopefully have the courtesy to do it while she was asleep.
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winchester300: for seriouswinchester300 on November 26th, 2009 03:04 am (UTC)
Cloud Strife had no talent for subtlety, so it was lucky for them all that Cloud Strife did not require subtlety in this mission. Tseng, pressed to what remained of the side wall of Shinra Mansion, heard the still-operating doorbell from his location and resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. That man still had a sense of humour. A second later, the sharp crack of wood completed the irony of Cloud's previous action (Tseng actually found himself smiling at this point, probably more due to exasperation than anything else), and the blond stepped into the monster's mouth.

A few moments of silence followed. The bait laid, the plan poised delicately between success and failure. Tseng watched Cloud pause in the foyer, wondering- (what shapes a man into a hero, if such a thing exists? SOLDIER ideology had never been to his taste - it created too few heroes and too many lost minds) -before the quiet, yet unmistakable sound of heavy footfalls announced the arrival of the Silver General.

Sephiroth was in atrocious condition, Tseng observed with some degree of satisfaction, but did not stay long to look. The white-haired head was turned; Tseng slipped into the building and headed for the hidden door.

This house was from another age; the corkscrew staircase might well lead through time itself. Veld had told him a little about Nibelheim, when Tseng was young - when Sephiroth was young - in relation to understanding the company's roots, Shinra's foundations. Tseng had not liked what he learnt, but that in itself was a part of the lesson. He gave a quick glance to the door on his left as he passed it, heading down the tunnel to the library, and remembered something else about the ghosts of Shinras past.

They should have knocked this building down years ago.

And they will, after this is done, Tseng decided as he ran a methodical search of the basement. If he found Elena dead, well, then he'd make sure they burned up the debris as well, smoked all the souls trapped here to the heavens. But she should be alive, must be alive- How many hours had passed since her phone call, and would she understand that it had been impossible to answer her cry for help immediately-?


He had not meant to say it, but he had not meant for this to happen either. Tseng knelt down and pressed a hand over her heart. The fabric of her shirt under his palm was stiff or wet in places with old and recent bloodshed, but a beat was present, along with breaths no matter how shallow. Alive. Tseng did a quick assessment of the damage before putting the other hand to the handle of the gun strapped to his hip, muttering Curaga under his breath, and watching green reflect off the pallor of Elena's skin. Her injuries were too severe to be treated with any effectiveness here, but the magic should at least dull the pain until she could receive proper medical attention.

"Elena," he said again, moving the hand at her chest to her hand, giving it a brief squeeze. Cold. But she had no time to recover; they needed to leave immediately, and she needed to be conscious.

Elena the Turk: contented / <3puisne_turk on November 29th, 2009 05:28 am (UTC)
It was dark, wherever she was. It felt familiar, the sensation of knowing tugging at the back of her mind. She'd been here before, though she couldn't quite put her finger on where 'here' was. In the darkness of the room she moved forward, a curse coming beneath her breath as her shin bumped something, earning a quick pain in retaliation. Her mouth frowned, but whatever she had bumped had caused the room to lighten some, like moonlight coming through sheer curtains. The room became more visible, and Elena found herself in the main room that served as a living room for their building out in Gongaga. The offending object that she had struck was the small coffee table, with a half-drunk beer resting against the wood. No coaster. Reno's beer, probably.

The sounding of a doorbell rang, muffled despite being so close to the door, made her ear twitch. Did the homes in Gongaga have doorbells? She couldn't remember, but she moved to the doorway anyway. Perhaps it was Rude, coming back from rounds. It was his turn, wasn't it? Against the moonlight, her hand was an awful shade of pale – paler than usual – as she took the door handle and twisted. The light outside wasn’t much better, but it created an almost eerie glow around the figure standing in the doorway. It was mostly a black mass, unidentifiable still despite the full moon in the sky above. She shifted her weight from one side to another, arms creating a barrier to bar entrance to the figure as she held onto the door itself and the door frame. Neither said anything for a moment until the figure slowly lifted the head she didn't know was lowered. Elena felt the gasp escape before she could stop it, green eyes blinking up at her through now visible silver hair.



A dangerous, malicious smile spread across its lips and a heavy weight pushed against her chest as the sense of impending doom crashed. Elena backed up several steps, moving to run back into the building. The blonde froze, turning back to the figure who held her still with the simple grip on her hand. The malice, for a moment, was gone as the figure moved forward, the second hand reaching out to touch her face.


Hazel eyes snapped open, her breath rushing in with a great gasp as she jerked herself from the dream into wakefulness. Her breaths continued to be labored for several more moments as she blinked away the fog that blurred her vision. As the blur of black and white that hovered over her became more defined, realization of the change in situation came over her. So it had been his hand she'd felt – was still feeling - holding her own. Obscure shapes sharpened and grew more detailed as the seconds passed, and Elena smiled. So, he had come for her personally. Her free hand moved to rest atop his, giving his hand a squeeze. Sure, she would probably get an earful later on, but damn it was good to see his face.


There was no masking the exhaustion in her voice like there was no making the green and yellow bruise that blotted her cheek or the blood that stained both skin and shirt. And yet strength seemed to surface up through her very bones – which ached considerably less than she remembered – she was able to bring herself into more of a sitting position and wrap her arms around his neck in a loose hug.

"Thank you," she whispered against his coat.