Yazoo (secondofthree) wrote in ontheedgerpg,

Who: Yazoo and Kadaj (Sephiroth is also welcome to join)
Where: Wouldn't you like to know~ (Somewhere outside of Edge, secret hideout)
When: Early evening
What: The remaining brothers lick their wounds and discuss their next course of action
Warnings: None, really.

Yazoo crouched by the pool of stagnant water, skipping stones and small pieces of broken concrete across the oily surface. Even though it was below freezing, and getting colder as night approached, the glorified puddle was only frozen around the edges...kept warm(ish), no doubt, by the raw sewage and decay that it smelled of. The stench was the last thing on his mind.

He was being used. And he hated being used.

Fireland had them in the palm of his hand. He held power over their lives, and had already shown that he had no qualms about killing those who displeased him. Now that they were a brother short, he felt...incomplete. Loz could be stupid at times, and was a bit of a crybaby, but they were brothers. His absence left a dull ache in the pit of Yazoo's stomach...and the remnant, having never experienced that pesky human emotion called "grief," interpreted it as indigestion brought on by a stressful day.

Muttering curses, he lobbed a large chunk at the center of the pool. It landed in the muck with a sickening plop.
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Kadaj was somewhere nearby, watching his brother out of the corner of his eye with a small frown on his face. He really didn't know what to say under these circumstances that wouldn't involve his speech degenerating into further ranting and snarling about Fireland, Shin-Ra, and even Cloud and Sephiroth while he was at it. Might as well have all bases covered, right? Considering the fact that there was a chance their eldest brother would hear all of the unflattering things he had to say about him, Kadaj ended up deciding to avoid that risk entirely, instead staring moodily into the same pool that Yazoo was distracting himself with and resisting the urge to let out a long, exasperated sigh.

That didn't last very long. Growling under his breath, he began to pace, glaring at their surroundings even as he occasionally glanced towards his brother as if to reassure himself that he was still there. He didn't care if Sephiroth was unmade, but if Yazoo was, that was something completely different. It would be the same if it were him, but since Fireland's closing remarks hadn't been directed towards the others, he was vaguely certain that he wouldn't be the next one to go.

Stopping in his tracks just as suddenly as he had started to make them, he announced quite calmly, "I'm going to kill him."

More pacing, back and forth.

"I don't even mean kill, really," he continued, a smile beginning to form on his features even though his eyes practically glowed with fury. "If he does end up dying while I do it, it'll be entirely by accident, you know? I want him to stay alive as long as possible while I show him just how wrong he was to think that he could control us. Like how we played with that Turk, remember?" A slight pause, as if he were waiting for Yazoo's response. "We might need something more powerful than a simple potion, though," he went on to say, not giving him enough time to speak. "Something much more powerful, something to keep him on the brink of death without quite falling off of the edge. Something precise enough to maximize the amount of agony he can live through without the pesky risk of death, you know? Something like that."

He stopped again, glancing over. "What do you think?"
Yazoo looked up when Kadaj approached, green eyes languidly following his brother's pacing. Kadaj looked as trapped as he felt. They were stuck, just as stagnant as the water a few feet away. They couldn't go against Fireland for fear of being unmade, couldn't go against Sephiroth because of their eldest brother's claims about his relationship with Mother. Worst of all, he couldn't think of any way to get out of the mess they had somehow found themselves in.

He listened when has brother spoke, nodding slowly to show that he understood. Already his mind was racing,coming up with new (and as yet untried) torture methods.

"Regen," he said slowly, frowning. "Regenerates a minute amount of health and energy every minute or so. If we could get our hands on a Regen materia, we could keep him at the brink indefinitely."

Yazoo's lips curved into a smile. "It's a good plan, brother."
"'Every minute or so' might not be often enough," Kadaj countered smoothly, but he favored his brother with a slightly less manic smile all the same. It was always nice to have someone thinking on the same wavelength that he was. "We'd have to pay especially close attention to make sure we didn't push too hard during that minute, and that would just dampen the mood, wouldn't it? We can't really enjoy ourselves if we're constantly monitoring him like that, can we?"

He returned to pacing, but it was much more thoughtful now than just a way to burn of excess energy. "Something more powerful and constant than Regen... does that even exist?" He stared skyward, lost in thought. He didn't want to use the same trick as he had with the Turk, but if there really wasn't anything... no, he wouldn't. That would just be tacky.

A vague thought occurred to him, and again a slightly disturbing smile spread over his face. "If we could kill him and bring him back the way he says he can do with us, that would solve everything, wouldn't it? That would be perfect." Unlikely, though, because Kadaj wouldn't have the faintest idea of how to operate that equipment and change it so that it produced Nin Fireland(s) instead of the four of them. It was a wonderful idea, though. Maybe they could force someone else to figure it out for them.
Sephiroth had been attempting to rest within the hideout, but overwhelming thoughts of failure had flooded his mind. It was too hard to recuperate when the brain was busy at work, especially when the work consisted of replaying the failure that day over and over again. He was inwardly disgusted. He’d literally had the President in his grip, and somehow, a handful of humans had ruined all of that for him. Giving up on the far-fetched idea of actually being able to rest so soon, the former General had left his quarters, scowling at himself.

He had refused any help upon his return, not that either of the remnants had been particularly eager to tend to his wounds or even see him come back, for that matter. Though the injury in his shoulder was ultimately in the worse condition of his wounds, the gash torn into his hand was worse, Sephiroth had decided. He needed to be able to wield without any difficulty, and such a gash posed a complication. Looking down now at that hand as he thought, he kept a steady pace forward. Perhaps the other two were up to something. In order to be successful, he’d need numbers, wouldn’t he? Numbers were all that had kept him from the President today. Utilizing that shaky alliance with Kadaj was likely the best option—better than nothing, at least.

Catching the tail-end of the brothers’ conversation, Sephiroth stopped a few feet away from them and tarried, wanting them to finish. Kadaj’s latest idea certainly amused him; how on earth did he plan to pull that off? Frowning, Sephiroth offered a simple, short reply, despite his not being a part of the conversation—“Humans break too easily. There’s no remedy for that.”
A pale eyebrow shot up when Kadaj started to go off on his rather mad theory, but Yazoo kept his mouth shut. Even though he was a little miffed that his brother had so easily dismissed his own conclusion for one that was logistically impossible, he couldn't find the energy to be annoyed. He just felt sort of...numb.

And there wasn't time to be annoyed, because suddenly their oldest brother appeared out of thin air in that sudden way of his and decided to offer his expert opinion. Yazoo was a little gratified to see that the injuries he'd suffered in the fight against the Turks for their little President were deeper than they'd originally looked, and that Sephiroth was in some degree of discomfort. Thank God for small mercies, he supposed.

Or he would if he believed in any sort of God.

"So what do you suggest we do?" His voice wasn't accusing, merely bored.
Figured that he'd waltz right in just then. Stupid big brother, always barging in where he wasn't wanted!

Giving Sephiroth a venomous glare, his pacing returned to its former furious frenzy. He was halfway tempted to continue the conversation with Yazoo as if it hadn't been interrupted, but his brother's acknowledgment of the favorite's presence just about killed that thought before he could put it into practice. Maybe he'd try it later if the opportunity ever arose. It probably wouldn't, but just in case...

After a few more seconds of this silence, he suddenly snapped, "Yes, what do you suggest, Sephiroth? My idea won't work unless we can figure out how Fireland is pulling our strings, but I'm sure someone like you would have the perfect solution. Unless you really think there isn't one? How very sad. I expected more." His anger was making him reckless, but why should he care if his brother retaliated anyway? If he went so far as to kill him, Fireland could just whip up another one. Hah!
“There’s only one thing you can do,” Sephiroth replied dryly. As usual, there was an obvious air of irritation about the remnants at his presence. This animosity would always exist between them, it seemed. Still, it didn’t mean he couldn’t offer his thoughts—however unwanted they were. Kadaj was too wrapped-up with his own sadistic desires to realize exactly what it was he was saying, so Sephiroth believed. “The solution is simple,” he went on, stalking past the youngest of the remnants and making to circle around them, watching them both. (After all, Kadaj’s attitude seemed more brash than usual just then, and it could very well be that he was planning something against the ex-General. There was no way of knowing what went on in that head of his.

“You kill him. Stop thinking about yourselves,” he growled. “Just like every other human, you kill him. There is no dragging it out. There is no torture. Mother wants them all dead. If you take too long, squandering your time with torturing the ‘important’ ones,” he continued, focusing his gaze once more on the remnant, “they’ll just end up killing you in retaliation.” He stopped his pacing, glancing between the brothers. “And then how would you help Mother?”