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towerofanimus2013-09-08 02:43 pm
neverbeamemory) wrote in towerofanimus2013-09-08 02:43 pm
Entry tags:
Log 025 | Into new, unseen horizons...
Characters: Sephiroth & Open [Excepting A]
Setting: In prompts below; B - E could be at any point during the w/c 8th September, please date for orders sake!
Format: Bit of both. Feel free to tag in what is most comfortable.
Summary: A: Individuation Fallout - Sephiroth returns a day late after death no. 10 to find someone has been waiting. Others: Various studying, working and thinking; the pressure is now most definitely on.
Warnings: Sephiroth is very prickly around science-associated anything. Otherwise, usual violence associated warnings apply.
C: Gymnasium Floor 39 [Open]
[Sephiroth and the Gymnasium have somewhat of a off-and-on relationship. There had been a time, of more routine excursions, where he could have been found here more often than not. Back when betterment of the physical form he'd obtained for himself prior to being brought to the Tower was more important than anything else. In the face of the Glamoured reality, such concerns were not justified anymore.
Still, as vital as his work with the collar liquid is, Sephiroth will not sit and study endlessly; all things considered after all it would be dangerous to. He refuses to become that man whom he hates so much, and his physical training does well to ensure that he will not slip that way. It helps to reassure him greatly of his own identity, and has the added bonus of venting his pent up frustrations not only of his continued imprisonment in the Tower - but of angry impulse that might otherwise be exploded in one of the many faces of those that, by right, he shouldn't even be involving himself with but had found himself having to accept.
There were always the monsters to train himself to be better against, after all.
Sephiroth can be found pounding bare fists powerfully into one of the punchbags with strength enough to crack the knuckles of most others, running laps around the track, or bench pressing - lain across one of benches once he's verified it as safe to use that day. Always dressed appropriately for the exercise, only in leather pants and boots with his long silver hair braided back out of the way - though armor and jacket are never far away. It's never known when they could be needed.]
D: Sauna Floor 77 [Open]
In the dry heat of the Sauna it seemed that Sephiroth had finally found somewhere quiet enough to recollect his thoughts. The hot air created some sort of bubble around his senses after a while and he found himself drawn into feeling as relaxed as he could ever allow himself to feel - though never letting go of the very sore fact that he's still imprisoned here.
At least he was now going in the right direction. Who would have thought that so many would have listened to his views over the network and then been compelled by those same words to act upon them. The very personal notion that it had been his doing does wonders for Sephiroth's ego, and the fact that he'd managed (though not without some irritation) to obtain a whole tank of violet collar fluid for himself only added to that. What weighed heavily on Sephiroth's mind now was the inescapable fact that he couldn't do this alone. Said tank was being kept hidden on the strength of his shaky trust with another, the science project which now surrounded it (and him) relied also on others he didn't know at all. Not to mention the additional reconnaissance he would forever keep close to his chest, in Sheba and her books. Too many hands, each additional level to a pyramid increased not only the chance of it's ultimate failure, but the gravity such a failure would have.
Not to mention the sour taste the science project alone brought to the back of his mouth every single time he turned his attention towards the study or work. A very particular part of his hatred was forever reserved for scientists, and now through his own choice, and the utter determination he has to put himself ahead, he was having to swallow that and just do - easier said than done with an over-active mind like his. He thought he was holding uphis facade very well, considering. However strained at times, at least so far the others involved hadn't pried and he hoped that it would stay that way.
Sephiroth sighed towards the ceiling as he reclined back on the wooden ledge, spilling silver hair all over one side of the bench from underneath him. Gazing up into the ceiling of the room, though forever he would keep his ears open for the sound of anyone, or any thing that might approach him here.
E: Violet Collar Fluid Research - Study Room Floor 18 [Open, even to not!Violet team]
[Equipment availability allowing and at carefully intended random points in the week, after craftily losing his supervisor, Sephiroth spends the odd few-blocks of hours at one of a handful of locations known to those operating in the tower-wide science project. Though at this early stage there is only observation and notes regarding what can be ascertained from a droplet under these advanced microscopes. The technology of which, and therefore the visible details under various settings, is very much beyond anything Sephiroth has even seen before. If only-
-he scowls as his thought train circulates back again to that man. Sitting back from the microscope for a few moments while he recollects his thoughts, peers over a few open pages of textbooks strewn around to reinforce them and then proceeds to continue with his work. Sephiroth prefers to take his own notes, as well, as evidenced by the words starting to appear scrawled on paper (even if it is really film) nearby.
He is careful, every time to only bring the most necessary of a sample from the tank that remains in hiding; it would not do to spend all of their available resource in discovering the facts only to then not have enough to develop anything that might counter the unwanted effects within the fluid which courses around and througheveryone's his soul.]
Setting: In prompts below; B - E could be at any point during the w/c 8th September, please date for orders sake!
Format: Bit of both. Feel free to tag in what is most comfortable.
Summary: A: Individuation Fallout - Sephiroth returns a day late after death no. 10 to find someone has been waiting. Others: Various studying, working and thinking; the pressure is now most definitely on.
Warnings: Sephiroth is very prickly around science-associated anything. Otherwise, usual violence associated warnings apply.
A; Dormitory 03-02. Backdated 19th August [Closed: Ishtar (xroyal_bratx ) and later-Darres (queensgeneral )]
Mother.
He'd heard her. Just before it had all gone black.
He'd been floating again, outside of his body. There had been a cage this time but his soul couldn't move.
Sound slipped first from the enveloping blackness of sleep paralysis. One whole day and one whole hour later than usual Sephiroth drew a stronger breath, a waking breath. He thought he could hear someone else close by, almost too close by in fact. Sephiroth's still-closed eyelids twitched and tentatively he thought to flex his extremities. After somewhat of a pause while the rest of the paralysis faded it was revealed that only one set of toes felt tangible yet - all three of his other limbs were still gripped in numbness. That same pins and needles that no matter how much he moved said limbs wouldn't expedite it away, Sephiroth knows as he's dealt with it before. There was nothing to do but to wait it out, concerning as it was to note the progression of it from two limbs to three. What would happen when his entire body was numb for a while after being transplanted into a new vessel? The main concern in not knowing if it was intentional on Jason's part, or if it indicated something else.
It would be even more of a failure on his part, to have not realized his freedom - indeed obtained somehow for himself a new, real body before it came to any more longer-lasting effects of having died.
Then came that sound again. So close it was almost as if it was in front of his face. Sephiroth's eyebrows dropped into a frown as he felt a weight on his chest. That sound. Someone sobbing quietly. Why would anyone be here right now, and crying? It didn't make any sense. Eyelids parted and Sephiroth peered down onto the top of a somewhat-but-not-too-familiar parting of hair-
"Ishtar-?"
B: Research Library/Study Room Floor 19/18 [Open]
[Advanced Physics, Chemistry and Biology are just some of the associated titles lifted from the shelves of Floor 19 and brought down one set of stairs to the Study floor on occasion. Though it's not so much to refresh his knowledge in light of his current responsibilities, however it might seem. Sephiroth already knows all of the knowledge, skills and deduction that will be required in breaking down and identifying the elements that make up the enigmatic violet collar fluid. He could conjure methods and generate theories to be tested all in his own brilliant (though never to be referred as scientific) mind.
What bothers him, immensely, is how exactly he has this knowledge. There is a lot to be said for the vast knowledge he accumulated in life and beyond it, from the Lifestream, but without a logical foundation from which to work from he's relying on what could be an entirely flawed medium; his memories. Not that studying any of this from books available here could be at all applied to their subject matter - indeed he wonders what use anything biological could have in a Tower of Illusions - but as the piles of books on the table around him increase, at least Sephiroth could start to feel more secure in his knowledge.
That is, if he didn't think too much about his 'father'. If only he could stop remembering that laugh he'd heard in one of the psychelysis phantoms-]
xroyal_bratx ) and later-Darres (queensgeneral )]Mother.
He'd heard her. Just before it had all gone black.
He'd been floating again, outside of his body. There had been a cage this time but his soul couldn't move.
Sound slipped first from the enveloping blackness of sleep paralysis. One whole day and one whole hour later than usual Sephiroth drew a stronger breath, a waking breath. He thought he could hear someone else close by, almost too close by in fact. Sephiroth's still-closed eyelids twitched and tentatively he thought to flex his extremities. After somewhat of a pause while the rest of the paralysis faded it was revealed that only one set of toes felt tangible yet - all three of his other limbs were still gripped in numbness. That same pins and needles that no matter how much he moved said limbs wouldn't expedite it away, Sephiroth knows as he's dealt with it before. There was nothing to do but to wait it out, concerning as it was to note the progression of it from two limbs to three. What would happen when his entire body was numb for a while after being transplanted into a new vessel? The main concern in not knowing if it was intentional on Jason's part, or if it indicated something else.
It would be even more of a failure on his part, to have not realized his freedom - indeed obtained somehow for himself a new, real body before it came to any more longer-lasting effects of having died.
Then came that sound again. So close it was almost as if it was in front of his face. Sephiroth's eyebrows dropped into a frown as he felt a weight on his chest. That sound. Someone sobbing quietly. Why would anyone be here right now, and crying? It didn't make any sense. Eyelids parted and Sephiroth peered down onto the top of a somewhat-but-not-too-familiar parting of hair-
"Ishtar-?"
B: Research Library/Study Room Floor 19/18 [Open]
[Advanced Physics, Chemistry and Biology are just some of the associated titles lifted from the shelves of Floor 19 and brought down one set of stairs to the Study floor on occasion. Though it's not so much to refresh his knowledge in light of his current responsibilities, however it might seem. Sephiroth already knows all of the knowledge, skills and deduction that will be required in breaking down and identifying the elements that make up the enigmatic violet collar fluid. He could conjure methods and generate theories to be tested all in his own brilliant (though never to be referred as scientific) mind.
What bothers him, immensely, is how exactly he has this knowledge. There is a lot to be said for the vast knowledge he accumulated in life and beyond it, from the Lifestream, but without a logical foundation from which to work from he's relying on what could be an entirely flawed medium; his memories. Not that studying any of this from books available here could be at all applied to their subject matter - indeed he wonders what use anything biological could have in a Tower of Illusions - but as the piles of books on the table around him increase, at least Sephiroth could start to feel more secure in his knowledge.
That is, if he didn't think too much about his 'father'. If only he could stop remembering that laugh he'd heard in one of the psychelysis phantoms-]
C: Gymnasium Floor 39 [Open]
[Sephiroth and the Gymnasium have somewhat of a off-and-on relationship. There had been a time, of more routine excursions, where he could have been found here more often than not. Back when betterment of the physical form he'd obtained for himself prior to being brought to the Tower was more important than anything else. In the face of the Glamoured reality, such concerns were not justified anymore.
Still, as vital as his work with the collar liquid is, Sephiroth will not sit and study endlessly; all things considered after all it would be dangerous to. He refuses to become that man whom he hates so much, and his physical training does well to ensure that he will not slip that way. It helps to reassure him greatly of his own identity, and has the added bonus of venting his pent up frustrations not only of his continued imprisonment in the Tower - but of angry impulse that might otherwise be exploded in one of the many faces of those that, by right, he shouldn't even be involving himself with but had found himself having to accept.
There were always the monsters to train himself to be better against, after all.
Sephiroth can be found pounding bare fists powerfully into one of the punchbags with strength enough to crack the knuckles of most others, running laps around the track, or bench pressing - lain across one of benches once he's verified it as safe to use that day. Always dressed appropriately for the exercise, only in leather pants and boots with his long silver hair braided back out of the way - though armor and jacket are never far away. It's never known when they could be needed.]
D: Sauna Floor 77 [Open]
In the dry heat of the Sauna it seemed that Sephiroth had finally found somewhere quiet enough to recollect his thoughts. The hot air created some sort of bubble around his senses after a while and he found himself drawn into feeling as relaxed as he could ever allow himself to feel - though never letting go of the very sore fact that he's still imprisoned here.
At least he was now going in the right direction. Who would have thought that so many would have listened to his views over the network and then been compelled by those same words to act upon them. The very personal notion that it had been his doing does wonders for Sephiroth's ego, and the fact that he'd managed (though not without some irritation) to obtain a whole tank of violet collar fluid for himself only added to that. What weighed heavily on Sephiroth's mind now was the inescapable fact that he couldn't do this alone. Said tank was being kept hidden on the strength of his shaky trust with another, the science project which now surrounded it (and him) relied also on others he didn't know at all. Not to mention the additional reconnaissance he would forever keep close to his chest, in Sheba and her books. Too many hands, each additional level to a pyramid increased not only the chance of it's ultimate failure, but the gravity such a failure would have.
Not to mention the sour taste the science project alone brought to the back of his mouth every single time he turned his attention towards the study or work. A very particular part of his hatred was forever reserved for scientists, and now through his own choice, and the utter determination he has to put himself ahead, he was having to swallow that and just do - easier said than done with an over-active mind like his. He thought he was holding up
Sephiroth sighed towards the ceiling as he reclined back on the wooden ledge, spilling silver hair all over one side of the bench from underneath him. Gazing up into the ceiling of the room, though forever he would keep his ears open for the sound of anyone, or any thing that might approach him here.
[Equipment availability allowing and at carefully intended random points in the week, after craftily losing his supervisor, Sephiroth spends the odd few-blocks of hours at one of a handful of locations known to those operating in the tower-wide science project. Though at this early stage there is only observation and notes regarding what can be ascertained from a droplet under these advanced microscopes. The technology of which, and therefore the visible details under various settings, is very much beyond anything Sephiroth has even seen before. If only-
-he scowls as his thought train circulates back again to that man. Sitting back from the microscope for a few moments while he recollects his thoughts, peers over a few open pages of textbooks strewn around to reinforce them and then proceeds to continue with his work. Sephiroth prefers to take his own notes, as well, as evidenced by the words starting to appear scrawled on paper (even if it is really film) nearby.
He is careful, every time to only bring the most necessary of a sample from the tank that remains in hiding; it would not do to spend all of their available resource in discovering the facts only to then not have enough to develop anything that might counter the unwanted effects within the fluid which courses around and through