"All right," the doctor said, hands on his hips. "What was it this time?"
His pint-sized patient only grinned through a livid streak of blood down his face, cradling his busted arm to his chest. "Fell on a rock," he explained.
"Uh-huh. Doing what?"
The child's eyes shifted. "Just playing around."
The boy caved under the doctor's stern glare. "Suicide Hill.""Suicide Hill-!"
The doctor groaned and shook his head. "Never mind. Up on the table, Cid. One of these days I'm going to tether you to the ground. The heavens help us all if you ever sprout wings.
Soon after Sephiroth came to Midgar, an infant girl joined him in the labs.
There was no physical comparison - the infant was much too small, and was never exposed to Mako - but the lab techs drew her blood and compared it to Sephiroth's, and made interested noises while Sephiroth lay quietly on the table and the baby fussed bitterly. Once, Sephiroth picked her up, and she quieted immediately - only to start up again when Hojo snatched her out of his hands.
She disappeared one day with her mother, and Hojo was angry for months after. Sephiroth never learned her name.Title:
Midgar RisingAuthor: raisedbymooglesCharacters:
"I'm sixteen, sir," Reeve lied.
The foreman squinted at him, but Reeve was tall and broad for thirteen and had brought his own tools. "Fine," he grunted, "grab a hard hat. We're just pouring concrete today, it ain't hard."
"Yes sir," Reeve replied, and dashed into the crowd of workers before the foreman could change his mind.
His family could use the money, admittedly, but Reeve would have come here anyway. People were coming from all over the world to build the most massive, grandest city on the Planet - Midgar! - and Reeve wanted desperately to be a part of it.Title:
There were already too many kids in the house by the time Shera came along; too many kids and not enough money. Never enough money.
Everything Shera had was handed down: her clothes came from her sisters, her toys were pilfered from her brothers, and every bruise inflicted by her father was passed on down the line to her. That was all she was good for, they told her. She was too little to be any use.
Squinting through her black eyes, Shera stole books from the library and taught herself, so that someday she could be useful to someone.