towerofanimus | Icicles filled the long window

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Icicles filled the long window

Characters: Sephiroth and you!
Setting: The dormitory floors, Floor 81, possibly moving to other floors
When: Forward dated to event start, April 15th
Format: Starting as action brackets, but I'll match you
Summary: Brainwashed Sephiroth is in group C. He does his duty. Except when he doesn't.
Warnings: Body horror, blood, possible violence

I: Dormitory Floors
[Sephiroth is standing quietly in your room, by your bed, when you wake up. The small child's body parts have been swapped, seemingly at random, his legs reversed, his arms uneven, his fingers out of order. There's a hospital gown sewn to his body, and his green eyes are glowing. There's no way of telling how long he's been standing there, but he must have been watching you sleep, possibly for some time.]

II: Dormitory Floors
[Sephiroth is suddenly overcome with the urge to do something... He doesn't know why, but he wants to experiment. That would be interesting, wouldn't it? There must be a suitable experiment in the area that he can work on. He moves through the dormitory floors quickly, teleporting from place to place down the corridors, studying everyone he sees, searching for a likely subject. He won't give up until he's found one.]

III: Floor 81
[Wearing nothing but his sewn-on hospital gown, he stands on the glass of the bulging out windows, gazing up at the stars. He'd woken up here suddenly. This is one of his favorite floors, isn't it? He likes to watch the stars, but he doesn't remember coming here. He's aware that something's very wrong, but he's unable to do anything about it. He looks down at his hands. They're covered in blood, and he's carrying a series of small, fleshy objects in his arms, the remnants of body parts. He doesn't remember where they came from. He glances down at the glass beneath his feet and sees that he's standing in a pool of blood, with a trail of blood leading back to the stairs.

Yes, something is very wrong.]

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[chaos usually took the elevator up here, so he avoided seeing the long trail of blood on the stairs..but when he walked into the elevator and saw Sephiroth, he had to pause at the person. He had killed someone..but..who? Not even chaos could sense it, but..he could tell that the Administrators had worked on him. Sephiroth's body was mangled, and his consciousness, his will..they had done something to it.]

..Who have you killed? And why?

[chaos was not smiling, but he didn't look angry quite yet. He wasn't one to just burst in to anger..but this..this upset him far more than he let on.]

[Upon stepping onto the floor, Claudia notices the blood right away. Immediately, her pace slows, her uncovered eye scanning ahead before anything else. It's dangerous here, she knows, so of course she needs to be both prudent and alert.]

[When she spots the person at the end of the trail, though, she stops altogether. She has only spoken to him once, and not in person, but it's easy to recognize him by his age and hair. From where she is, she fails to notice the wrongness of his body, so all she sees is a child and blood.]

Sephiroth?

[She calls out to him, her concern overriding her caution. He said he was capable enough, but even so, it would be stranger for her not to worry.]

[Sephiroth had absolutely no memory of what had happened, or how he'd come to be here holding these pieces of flesh, so he couldn't answer the question. He didn't remember killing anyone. He wanted to say this, but when he tried, he found he couldn't speak at all. He blinked. He pursed his lips, then tilted his head slightly to one side, concerned. Looking down at himself again, he saw the strangeness of his own altered limbs and the gown sewn to him, and confusion crept into his expression, bordering on alarm.

Both the alterations and the gown reminded him of being in the lab, though even in the lab, nothing like this had ever happened to him.]

[At the sound of his name, Sepiroth turns his head quickly. He recognizes that sound. In control of his mind for the moment, he also recognizes this woman. He spoke to her before. He turns his body toward her too, revealing the bloody burden in his arms, as well as the state of himself. The front of the hospital gown he's wearing is soaked with blood.]

[She starts as he turns toward her, but of course the only fear she feels is for what might have happened to him. She doesn't think twice before she starts toward him, her gait hurried.]

Sephiroth, what happened?

[He looks up at her as she draws nearer, studying her closely. Her covered eye interests him, and a question comes to him: has she been operated on?

He doesn't reply, because he finds he can't. He can't speak at all. Instead, he blinks. His eyes glow brightly in the relative darkness.]

[The continued silence only worries her more, so when she's close enough, she moves to crouch down in front of him, unthinkingly reaching out to set one hand on one of his shoulder. It's wrapped in bandages as well. She keeps her eye firmly on his face, not even glancing at the mess in his arms.]

Can you speak?

Edited 2013-04-15 02:31 (UTC)

[chaos watched Sephiroth, understanding. So Sephiroth didn't know either. He had gone into a rage, killing someone in the process..and not remembering what had happened. The Administrators must have altered his voice as well. This..was horrible. They had spat upon free will, and who knows how many other people they had done this to?]

..I understand. So you cannot speak. In your head, speak. Tell me what happened there.

[She's very close to him now, but he remains still, watchful, thoughtful. He remembers, now, being operated on. It had hurt. What hurts now is fighting to remember.

He glances at her hand as it settles on his shoulder. Maybe she's been operated on as well? That sense of kinship makes him feel calmer. She is like him. Maybe she's an experiment, too. That's good, isn't it?

At her question, he shakes his head.]

[He looked down at the bloody pieces of flesh in his arms again. It was easy enough to think the answer. It was already in his head.

I do not remember killing anyone. I remember I was operated on. It was an experiment. This thought was accompanied by a brief memory of the table and the retrieval units. Then another, dimmer memory of another lab: of bright lights, metal tables and needles.

Sephiroth had a strong sense that there was something else he should be doing. I should return to the residential levels. He had work to do.]

[It was times like these where chaos's telepathy came in handy. He heard Sephiroth's words and saw the memories that played through the person's mind. So..they had been experimented on, turned into tools for the Administrators. This was..horrible.]

'Why? Do you want to?'

[She bites her lip as he shakes his head, unsure what to do now. If he can't speak, that limits what she can ask him, but...]

Are you— [She stops and glances down to what he is carrying in his arms, which she could perhaps politely refer to as pieces of meat. Her gaze doesn't linger more than a second or two there, though, and then she looks back to his face again.] Are you hurt?

[If she's like him, he wants to stay with her. He doesn't feel any desire to leave, or any sense of urgency about the tasks he knows he's meant to perform. He continues to stand near her, content to remain so for the time being.

Sephiroth isn't sure how to answer her question. He doesn't feel hurt now, but he has been hurt, and he has been changed. However, he doesn't like to admit to being hurt in any way. He's strong. He shouldn't be hurt. After a long pause, he shakes his head, even if the state of his body seems to say otherwise.]

[No. I have to. His mind didn't want to, but his body began to move in spite of his attempts to fight against it.

Still carrying his grisly burden, because it wouldn't be right to leave a mess, and the organs should be disposed of, he started to walk across the floor, back towards the stairs. He had a job to perform.]

[..So his free will really was taken away. This was horrible and cruel..but, short of arguments, chaos wasn't going to hurt Sephiroth. He didn't want this person to attack him and later feel bad about it. No.]

'..I will not stop you. But know that they are altering your free will, using you like a puppet.'

[Actually, that's the scene Avenger returns to after one of his nightly standard fare explorations. A vaguely familiar child standing quietly by the bed of one of his roommates, utterly silent and motionless. The silver hair remained, as did the poison-green eyes, but Sephiroth's body seemed to become a particularly careless jigsaw puzzle of likes and digits. Wait, were his clothes sewn onto him?

He whistled slowly, drawing the sound out from behind closed teeth.]

Kiddo, what the hell?

[Sephiroth paused, stilling on the bloody glass. Hearing chaos' comment renewed his struggle against the brainwashing. Part of him still demanded he move down to the residential floors, but part of him wanted to stay.

I know. There is nothing I can do yet. I will try to fight.

He didn't like giving up. He was a fighter.]

[Though he's stood still for so long, it's with quickness that Sephiroth reacts to the sudden voice, turning toward the sound as he returns to himself. He can't remember why he's here or how long he's been here.

His gaze focuses on Avenger. He recognizes him. He can't talk, so he simply watches him. He takes a step toward him, tilting his head slightly to the side. His expression is mostly blank, but there's a hint of concern in there, too.]

[Which was something chaos could appreciate. While he wasn't going to fight Sephiroth, as that would accomplish nothing, it was good to see that the person's sense of struggle was revived.]

'I wish you luck then. Hopefully you will be able to break free eventually.'

[Thorin was heading towards the elevator when he noticed a small movement. It was fast and almost non-existent but it was there. A child appeared just out of thin air. Magic? Nothing was uncommon within the tower as Thorin blinked several times. Was he lost?]

Greetings. Are you lost, boy?

Edited 2013-04-15 15:36 (UTC)

[I will. He thought this with a grim confidence. He wasn't intending to give up, even if he forgot himself at times.

He remained where he was for the time being, unwilling to go but unsure how long he would be able to stay here on this upper floor, standing still, covered in blood. The part of his brain that wasn't his was still urging him to go, to clean things, to do his work. He continued to fight it.

Who are you? It was good to be able to communicate with someone. He didn't appreciate having his voice taken away.]

But you're...

[She trails off and frowns further, his reply obviously not doing much for her concern. She doesn't know what else to ask him. She wants to know what happened, but she doubts that would be a simple thing to communicate now.]

[She withdraws her hand from his shoulder, instead moving to set it gently against his forearm. She pays no mind to the blood there.]

Let's get rid of this and go somewhere safer, okay?

[Sephiroth regards her blankly for a moment. He isn't sure how to communicate to her, but he doesn't want to be thought of as weak or sick.

Then, at her suggestion, he nods. He bends smoothly and puts down the parts he's carrying. He's not interested in them. He doesn't even know why he has them. Part of him insists he should clean up and not leave a mess, but he's able to ignore it. Claudia is more interesting to him.

He reaches out for her hand and tugs on it, once. He does want to go somewhere else with her. They should stay together, since they're both experiments.]

[When he takes her hand and tugs it, she smiles, though of course the expression is more worried than anything. It seems very much like a child's gesture to her, which only serves to upset her more. She pays no mind to the blood on his hand and instead moves to lead him back toward the stairs. Blood is something she's used to dealing with, after all.]

We should get you cleaned up.

[Sephiroth, instead of teleporting away to the next far point down the corridor to continue his search, stopped short as he was addressed by this unfamiliar person. His hospital gown clung to his body. Although his legs were bare, he wasn't cold.

He couldn't talk, so he nodded at the greeting, then shook his head at the question. He wasn't lost. He was looking for something, that was all.

Was this person an experiment? He looked different, but it was hard to say. An experiment could look like anything.]

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Floor 81

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Dormitory Floors

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II: Dormitory Floors

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