A Road Once Traveled [Open]

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This world was different than Gaia, and it was not simply due to the way it appeared, but rather the way it felt. The hunger of battle raged on here, but not as ravenous as the wolves in a meaningless war. No here fights here were not waged for land, politics, or decimation of an entire civilization; they were not fought with a desire to escape oppression, to strive for completion, or to bring about ruination in the name of a calamity. This world held fights in the name of glory, honor and dreams; the very things that a friend of his had once striven to protect, to spread, and to live for. The thrill of battle itself was intoxicating, and it was hard not to be swept into its currents of adrenaline by simply watching from the stands. The euphoria that took over the fighters when the crowd roar or booed allowed them to become immortal for a few minutes in the eyes of many, yet when they moved and battled to their heart's limits, they were gods among themselves. What was it to be a god? What did it feel like to possess the power of one? An enigmatic figure in a crimson coat wondered this about a Goddess he had encountered years prior, while he sat among the fervor of screaming people, with a book of all things opened before him. Two warriors; a swordsman and a dragoon, did battle in the arena before so many people, yet he had eyes only for the work of art known as LOVELESS. An interpretation of the epic could be referenced metaphorically to these men and their story, yet the many Acts of the timeless tale did not hold value towards them, nor any significance. It had already been reenacted in history, and it was bound to happen again should the fates allow it.

His bright blue eyes wandered upward from the scribe, to the scuffle of a fight that he hardly paid attention to. This world and its natives, as well as its customs, were familiar in a sense to SOLDIER, though they held as much meaning as the former military organization did to him now. To fight simply without purpose now, was in itself, a waste. A true hero knew when the need arose, when it was dire, and when it was unnecessary. He above all people knew too well what appropriate training was, and just how far it could be taken before becoming a pointless, and consequential skirmish. The lines of friend and foe became blurred in those moments, as ego took over, and drove each participant to better themselves above the other. He had been no different that day he decided to take on Sephiroth by himself, attacked Angeal, and eventually brought harm to himself through actions of sheer ignorance and chance. The former wound in his shoulder pulsated at the thought, while he shot a glance to it, with an abrupt snap of the book shut. He stored it away as he rose to his feet, and moved his way passed the people to the aisle. This event had become to droll for him to endure any longer, and he needed to continue his search for Weiss.

After losing the Tsviet when they were transported from The Planet, Genesis had endured a lengthy journey through an unknown world to arrive at this Coliseum, and decided to linger here for a day to collect his thoughts and provisions. The idea of waking up on another planet after the Lifestream affected them both, had never occurred to Genesis, and quite honestly did not settle well with the former SOLDIER either. If The Planet itself was among the stars at night, then surely Weiss and himself had now become wanted fugitives of the WRO, with a high price on their heads now as well. The only thing Rhapsodos did not need were the annoyances of mercenaries hunting his every movement, or Weiss for that matter. The Immaculate had been unconscious for weeks after his battle with Chaos Vincent, and Genesis had taken to ensuring the man's recuperation until he was strong enough to fend for himself. There was a lot that needed to be discussed between the two, for the former 1st Class had a lot of answers he sought from the Tsviet, and he was determined to get them. He needed to know what had transpired since he began his slumber in the Forgotten Cavern, what had become of the world, and why Midgar had been brought to utter ruination. It had not been his doing, nor the work of his remaining clones, so he was certain Weiss would know better than anyone what had happened. There also remained pressing matters concerning both of their futures, but they would eventually be addressed. The only thing that mattered now was finding out where The Immaculate had wound up.

The crimson coated warrior descended the steps, and followed the ordained path back to the Lobby's entrance, where he turned to glance at the combatants once more. The swordsman clashed his blade with the dragoon, causing both men to stumble backwards from the impact, and the crowd roared loudly. Closing his eyes briefly Genesis turned towards the dark hallway, and stepped into its shade. The dimly lit passageway provided enough light to see the stone laid out before his feet, but it was not enough to allow more visibility than that. His steps echoed through the hall; a soft and appropriate prelude to his approach of the Lobby itself. He could see the lights of the room just ahead, where several trophies glinted with the firelight of the torches upon their mantles. Much of this was beginning to feel very familiar to him, as though he had once walked these halls before. The enigmatic former 1st Class couldn't place a finger on it, but he was beginning to have a feeling of deva vu. 'Is this possible?' thought Genesis to himself, while he stood in the dark, silence by himself. His breath was soft, while he looked into the lit room as that eerie feeling continued to rise inside of him.

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DATA TAGS. Next~! WORDS. 771 NOTES. Relaxing in the light of combat.

to the soldier, the civilian, the martyr, the victim. THIS IS WAR Lightning continued to travel. Her decision was partly based on her duty to others and in part due to boredom. In all her travels and in all her life there no longer stood a point to simply let it go to waste. She was now aware that the worlds were in far more trouble than she originally suspected. Perhaps a few years of downtime had been too much for the warrior. She was never going to feel her age, even if time flowed for her. She had since lost her humanity to the powers bestowed on her. To relinquish such a gift would be squandering the power to protect your family and friends. That was something Light could not feel herself relinquishing. Though she could do without that nickname these days. There were just some things that stuck, she supposed. Light or Sis, she hardly ever heard Elcair from her family, but she supposed that was alright in its own way. Even with this power she had to keep her body at peak, physical condition, so a world such as this provided her with the freedom to exercise without the worry, or Serah's worry, that she would severely injure herself 'hunting for a challenge'. The former Valkyrie had decided to settle into some lighter clothing, so she could cool down from her last match. She had gone to the apodyterium so she could have the much needed privacy. It was, of course, the woman's side so peeping was forbidden. While her armor could be removed via magic, there was the case of her underclothing, which was drenched in sweat. Her regular cloths were not touched by the divine, thankfully. She removed her top shirt, leaving her in her black, thermal tank top. She needn't remove anything else as she typically wore her black thermal shorts beneath her armor. It was more comfortable, and convenient this way. Collecting a towel from her cubby, where sat her pile of her civilian clothes, her IDCard for her world and a few loose credit chips that were floating around her pocket. She headed off toward the fountain to dip her towel and wash off her sweaty neck and arms. It was always terrible in those places as she silently thanked Etro for having the sweat reducing thermals. After using the towel to wipe down her arms and neck, a strange sound carried to her ears. Was that a-- Baaa! --goat?! Lightning began to look around. Were there animals running around loose? She took note of some odd movement in a pile of used towels. "What the hell?!" Lightning's voice carried across the halls, voice bouncing off the stone colonnades. Of course, soon enough, a certain satyr was bouncing off the colonnades. Light slide out of the apodyterium with a scowl painted on her features. Her face was dripping with water and her rose colored hair was frayed every which way. Her bare toes clutched to her sandals as she resisting the urge to hurl them at him. "Don't worry, I didn't see anything with those weird clothes'a yers!" Phil bleated. Lightning swirled her towel and sneered at the satyr. "Get the hell out before I get my sword!" She snapped the wet towel at the goatman, sending him clopping away. She sighed deeply. She was growing tired of that pervert's antics. She scoffed, turning her head to the side in dismissal. She tossed the wet towel over her shoulder while she moved her left hand to rest on her hip. The lack of attire was not totally uncomfortable for the Valkyrie. She grew up on the beach. Even her military uniform was suited for the intolerable mix of heat and chill that progressed through the days. She was more annoyed at his attempt to peep. She was actually quite cozy. Using her hand to slick back her hair she turned her gaze to the side where a man stood where it was easy to view the ongoing battles in the coliseum. "Hey, careful about getting too close." The warrior pointed out toward the arena. The Dragoon and his spear came hurdling toward the arena's edge sending sand and stone flying everywhere. Luckily the magical barrier kept the audience safe, but it was still surprising when it wasn't expected. The woman exhaled and kept her eyes on the fighters a moment longer. She wondered if those beings had reason for doing battle or they were otherwise forced to for the amusement of others. It was no different than the bloody gladiator pit of Yusnaan she supposed. She couldn't go and speak hypocritically of the mirrored situation.

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The former 1st Class remembered a man he knew before with fondness, having taken it upon himself to fulfill a childhood dream of his the best way he could. Zack was never Sephiroth, and never would be, yet he lived up to the name of SOLDIER much like the man himself had. The real thing had cast away his pride, his humanity, with the revelation of a truth that shook his entire core with a crisis he could not contain. Genesis thought back to the day he had told Sephiroth the truth, about himself, about The JENOVA Project, and about the abomination that had spawned what they had come to be. He also remembered how he had felt after longing to share a dumbapple with the hero for so many years, only to have it slapped out of his hand seconds after honoring him with it. "Whether your words are created to deceive me, or the truth I have sought all my life, it makes no difference. You will rot." The words themselves echoed inside his mind. Fair had reminded Genesis of his pride though, and fulfilled what Sephiroth never aimed to account for. Though he shared a bit of the SOLDIER Legend inside himself through Hojo's experiment, it sufficed enough to provide a sentimental meaning to Genesis. After all the strife and conflict they had put each other through, after both being subjugated to the betrayals of Shinra and the world for that matter, he came to realize that Zack had been more of a true friend to him than Sephiroth ever was. While the Puppy sought him out all those years, hoping to bring him back and find a means to help, all Sephiroth had ever achieved was following Shinra's dictation and orders. After all, it was what a perfect monster was best at.

Genesis recalled the moments after Zack had departed with his other friend, who had been comatose during their honoring of the Banora Whites. He was barely awake, though too tired from his regeneration by the Goddess to open his eyes. Two men, who had turned out to be Weiss and Nero, had come to retrieve him with a helicopter. After the events in Deepground and journeying to the sanctum of the Forgotten Cavern below Reactor 0, Genesis slumbered for years, plagued with dreams surrounding his friends and the cruel fates Shinra had dealt all of them. He did not learn of Zack's fate, and presumed him to be in hiding from Shinra once Genesis was taken to Deepground. He knew nothing of Nero, and Weiss was now missing somewhere among the worlds. Nor did he know what became of the other friend, the carrier of the last S cells upon The Planet. No one was hunted, no longer bound to the code of survival as they had been before; All had paid their prices of freedom. 

Genesis was snapped out of his thoughts as someone spoke to him, causing his eyes to focus on the environment he now stood in. For a moment he began to wonder whether he was still standing inside his own memories as an audience, though the feeling soon wore off. His bright blue eyes snapped to where the voice had come from, to see a woman nearly his own age standing before him. The former SOLDIER briefly examined her before looking out towards the fighters once more, seconds before the weapon came into contact with the magical barrier. The impact created a loud clash as though it were steel upon steel, and was sure to startle the most inexperienced warrior. Genesis remained calm and composed in the sudden excitement, for his training had taught him to remain focused at all times, to always expect an attack from anywhere. Perhaps it was training, perhaps it was mere instinct to wait and catch the inbound lance. 

As the weapon fell harmlessly to the sand, the crimson coated warrior watched silently as the Dragoon sprinted to retrieve his weapon, while his opponent chased him down to gain an advantage on him. "How touching," spoke Genesis as he turned away from the fight, and began to take several steps toward the Lobby. As he did so a sickening sound of someone being stabbed filled his ears, yet the former 1st Class did nothing to look back toward the arena. "When the war of the beast brings about the world's end; The goddess descends from the sky. Wings of light and dark spread afar; she guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting" he recited, before he paused to glance back over his shoulder. Blue eyes examined the girl once more, as he began to wonder why she seemed out of place, much like the familiar sense that this world was in his memories. "You are not from here" he stated in a rhetorical manner. Perhaps this woman knew a thing or two about the place, or maybe this was just a simple training ground.

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DATA TAGS. tags here WORDS. 761 NOTES. The fighting is just an escape.

to the soldier, the civilian, the martyr, the victim. THIS IS WAR Lightning was not someone who normally stood out. She was an honest, hardworking girl. She felt that the work one did was equal to the measure of what one received. She was never out to be a hero or a savior. She never lied if she could help it, and when her stubbornness would strike, she would put up a cold front so she did not look as if she wished to back down. Lightning had lost her parent early in life. It forced her to mature faster than most. She went straight into the military after highschool. She did not experience those fanciful things some girls would have liked. She was never asked out by the boy she fancied, heck she hadn't even the time to fancy any sort! She had no dreams of her own; within Light there existed no selfish wish that she was never born. Her only wish was to protect and hide Serah from the dangers of the world. Somewhere along the lines she had become too busy to care for her sister's most basic, human need and went chasing after some hero maniac. Who would have thought that man, whom she hated for loving her sister more than she ever could, was who she looked to for help in the end. She always felt as if she was fighting against him, like sort of rival. He always said stupid things hardheaded boys would spout and made her so angry! Maybe it had not been he, who Light was angry with, but herself. No matter the case she had learned to dace her own shortcomings thanks to her companions. Traveling with them surely saved her from the despair she headed toward on her own. From the life of a civilian she became a soldier destined to be martyred in the name of a mad-god. But in all her experiences, the fundamental aspects that made her Eclair 'Lightning' Farron, had not faded. She was still the ordinary girl who grew up far from the city and dreamed of loving happily ever after with her family. Some dreams were not meant to happen so easily. Sometimes it spanned several hundred lifetimes before you could reach true Nirvana. She could not help the chuckle-burp that nearly erupted from the back of her throat when the man spoke. She had to turn her head away and crush the sound as she raises her hand to muffle it the best she could. She did not mean to be so rude, but it made her uncomfortable, but a bit amused at the same time. The more she looked at this guy, the more she felt self conscious of her own haphazard style. She always felt that she was a bit of a punk with her enjoyment wearing suits and other classy outfits, however practical she could excuse them away to be. His fancy, red surcoat was outlandish and his words really made her think about the main attraction that had been part of Nautilus all those century ago. If she recalled correctly it was a play held by a miniature avatar of Carbuncle and a few other Eidolon. "Sorry," she offer in remorse of her childish act. "No, but I think that was a bit obvious." She did not explain why she laughed, but she felt it was an unnecessary explanation after a sincere apology. Though her words seemed cold, she was merely a person who spoke bluntly about matters. Some people took it as the woman acting rudely. Others paid no mind to it because of her gentle manner of speech, as she spoke with a calm voice, even when annoyed. It was rare to anger Light through one's own faults. She was quick to anger with herself though. It was best to describe her as reserved. Her current state of dress, though, seemed to counteract that. But this was casual to her! "It's like that these days." She noted, looking back to the arena. "People come from all over to fight." There was a long pause as she meditated over her words. "They have all sorts of reasons too… but you know that things have to be going badly when you see more ordinary people lust after this kind of sport." As she said this her blue eyes turned toward the stadium seats, packed to their limit by civilians. But by her state of dress she had been part of all this as well. She must of had a reason outside of wanting to taste the blood of wild war.

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The man in the crimson coat observed the woman as she spoke, her words referring to not just the spectators of the fights, but anyone who participated in them as well. The way she spoke about it all, gave the impression that the worlds were in a more darker state than he first realized. After being relentlessly hunted by the WRO back in Banora, loosing Weiss in the Lifestream, and awakening here to duel a winged girl some weeks ago, Genesis had seen his fair share of discontent. Many held heavy burdens upon their shoulders, for many different reasons that all seemed connected to a "darkness" consuming worlds. Perhaps this had something to do with Sephiroth? Or was the WRO acting on orders of Shinra survivors? Nothing was certain at this point, save for the woman's statement about the most ordinary of man lusting for combat. Indeed where this world was concerned that's what appeared to be true, though there was no doubt something underneath it all that was truly corrupt. Though there seemed nothing unusual about a people's love for a good fight, but how much was too much? To be driven to the point to blindly follow orders, and fight simply because you were ordered to was something he knew long ago. It was a set of chains that he set out to sever from the likes of Shinra and himself, which no doubt had been accomplished after the company's apparent collapse.

"Perhaps it is their purpose. To exist simply to fight, to martyr the soul simply to entertain," began Genesis as he mused on the subject, intrigued by this woman's take on perspective. The fight continued despite the Dragoon being wounded, and the sand would be dotted with his blood. "Such is the fate of monsters," commented the former 1st Class, seeing the combatants as no better than a certain former comrade he once knew. They followed their desire to entertain, much like Sephiroth had followed his orders, never once thinking for themselves. That was why Genesis always felt he was destined to be the hero in the epic, for he was quicker to act of his own accord, to seek vengeance upon those who had lied to him for his entire existence. Genesis became lost once more in his own thoughts, taking pause as the fight continued while the pair watched.

There was a bright light, followed by darkness.

Visions of Minerva, Zack, and his other old friends drifted in and out of his thoughts; he saw himself standing in a black room, with Sephiroth and Angeal standing side by side. Their stares were hardened, yet they remained silent, and made no motion to move. Genesis said nothing, and did not move. His breath tightened, while his teeth clenched behind his lips. The feeling of dread and fear overtook him, as he could not think of what to say to those he had manipulated for his own benefit, those whose eyes he had tried to open. Were these truly still his friends, or had they become nothing but pawns in a never ending struggle to become complete again? Did they feel anger or sorrow for their auburn haired comrade, or was there even an emotion in death? Was Genesis himself dead; was this...the Lifestream? The pair then slowly turned away from him, and walked off into the darkness without a word, without a goodbye. Worry overtook the crimson warrior, and fearing of being left alone in this place, he took a single step after the former SOLDIERs. Beneath his boot the ethereal vines of the Lifestream sprang forth into the darkness, which instantly illuminated everything, and revealed that they were indeed gone. Genesis was taken aback, and let a gasp escape his lips, while his bright blue eyes widened with disbelief.

The vision became dark once more, and with a deep breath the former 1st Class slowly blinked. When his eyes opened again he was back in the present, standing near the woman with eyes as bright as his own. He knew not her name, but began to suspect that she was one of the many she spoke about, based upon her down dressed appearance alone. The irony that perhaps she too had come here for the fights, gave Genesis something to reflect on. Perhaps she was speaking about herself, just as much as she could have been addressing the other warriors? It was certainly a thought, yet whom was he to judge anyone for their purpose here? It was none of his concern. Though he was becoming more curious about how bad things in the worlds were becoming, and maybe there was a chance this girl knew a thing or two. "Is your reason for being here your own? Or is it as thirsting as the men before us?"

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DATA TAGS. Next~! WORDS. 861 NOTES. I took it upon myself to prevent a disaster.

to the soldier, the civilian, the martyr, the victim. THIS IS WAR Lightning -- she was never expressive one way or another about her feelings toward combat. As a soldier it was merely how it was. It was a necessity, but it was also something you wish you were without. When it came to combat between humans or animals in an arena that brought up a whole new dilemma that was difficult to process. If both creatures were consenting to the act, was that not enough? Did fiends and animals understand? She was used to the feral, bloodthirsty killed-or-be-killed lifestyle of the beasts of Pulse, but with things having changed so much on Nova, was it really still the same? She had could not speak against that which she had long participated in. Sometimes fighting was all a person could do to change the fate they were handed. But she was not without understanding that fighting blindly was just as useless. She was like that once. She fought without truly knowing what enemy she faced. She had been a puppet dancing to a corrupted song. Sazh had once pointed out that she was 'just a soldier', as much as the next. He questioned if it was their propagative to fight whenever ordered. and she could not bring herself to deny it. To a soldier and enemy was an enemy and who were they to question it? She was just like any soldier, until it affected her. Until her sister became a victim she had seen nothing but truth behind their words and beliefs that anything outside their sphere was a trip straight to hell. She believed that all on Pulse were monsters out to destroy them, when in truth the monsters had been manipulating them all the while. "Fighting without hope is just another way to die..." She murmured as she brought the towel to dab at her cheek. Her mouth remained parted as the thought hung in her mind. Shifting her weight she would turn to look to the man in red, her rose colored tresses frayed and stuck all about her face thanks to being wiped to the side. Her cheek pinched up a bit in a dry smirk. The question that carried behind her words was almost amusing. How so few took to heart the existence of life outside their own worlds or time. It was strange watching worlds raise and fall from outside: you held a stronger appreciation for life that way. But even small questions like that provided some proof that a person was capable of existing outside their own selfishness. Plus his manner of speech was funny. He held himself a lot like Snow, flashy words of bravado and all. Even if it was a bit Carbuncleesque. She gave a smooth, dismissive shrug. Her bare shoulders and any exposed flesh glistened against the sun exposing the Coliseum, giving it that sun-dried color. A soft exhale of air, barely audible enough to be considered a proper chuckle, escaped the warrior's throat. Her reasons, she supposed, were more complicated than she had originally felt. "I can't ignore a challenge," she proudly beamed; she held her chest out and head high, but her shoulders would then slump. "Was how I excused this, at first." She ruefully admitted. "But I have no reason that is wholly selfish or unselfish. I think I'm reliving a memory and know exactly what to expect." Because as a former Goddess of Time, you begin to notice a distinct pattern with humanity: Lust for ignorance and combat come hand in hand with hard times to come. When a man hasn't room in his heart for peace, the anxiousness filling that void spills into violence. She recalled his earlier comment about monsters. "Plus without us monsters banding together on the fields of battle, what reason would humans have to band together?" She spoke with an amused tone. Eerily blue eyes would focus on Genesis. It was like starting through a looking glass. The intensity of her eyes gave reason to not believe she was as inexperienced as her physical age she made her seem. This woman had seen the face of Death more times than she wished to recount. But in truth: she had become Death herself at one point. Thinking on the past, an analect came to mind. It was something that had stuck with her through her journeys. It allowed her to believe, in the end, even if it had been too late to understand. "When the twilight of the gods at last descends upon this world, what emerges from the unseeable expanse beyond that Door will be but music, and that devoid of words: the lamentations of the Goddess Etro, as She sobs Her song of grief." Her voice spoke the words with a mixture of ardor and pain. That is how she saw things currently progressing as she fought to pick up all the pieces scattered through her time. Finally drying her hair she would snap the towel out and rest her hand upon her hip, fully facing Genesis. A coy smirk sat upon her features. "You don't seem an ordinary civilian yourself." His getup standing out more than her half dressed state.

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The sound of the torches were muffled compared to the roar of the fights outside, but they were still loud enough that you would be able to still hear the flames. This was all Genesis could hear above his breath, aside from the amusing, yet captivating words that had seized his attention entirely. His eyes remained focused on the girl as she spoke to him, alluring to perhaps moments of her own past, or maybe those that shared those memories with her. Though as the fight of new combatants outside went on, and as did the life of the torches around them, she went on to explain that she was reliving a memory somehow. This intrigued the LOVELESS fanatic, as he immediately compared such a statement to his own experiences; his selfish demeanor allowing him to see how it played to his own circumstances. This girl was different from any that he had spoken to prior to this day, for she reminded him of someone he once knew, perhaps by the way she carried herself, or how she replied to his words.

The weight of his body shifted as he took a step toward her, and pivoted to face the wall behind Lightning, as he took an ear to what she recited. For a moment he believed he was listening to LOVELESS, and a great amount of anxiousness overwhelmed him, yet he took a moment to over think the words. It was not the story he knew so well, memorized, not in the slightest. Though he could not ignore the similarities it held, how parallel this own girl's rendition seemed to run course to the original he cherished. At first his brow began to furrow at the idea that she was mistaken, but then it began to occur to him, somehow that this world often played host to many from a variety of worlds. That sense of deja vu began to take hold once more, as Genesis looked around the dark hallway with a sense of bewilderment. How could he possibly have known this thought to be certain truth, much like a fact that Angeal's hair had been black? Genesis caught himself for a moment, and turned to look at the pink haired warrior, and began to think of something else. Perhaps these words that sounded so much like LOVELESS, were perhaps another tale about a Goddess from her own world? This seemed to make the most sense, given the revelation that had struck Genesis like a train.

The former 1st Class SOLDIER aimed to keep his composure, despite how unsettled he felt upon hearing Lightning's monologue. Though the tone which she had recited them stood out the most, which made him mentally question the origin of the epic. She spoke about how the existence of monsters helped the humans band together, which made him think of SOLDIER, and how they rallied against the JENOVA Projects that had turned away from the lies fed to them. He knew exactly what it was like to be considered a monster, to be hunted and hated by everything he once knew, or rather suspected to be true. His former life had hunted him down and turned his friends against him, despite his own efforts to help them realize their own destinies. Sephiroth had taken it the worse, unable to come to terms with his own existence, and Angeal had succumbed to despair and woe.

Before his thoughts could once more take hold of him, and his memories sought to hold him prisoner once more, the girl pointed out that he was much like herself. Indeed they were both unlike anything this world was accustomed to, though Genesis would be first to admit his own attire stood out more than hers. Their presences alone were different than anyone that the satyr was perhaps used to dealing with on a regular basis, though that was before the Coliseum's fighters were taken into account. This world was probably undertaking strangers from others worlds long before either of them set foot on these soils. Now Genesis knew how a person from Wutai felt when visiting the expanse of Midgar; the idea made him scoff under his breath. Genesis gave an affirming nod as he smiled, before looking off into the distant crowd beyond. "I am one who has beheld divinity, after being cursed by calamity. A life once known discovered to only have been a lie; I am all that is left of the pride once belonging to a famous SOLDIER" spoke Genesis, alluring to his own past. While the thoughts crossed his mind, he couldn't help but wonder if his past shared something in common with this mystery before him. He returned his eyes to meet the gaze of Lightning's own, before smiling once more to the sight of the fight.

"Genesis"

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DATA TAGS. @loveless WORDS. 414 NOTES. Are you willing to face a new challenge, or run away.

to the soldier, the civilian, the martyr, the victim. THIS IS WAR She could not help but smile softly when he mentioned being a soldier. Though the way he expressed this lifestyle made it seem something more than an ordinary warrior of peace. The former Valkyrie was not surprised by his information. The way he held himself was distinct. He was a soldier, but not as she had been. Her life as a civilian corp left her with more empathy toward others and a drive to protect those in need. It was not saying Genesis lacked this ideal, but he had seen war. His eyes, his posture, and his voice all indicated he was a man of experience. It was not road uncommonly traveled by soldiers. They always lived long, difficult lives wrought with pain and suffering which was etched into their souls. A soldier's spirit may be carried in his weapon, but his heart was worn on his sleeve, easily wounded by the throes of combat. Lines of worry carved rivulets into the brow of the most stone-faced hero. Images of foes defeated and friends lost are burned into the retina of a fighter, the passing memories smoked away by the final crack of the bullet passing his chest. These violent cracks of the past, bearing into one's sides raked the body with an undeniable sense of duty. She too was a portrait of her past. Built up on the ideals of a master that followed his own selfish desires, she became a decisive weapon of change. She would not further the agenda of the Fal'Cie, nor would she play role as the puppet of God. She sought to live a life beyond the bounds placed on them by these infallible, infinite, beings who only sought to be revered by the defiant spirit of the human. But in the face of it all, their selfish actions are what built her. It was their incessant gambling over their lives that created a stubborn, but honest warrior like Light. No matter how much suffering or how much change came through her life, she had always remained the same. She was a stubborn, willful and honest girl. She believed in fighting for one's right to live and not to live on the vices of another's will. She never turned away from a challenge and this day was no different. She had met a new face in a crowd of change. "Do you wish to face this challenge?" The woman turned to face him. Could he face this challenge?

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The life of a SOLDIER inside the heart of the Shinra Electric Company had been anything but easy, though throughout his entire life Genesis had grown accustomed to hardships and misfortune. Were it not for the comfort he found in his friendship with Angeal, he doubted he would have wound up any more different than Sephiroth. The silver haired legend knew nothing but the company, the consistent daily routines of training, the never ending submission to the Director and his superiors. Genesis was thankful for what form of a childhood he had experienced, even if the majority of it had been a hoax created by Shinra to keep an eye on their experiments. The only thing he knew to be real from those times were the memories with Hewley, and the work he had put forth toward his recipe for the use of Banora Whites. Those days when Angeal and himself journeyed around Banora were long passed, however he could recall them as easily as they were yesterday, simply because they were perhaps some of the more happier times he experienced.

That wasn't to say that he looked on them all with an unbiased sense of fondness, for with every good that he had been dealt, there was always a sour aftertaste to the sweet first bite. Such was the case when he revealed the truth to Sephiroth about their true origins, for while Genesis felt he did his former friend a favor by telling him the truth, the man had only spat in the face of his pride and hope for salvation. Were he a true friend like Angeal had always been to him, Sephiroth would have given his cells willingly to Genesis to cease his degradation. A lifelong dream of sharing a Banora White with the the world's greatest warrior had been crushed, and a friendship cast aside as though it never mattered. Perhaps thats why this world held such an appeal to him, for it provoked a sense of reminesence in the former 1st Class. Every battle he had observed since arriving in Olympus had reminded him greatly of his spars in the past. Was this the reason behind why he felt so connected to this place?

There was much to consider now that he was a free man, no longer bound to the tyranny of Shinra, or driven into a selfish fervor by a degrading body. With possibly everyone he used to know now dead, those whom he had considered friends and comrades, Genesis was left here to contemplate the next phase of his life. The Goddess of The Planet had bestowed the Gift upon him, and given him another chance to regain his SOLDIER pride that had been lost. His last fight with Zack Fair had done enough to remind him just who he was and what he stood for, but most importantly what they fought for. He could have beat himself up until he gave into despair like Angeal had, but his encounter with the Goddess had instilled a new fire inside the heart of the former SOLDIER. He was the only true 1st Class still alive, that had not given into JENOVA or the darkness of that heart, and there was still a purpose to serve. Whether it was by his own choice or an intent of the Goddess, that had yet to be determined, though Genesis knew it was up to him to make the best of this opportunity. It was his turn to play the hero of the tale, should he choose to be. Weiss and other potential threats were out there among the worlds, and Genesis knew that they couldn't be left unaccounted for. The Immaculate Tsviet was in little shape to defend himself the last time he was seen, though that wasn't to say the man had yet to recover in the past few weeks. The Deepground leader was a formidable threat to anyone who crossed him, and beared an unhealthy obsession for his brother's well being; Genesis knew the first thing he would do would be to search for Nero. The crimson clad warrior recognized this and the importance of locating the Pure White Emperor, though he didn't have the faintest idea of where to begin his search.

While Olympus held its own captivation to Genesis, it was probably the last place he would expect to find someone like his genetic brother. This place was very populated, but nothing on a scale compared to Edge or Junon, and a metropolis like that seemed the more appropriate hunting ground for a warrior like Weiss. There was no one else to keep him in check, and Rhapsodos had bothered to rescue the man from the Flooded Cavern after all. Weiss was now his responsibility, and any form of chaos that he sought to bring upon anyone was potentially now his own fault. Genesis didn't ask to be charged with this duty, nor did he really want to bear it, though perhaps the Tsviet was all he had left in the world. Weiss and Nero sought him out for help in the past, and the crimson soldier had done what he could to repay that favor. The cells that flowed through the pair of them, that made them as powerful as they were, had been his own in the end. Spliced gene cells enhanced with mako experimentation, which in turn produced some of the most powerful beings known to The Planet. There was no way he would let the likes of Weiss or Nero simply turn into a destructive catalyst like that fool Sephiroth, for the pair of them combined would spell a certain damnation upon any world that suffered their wrath.

Genesis remained silent for a while as he observed the ongoing fight in the arena, until he gave another glance back to Lightning to see if she did the same, only to find that the girl was looking at him as well. The words that left her mouth were unusual, and at the same time cryptic. She asked if he was ready to face this challenge, though he was uncertain about exactly what the pink haired warrior was referring to. There were a number of things that played relevance to this, and this was indeed a question that could be answered in a variety of ways. This was not an invitation for a spar, given her current appearance and apparent fatigue level from the sweat she had wiped from her skin. Genesis assumed the girl was of course referring to his prior statement about his past, though the question itself could have been rhetorical for all he knew. The crimson clad warrior cast a glance over his shoulder at the sound of approaching armor, to find the sight of a behemoth of a man walking down the dimly lit hall toward the pair. Genesis moved closer to the wall to part a gap between himself and Light, allowing the barbarian to pass between them, who uttered a polite "Thanks" to the gesture. Genesis made no response to the man, but merely turned to head into the Lobby. "I've yet to encounter one which I ran from," he replied to Lightning, before he disappeared into the next room.

The former 1st Class continued onward through the trophy room to the exit, and stepped out into the bright sun of the sanded terrace. Many people were still camped out here from the last tournament, deciding it best to take opportunity to witness more foreign combatants take on the champions of Olympus' city states. There was little doubt in his mind that Lightning would simply let him walk away, and thus Genesis came to a stop nearby a group circled around a campfire; the scent of a beef stew was heavy on the air nearby. The auburn haired man looked back, were the girl to have followed him, with an amused expression. "Such an inquiry belies a reason to ask. Do warriors without names frequent this where you're from?" Genesis was curious to know the name of the girl were she to give it, simply to memorize it along with her face. It was of course not every day he encountered an individual versed in fables and epics similar to LOVELESS after all. The Rapier wielder suspected there was more to these similarities than what was obvious, and perhaps more to their encounter on this day. Was this perhaps a stroke of fate, coincidence, or merely nothing at all? She was an unusual individual, though the company was more welcoming than the likes of what Sephiroth had turned into. This girl carried herself much like the higher ranked SOLDIERS he knew in the past, and yet, she seemed as straight forward in character as any simple civilian he encountered in Midgar. Perhaps he would linger here longer to learn more about this new face.

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DATA TAGS. @loveless~! WORDS. 991 NOTES. Memories of the past are aligning with knowledge of the future.

to the soldier, the civilian, the martyr, the victim. THIS IS WAR Lightning allowed the wet towel to hang around her neck, keeping her skin cool as she relaxed from her earlier bout in the arena. Her fists gripped against the ends of the towel, elbows dangling as she stared off. Her chest gently rose and fell as breathed, her mind tracing her own question toward the man. Though she seemed quite physically relaxed, especially after a cool bath at the end of a spar, Light was far from mentally calmed. She worried and fretted at all the changes in the world. With Darkness creeping in from all directions, and going as far as uprooting folks from their planets, the warrior knew in her heart a rebellion of order was coming. It was like clockwork, she felt. First came the peace, than Harbingers to chase the common man from their average lives. This was the disarray an enemy sought to take advantage of. It was only a matter of time before someone fought back. But perhaps someone was already fighting? The former Valkyrie was unsure how much time stood between her, than and now. For all she knew she could be hours away before the end, or centuries. She did know the timeline she followed was distorted and she had to solve the anomalies as they came. Speaking to the crimson warrior had woken those silent feelings of an officer , soldier, within her. Though she was no longer someone who fought at the command of others, she still carried that pride of being able to fight for those who could not for themselves. It was the big sister in her. She coldly scoffed at her mushy thoughts. It was not as if she sought to coddle others. It was merely the responsibility she took upon herself. She knew the person beside her could stand and think the one beside them would act in their stead. Someone had to stand proud! She blinked, realizing she was physically displaying her annoyance unintentionally. She was also a bit grievous that she asked the man, a stranger no less, such a thing. Everyone had their own reasons to fight and not to fight. It was not her place to question them, as if she was their commanding officer. It was a standoffish question and downright rude. She tried to physically brush off her personal embarrassment by running her slender fingers through her drying hair. She started to feel a bit claustrophobic in the hall with the man. The thudding sound of footsteps caught her attention and forced her to shuffle back until she was pressed against the wall. The armored man passing pulled all of her attention. A sudden twist in her heart brought back a lost memory likely locked away in another timeline… She followed the armored behemoth as the strode passed, back shifting so it was to Genesis. She turned her head when his voice carried to her ears. Raising her head. Fully and turning so she could see him a bit more fully in her peripheral vision, she listened. He began to walk away. Her eyes turned to the arena once more. The two combatants: The Dragoon Heartless and Warrior held her focus. For a split second she saw herself in the warrior's boots. The young, inexperienced fighter facing a challenge too great to flee. Facing her was a great warrior that wielded a spear and decked in shining, purple armor. A long, flowing ponytail escaped the back of his dragon-shaped helmet. She was snapped from the vision when the spear met its mark, causing the man the scream. Genesis mentioned never running, but that never meant he did not feel like escaping it all... But she was glad her question was not intrusive. She looked back, seeing the combat between the pair coke to an end with the man's defeat. Defeat was not a familiar taste for a solider, because the moment you were defeated, was the moment your life came to an end. The former soldier turned to follow Genesis toward the Trophy hall before they hit the place where many camped out waiting for seats or the chance to fight. The thick scent of grilled meats and stewing pots made her miss home. She promised she would never be gone long, but he more the timeline seemed to tear, the longer the repairs took. She would soon break her promise, because if the big threat was coming than no timeline would be safe. Light smirked weakly at Genesis' words. Had she failed to introduce herself? She really hates this part. Though she was not the sort to lack confidence in meeting new people, she had no idea how to introduce herself. She was no longer Lightning, but she did not want strangers calling her Claire. She shook her head. "Actually in the arena I used to fight in, a victor's name never stayed unknown for long." Which was no joke back in Yusnaan. "You can call me Light." She offered. Yes.. She preferred being a guiding light rather than the destructive and terrifying lightning. "Sorry if I didn't say so earlier. I guess I was lost in my thoughts." She apologized. "Have you name, or reason to find yourself here among the nameless rabble?" She grinned. For Light a great deal of this was just all too familiar to ignore as coincidence. She was reminded of that hidden memory. Trapped, frozen in time. But whose time was it? Was it his she was sensing, or her own? Fang was the only she knew capable of swinging a spear like that… right? Of course whilst their harmless rabble continued, there were some voices whispering that the fights were being rigged. They suspect that the crowd favorite was winning just because they were the crowd favorite! The large, armored man from earlier? They entered the arena as the next to challenge the visiting monsters. He was taken out, easily, by that Dragoon Heartless.

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