onepassingnight | ☄ Dream Impossible Dreams

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☄ Dream Impossible Dreams

He knows, when he's awake, that it's impossible. He'll never have children. For a variety of reasons. He's devoted to his work. He has no time. Physiologically, due to his altered genes and the radiation treatments, he is unable to father children. Even if he could, with medical assistance, would he want to? Wouldn't any children he fathered belong to ShinRa as well?

What would become of such children? Would they grow wings and fly away? The idea isn't as far-fetched as it should be, considering what had happened to his friends. Why would he want children in a world like this?

But he's dreaming now. In dreams, he can have another life. He's dressed in plain clothes, black pants and a white dress shirt, standing in a a room, in a house. An ordinary house. It's not in Midgar, but somewhere else, far away. He can look through the window and see trees. The curtains are wide open, and sunlight pours in through them, and he knows, somehow, that this is "home". His home. With the certainty of a dreamer, who can believe impossible things, he knows that his family lives here. His children. There are pictures of them on the wall. Their possessions can be seen here and there, and some of the books on the shelves are theirs--not his own dry volumes about science and military history. He stands there for a while, not doing anything in particular, quiet and distantly content as he takes in this place, this existence, becomes accustomed to it.

He doesn't stir until hears a sound behind him. There someone here with him. He turns and smiles at them, a casual, fond smile for someone he sees almost every day of his life. "Hello." He asks a simple question. "How was your day?"

[[OOC: Anyone is welcome to be one of Sephiroth's "kids". (Relatives or spouses of any gender to talk about family are also welcome, if you prefer.) Feel free to age characters down, if you like, but grown up kids are also fine. Prose or action spam both welcome; I'll match you.]]

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Dreams are made of longing. Ami, in a high school uniform from a well-known elite academy, opens the door and steps inside, and when she calls out that she's back, she hears her father's voice welcoming her home. Even she isn't immune to that, and there's a pleased smile on her lips as she slips off her shoes.

She has good news for him, of course. She's never let him down and for once, she has the experience of being able to hand her parent her exam results instead of leaving them on the table and receiving a white-board note in return. She digs them out and, true to form, the marks are all perfect scores.

"This is from the mock test for the national exams coming up," she explains as she holds them out. She waits, with a confidence she rarely feels while awake, for his approval.

He's come to expect the best from Ami--and why shouldn't he? She's always done very well in school, needing little prompting to excel.

"Ah, I see. They've come in already?" He nods, understanding, having been aware of the mock test beforehand. He takes a great interest in tests and scores and grades, all those official markers of success and learning. His slight smile doesn't alter as he reaches out for the offered papers. It takes him only a moment to read the results, and then he raises his head, meeting her gaze with his own. "Excellent."

Instead of downplaying the success, Ami tilts her head and gives a somewhat pert smile. "The real results will be the same," she promises with a confidence that has more than a small touch of arrogance. Perhaps it's an honest pride, considering her achievements.

She turns her head to glance towards the kitchen. "Shall I start dinner? I don't need to start my homework tonight for a little while yet." She can't quite say he likes tired, but he does a lot and she is, after all, his daughter. Filial piety is a value she still understands.

"I don't doubt it," he says easily. She's proven her ability to produce the same results, again and again, and he knows she'll do as well, if not better, on the actual test. She takes after him, in that.

He shakes his head, however, when she offers to make dinner. He feels that, considering the situation, he should reward her. Not that he expected any less, but still--it might be nice. "As you did so well, we can go out for dinner, if you'd like."

Oh, yes. Ami is nothing if not reliable: perfect scores, always, so much that her classmates have commented familiarity must be why it doesn't seem to thrill her as much as it would thrill them.

But it does. She likes knowing she's better, comes from better. She likes being the best, the very best. Every time her name is at the top of the rankings is another victory, as surely as ones won by a sword.

"Ohh?" She draws the word out, slightly teasing behind the evident mild surprise. "Isn't my cooking good?" The truth is, it's adequate and not much better than that, good for making sure there's something to eat but, unlike her exams, nothing to boast of. She lets out a little amused sound. "I'll make you eat every bite next time I cook, then."

Next time. She's planning on going out, then.

Sephiroth, too, is used to being the best. Of course his children would be the same.

He raises his eyebrows. "I don't believe I said anything about your cooking. It's quite fine." He isn't one to give excessive praise, but he has no problems with what she makes. Sometimes he cooks. He doesn't mind it. The meals he makes are simple, precise, well-balanced. Textbook rather than gourmet.

He ignores the implication in her words, purposefully. "If you'd prefer not to go, I'd be happy to eat whatever you make." His tone is completely serious, no hint of humor present, but he might be teasing a little himself. Possibly.

She's never sure when it comes to him, and Ami backs down while they can both still be amused. He has a way of getting the better of her.

"Let's go out," she says, as if it's a choice being made right that moment, as if she hadn't been outmaneuvered into asking for it. There's no graceful exit, so she settles for laughing, perhaps at herself, a strangely natural sound and one that comes from her very rarely these days while awake.

"After all," she concedes, "Papa's been working hard, too." She takes a pride not just in her own accomplishments, but in his, and his serious drive that he's imparted into her.

He knows he can be hard to read, even for people who are close to him, but it's always been difficult for him to soften his manner. Having a family has done him some good where that's concerned, and he's able to smile when she laughs, as if it's all a joke between the two of them, and quite possibly, it is.

"You know I like eating at home," he says, and it's true; he isn't particular about what he eats, as long as it's healthy and well-prepared. "This is for you. And because of that, we'll go wherever you like."

She names a nearby restaurant with a good reputation. Only the best for Papa and his daughter, who deserve it. It's expensive, but considered worth the cost, and besides, the kitchen uses fresh, healthier ingredients. He'll like that.

"How about it? It's a good restaurant, isn't it?" Almost as if she's coaxing him, though he's already said he'll agree, Ami glances down the hallway towards her room. "I'll shower and change quickly."

Without giving Sephiroth a chance to argue, even if he would, she pivots on one foot and turns to go. As she promised, it isn't long before she re-emerges in a modest dress suited to the restaurant. The teletia-S may have helped with the quick change.

Edited 2012-06-14 08:37 (UTC)

"I've heard good things about it," he agrees. He might not eat out a great deal by preference, but he does go out often enough for work-related reasons. Company dinners and charity banquets and conferences. He doesn't need any coaxing in this case, especially as it was his idea. "As I said, wherever you like." He is a man of his word, and even if she'd chosen a rundown hamburger place instead, he would have dutifully made his way there with her.

While she's changing--in her suspiciously quick manner which he doesn't remark on--he gets ready to go himself, and puts on a jacket, as black as his pants, never one for colorful clothing.

"You look nice." He wonders sometimes, if it's easier for those who had parents to parent. Sometimes he still feels out of his depth, so unlike the warm, emotional parents he sometimes sees at school events, or any time when he's out in public.

Oh, she's come to prefer black as well, perhaps a trait she gets from him; for awhile, her wardrobe was nearly all black and white, fashionable enough still, but dark. Today, though, she's dressed in a deep blue bordering on navy, of evident quality in its fabric and cut.

"Thank you." She warms to the compliment, a bit too obviously perhaps, or at least conscious of the effect she presents. No more staring in mirrors and fretting over the reflection staring back at her; she's changed. There's no more insecure girl, she'd like to tell herself.

She's a confident, professional, young woman.

"We won't need a reservation," she adds as an afterthought. Considering the restaurant in question, she may have more mischief in mind to make sure they're seated anyway.

Navy is also a fine color, but clothes aren't a great concern to him. As long as his own are well-cut and pleasing to him, and others are well and neatly dressed, he's satisfied.

"You're quite welcome." He inclines his head, formal even in this, a casual family moment.

"I should probably call ahead, just in case." Ami may have something in mind, but first, she has her stubborn father to contend with. It's unlike him to ignore proper procedure, in spite of what Ami may or may not be planning.

Papa, that isn't nearly as fun. For a second, Ami pouts playfully, as if she might argue; but it's so ingrained that even now, of course she doesn't, not with her father.

"Go ahead!" she says, brightly enough, and suddenly there's a book in her hand out of nowhere, as if to say see, we could have done it so much quicker my way and now it will take much longer while some helpless waiter loses the reservation anyway. Cynical of her. She opens to a bookmark.

Edited 2012-06-17 23:51 (UTC)

He's not known for being a "fun guy". Quite the opposite, some might say. Not that he doesn't have a sense of fun, or his own personal idea of it, but it can be hard to discern and doesn't extend to restaurant reservations.

He pulls out his phone to make the reservations. He's clear and commanding on the phone. He doesn't expect his reservations will be lost. Why would they be? His orders should be followed.

"We have some time before we go," he says, once he's done with the phone. "Would you care to spar?" It's a casual question; in Sephiroth's house, there's nothing out of the ordinary about sparring, even if they're wearing their nice clothes.

If it was a question at all, she'd just transform to keep the clothes clean - or use the teletia-S again afterward. Why not make use of every advantage she has, just as he expects his orders to be obeyed? It's natural to them.

Besides, sparring is... well, somehow she finds she likes it best. Maybe it's because she knows he enjoys it, and so it's something they can do together. Something that brings them together. Her answer is quick and unquestioned.

"Right now." It's a statement and confirmation, not a surprised question. She does know him after this many years. "But be careful!" she warns. "I won't go easy on you just because you're my father."

"Outside would be best," said Sephiroth, although it wouldn't be the first time they'd sparred inside. Their precision was such that it was usually no problem, but there was more freedom of movement possible outside, and constraining himself in order to avoid destroying appliances, though it was an added challenge, wasn't one he was in the mood for today.

He doesn't expect there will be any damage to his own clothes; for both of them, that's the advantage of having superior skills.

Sephiroth was never someone who found it easy to bond with others, but this was easy for him. Fighting was something he knew, and she had that in common with him. Why wouldn't she? She was his daughter.

"I would be disappointed if you did," he said, with a smile as he took up his sword and headed out the door.

There was nothing to do but follow after him, and she did. Outside, she'd have more freedom of movement as well, and the freedom to bring her powers into play. Her father didn't seem to precisely enjoy having their home turned into an ice palace - an inevitable outcome.

Ami blinked into the sun as she stepped outside. Her eyes adjusted quickly enough, and she stretched out her hand, closing her grip around the grip of the ice sword, which materialized in a bright flash. She took a ready stance.

Awake, he wouldn't disclaim his biological father, inasmuch as he didn't care for the old man. One couldn't choose one's parent's, merely make due and live with what you were given. He's slowly been dealing with the fact that his father likely did care for him more than he once realized.

However, asleep, the mind turns the desire for a more normal family, where one's father didn't constantly spend his time at work and who actually could express approval and care in a less complicated and more visible manner, preferably one without backhanded compliments.

Perhaps it was that desire which was the cause of him entering the house, and accepting the figure before him as a father figure, despite the fact they looked nothing alike. "It was good, how was yours?"

"It went well enough," he says, smiling at his son, accepting Rufus as his own immediately. He's not the most forthcoming man, even with his children, but it was just an ordinary day, nothing too remarkable about it.

"I'm glad yours did, as well. Anything of particular interest?" His tone is formal, but there's a subtle warmth there that isn't usually present.

All his life, Sora's wanted a stable family. How odd he gets it in his dreams. But is it a dream? Either way, he'll smile as he enters and pulls a hat off.

"It was okay. There weren't many fish biting, though."

Sephiroth himself has never had a family to speak of, certainly not a stable one. Which is why this appeals to him, and why he doesn't question it, now that he has it.

"Not many?" He smiles, not unsympathetic. "They're not particularly reliable creatures. Maybe they'll be more cooperative tomorrow. So am I to assume that we won't be having fish for dinner?"

Sora won't question it, either, of course. He gives a sheepish smile and shakes his head.

"Sorry. I tried, though. They just didn't want to bite, no matter what I used for bait."

He's disappointed. He really likes fish, and he wanted to present one for food.

[This country house-- this isn't Reeve's dream, but it feels like his home. His first home, in the country, where the tallest things were the trees. It feels so natural to be here now, to walk through these rooms, to see books he's read or would like to read, to see teacups left on a table, to see toys-- a building set, like the one he used to play with-- on the floor.

To see Sephiroth. Standing on the living room carpet. Wearing a shirt and pants like an ordinary mortal. Sunlight caught in his pale hair, smiling. Yes, even these things feel natural.

The smile is easy to return.]

Oh, fine. Just-- the usual, you know.
[It's natural to stand at Sephiroth's side, to look out of the window together and then back at each other-- to let his hand brush Sephroth's, their fingers threading together for a long moment.]

And what about you? Have you been working all day? In spite of saying you wouldn't?
[It's obvious Reeve is teasing fondly.]

The usual. I see. [It's odd to take someone's hand like that, so familiar--but it shouldn't be odd, should it? So he relaxes, looking over the children's toys. He should ask them to pick them up, but they're outside playing; it can wait until they come back. He won't clean up their messes for them. They should learn to take responsibility for their toys.]

Ah--not all day.

[He catches the note of teasing in Reeve's voice. It's true, he did work a fair amount, but it's hard for him not to. He knows that he overworks himself to the point of neglecting other aspects of his life.]

So you see, I kept my promise.

[There should be something wrong with enjoying this-- someone else's idyll. Sephiroth's idyll. But this could just as well be a dream of Reeve's own. He doesn't want it to end.
Imagine that. His own children.

He feels a sharp stab of guilt, but that emotion and all its turmoil belongs to waking Reeve. He won't let it intrude here.

He smiles at his-- partner, he supposes.]

Yes, well, I never doubted you.

It looks like we've got some time to ourselves! Should we play with the toys that have been so generously left out for us? Or should we be very lazy and very adult and sit on the couch and talk?

Either would be a good antidote for a day of meetings, as far as I'm concerned.

I'm pleased to hear it.

It's best to leave the toys for them. They can clean them up later. [He'll make certain they do--but although in a sterner mood, he might call them in to do so now, it is nice to have this chance to talk with Reeve, just the two of them, alone.] Why don't we talk, for now? I'm not in the mood for building blocks.

[He steps around said building blocks on his way to the couch.

In spite of his relentlessly serious tone, this is meant as a joke.]

You have no more meetings today. I'll be sure not to call any. How is your work? [He's curious. Reeve is an engineer, and it's a subject that genuinely interests him.]

"Horrible," Korra grumbles, slumping into the couch as she claims a bag of chips from somewhere nearby. "The morning was out to get me, I swear. Hey, if Tenzin calls, tell him I'm taking the day off from Avatar training, I'm tired."

She pauses for a moment, then adds, "But if Mako or Bolin call I'm available. I gotta work on probending."

Sephiroth pauses a moment, but accepts this unfamiliar information and these unfamiliar names without too much trouble, after that brief delay. Somehow, it all makes sense to him in the dream. "Was it really so bad?"

He hesitates, never one to advocate less training, under usual circumstances. "The answer to your problems could be training more, if you're having trouble." If she's able to train with Mako or Bolin (whoever they are), then he doesn't see why she can't work with Tenzin.

"Yeah, it was." And she narrows her eyes at him. "I am. It's just not working. Besides, I need a break too!"

The last sentence is somewhat muffled by the chips she's eating.

"What happened?" he asks. He always wants to know what the problem is, not content to simply know that there is one. He doesn't particularly appreciate this eye narrowing, but he doesn't mention it for now.

"I'm not denying that you need a break," he says, eying her bag of chips. It's not that he's supporting that she needs a break; he hasn't made up his mind about that yet. "But I'd like to know what's wrong."

Something about this is undeniably wrong, to be close to him and comfortable. A strange sense--that everything is all right, and that it means something is "false"--but oh, then what's the point of everything being true? She likes this feeling, and Sephiroth seems satisfied too. It's not making anyone unhappy.

"Hmm...it felt like something was out of place," Aerith says truthfully, tapping her finger against her chin; however, her voice adds a playfulness to the honesty, twisting it. "But then I came home and found my husband."

"Is that so?" He looks down at her, with a faint smile. He does feel a slight sense of oddness--she's familiar to him from other dreams, but not in waking life--but that sense passes quickly.

"I'm pleased things fell back into place, then." He pauses. "It does feel like that." In the dream, he feels oddly content. This not might be what he truly wants or would choose, or any kind of possible future, but there's a sense of quietness and peace. There is no war, no loss, no sense of death close at hand.

"They're playing outside," he says, speaking of the children, of course.

"You feel it, too? I wonder what it could be... Maybe we left a light on somewhere."

It's probably just a trivial thing, whatever it is, not worth worry. At least, that's what she tells herself, what she's determined to make of it, as she smiles up at him.

"...You reminded them about the flower bed, right?"

She loves her children. ...But the flowers are her babies. The kids always come out on top, but sometimes it can be an awfully close call.

"It could be. Or it's something else we temporarily forgot. It will return to us, I'm sure." You're most likely to remember something like that when you're not trying to think of it. "Or the feeling will fade." It could be nothing, only a dream or irrational uneasiness.

"Ah--" Sephiroth wasn't sure if he had mentioned it. "I did tell them last time, but no, I didn't remind them this time." Unlike her, he doesn't hold flowers in quite such high regard.

"They have the common sense to avoid it." After all, when he was a child, he would have know better than to tromp on the flowers. Surely their children have the same sense.

The comment made her laugh. "I don't know, I think you're giving them too much credit. You would have avoided it. I would have headed straight on in!"

The main difference being that now she knew what you did and didn't do with flowers. But even she had had a little bit of trouble with them at first!

"I wouldn't say that. I wasn't always so obedient," he said, "when I was a child." Although he hadn't been particularly interested in flowers, he could imagine himself charging into a flowerbed while fighting an imaginary opponent, or "training" as he'd put it back then. He wouldn't have considered the flowers at all.

She had made him a little more mindful of them, perhaps. "Hopefully they remembered." Although he liked to think that they listened to what he said and followed his rules out of respect, he had to admit, if only to himself, that that wasn't necessarily the case. "If not, they can repair the damage themselves, and they're unlikely to forget again."

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☄ Dream Impossible Dreams

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LOOKS tired /kills wrong-word typo

It's okay, I knew what you meant! :3

<3

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i love these two more with every tag XD

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dream marriage...lol

the dreamiest couple!

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