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towerofanimus2012-10-10 10:54 pm
neverbeamemory) wrote in towerofanimus2012-10-10 10:54 pm
Entry tags:
001 - Introduction
Characters: Sephiroth & Open (Dormies, any other wanderers etc.)
Setting: Mid-Morning on day of arrival 10th Oct. Dormitory 3-02 then surrounding corridors, other dormitory floors in the path of first exploration. Then later on, Cafeteria.
Format: Will start as Prose but action is Ok for anyone who so prefers it.
Summary: Welcome brave new world. Um, maybe not. Much wandering of other dormitory floors then Cafeteria for the first round of that god-awful oatmeal.
Warnings: Will edit as necessary. Though wordy, very wordy....
Part 1 - Waking
Black feathers fast faded into inky, shape-less, all-consuming blackness. Spiralling down eternally. Maybe he was wrong, maybe this time it would be the end. He could feel something there, picking at his once-impenetrable core and slowing ripping him apart -
Eyes Open. Blink. Focus. Blink.
Move.
Move.
MOVE.
Sephiroth has been here before. Conscious but not yet able to physically affect anything. But Reunion had never been an instantaneous affair before so what was this all about. Indeed, based on previous experience and knowledge this process should take years before he would even have a form again and that's not considering consequences that should come with the latest defeats. All things considered the next question was easier - where was he?
Perhaps sooner than expected, movement was granted. Fingers moved when he willed them again and with a cautious look around Sephiroth sat up. It was a fairly plain room, uniform in its layout; simple enough. When his gaze returned more to his immediate surroundings that's when he saw it - what looked like two letters resting on the nightstand. Without hesitation, out of a desperate need to know they were grabbed and regarded with urgency.
Your world has been destroyed. I saved you. Let's all be happy here.
One eyebrow raised, followed by the other but they soon fell into a scowl as Sephiroth re-read the letter again, checking frantically for any signature and even turning it over to try and ascertain some inkling about who had put it there for him to read. After the fifth time of flipping the paper over and over in his hands it was getting mildly annoying; only the words stated on the page stopped him from crunching it up into a ball and disregarding it.
So the world had been destroyed. Sephiroth had known that was the inevitable outcome of his destiny. Had it been him? Despite the defeat, had geostigma been too far involved with the Planet's workings? If so, who would have thought to save him from it when it had been his destiny? Mother, had she any influence within the lifestream left surely wouldn't have. This should be his finest hour. Some finest hour, sat in a room that seemed totalitarian by its very nature; it's uniformity weeping control. As he began to read the details of the second letter this arrangement seemed even more suffocating. He didn't like this at all and the more he read, the less sense it all made.
At some point during all of this reading, re-reading and intention to glean something between the lines Sephiroth tucked some longer strands of silver hair back behind his ear from where they had fallen and made the next discovery. He had something around his neck! A gentle tug on the collar didn't release him and so letters were forgotten and both hands started to pull on it, trying fruitlessly to gain release. It was only when the effort started to ache at his hands and arms that Sephiroth decided that maybe just now it wasn't worth injuring himself over, he'd never get to the bottom of this if he just sat here pulling at something that simply wasn't going to give. Besides, it had drawn his attention to something that until now had seemed irrelevant.
The clothing, not that it was clothing by anyone's standard, that someone had put him in just reinforced the sickening feeling he had about this place. Plain white, tight skin suits of anything, coupled with the surroundings and the letters as read so far, all amounted to one thing - containment. Not to mention tightness in too-personal places just triggered thoughts of someone, something having its hands all over him whilst he wasn't aware. After all, regeneration in clothing?
It was time to do something about this. Leaving the letters on the nightstand he headed for the chest at the bottom of his bed.
Part 2- One small step for man...
So far this entire experience had been one backhand after another. Someone had taken his destiny from him and called it "saving" him. Somehow he'd ended up in this completely alien place, which seemed to be made up entirely of everything from any worst nightmare he'd ever had. He felt confused, sickened but the chest contents were like a light in the darkness. Despite all of it, it seemed whatever this was all about didn't involve any degrading or stripping of him. Neatly arranged around his shoulder armor was the rest of this clothing; boots, gloves and all. In fact by the time everything had been taken out to check it over Sephiroth had the slightest smirk pulling at the side of his face.
Indeed, he would never be a memory.
Maybe Mother did have a hand in this after all.
His mood was lightened a little by that thought, however unlikely it was bearing in mind the contents of the second letter he'd managed to read so far. Sephiroth hurriedly pulled on leather pants leaving the white suit on as a sort of undergarment for the time being. It made him feel dirty and it did feel almost invasively tight but he just wanted to have a look outside the door, down the corridor. To begin to explore. He could always come back and change should he feel it necessary, if the feeling of nakedness couldn't be distracted by whatever it was that lay in wait outside this room. Boots were fastened and then he headed for the door.
Silver hair swayed from side to side as first he looked right and left down the corridor cautiously before stepping fully from the dorm and beginning to sweep the corridors methodologically. Every corridor looks exactly the same so Sephiroth takes care at every corner to recall the direction he had taken so that he could learn how get back to his 'starting' room. The first stairwell was considered carefully before Sephiroth remembered - elevator, Dormitory Floor One. Question is, up or down? At this point, it didn't matter he'd have to check every floor he could get to in order to find this elevator. After all, he'd need to acquire food at some point.
Cafeteria. Dinner Sitting 10th October
Later in the day, after a brief return to Dorm 3-02 and chance to shrug on his leather jacket (at least it hides the collar a little, though the violet does stand out a little against the black) Sephiroth felt though he was starting to get a handle on his surroundings. It was a start, all things considered and he was quite content that at least in the dormitory levels he had an idea of the general layout. It was about time he satisfied one of the basic needs of having a physical form; sustenance. He made his way back to the elevator on Dorm floor 1 and headed down to the very base of the tower.
A few minutes later, a full bowl of thick grey-brow oatmeal was sat on a table in front of him and he was picking at it with small mouthfuls one at a time. Sephiroth didn't recall many experiences of eating food, though he did know that this consistency was alike to grainy mud and didn't taste much better. He'd seen better looking food on offer and was now contemplating the reasons why he'd only been offered this bowl. Punishment? Some sort of sign he hadn't figured out yet.
One thing was for sure, silent contemplation over and over was starting to infuriate him.
Setting: Mid-Morning on day of arrival 10th Oct. Dormitory 3-02 then surrounding corridors, other dormitory floors in the path of first exploration. Then later on, Cafeteria.
Format: Will start as Prose but action is Ok for anyone who so prefers it.
Summary: Welcome brave new world. Um, maybe not. Much wandering of other dormitory floors then Cafeteria for the first round of that god-awful oatmeal.
Warnings: Will edit as necessary. Though wordy, very wordy....
Part 1 - Waking
Black feathers fast faded into inky, shape-less, all-consuming blackness. Spiralling down eternally. Maybe he was wrong, maybe this time it would be the end. He could feel something there, picking at his once-impenetrable core and slowing ripping him apart -
Eyes Open. Blink. Focus. Blink.
Move.
Move.
MOVE.
Sephiroth has been here before. Conscious but not yet able to physically affect anything. But Reunion had never been an instantaneous affair before so what was this all about. Indeed, based on previous experience and knowledge this process should take years before he would even have a form again and that's not considering consequences that should come with the latest defeats. All things considered the next question was easier - where was he?
Perhaps sooner than expected, movement was granted. Fingers moved when he willed them again and with a cautious look around Sephiroth sat up. It was a fairly plain room, uniform in its layout; simple enough. When his gaze returned more to his immediate surroundings that's when he saw it - what looked like two letters resting on the nightstand. Without hesitation, out of a desperate need to know they were grabbed and regarded with urgency.
One eyebrow raised, followed by the other but they soon fell into a scowl as Sephiroth re-read the letter again, checking frantically for any signature and even turning it over to try and ascertain some inkling about who had put it there for him to read. After the fifth time of flipping the paper over and over in his hands it was getting mildly annoying; only the words stated on the page stopped him from crunching it up into a ball and disregarding it.
So the world had been destroyed. Sephiroth had known that was the inevitable outcome of his destiny. Had it been him? Despite the defeat, had geostigma been too far involved with the Planet's workings? If so, who would have thought to save him from it when it had been his destiny? Mother, had she any influence within the lifestream left surely wouldn't have. This should be his finest hour. Some finest hour, sat in a room that seemed totalitarian by its very nature; it's uniformity weeping control. As he began to read the details of the second letter this arrangement seemed even more suffocating. He didn't like this at all and the more he read, the less sense it all made.
At some point during all of this reading, re-reading and intention to glean something between the lines Sephiroth tucked some longer strands of silver hair back behind his ear from where they had fallen and made the next discovery. He had something around his neck! A gentle tug on the collar didn't release him and so letters were forgotten and both hands started to pull on it, trying fruitlessly to gain release. It was only when the effort started to ache at his hands and arms that Sephiroth decided that maybe just now it wasn't worth injuring himself over, he'd never get to the bottom of this if he just sat here pulling at something that simply wasn't going to give. Besides, it had drawn his attention to something that until now had seemed irrelevant.
The clothing, not that it was clothing by anyone's standard, that someone had put him in just reinforced the sickening feeling he had about this place. Plain white, tight skin suits of anything, coupled with the surroundings and the letters as read so far, all amounted to one thing - containment. Not to mention tightness in too-personal places just triggered thoughts of someone, something having its hands all over him whilst he wasn't aware. After all, regeneration in clothing?
It was time to do something about this. Leaving the letters on the nightstand he headed for the chest at the bottom of his bed.
Part 2- One small step for man...
So far this entire experience had been one backhand after another. Someone had taken his destiny from him and called it "saving" him. Somehow he'd ended up in this completely alien place, which seemed to be made up entirely of everything from any worst nightmare he'd ever had. He felt confused, sickened but the chest contents were like a light in the darkness. Despite all of it, it seemed whatever this was all about didn't involve any degrading or stripping of him. Neatly arranged around his shoulder armor was the rest of this clothing; boots, gloves and all. In fact by the time everything had been taken out to check it over Sephiroth had the slightest smirk pulling at the side of his face.
Indeed, he would never be a memory.
Maybe Mother did have a hand in this after all.
His mood was lightened a little by that thought, however unlikely it was bearing in mind the contents of the second letter he'd managed to read so far. Sephiroth hurriedly pulled on leather pants leaving the white suit on as a sort of undergarment for the time being. It made him feel dirty and it did feel almost invasively tight but he just wanted to have a look outside the door, down the corridor. To begin to explore. He could always come back and change should he feel it necessary, if the feeling of nakedness couldn't be distracted by whatever it was that lay in wait outside this room. Boots were fastened and then he headed for the door.
Silver hair swayed from side to side as first he looked right and left down the corridor cautiously before stepping fully from the dorm and beginning to sweep the corridors methodologically. Every corridor looks exactly the same so Sephiroth takes care at every corner to recall the direction he had taken so that he could learn how get back to his 'starting' room. The first stairwell was considered carefully before Sephiroth remembered - elevator, Dormitory Floor One. Question is, up or down? At this point, it didn't matter he'd have to check every floor he could get to in order to find this elevator. After all, he'd need to acquire food at some point.
Cafeteria. Dinner Sitting 10th October
Later in the day, after a brief return to Dorm 3-02 and chance to shrug on his leather jacket (at least it hides the collar a little, though the violet does stand out a little against the black) Sephiroth felt though he was starting to get a handle on his surroundings. It was a start, all things considered and he was quite content that at least in the dormitory levels he had an idea of the general layout. It was about time he satisfied one of the basic needs of having a physical form; sustenance. He made his way back to the elevator on Dorm floor 1 and headed down to the very base of the tower.
A few minutes later, a full bowl of thick grey-brow oatmeal was sat on a table in front of him and he was picking at it with small mouthfuls one at a time. Sephiroth didn't recall many experiences of eating food, though he did know that this consistency was alike to grainy mud and didn't taste much better. He'd seen better looking food on offer and was now contemplating the reasons why he'd only been offered this bowl. Punishment? Some sort of sign he hadn't figured out yet.
One thing was for sure, silent contemplation over and over was starting to infuriate him.
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