Log 025 | Into new, unseen horizons...

[neverbeamemory]

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. 

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-]   

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 his 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 through everyone's his soul.]  

Comments

[firstnothing]

[If Xemnas is planning something, he's certainly keeping it to himself. No attacks suddenly happen, either verbally or physically. He's just... observing. Adjusting his own mental tallies as needed. There were countless possible motives to such a determined attack on an innocent, harmless punching bag, from enjoying the feel of impact to straight up ignorance that all of it was an illusion..

... He could ask, but well, that would be interrupting.

When the stranger draws to a stop and actually speaks, Xemnas smiles briefly. There is absolutely no actual emotion or friendliness in it whatsoever, but surely the effort counts for something.]

Are you finished? I would hate to interrupt.

[His tone at least, is one of perfect politeness, easy to manage when one feels no scorn or hostility or even amusement.]

[neverbeamemory]

[Perhaps the smack of his knuckles against the punching bag is what does it, the rhythmic pulse of it somewhat of a therapy. No more than every controlled movement of every single muscle employed in the workout though. It's not real, but knowing that doesn't mean that Sephiroth should forget and neglect what he did have, what strength he was proud of. It makes him who he is so much more than the science and it's important to be reminded of that.]

I could go all day. [Pause. Sephiroth turns a little more to look over Xenmas. Silver hair, black leather - oh so that's what he might look like with a tan. That's that mundane curiosity satisfied. But what was it with the silver-haired theme this month? This is the second new arrival he's seen.] What's on your mind?

[As clearly, one does not simply stand and watch without thoughts.]

[firstnothing]

[Sephiroth would look much better with a tan. And a haircut.

If Sephiroth's encountered Xehanort by now, there is a distinct and striking resemblance between this man and that one, save Xemnas seems to be some years older. But there's probably differences in bearing at the very least, not to mention voice. Relatives, perhaps.]

Could you?

[A mild question. All day is a long time, after all. There's a pause, and a slight negating gesture; it didn't really matter one way or another. It's true, one doesn't observe another without purpose or thoughts, though Xemnas wasn't going to venture the vast majority of what had passed through his mind.]

Why do you bother with such activities, when they are of no use?

[Again, not so much as a hint of scorn, or anything else for that matter. It's as if he's asking a question he has absolutely no vested interest in, or was reading it from a book. Exercising one's wireframe seemed ... somewhat pointless.]

[neverbeamemory]

[Xemnas would do well to keep that thought to himself. Sephiroth prides himself on his appearance.

If he's picked up on that resemblance between him and the boy he shared the sauna with, Sephiroth knows better than to assume anything. He doesn't answer the first question; he wouldn't have said it if he thought that he couldn't.

Eyes narrow fluidly at that second remark though. It sounded rather flat but that on it's own is enough of a warning. Sephiroth doesn't take the notion of being judged lightly, but at the same time - he really has no inclination to worry about what others might think of him.]

They are very much of use. My body might be fake but my skills are still very real.

[firstnothing]

How is this a better use of one's time and resources than simple mental exercises? You have no muscles to train. No nerves to sensitize into habitual motion. Your body can't become out of shape, it isn't there.

[Xemnas didn't bother with workouts himself, it was a strange and foreign idea to have to deliberately exercise as opposed to simply going out and handling some task that needed to be done and would require the same amount of effort.]

Of course this assumes you have more useful ways to apply your time, or that you don't simply enjoy the feedback whether or not it's genuinely there.

[neverbeamemory]

[He's not seen this man around before, he must be new yet- it's clear he's already well informed. Impressive.]

Under Glamour any and all attributes granted must be utilized. It's important not to forget.

[Sephiroth strides over to the nearby bench which his jacket is draped over and the armor neatly rested on top. He picks up a shred of white material from next to it - the remains of his arrival jumpsuit which he then uses to wipe the slight wetness from his forehead before sitting down and looking more completely over his observer. The gaze from this man is heavy, though sharp and forever gleaming as he carefully watches, sizing the other man up.]

You will find, that quickly this Tower corrodes that sense of applying oneself.

[firstnothing]

[Xemnas was inordinately fond of collecting information. Although he wasn't sure all of it was true yet, especially the returning from death thing, he's content with what he has so far.

He doesn't really move much. The jacket he wears - unlike Sephiroth's own black coat - seems more designed to conceal than reveal. Really, the violet collar doesn't match the silver and black thing he's got going on.

It's difficult in turn for Xemnas to properly assess the ex-General. The illusions mean this man could be once a tremendous warrior, or a twiggy little nerd the likes of which even Zexion could stuff into a locker.]

Is that so? Is it a subliminal effect of the glamour itself to keep the imprisoned population compliant, or more of a state of learned helplessness?

[Xemnas weighs his own motives and intentions, and finds them more or less completely intact. If something erodes one's desire to act, it hasn't hit him yet. Hm.]

[neverbeamemory]

[Violet doesn't suit Sephiroth or Xemnas very well at all, given their color schemes (it contrasts his pale skin terribly) - though it does reflect their apparently similar qualities, powerful souls have violet collars. Perhaps that alone is playing some role in loosening Sephiroth's more-often-than-not closely guarded knowledge.]

Make no mistake. If they want you to be compliant, then you will be. It depends really on which cycle we're in. They take turns. Learned helplessness is a term applied to at least some residents here.

[Sephiroth doesn't sugar coat it, there is little point. He puts the white material to one side and leans forwards with his elbows on his knees, bright eyes constantly observing Xemnas now - though occasionally he will break to look around. Daytime doesn't necessarily mean there aren't monsters around and he's learned long ago this isn't a floor he can let his guard down on.]

[firstnothing]

I am certain that there are numerous ways to force obedience.

[Xemnas' tone never wavers. He needs to at least practice some emotions here.]

However there is a vast gulf between being forced to obey and going willingly when bidden go. Which cycle is this? I have heard of the ... administration swapping who has control, but there have been few specifics.

[He's still collecting information. Sephiroth might not be ideal for that, as bookworms and nerds tended to be much more chatty about their knowledge, but he'll take what he can get. The looking around does seem a little peculiar though, and quite deliberately, the Nobody shifts his attention to likewise scan the area.

Everything looks perfectly fine. Was that like the holes in the grasslands? Hidden risks? When he speaks again, he sounds a little puzzled.]

Don't tell me this floor has exercise equipment given to suddenly springing to life and attacking.

[neverbeamemory]

Of course.

[Xemnas doesn't know the half of it. Though Sephiroth isn't one to wallow unoccupied, he does know of those who would rather comply and ride it out rather than face any consequences. Despite the fallout from the collar boycott, Sephiroth still stubbornly suffers losing consciousness rather than facing that room with what would amount to a bowed head.]

Riki. [He starts. The skin between the eyebrows of his otherwise carefully controlled expression twitches just a little while Sephiroth prevents his inner thoughts from manifesting outwardly.] He's the architect, makes all of the floors what they are. As such, his cycles tend to be the most - hospitable, if such a word can even be applied.

[Indeed, there is nothing going on. However there is, over the last few moments, a red-collared retrieval unit who has taken a post over by the door to the stairwell. Sephiroth eyes it for a moment before turning his gaze back to Xenmas.]

There is no such thing as a safe floor, not even your own Dormitory is exempt from this rule.

[firstnothing]

[Curiosity assured Xemnas' compliance for only the first incidence of collar-checks and other such routine irritants. Perhaps it would leave opportunity for questions or experimenting of his own.

Unlikely. But time would tell. The new arrival is noted, and he shifts precisely one step to the side, neatly putting Sephiroth and it in his field of vision, if only in peripheral. Better than nothing.]

Hm. A creative mind, certainly. Not without its worth. I have found some floors to be more hazardous than others. So far there has been nothing that caution and common sense can't avoid, I greatly anticipate the challenge rating going up as my explorations continue. How long have you been in this place?

... And what hazards might there be in the dormitories?

[This comes with the sudden tone that suggests he intends to go looking either way.]

[neverbeamemory]

[This had indeed been Sephiroth's some time-ago outlook as well. After it had been shown to him that they could take his free will away and make him to the collar-checks absentmindedly if they wanted to. Since the boycott though, well what had been revealed to them was too heavy to warrant compliant waiting in the Infirmary twice a month. Sephiroth knows that it's futile but regardless, he refuses to accept any level of learned helplessness and what better way to make sure that they know that as well.

Noting the other mans movement-]

Don't pay him any mind. He likes to show up every time I open my mouth. [Sephiroth's tone has a touch of bitterness but for the most part remains as controlled as ever, he doesn't even afford the retrieval unit another glance.]

Too long. 11 cycles, unless I lost a few somewhere. [Because who knows, really. There are hidden hours in their day who's to say there aren't hidden months as well. The silver haired man takes a slow breath and lowers his voice a touch.]

They monitor all the time. Hidden cameras, hidden microphones, hidden trunk checks. I mean safe in literally all senses of the word. [His voice rises a little louder.] Not long ago monsters were able to get into them.

[Sephiroth paused more completely then and considered the man anew. Wondering if he was perhaps losing his resolve, sharing so much, so openly. Either this place was finally starting to get to him, or more logically, he figures with their time limit there isn't the time for newcomers to get acquainted anymore. If he was following his instincts, Xemnas appears as if he might prove smart enough to be of some use.]

[firstnothing]

If he shows up every time you open your mouth then it is certainly something to pay attention to. Is it the same creature every time?

[Insatiably curious, though how he felt curiosity at all when he had no heart was in of itself a good question. But new worlds where nobody quite had the rules down and disobeying them would get you horribly killed had a way of giving Xemnas incentive to figure out what's going on before said grisly end occurred.]

... Ah. Is that all?

[A touch of disappointment, there - not to how long Sephiroth's been about, but the matter of cameras and such. Monitoring, occasional monsters able to get in.. it was safe enough. No place was truly safe, one hundred percent assured of no harm, but somehow he'd expected something.. more.

Maybe Xemnas is used to a far more violent lifestyle than most.]

I can see how this would be troubling to some but it seems like a lesser danger than advertised. Let them watch. Monsters can be dealt with. Is there nothing of this place that is of genuine risk and danger? Something beyond a few minutes' exertion in fighting off attacking monsters, or waving to the hidden cameras? I do not intend to disparage your warnings, and of course any information is useful as opposed to none at all, but the more I discover about this place the more it seems that simple common sense will go far in keeping one out of trouble.

[There's a pause as he considers for a moment, head slightly tilted, gaze somewhere in the middling distance between himself and the floor. Eleven cycles. Was that the equivalent of years, or simply the turn of a single season?]

Perhaps it's for the best. It will provide more time in figuring out how to shut this simulation down.

[Smile for the cameras. He clearly isn't concerned if these administrators are aware of what he intends to do.]

[neverbeamemory]

It's a retrieval unit. It doesn't look like much but-

[Sephiroth stops. Retreating back into his own thoughts a little. Xenmas is right of course. Sephiroth's deaths here are not through a lack of common sense, surely. Many tricks and traps can be avoided, just as most monsters can be easily slain. He furrows his brow for a moment before clearing his expression and standing.]

-I wouldn't suggest trying to fight them.

[Perhaps the other man doesn't have as much of a vigor for independence as Sephiroth does, more likely there are some things that cannot be explained and can only be learned in time spent in the Tower. Much like Sephiroth himself didn't believe anyone else's input until he'd tested it, or seen it for himself, now the tables are turned and it makes him sick to think that he's turning so much into furniture here. Turning away from Xemnas, Sephiroth looks back over his shoulder-]

Time is exactly what is not in abundance. The simulation glitches sometimes, you will see then exactly your state of being here.

[-then he strides over towards the weight rack. It's up to Xemnas if he wants to continue, though whilst Sephiroth isn't outwardly being hostile - Xemnas has trodden on his ego a little.]

[firstnothing]

[As Sephiroth turns to walk away, Xemnas remains where he is. There's only one question asked. Egos aren't his concern, but if Sephiroth chose to leave, so be it.]

Is there any irrefutable proof that the glitches are not part of the design? That these shutdowns I have heard of are not simply another part of the tricks meant to keep one complacent?

[Only a heartbeat's pause.]

I do mean irrefutable. 'Some other level of the tower shows our ruined worlds', or 'we can travel there' means nothing when you are trapped in an illusion. Any worthwhile simulation would be adaptive enough to do such a thing.

[And if there's no answer? Well. Xemnas has better things to do than speak to an unresponsive person; he won't linger long.]

[neverbeamemory]

[Sephiroth paused. As a master of illusions himself he feels obliged to turn back a little and continue in this engagement at least until his patience is worn a little thinner. It's sore, somewhat, that he asked all of these same things once before. Before the Glamour dropped. Quite often he still asks himself, but for the sake of keeping a clear mind he doesn't dwell on it for too long.]

The glitches were not always there. I guess that would be the only proof but you were not here to experience it. Whether or not that which caused them, was in itself the intention of the Administration, well that still is remained to be seen.

[Pause. Eyes narrow curiously a little but the rest of the frown is pulled away.]

Irrefutable proof of anything is impossible to come by, trapped in a bubble of sorts if you would think of it that way.

[firstnothing]

I have programmed digital worlds with more complexity than that. A well timed 'glitch' could do wonders to keep a prisoner from trying to escape. How good an actor do you suppose the average administrator is, I wonder? Enough to believably fake such a thing is an unexpected catastrophe?

[His tone is one of mild curiosity, dim interest; nothing ever gets beyond it. As Sephiroth speaks of the impossibility of absolute proof, he inclines his head gracefully in acknowledgment.]

This is so. There is nothing this place can do or show us, that we can be certain is real. All of it, from our current apparent flesh and blood to the wire-frames and ruined worlds.

[Xemnas' smile is brief and thin.]

I wonder how many people here would be so resigned to their fates if they wondered for long if perhaps their realities are still intact beyond the illusion. There is no true evidence, is there, that any of it is really gone?

[There's a pause then, very brief.]

But I can see I have perhaps overstayed my welcome. Thank you for indulging my curiosity. It has been interesting.

[neverbeamemory]

Nothing but what each individuals mind will tell them to believe - and there are certainly enough instances of that 'freedom' being overruled as well.

[If Sephiroth needed to be reminded of how important his work with the collar fluid is, Xenmas certainly delivers. Though worryingly, now the viability of the same is again called into question. If they were being led down a path-]

Reality does always beg to be questioned. It's been refreshing.

[If not more irritating to someone who has been trying to get his mind to stop over-thinking by even coming to the gymnasium in the first place. The other man seems untouchable in his resolve though and that in itself earns some respect. With a nod Sephiroth turns back to the weight rack, intent on resuming his workout.]