"I've learned there are things well beyond my or anyone's control," Sephiroth replies, rather softly. "Though, more even that that...I've learned how finite and precious the worthwhile things in life are. I could tear myself to pieces trying to avoid the worst case scenario, knowing that it may well find me anyway and render all my efforts useless...or I could spend quality time with the people I love, while I have the chance. Considered that way, the choice is obvious. For you...you struggle with that because you haven't formed such deep connections yet, haven't found people whose company is enough to pull you from your fears for the future."
A pause. "You realize you don't need to wait for your Angeal and Genesis to make friends, you know. Whatever happiness you can find in the present, you ought to. And in many cases, it's not possible to build towards a happier future without some efforts in the present. I worry that you are so focused on trying to prevent something you have no proof will ever happen, that you couldn't prevent even if it does happen, that you will entirely isolate yourself. A story in which a person strives to avoid tragedy to such an extent that they remain forever fearful and unhappy...that story is a tragedy still, whether the person avoids catastrophe or not."
The silence that falls is resignation, not agreement. Whatever lessons he'll learn in the future, in his own past he's learned that there is a point where discussion becomes meaningless, where he's certain the words he's said are heard and simply dismissed in favor of being treated like the child he knew he resembled, to be soothed by a 'there there' and some distraction tossed his way.
It sounded like the lessons of the laboratory, simply extended into other fields. Maybe nothing can be done ... so give up, because fighting back will hurt more.
Maybe the future's unpleasant, so don't bother trying to change it.
Surrender. Be content in helplessness.
At some point in his eventual twenty five to thirty years maybe the lesson becomes so deeply hardwired that the idea of struggling against anything must be rationalized away .. or as close to rational as it can get when the excuse used is of all things, friendship.
It's not about friendship at all, the realization bitter and unpleasant but at least familiar. It's about not putting up a fight, because that's what they're taught to do when it's not a battlefield.
"...Okay." It takes a while to form the lone word, quiet, but it's there.
"I don't need to ask if I've convinced you." It's obvious he hasn't, failure written large - not in his younger self's face or voice, necessarily, although neither is happy and that would be evidence enough, but on a wavelength Sephiroth can't even define. "And I never doubted you would do as you were intending to regardless of what I said."
Because that is, in fact, how it goes. His younger self thinks he's complacent, failing to perceive that Sephiroth is in fact desperately trying to work positive change at every turn, with him, and failing at almost every hurdle. The victories are few and far between, and usually so small that it's not likely they'll change anything significant. A familiar pattern. Small, shining moments in a vast, dark sky.
A train can only run on its rails. Sephiroth has never truly had the chance to change things for the better. He has never been able to improve his own life. Misery and joy are given and snatched away purely at the whims of the universe, and his own actions are, as always, utterly futile. It would seem he can't even improve his younger self's life much...and that attempting to do so is seen as some sort of contemptible capitulation that his younger self has wearily given up trying to talk him out of.
He wonders just how many failures and losses his younger self will go through before he gives up on even the illusion of control. He no longer remembers at what point he himself did. But he doubts that, with his younger self's refusal to reconsider his priorities, that his younger self will avoid any of them. His own quiet dread, for years, that he would lose Angeal and Genesis, and all his efforts to prevent that, hadn't saved them. Fear and planning, without any real control, mean nothing. His younger self will stay stressed and miserable and there's not a damned thing Sephiroth can do about it, perhaps ever could do about it, and losing esteem in the eyes of himself is his punishment for trying.
He can't even be upset. Just tired. At any age, he never learns.
"Did you wish to leave?" He can't imagine why his younger self would wish to stay right now.
The lens it puts on everything is a dark one. All the decisions he's told he can make, all the worthwhile things he can do - in the end, meaningless. Pointless. An illusion of choice when he can affect nothing, do nothing about any of it except brace himself for the inevitable. His older self's efforts, simply some measure to try to make it easier to bear. That too is a kindness in its way, instead of fostering any hope of something truly being different.
The single week or so of being here on this foreign planet hasn't changed anything, couldn't change anything.
He isn't ready yet to consider throwing the train off its rails entirely. Maybe that would change, in the coming weeks and months. He has no friends to lose, no dear ones who can be threatened to make him comply, and that may eventually be a strength instead of a weakness. With nothing to lose, there's no need to fear failure.
The tiny row of dark scales along his collarbone is rubbed again, almost absently. They would multiply as time passed, far more horrific and painful changes waiting than such a minor thing. But for now it's a little trail of almost-black.
"....I think." He was here first, this was a good place to hide. "..I'd like to stay a little longer." It might be an illusion, but it's what he has. Nothing need be said. Plenty has been already. He can take what comfort he can from contact otherwise forbidden from crawling nerves and bad associations.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2024-12-13 01:12 pm (UTC)A pause. "You realize you don't need to wait for your Angeal and Genesis to make friends, you know. Whatever happiness you can find in the present, you ought to. And in many cases, it's not possible to build towards a happier future without some efforts in the present. I worry that you are so focused on trying to prevent something you have no proof will ever happen, that you couldn't prevent even if it does happen, that you will entirely isolate yourself. A story in which a person strives to avoid tragedy to such an extent that they remain forever fearful and unhappy...that story is a tragedy still, whether the person avoids catastrophe or not."
no subject
Date: 2024-12-13 02:26 pm (UTC)It sounded like the lessons of the laboratory, simply extended into other fields. Maybe nothing can be done ... so give up, because fighting back will hurt more.
Maybe the future's unpleasant, so don't bother trying to change it.
Surrender. Be content in helplessness.
At some point in his eventual twenty five to thirty years maybe the lesson becomes so deeply hardwired that the idea of struggling against anything must be rationalized away .. or as close to rational as it can get when the excuse used is of all things, friendship.
It's not about friendship at all, the realization bitter and unpleasant but at least familiar. It's about not putting up a fight, because that's what they're taught to do when it's not a battlefield.
"...Okay." It takes a while to form the lone word, quiet, but it's there.
no subject
Date: 2024-12-13 03:09 pm (UTC)Because that is, in fact, how it goes. His younger self thinks he's complacent, failing to perceive that Sephiroth is in fact desperately trying to work positive change at every turn, with him, and failing at almost every hurdle. The victories are few and far between, and usually so small that it's not likely they'll change anything significant. A familiar pattern. Small, shining moments in a vast, dark sky.
A train can only run on its rails. Sephiroth has never truly had the chance to change things for the better. He has never been able to improve his own life. Misery and joy are given and snatched away purely at the whims of the universe, and his own actions are, as always, utterly futile. It would seem he can't even improve his younger self's life much...and that attempting to do so is seen as some sort of contemptible capitulation that his younger self has wearily given up trying to talk him out of.
He wonders just how many failures and losses his younger self will go through before he gives up on even the illusion of control. He no longer remembers at what point he himself did. But he doubts that, with his younger self's refusal to reconsider his priorities, that his younger self will avoid any of them. His own quiet dread, for years, that he would lose Angeal and Genesis, and all his efforts to prevent that, hadn't saved them. Fear and planning, without any real control, mean nothing. His younger self will stay stressed and miserable and there's not a damned thing Sephiroth can do about it, perhaps ever could do about it, and losing esteem in the eyes of himself is his punishment for trying.
He can't even be upset. Just tired. At any age, he never learns.
"Did you wish to leave?" He can't imagine why his younger self would wish to stay right now.
no subject
Date: 2024-12-13 03:36 pm (UTC)The single week or so of being here on this foreign planet hasn't changed anything, couldn't change anything.
He isn't ready yet to consider throwing the train off its rails entirely. Maybe that would change, in the coming weeks and months. He has no friends to lose, no dear ones who can be threatened to make him comply, and that may eventually be a strength instead of a weakness. With nothing to lose, there's no need to fear failure.
The tiny row of dark scales along his collarbone is rubbed again, almost absently. They would multiply as time passed, far more horrific and painful changes waiting than such a minor thing. But for now it's a little trail of almost-black.
"....I think." He was here first, this was a good place to hide. "..I'd like to stay a little longer." It might be an illusion, but it's what he has. Nothing need be said. Plenty has been already. He can take what comfort he can from contact otherwise forbidden from crawling nerves and bad associations.