Sheba | Child of the Gods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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towerofanimus2013-08-13 11:34 am
seekinganswers) wrote in towerofanimus2013-08-13 11:34 am
event ♃ you've got these little things that you've been running from
Characters: Sheba and you!
Setting: One closed, backdated prompt; the others are all open, taking place at various locations in the Tower throughout the week.
Format: Action to start with, but I can easily switch to prose if you want. I'll follow what you do in your tag.
Summary: After the infiltration, Sheba meets up with someone she has an agreement with. Later on in the month, the shadow children break out and some of them start following her around...
Warnings: General angst, possible descriptions of a man being burnt alive in the mailroom prompt depending on how conversation goes, possible character death/suicide in the floor 34 prompt (though it can be avoided depending on how conversation goes), possible character death in Saturday's prompt.
[Wednesday, July 31 - closed to [ou] sephiroth]
[I'll contact you if something happens - well, she supposes this counts as something happening. She'd certainly want to know if he'd found something down in the depths, after all. The thirtieth had mostly been a day of resting and reflecting on what had happened down there, and though her sleep had been uneasy, she's up bright and early on the thirty-first. She doesn't know where exactly she'll find Sephiroth, after all.
He doesn't have a mailbox - or if he does, he doesn't check it - so Sheba knows it's going to take some legwork to find him. She hits up some of the more common floors first, idly scanning the minds of anyone she comes across. She doesn't dig deep. All she's looking for is a recent memory of seeing Sephiroth somewhere, so that she has an idea of where to go. Once she feels she has enough clues, she starts searching for him in earnest - after stopping in the library to take two books to sandwich her set of stolen ones. She doesn't know if it will help or not, but she'd like to not make it too obvious to whoever's watching that she's parading around with stolen goods.
It's later on that she finds him. Even with their agreement, she's not sure how he'll react to being interrupted, so she just clears her voice to get his attention before calling out.]
Sephiroth?
[Sunday, August 11 - all around the Tower]
[When she wakes that day, it's to find three shadow children standing around her bed. Sheba has the distinct feeling that they've been there a long time and it's a little unsettling, because she thought that monsters weren't supposed to enter the dorm rooms. Her first reaction is to let out a cry - sorry, roommates - and to blast them with lightning - even sorrier, roommates - but that doesn't help. When the lightning fades, the shadows are still there, staring at her.
They shift out of her way when she gets out of bed, and one pads a little closer to her when she starts rifling through her trunk for her clothes. It even goes so far as to reach in, suggesting an outfit - Sheba gives it a thoroughly weirded-out look, but takes the indicated clothing anyway. She starts to put it on before glancing at the other two visitors. To her surprise, they're looking away. Then she looks down at the one that had chosen her clothing, which isn't.]
How about a little privacy, huh?
[It shrugs, then scampers over to join the other two. She can't shake the feeling that she's seen this sort of behavior before, but she doesn't get the chance to think on it. The three shadows have disappeared by the time she's pulled her tunic over her head. She blinks. Well, that was... strange. She supposes this is the start of whatever Jason has in mind for them this month. As far as things go, it seems relatively tame.
She wonders how long that will last. But she can't dwell on that, either - if she sits here wondering she won't get anything done. She leaves her room and heads up the stairs to the first dormitory level to catch the elevator. She presses the button to call it and steps inside. As the doors are closing, a shadowy figure darts in after her, and she can't help but take a step back in surprise.
The shadow child stares back at her but doesn't speak. It leans back on its heels and smiles like it knows her innermost thoughts. It's a thoroughly unsettling thirty-minute ride, and Sheba is very glad when the doors open on the first floor and the shadow child scampers out the door and up the stairs.
The rest of the day continues in much the same manner. She's joined by three shadows at breakfast - one sitting right next to her, the other two across from her, in some sort of mockery of a family meal. They leave when she finishes her food and stands up to put the dishes away. Some parts of the day, she is alone. Others, she isn't. A shadow child follows her through the library but runs away when she pulls down a book and turns through its pages, like it's worried it's about to get some kind of a lesson. Another follows her up the stairs and to her job cleaning the pool, gesturing at the water like they should be relaxing in it rather than working. She ignores it to descend into the water, and when she resurfaces, it is gone. A third follows her a few paces behind as she goes about the day, though sometimes it darts forward like it should be the leader, before falling back as though suddenly remembering it's not in charge anymore.
And then there's the ones that just watch from a distance. They're there for her, she knows - she can feel it the same way she can feel their gazes on her. Walking among them is almost like walking among the people in a city. Not Tolbi - in Tolbi it would have been easier to vanish into a crowd. But Lalivero, certainly. She hasn't felt this many eyes on her since she was the Child of the Gods.
Sometimes other shadow children draw close again, and she has the distinct feeling that they're some of the ones she has encountered already, observing and judging as she goes about her usual routine in the Tower. As the day passes, her unease intensifies and is supplemented by a slight irritation. It's as though they're watching, waiting for something, but this day they do not swarm and they do not speak.
Sheba feels like she's waiting for the other shoe to drop, but there isn't much she can do about it.]
[Monday, August 12 - Floor Eleven]
[It's raining heavily, but Sheba doesn't mind. She doesn't mind the thunderstorm, either. She's right in her element here. And besides, she thinks as she pulls up the hood of her cloak, glancing briefly at the shadow child that has been on her heels since she stepped out of her dorm room in the morning, Maybe this thing doesn't like the rain.
No such luck. The shadowy figure follows her out onto the floor and looks directly at the lightning as it flashes, seems to revel in the crash of the thunder. Then it looks to her. Its gaze is still unsettling and she has a sudden flashback to the elevator the day before - the figure that had taken it down to the cafeteria with her. This is the same one. It's smiling like it can read her mind, only she knows it can't, because she's an Adept and she would be able to tell if it was. And right now she feels nothing except a vague annoyance at being followed around like this.
She makes her way to the lake and sits down at the water's edge to watch the lightning reflected in the water. There's something about thunderstorms that ease her mind. She stays there for most of the day, and is actually starting to feel quite a bit better when suddenly the shadow speaks -
"Sometimes I wonder why I gave up the Shaman's Rod for you. It's worth so much more than you are."
She starts, her heart pounding, and looks around. But the voice, though quiet, came from so near, and so the only one that could have spoken is the shadow at her side, smiling at her with those too-bright teeth.]
[Tuesday, August 13 - Floor Thirteen]
[This time, they start talking at the beginning of the day. There's three of them. Two were outside her room - one was at her bedside, impatiently pacing back and forth. Sheba wonders if it would have tried to wake her if she'd waited any longer to get up.
"You're the worst sister ever! Mama and Papa should have left you in the ruins where they found you."
It was a voice she hasn't heard in so long. The young boy who had been her brother, whose only thoughts when she'd been taken had been "Won't someone save my elder sister, Sheba?" even though they shared no bond of blood. She'd stared at him in horror and then run out of the room, only to find two more figures waiting.
"It's about time you showed your face. Or did you think you could stay away from us forever?"
"This is what we get for taking you in? Avoidance and then dooming us all?"
The voices were too much. She'd run for the elevator, hoping that she could get the doors closed before they followed her in, and had practically slapped the button. No good. They'd made it in just in time and she'd resorted to covering her ears and closing her eyes during the ride down. This time it had been her who'd bolted -
"Running away again, Sheba?"
"That's all she's good for, dear. Running away from her duty, her destiny."
"I wish my sister had been someone else! Anyone but you! This is all your fault!"
- and she hadn't stopped running until she'd arrived at the cathedral. Now she's here, curled up in one of the pews with her hands over her ears, reveling in the silence that this floor's terrible acoustics have brought her. The shadows haven't caught up just yet, but the sinking feeling in her stomach tells her it's only a matter of time.
Her collar is still violet - lighter than normal, but still closer to violet than it is to clear.]
[Wednesday, August 14 - Floor Thirty-four]
["Just jump."
There is a crowd of shadows around Sheba, too many for her to count, as distracted as she. The voices, to her, are not particularly notable - it's a sea of vaguely familiar sounds, almost like home, except home was never like this.
She stands at the end of the strip of land closest to the winding path, staring at her feet.
"Aren't you the Child of the Gods?"
"Show us your power."
"This shouldn't harm you..."
"...unless you were really lying all along."]
Stop it!
[The voices don't pay her any mind. They certainly don't stop.
"You lied to us."
"You were supposed to be our savior!"
"But you didn't do anything to stop this."
"You let us all die."
"Lalivero was destroyed because of you."
"You didn't even come home to die with us at the very end."
"Our blood is on your hands!"
"You should just die!"
"Who needs a savior who won't even come home when she has the chance to?"
"Did Babi even kidnap you? You went with him willingly, didn't you?"
"You're always letting yourself be someone else's pawn."
Their accusations echoing in her ears, Sheba takes one step forward, and then another. She's so tired. Maybe jumping would be the better option. Maybe...]
[Thursday, August 15 - Floor Seventy-eight]
[Having caught some of the more recent network posts - during one of the rare times when the words weren't warped beyond all recognition - Sheba is hesitant to check her mailbox. But she knows she can't run from it forever, and so far today has been mercifully free of shadows. Which is a relief, because she's so tired and she's not sure she could muster up the energy to outrun them. Not after the day before.
So she's here now, and her collar is almost dangerously light. Still faintly violet, but much closer to clear than to its original color. As soon as she opens her box she wishes she wasn't - wishes she was somewhere else, anywhere else. England's letter is the first thing she sees, but the fabric bundled up behind it is the first thing she smells, and she backs away with her hand over her nose, reeling.]
No--
[She wants to turn and run. Maybe it would be proving yesterday's shadows right, but she doesn't care. And so she turns, not bothering to close the door - and stops dead in her tracks.
There's a shadow just behind her, and she fears she knows who it is. For now, it is silent. But then, Felix was always a man of few words. She feels his stare, and it almost feels - accusatory. Questioning. She flinches away from him and turns back to the opened mailbox. As much as she wants to ignore this, she knows she can't. So she clears the distance and reaches in for the cloth, choking back a sob. She's not sure when she started crying.
When her fingers touch the material, she hears his voice.
"I suppose you're happy now. You've been trying to get me killed for awhile now, haven't you? I almost died for you on Venus Lighthouse. Now I'm dead, and all of Weyard with me."]
No, that's not-- Felix-- Please--
["It would have been better if I'd never met you at all. All you wanted was to go to Jupiter Lighthouse. Without a Jupiter Adept, maybe Isaac could have stopped me before we lit all the beacons."
She squeezes her eyes shut.]
Weyard was dying--
["Weyard and everyone on it is dead because of you. But I'm not surprised. You were always such a pain."]
Stop--
["If I had to take a Jupiter Adept along, it should have been anyone but you. You were always causing trouble and making me risk myself to pull you out of it. You think you understand me? You think you can share my pain?"
Sheba trembles, shakes her head, covers her face and tries to stop her tears.
"You don't understand anything. You don't even feel the weight of all the lives you stole when you condemned Weyard to destruction. I was willing to play the villain, Sheba. But you want everyone to see you as some kind of savior, and you're the furthest thing from it."
She can't take this. The burnt, ruined cloak still in her hands, she flees from the mailboxes but collapses on the stairs just outside. Felix's shadow follows her and she can feel his stare. She curls up in on herself, clutches the cloak to her chest, and closes her eyes to block him out. It doesn't work.]
[Friday, August 16 - Floor Sixty-two, morning; floor sixty-four, evening]
[That morning, her eyes are bloodshot and her collar is lighter than it had been the day before. She hopes desperately when she wakes and sees no shadows in her room that maybe the day before had been the worst of it, but when she steps out into the halls she knows that won't be the case. Across from her room is another shadow, the way he holds himself too reminiscent of Piers for her to not recognize him.]
Good morning...
[She's too exhausted to fight him. She simply turns and heads down the hall, trudges up the stairs, and takes the elevator to the sixty-first floor. One more flight of stairs and she's at the beach. She looks over her shoulder. Of course, the shadow of Piers followed her the whole way. Before he can say anything, she speaks again.]
I know what you're going to say. I know it.
["Of course you do. That's the one thing you were good for on our journey, wasn't it? Knowing the things people wish to say but haven't yet said."
Sheba sighs and removes her boots, tossing them back before wading into the shallows. The shadow follows her.]
Someone had to do it...
["You learned so much about strangers." A pause. "And yet you know so little of the people you claim to care for."]
Piers, I--
["Don't speak." Sheba is too tired to protest; she kneels down in the shallows and lets the seawater wash over her legs. "You know more of the Tower than you do of Weyard."]
I know barely anything of the Tower.
["Yes," the shadow sounds amused, "And that is what makes it so very sad, don't you agree?"
---
Piers' shadow leaves her at sundown. She has about an hour of blissful relief, until she finds herself on the desert floor, and steps out into the sands. A voice comes from behind her - Jenna's, and she hopes desperately that it belongs to the Jenna that just arrived in the Tower, but it's not.
"Brings back memories, doesn't it? Not that you care."
Sheba's face falls.]
Jenna...
["No, don't. I understand. It's awful to be alone, isn't it?" The shadow steps forward and wraps Sheba in an embrace. "So awful you'd abandon the people who never abandoned you, just because you felt you were alone. How could you leave me, Sheba? How could you leave any of us?"
Tears well in Sheba's eyes and she tries to return the hug, but her hands pass right through the shadow, and she realizes that it's not holding her. Not really.
"We protected you from Saturos and Menardi. We let you come with us when you didn't want to be left behind. And now Weyard is nothing but a wasteland, and you've left us to make new friends... to replace us with people who look like us but aren't us. How can you do it? How can you smile at them and spend time with them so easily? You've already forgotten us!"]
I never forgot...
["No, you did. You didn't recognize that my brother who was here before wasn't really my brother, did you? That he wasn't the one who did so much for you? But you clung to him anyway. And now you're clinging to a me that isn't really me. I guess we were just replaceable. Just a means to an end. All you cared about was your destiny."
Sheba tries to pull away from the shadow, but it moves with her, keeps its inky-black arms around her.
"You were my best friend, Sheba. And you left me all alone. It hurts so much and it's all your fault. I was going to be able to hold Mom and Dad again. Felix was going to be home with us, the way it should have been. And you ruined it. You ruined it!"
She can't escape the shadow, but she can't stop crying, either. Part of her longs to die then and there, just so she won't have to hear Jenna's voice any longer.]
[Saturday, August 17 - Floor Sixty-nine]
[Her collar is so close to clear. When the glamour flickers and fails, it's easy to see that it's not just her collar - her soul is a faintly pulsing violet, the color radiating - not much, but enough - into the immediate area around her chest and torso. When the glamour is on, her fluid is mostly clear with a few streaks of violet.
She can barely move, and it's not because of this floors effects. She's still on the stairs, surrounded by shadows - as she had been all day. It started with just three. Just Felix, and Jenna, and Piers. They'd urged her out of her room, whispering vile things all the while. Isaac, Garet, Ivan, and Mia had joined them later. And then Faran, his wife, and her adoptive brother - and the closer they got to the sixty-ninth floor, the more shadows there were. Laliverans. Suhallans who had believed in her. The servants that had taken care of her in Tolbi.
Their words mix together. Sheba just wants peace. She wants it all to stop. She clings to the stairway's railing, looks out at the clouds.
"That's right," Piers murmurs. "You came from the sky, did you not? Of course you would want to return."
"You could join us," Jenna sounds excited, her arm linked through Sheba's but not really touching her. "You could die too. You should have died with the rest of us. This is a place you can do that, isn't it?"
"But you shouldn't come back." Felix's voice, strong and steady. "You should stay dead. It's what you deserve, after condemning us all."]
What I deserve...
[After everything from this week, Sheba feels like it's true. She pushes herself away from the railing and uses the little strength she does have to walk out onto the clouds, and once a few feet away from the stairs, she lies down and curls up.
The shadows file out after her. Jenna, kneeling nearby and stroking her hair, whispering how it's all her fault Weyard is dead and how she left her friends all alone. Felix at Jenna's side, nodding and muttering his agreement. Piers on Sheba's other side, his shadowy hands over and under her limp one, speaking in undertones about how it was her people who had nearly doomed Weyard so many years ago, and how instead of facing their actions they'd vanished into the skies, and how he was sure they would be proud she was living up to their ancient legacy.
There's Isaac, cloistered nearby with Garet and Ivan and Mia. He mentions how he should have never left the world in someone else's hands, that he shouldn't have let Sheba convince him. Garet, his temper getting the better of him, screaming about all the things they could have done that now they'll never be able to do. Ivan, weighing Sheba against Hama and Hammet and Layana and everyone else he cares for, wondering how Sheba could think so highly of herself as to think her life was worth even a fraction of theirs. And Mia, her tone of voice sympathetic and pitying as she details all the ways Sheba was wrong for the world, and how she feels so sorry that Sheba ever thought she could do good.
And the townspeople from Lalivero and Suhalla and Tolbi. They're cluttered around her, too. There are so many shadows that they obscure the nearly unconscious girl, the almost-clear liquid in her wireframe barely visible when the glamour is out, the purple of her cloak and the gold of her hair barely visible when it's not. But it's possible to catch glimpses of her from the staircase as the shadows shift and push their way forward, ever closer as they continue their accusations and hand out the blame.]
Setting: One closed, backdated prompt; the others are all open, taking place at various locations in the Tower throughout the week.
Format: Action to start with, but I can easily switch to prose if you want. I'll follow what you do in your tag.
Summary: After the infiltration, Sheba meets up with someone she has an agreement with. Later on in the month, the shadow children break out and some of them start following her around...
Warnings: General angst, possible descriptions of a man being burnt alive in the mailroom prompt depending on how conversation goes, possible character death/suicide in the floor 34 prompt (though it can be avoided depending on how conversation goes), possible character death in Saturday's prompt.
[Wednesday, July 31 - closed to [ou] sephiroth]
[I'll contact you if something happens - well, she supposes this counts as something happening. She'd certainly want to know if he'd found something down in the depths, after all. The thirtieth had mostly been a day of resting and reflecting on what had happened down there, and though her sleep had been uneasy, she's up bright and early on the thirty-first. She doesn't know where exactly she'll find Sephiroth, after all.
He doesn't have a mailbox - or if he does, he doesn't check it - so Sheba knows it's going to take some legwork to find him. She hits up some of the more common floors first, idly scanning the minds of anyone she comes across. She doesn't dig deep. All she's looking for is a recent memory of seeing Sephiroth somewhere, so that she has an idea of where to go. Once she feels she has enough clues, she starts searching for him in earnest - after stopping in the library to take two books to sandwich her set of stolen ones. She doesn't know if it will help or not, but she'd like to not make it too obvious to whoever's watching that she's parading around with stolen goods.
It's later on that she finds him. Even with their agreement, she's not sure how he'll react to being interrupted, so she just clears her voice to get his attention before calling out.]
Sephiroth?
[Sunday, August 11 - all around the Tower]
[When she wakes that day, it's to find three shadow children standing around her bed. Sheba has the distinct feeling that they've been there a long time and it's a little unsettling, because she thought that monsters weren't supposed to enter the dorm rooms. Her first reaction is to let out a cry - sorry, roommates - and to blast them with lightning - even sorrier, roommates - but that doesn't help. When the lightning fades, the shadows are still there, staring at her.
They shift out of her way when she gets out of bed, and one pads a little closer to her when she starts rifling through her trunk for her clothes. It even goes so far as to reach in, suggesting an outfit - Sheba gives it a thoroughly weirded-out look, but takes the indicated clothing anyway. She starts to put it on before glancing at the other two visitors. To her surprise, they're looking away. Then she looks down at the one that had chosen her clothing, which isn't.]
How about a little privacy, huh?
[It shrugs, then scampers over to join the other two. She can't shake the feeling that she's seen this sort of behavior before, but she doesn't get the chance to think on it. The three shadows have disappeared by the time she's pulled her tunic over her head. She blinks. Well, that was... strange. She supposes this is the start of whatever Jason has in mind for them this month. As far as things go, it seems relatively tame.
She wonders how long that will last. But she can't dwell on that, either - if she sits here wondering she won't get anything done. She leaves her room and heads up the stairs to the first dormitory level to catch the elevator. She presses the button to call it and steps inside. As the doors are closing, a shadowy figure darts in after her, and she can't help but take a step back in surprise.
The shadow child stares back at her but doesn't speak. It leans back on its heels and smiles like it knows her innermost thoughts. It's a thoroughly unsettling thirty-minute ride, and Sheba is very glad when the doors open on the first floor and the shadow child scampers out the door and up the stairs.
The rest of the day continues in much the same manner. She's joined by three shadows at breakfast - one sitting right next to her, the other two across from her, in some sort of mockery of a family meal. They leave when she finishes her food and stands up to put the dishes away. Some parts of the day, she is alone. Others, she isn't. A shadow child follows her through the library but runs away when she pulls down a book and turns through its pages, like it's worried it's about to get some kind of a lesson. Another follows her up the stairs and to her job cleaning the pool, gesturing at the water like they should be relaxing in it rather than working. She ignores it to descend into the water, and when she resurfaces, it is gone. A third follows her a few paces behind as she goes about the day, though sometimes it darts forward like it should be the leader, before falling back as though suddenly remembering it's not in charge anymore.
And then there's the ones that just watch from a distance. They're there for her, she knows - she can feel it the same way she can feel their gazes on her. Walking among them is almost like walking among the people in a city. Not Tolbi - in Tolbi it would have been easier to vanish into a crowd. But Lalivero, certainly. She hasn't felt this many eyes on her since she was the Child of the Gods.
Sometimes other shadow children draw close again, and she has the distinct feeling that they're some of the ones she has encountered already, observing and judging as she goes about her usual routine in the Tower. As the day passes, her unease intensifies and is supplemented by a slight irritation. It's as though they're watching, waiting for something, but this day they do not swarm and they do not speak.
Sheba feels like she's waiting for the other shoe to drop, but there isn't much she can do about it.]
[Monday, August 12 - Floor Eleven]
[It's raining heavily, but Sheba doesn't mind. She doesn't mind the thunderstorm, either. She's right in her element here. And besides, she thinks as she pulls up the hood of her cloak, glancing briefly at the shadow child that has been on her heels since she stepped out of her dorm room in the morning, Maybe this thing doesn't like the rain.
No such luck. The shadowy figure follows her out onto the floor and looks directly at the lightning as it flashes, seems to revel in the crash of the thunder. Then it looks to her. Its gaze is still unsettling and she has a sudden flashback to the elevator the day before - the figure that had taken it down to the cafeteria with her. This is the same one. It's smiling like it can read her mind, only she knows it can't, because she's an Adept and she would be able to tell if it was. And right now she feels nothing except a vague annoyance at being followed around like this.
She makes her way to the lake and sits down at the water's edge to watch the lightning reflected in the water. There's something about thunderstorms that ease her mind. She stays there for most of the day, and is actually starting to feel quite a bit better when suddenly the shadow speaks -
"Sometimes I wonder why I gave up the Shaman's Rod for you. It's worth so much more than you are."
She starts, her heart pounding, and looks around. But the voice, though quiet, came from so near, and so the only one that could have spoken is the shadow at her side, smiling at her with those too-bright teeth.]
[Tuesday, August 13 - Floor Thirteen]
[This time, they start talking at the beginning of the day. There's three of them. Two were outside her room - one was at her bedside, impatiently pacing back and forth. Sheba wonders if it would have tried to wake her if she'd waited any longer to get up.
"You're the worst sister ever! Mama and Papa should have left you in the ruins where they found you."
It was a voice she hasn't heard in so long. The young boy who had been her brother, whose only thoughts when she'd been taken had been "Won't someone save my elder sister, Sheba?" even though they shared no bond of blood. She'd stared at him in horror and then run out of the room, only to find two more figures waiting.
"It's about time you showed your face. Or did you think you could stay away from us forever?"
"This is what we get for taking you in? Avoidance and then dooming us all?"
The voices were too much. She'd run for the elevator, hoping that she could get the doors closed before they followed her in, and had practically slapped the button. No good. They'd made it in just in time and she'd resorted to covering her ears and closing her eyes during the ride down. This time it had been her who'd bolted -
"Running away again, Sheba?"
"That's all she's good for, dear. Running away from her duty, her destiny."
"I wish my sister had been someone else! Anyone but you! This is all your fault!"
- and she hadn't stopped running until she'd arrived at the cathedral. Now she's here, curled up in one of the pews with her hands over her ears, reveling in the silence that this floor's terrible acoustics have brought her. The shadows haven't caught up just yet, but the sinking feeling in her stomach tells her it's only a matter of time.
Her collar is still violet - lighter than normal, but still closer to violet than it is to clear.]
[Wednesday, August 14 - Floor Thirty-four]
["Just jump."
There is a crowd of shadows around Sheba, too many for her to count, as distracted as she. The voices, to her, are not particularly notable - it's a sea of vaguely familiar sounds, almost like home, except home was never like this.
She stands at the end of the strip of land closest to the winding path, staring at her feet.
"Aren't you the Child of the Gods?"
"Show us your power."
"This shouldn't harm you..."
"...unless you were really lying all along."]
Stop it!
[The voices don't pay her any mind. They certainly don't stop.
"You lied to us."
"You were supposed to be our savior!"
"But you didn't do anything to stop this."
"You let us all die."
"Lalivero was destroyed because of you."
"You didn't even come home to die with us at the very end."
"Our blood is on your hands!"
"You should just die!"
"Who needs a savior who won't even come home when she has the chance to?"
"Did Babi even kidnap you? You went with him willingly, didn't you?"
"You're always letting yourself be someone else's pawn."
Their accusations echoing in her ears, Sheba takes one step forward, and then another. She's so tired. Maybe jumping would be the better option. Maybe...]
[Thursday, August 15 - Floor Seventy-eight]
[Having caught some of the more recent network posts - during one of the rare times when the words weren't warped beyond all recognition - Sheba is hesitant to check her mailbox. But she knows she can't run from it forever, and so far today has been mercifully free of shadows. Which is a relief, because she's so tired and she's not sure she could muster up the energy to outrun them. Not after the day before.
So she's here now, and her collar is almost dangerously light. Still faintly violet, but much closer to clear than to its original color. As soon as she opens her box she wishes she wasn't - wishes she was somewhere else, anywhere else. England's letter is the first thing she sees, but the fabric bundled up behind it is the first thing she smells, and she backs away with her hand over her nose, reeling.]
No--
[She wants to turn and run. Maybe it would be proving yesterday's shadows right, but she doesn't care. And so she turns, not bothering to close the door - and stops dead in her tracks.
There's a shadow just behind her, and she fears she knows who it is. For now, it is silent. But then, Felix was always a man of few words. She feels his stare, and it almost feels - accusatory. Questioning. She flinches away from him and turns back to the opened mailbox. As much as she wants to ignore this, she knows she can't. So she clears the distance and reaches in for the cloth, choking back a sob. She's not sure when she started crying.
When her fingers touch the material, she hears his voice.
"I suppose you're happy now. You've been trying to get me killed for awhile now, haven't you? I almost died for you on Venus Lighthouse. Now I'm dead, and all of Weyard with me."]
No, that's not-- Felix-- Please--
["It would have been better if I'd never met you at all. All you wanted was to go to Jupiter Lighthouse. Without a Jupiter Adept, maybe Isaac could have stopped me before we lit all the beacons."
She squeezes her eyes shut.]
Weyard was dying--
["Weyard and everyone on it is dead because of you. But I'm not surprised. You were always such a pain."]
Stop--
["If I had to take a Jupiter Adept along, it should have been anyone but you. You were always causing trouble and making me risk myself to pull you out of it. You think you understand me? You think you can share my pain?"
Sheba trembles, shakes her head, covers her face and tries to stop her tears.
"You don't understand anything. You don't even feel the weight of all the lives you stole when you condemned Weyard to destruction. I was willing to play the villain, Sheba. But you want everyone to see you as some kind of savior, and you're the furthest thing from it."
She can't take this. The burnt, ruined cloak still in her hands, she flees from the mailboxes but collapses on the stairs just outside. Felix's shadow follows her and she can feel his stare. She curls up in on herself, clutches the cloak to her chest, and closes her eyes to block him out. It doesn't work.]
[Friday, August 16 - Floor Sixty-two, morning; floor sixty-four, evening]
[That morning, her eyes are bloodshot and her collar is lighter than it had been the day before. She hopes desperately when she wakes and sees no shadows in her room that maybe the day before had been the worst of it, but when she steps out into the halls she knows that won't be the case. Across from her room is another shadow, the way he holds himself too reminiscent of Piers for her to not recognize him.]
Good morning...
[She's too exhausted to fight him. She simply turns and heads down the hall, trudges up the stairs, and takes the elevator to the sixty-first floor. One more flight of stairs and she's at the beach. She looks over her shoulder. Of course, the shadow of Piers followed her the whole way. Before he can say anything, she speaks again.]
I know what you're going to say. I know it.
["Of course you do. That's the one thing you were good for on our journey, wasn't it? Knowing the things people wish to say but haven't yet said."
Sheba sighs and removes her boots, tossing them back before wading into the shallows. The shadow follows her.]
Someone had to do it...
["You learned so much about strangers." A pause. "And yet you know so little of the people you claim to care for."]
Piers, I--
["Don't speak." Sheba is too tired to protest; she kneels down in the shallows and lets the seawater wash over her legs. "You know more of the Tower than you do of Weyard."]
I know barely anything of the Tower.
["Yes," the shadow sounds amused, "And that is what makes it so very sad, don't you agree?"
---
Piers' shadow leaves her at sundown. She has about an hour of blissful relief, until she finds herself on the desert floor, and steps out into the sands. A voice comes from behind her - Jenna's, and she hopes desperately that it belongs to the Jenna that just arrived in the Tower, but it's not.
"Brings back memories, doesn't it? Not that you care."
Sheba's face falls.]
Jenna...
["No, don't. I understand. It's awful to be alone, isn't it?" The shadow steps forward and wraps Sheba in an embrace. "So awful you'd abandon the people who never abandoned you, just because you felt you were alone. How could you leave me, Sheba? How could you leave any of us?"
Tears well in Sheba's eyes and she tries to return the hug, but her hands pass right through the shadow, and she realizes that it's not holding her. Not really.
"We protected you from Saturos and Menardi. We let you come with us when you didn't want to be left behind. And now Weyard is nothing but a wasteland, and you've left us to make new friends... to replace us with people who look like us but aren't us. How can you do it? How can you smile at them and spend time with them so easily? You've already forgotten us!"]
I never forgot...
["No, you did. You didn't recognize that my brother who was here before wasn't really my brother, did you? That he wasn't the one who did so much for you? But you clung to him anyway. And now you're clinging to a me that isn't really me. I guess we were just replaceable. Just a means to an end. All you cared about was your destiny."
Sheba tries to pull away from the shadow, but it moves with her, keeps its inky-black arms around her.
"You were my best friend, Sheba. And you left me all alone. It hurts so much and it's all your fault. I was going to be able to hold Mom and Dad again. Felix was going to be home with us, the way it should have been. And you ruined it. You ruined it!"
She can't escape the shadow, but she can't stop crying, either. Part of her longs to die then and there, just so she won't have to hear Jenna's voice any longer.]
[Saturday, August 17 - Floor Sixty-nine]
[Her collar is so close to clear. When the glamour flickers and fails, it's easy to see that it's not just her collar - her soul is a faintly pulsing violet, the color radiating - not much, but enough - into the immediate area around her chest and torso. When the glamour is on, her fluid is mostly clear with a few streaks of violet.
She can barely move, and it's not because of this floors effects. She's still on the stairs, surrounded by shadows - as she had been all day. It started with just three. Just Felix, and Jenna, and Piers. They'd urged her out of her room, whispering vile things all the while. Isaac, Garet, Ivan, and Mia had joined them later. And then Faran, his wife, and her adoptive brother - and the closer they got to the sixty-ninth floor, the more shadows there were. Laliverans. Suhallans who had believed in her. The servants that had taken care of her in Tolbi.
Their words mix together. Sheba just wants peace. She wants it all to stop. She clings to the stairway's railing, looks out at the clouds.
"That's right," Piers murmurs. "You came from the sky, did you not? Of course you would want to return."
"You could join us," Jenna sounds excited, her arm linked through Sheba's but not really touching her. "You could die too. You should have died with the rest of us. This is a place you can do that, isn't it?"
"But you shouldn't come back." Felix's voice, strong and steady. "You should stay dead. It's what you deserve, after condemning us all."]
What I deserve...
[After everything from this week, Sheba feels like it's true. She pushes herself away from the railing and uses the little strength she does have to walk out onto the clouds, and once a few feet away from the stairs, she lies down and curls up.
The shadows file out after her. Jenna, kneeling nearby and stroking her hair, whispering how it's all her fault Weyard is dead and how she left her friends all alone. Felix at Jenna's side, nodding and muttering his agreement. Piers on Sheba's other side, his shadowy hands over and under her limp one, speaking in undertones about how it was her people who had nearly doomed Weyard so many years ago, and how instead of facing their actions they'd vanished into the skies, and how he was sure they would be proud she was living up to their ancient legacy.
There's Isaac, cloistered nearby with Garet and Ivan and Mia. He mentions how he should have never left the world in someone else's hands, that he shouldn't have let Sheba convince him. Garet, his temper getting the better of him, screaming about all the things they could have done that now they'll never be able to do. Ivan, weighing Sheba against Hama and Hammet and Layana and everyone else he cares for, wondering how Sheba could think so highly of herself as to think her life was worth even a fraction of theirs. And Mia, her tone of voice sympathetic and pitying as she details all the ways Sheba was wrong for the world, and how she feels so sorry that Sheba ever thought she could do good.
And the townspeople from Lalivero and Suhalla and Tolbi. They're cluttered around her, too. There are so many shadows that they obscure the nearly unconscious girl, the almost-clear liquid in her wireframe barely visible when the glamour is out, the purple of her cloak and the gold of her hair barely visible when it's not. But it's possible to catch glimpses of her from the staircase as the shadows shift and push their way forward, ever closer as they continue their accusations and hand out the blame.]
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However, it was the 'It's been a while' that gave her away. More than the excited glint in her eyes that he'd had to have been blind to miss, more than the microscopic tightening of her grip around those books that for some reason she had thought to bring to meet him with. Sephiroth spends a beat longer than he does usually when looking at Sheba, verifying the hint in her eyes that he is so sure he read there.
Well, there was only one thing for it. It took a little more concentration than Sephiroth expected it to, since he keeps his metaphysical defenses (however fake they are) up at such a defensive level, but he focused a moment at creating the smallest hole in that wall and thrust a thought right through his inquiring gaze at Sheba - with as much will as he could muster, Sheba is untainted after all.]
You seem very pleased with yourself. Where to?
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Of course I am. It's not every day someone steals from Jason and gets away with it!
The thought is accompanied by a slight smirk. But then she speaks - partially for the benefit of whoever might be listening, partially because she's certain he doesn't like people mucking about in his head.]
I thought we might go down to that floor that has the instruments.
[The accompanying thought -
If Jason's listening in, the music might keep him from hearing what we're saying, and I don't want him to know I have his books. Or at least I don't want to make it easy for him to know.]
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It also frees up his need to look at her to communicate, Sephiroth takes one more precautionary look around the cavern before flicking his wrist and vanishing Masamune, appearing like she hasn't his full attention but really she has all of it on account of that first thought projected. The spoken idea about going to thee music room doesn't sound particularly appealing-
But then it's followed by another thought. Sephiroth nods at Sheba and, to play along answers.]
Alright.
[I wonder if we'd get another tantrum if he knew.]
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There's a faint smirk, but - Jason pretty much is a child, Sheba thinks. There are a good handful of people in the Tower who are much more mature than him. (A good handful of people who aren't, too, but she'd rather not get into that right now.)
She doesn't make any particular effort to look deeper into his thoughts. Her only intention is to communicate with him silently; with that accomplished, there's no reason to prod any further. She just starts walking, seemingly in silence - and she'll keep doing that until they arrive.]
Floor 28
The light music filling the room catches Sephiroth off-guard a little when he follows Sheba into it. He's not spent a great deal of time on this floor before, not being musically-inclined at all, so looks around for where the music may be coming from.]
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[Sheba glances back over her shoulder with a small smile when she sees him looking around the room. Sure enough, strings are being plucked and keys are being pressed even though there's no one around to be playing. She leads him over to a patch of ground near a harp and a piano and takes a seat, positioning herself so that she's leaning back against one of the piano's legs. When she speaks again, it's more quiet -
Sephiroth, being nearby, can hear her. She doesn't know for sure whether or not any administrators watching will be able to hear, but with any luck the close proximity to the instruments will make it harder for them to pick up her voice.]
I found some interesting things the other day. [She holds out the books to him.] I thought maybe you'd like to take a look.
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He tilts his head down at Sheba, she's much smaller than he is and can fit rather snugly into the curves of the leg of the piano. He picks up her words alright though and, taking yet another look around first, lowers himself first into a crouched position and then sits with his own back against the legs of the stool for the piano - drawing legs up into his chest so that with any luck they would be unseen from the stairwell. For once Sheba gets to look Sephiroth directly in the face.
Thick eye-lashed eyes drop from her face to the books she holds out towards him. The skin between eyebrows creases just slightly as he takes them and rests them on his thighs first.]
Books of Jasons? [He flicks the first 'dummy book' up into his chest and looks first over the cover of the book sandwiched in between. He runs a gloved hand over it before looking back to Sheba.] How did you manage...
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[They were dangerous even with the glamour off, after all. She looks to the book he's holding, and then down at the two books she still has.]
I've looked through these a little, but I'm not sure how much of it we can use...
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After a pause looking over Sheba's face curiously for any other hint of a story hidden there Sephiroth fishes the concerned book out onto the top of the pile on his lap. He casts a cautious glance around them again, in case of any legs which might give away the presence of any other, before turning his attention to the book again and opening it. Peering over the pages, though quickly his eyebrows dropping into a frown at the unintelligible contents.]
I see...
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[She's not sure they have enough time to, but she's loathe to part with her hard-won treasure. She shifts the books that she still has before holding another one out to him. This one is mostly translated and seems to have to do with nanomachines. It's mostly basic information.]
I'm actually able to read this one, though. And I can read parts of this... [She indicates the third book.] But I don't understand a lot of it. My world... [She frowns, and there's a small amount of frustration in her voice when she continues.] Much of our own knowledge was lost, and we've been having to learn and re-learn everything all over again. What's basic here or basic on some other worlds is more advanced on mine...
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Eyebrows come to meet in the middle and his other hand comes up to fiddle at one of the tubes in his violet collar. Could there be-]
Microscopic machines. [He states after a while, his voice not more than a whisper. While he has heard everything Sheba said in the meantime Sephiroth doesn't outwardly seem to have done, he was busy reading as quickly as he could.] Interesting.
We didn't have this technology on My World, but there was certainly a basis for it. In cybernetics, in robotics. [With some effort Sephiroth looks from the book, back to Sheba's face. He's very careful to keep his voice as quiet as possible, least quieter than the music playing in the background.] But certainly nothing with the level of AI - artificial intelligence - that would be required to implement here, on such a vast scale.
[He closes the book, his frown etched permanently across his forehead while he thought of the deeper implications.] I don't suppose you came across anything that would put any of this in context?
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I haven't. But then... I keep wondering if maybe that's because I don't know what most of this stuff is to begin with.
[She looks down at the books and purses her lips. Someone who understands the basics may be able to connect the dots better than she could.] And I didn't have a whole lot of time to look around down there. We only just barely made it out.
[If she'd been even just a fraction slower, it would have been all over.]
I figured you would probably have some idea of what this all is, though. You know many things that I don't.
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This could mean anything-
[Afterwards, he takes a breath - eyebrows still creased slightly in the middle.]
Potentially, in theory, these 'nanomachines' could have many uses. They would exist inside of us, doing whatever they were programmed to do at any particular time. Commands could be controlled externally. The implications are endless. They could even be dormant until-
[Sephiroth pauses abruptly, his eyes widening a touch. All the control. Was this how they were doing it? He goes silent, eyes focusing on the open page once more. He remembers specifically his first encounter with Jason - he'd disabled limbs at the touch of a button. But how far did this technology stretch? Is that how they were ensuring the collar checks now as well? Was it another level of control or was it already all built into the same set of controls?
After a long pause, Sephiroth closes the book and hands it back to Sheba. It's absurd to think that Sheba could have haphazardly come across the one book that could unravel the Tower's control, there were undoubtedly hundreds - if not more such titles hidden away. Any one of the illegible texts could be equally relevant a key.]
How safe are you keeping these?
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She doesn't particularly want to think about it. She looks down at the books and her hold on them tightens a little. Her voice is just a little bit shaky when she speaks up to answer his question.]
I never let them out of my sight. [A pause.] And I don't leave them in my trunk overnight, either.
[She'd been awake when time had stopped. She knows by now that their trunks are looted through and anything that might be real is replaced. There's no way she'd risk letting the retrieval units get their hands on the books.]
...if you know of a better way to keep them safe, I could use the help.
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He swallows that particular lump down hard and continues to watch Sheba carefully, judging her reaction. It is good that she doesn't leave the books in her trunk, though that hardly means that they are safe. Sephiroth recalls how he'd swept the Tower all night long and then some, in possession of a particular tank, to try and consider somewhere 'safe' to stash it. In the end, Ganondorf had proved to be the only option. Sephiroth is sure at some point he's going to regret that decision.]
I do know of a potential way. Though I would prefer not to have too many eggs in one basket - so to speak.
[It's whispered, almost so low his words wouldn't be heard.
Odd. He had once looked to Sheba for her information and insight to Pandora - now it seems she's come to him for help when surely there were others she could have asked instead of him.]
Have you shared this with anyone else?
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[At least if they're widespread, there was a chance of some of their spoils surviving a purge. She agrees with Sephiroth that it's safest not to put all their eggs in a single basket.
(Particularly if that basket is Ganondorf, but she doesn't know about that.)
She sighs and looks down at the books when he questions her again.]
Yes. The person who was with me when I took these, and one other. But one of them is very... reckless. [She loves you, Dark Pit, but you're reckless. And charging Jason directly proved it.] And the other has quite a lot on his plate already.
[She fidgets, a little uncomfortable.]
...you're more careful than a lot of the people I know, so I thought there would be less of a chance of these getting discovered by the wrong person if I came to you.
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[That's how Ganondorf was doing it, anyway. As he understood it. Magically concealing and then teleporting that tank around the Tower every so often. Is he jealous of that power? Perhaps - though until now he's not needed anything of the sort. Sephiroth is and always will be one of showcasers when it came to powers; there is little point having them if you don't take every advantage they give you - as often as necessary.
But 'careful' - yes Sephiroth does consider himself so, though at the same time he holds himself in plain sight a lot on purpose for the Admins to see. He wants them to know what they're dealing with, it'd only deepen the satisfaction once he's overcome this place.]
That's good, it's hardly common knowledge then. But the reckless one - I'd be careful. Too many residents have too loose tongues.
[Like Ryoji. Sephiroth sets his jaw a little uncomfortably at that thought. He wonders briefly what exactly the kid has said to others about him, he would have liked to have been a fly on the wall. Noting Sheba's fidget Sephiroth reinforces her opinion with an acknowledging nod.]
Well indeed, there are very few I would trust. And that's at a push.
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I'd rather not put them somewhere only to find out later that they've gone missing. [And things do go missing. The safest place would probably be the sauna lockers, but she doesn't want to risk the retrieval units going through those too. She hadn't thought to check during their rare moments of awareness, and ever since then it hadn't happened again, so she'd really rather keep them to herself.]
I guess a lot of people here value sharing information, but...
[She fidgets again. It feels wrong to be badmouthing the others, but she would be lying if she said she wasn't frustrated by the inability of some of them to keep a secret. She likes finding things out as much as anyone else - more, even, which is why she makes use of Mind Read where she can - but she's also pretty adamant about keeping secrets, too.]
Sometimes that... isn't very helpful when it comes to not getting caught.
[Why do people put important things they don't want the administrators to know on the network, why. There is a definite expression of annoyance when she thinks about that.]
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Sephiroth shifts a little in his position, stretching legs out slowly and then back in. He is really much too tall to be all crunched up in a relatively small space for very long comfortably. He doesn't seem all that bothered though.]
A lot of people cry out for the trauma they receive.
[Like mass network surveys all about all of them? Sephiroth's tone is laced with an edge of contempt; if the Administration didn't know somethings about those individuals they would certainly easily learn how and where to hurt them most. To break them into submission. He really doesn't have a high opinion of any one here. Even if Sheba has proven herself somewhat more tolerable than most, and now apparently very resourceful as well - to have gotten clean away with such trinkets.]
Remind me to partner with you next time, it's high time my luck changed.