Angels Fall [Closed/Open]

[oathshackledbird]

Characters: Sephiroth (neverbeamemory ), Diarmuid Ua Duibhne (oathshackledbird ), Cu Chulainn (puppy_lancer ), Waver Velvet (fionnuisce ), Suzaku Kururugi (swordofzero ), Patrick Dawn (bashfulshifter ), Veronica Madaraki (stitchedupbodyguard ), Ryoji Mochizuki (notsogrimreaper ), Naoya Toudou (imperialsun ), AU Sephiroth (pinnaculum ), Asagi (irreverence ) and anyone who wants to visited a locked up Sephiroth in the second prompt.
Setting: Floor 62 (Fight)-Closed and Floor 43 (Incarceration)-Open
Format: Beginning in prose. Pick your poison after that.
Summary: Months ago, Sephiroth took control of Ryoji and made him fight Diarmuid and Yukiko. That fight culminated with Sephiroth forcing Ryoji to kill himself in front of them. Diarmuid swore there would be consequences for these actions, but held back because of a shaky truce made between Waver and Sephiroth in the interests of moving the collar fluid research along as fast and smoothly as possible. That truce has been broken, and Diarmuid has learned some very disturbing information about Sephiroth's past. For better or for worse, the time for waiting is at an end.
Warnings: Sephiroth is a warning to himself as he will not be holding back. There will also be language, likely mentions of forced suicide, mind control, violence, blood, injury, and death. This will be updated if needed as the fight progresses.

Floor 62 (Fight)-Closed, Friday 11/15:

This had all started months ago when Sephiroth had discovered that he could manipulate and control Ryoji's mind after the boy made the mistake of insulting him. At first he had only played with Ryoji, shifting his emotions and causing him to act in ways he never would toward those he cared about. However, that hadn't been enough and soon things escalated, culminating when he first forced Ryoji to fight his adoptive father, Diarmuid and his good friend, Yukiko, and then made him kill himself in front of them. The actions were not only a violation of Ryoji's very self, but of his rights as a human being, something Diarmuid swore there would be consequences for. In the Tower, though, things are rarely that easy and after 'speaking' with Sephiroth at the Midsummer's party that Cu Chulainn had thrown, Diarmuid realized that just killing Sephiroth in retaliation would have no effect on the man. In fact, he would probably be pleased. As a result of this realization, Diarmuid put off his revenge, searching for a way to make it matter. His revenge would be further put off when Waver and Sephiroth declared a shaky truce so that everyone's energies could be focused on what was more important--the collar fluid.

To say that Diarmuid didn't like Sephiroth working with something so important to the whole Tower would be an understatement, but he was well aware of how much more important the research was to them all than any individual hatreds they had. That was why he let things lie and did his best to avoid causing problems.

Then, Sephiroth broke the truce. Not only did he break the truce, Diarmuid realized as he was nursing his wounds and fixing the minor damages to the printing press afterward, Sephiroth was up to something. Sephiroth could have all too easily killed him, Diarmuid had learned from Reno. He could have as easily as breathing destroyed the whole section of library they were fighting in. Instead, not only had Sephiroth left Diarmuid alive after knocking him out, he had only fought using Diarmuid's own stolen sword.

Why? The obvious conclusion in Diarmuid's mind was that he was hiding something. Something big. Something that left him not wanting to draw attention to himself. Something that probably meant bad things for everyone in the Tower. And that was why this confrontation couldn't wait any longer. It was no longer just about revenge for what Sephiroth had done to Ryoji.

It was about protecting them all and making sure what happened on Reno's world, didn't happen here.

That was why, after talking to those closest to him and securing their help and the help of a few of their friends, Diarmuid had sent Sephiroth a letter asking him to meet him. The letter itself was simple, only enough to get the man to actually come as opposed to ignoring him. It held no lies, but it held no details either, leaving plenty of space for wrong assumptions. Wrong assumptions that Diarmuid was counting on.

Was it dishonorable? Well, Diarmuid had said Sephiroth brought out the worst in him and this was just another example of how true that was. But, it had to be done. In Diarmuid's mind, there was no other choice. If he must sacrifice his honor to protect his family and everyone else in the Tower, he would do it.

At least, it was his choice this time to take these dishonorable actions instead of being forced to do them by another's hand.

As Diarmuid enters the floor, his eyes immediately scan it, and he is pleased to see that aside from the one who is supposed to be there, no others are on it. That will soon change when his friends join him, but for now he has asked them to wait before entering. He wants to make sure he isn't walking them into a trap, especially after what the younger Sephiroth had told him about the elder's suspicious not long ago.

Sephiroth has his stolen sword, which Diarmuid is glad for since part of him had not expected the man to bring it. The same part that had wondered if he would actually come at all.

"So you are less of a coward than I thought..." Diarmuid's voice is cold and detached, much like his expression, and he plans on keeping himself that way. There will not be a repeat of his loss of control in the Library.

Floor 43 (Incarceration)-Open, 11/16 to 11/20:

Floor 43 is often called the prison floor by those in the Tower because it is filled with cells. Cells that strip a person of their powers and can only be unlocked from the outside. They are a great tool for keeping those who cause problems from causing them as long as a person can get the troublemaker into one to begin with. That task is a little easier when the person who needs to be locked up just died in a fight and has almost two hours of sleep paralysis and numbness to wait through. Since there is really no other way a person can get someone as strong as Sephiroth into one of those cells, it shouldn't be too surprising that someone from the fight yesterday has taken advantage of Sephiroth's death and moved him into one of the cells. It is there he stays, watched over by a loose guard of people. Every so often, though, there is a break in the guard which allows people the chance to taunt talk to Sephiroth for a short time.

(OOC: Please do not attempt to free Sephiroth in this prompt as he will be getting let out in a separate log. Thanks!)

Section Links:
Fight-Floor 62
Incarceration-Floor 43

Comments

Fight--Floor 62, Closed, Friday 11/15

[oathshackledbird]

[neverbeamemory]

[It has been with great anticipation that Sephiroth has arrived to Floor 62. Diarmuid's stolen sword firmly in his grasp as he had peered around on the vast beach and it's ocean, fully expecting the ambush to have been sprung not more than moments after he had stepped foot on this floor.

When it hadn't, he had approached the water line. Spent several minutes gazing out over the ocean in silence. Allowing the tranquil sounds of the waves to draw him into a reverie, as all senses became smoothly heightened. There could be no chance that any of them would sneak up on him - he knew for a fact that the Servant wouldn't be alone.

Sensing movement, the shimmering cloak of silver hair swept to one side as Sephiroth turns and peers over an armored shoulder at his approaching opponent. The detachment that Diarmuid's tone holds rehashes all of the anticipation from earlier, though the smirk that threatens the Chosen One's expression does not yet break.]

Though you are no less of a fool than I had assumed.

[He turns more towards Diarmuid, though not completely. Expertly turning Diarmuid's sword around in his right hand, cleanly enveloping the blade within his leathered hand and extending the handle towards the other man.]

Is this really all you came for?

[oathshackledbird]

[Diarmuid eyes his sword closely. The sentimental part of him wants to make a grab for it, trusting his enhanced speed to be enough to rip it from the other man's hand before he can react. The logical part of him--and the part currently in control--knows that would be too easy.]

I would be a fool not to prepare in some way to face you. Before, I might not have known just who I was messing with. I have a better idea now.

[He crosses his arms over his chest, eyes shifting from the sword, back to Sephiroth himself.]

So, to answer your question, yes, I came for more than just the sword. More than just the vengeance owned my son as well. You are too dangerous to be allowed to continue thinking no one will challenge your actions when they stand to hurt so many others.

Today, I challenge you. So, why don't you let me have that sword back--no tricks--and we will move onto what this fight is really about?

[Diarmuid reaches for his sword then, but his eyes never level Sephiroth's face and his body is tense, ready to move at the first sign of attack.]

[neverbeamemory]

[Sephiroth's grip on Diarmuid's sword doesn't move an inch. Neither does that gleaming gaze locked on the other mans face. Other than an unnatural flicker of an -inside- blink to slitted pupils, Sephiroth remains motionless while Diarmuid talks.

Inside leather attire, every fiber of every part of him is tensed with the weight of the imminent fight. And Diarmuid's words, about preparing for him, about vengeance, and challenging; all of these things are just sugar coating something that he already entertains too sweetly.]

So take it, then.

[He waits until Diarmuid wraps his hand around the handle, when in that instant before grip would become too tight to break Sephiroth turns sharply the other way; ripping the sword from Diarmuids' very hand. At the same time, he issues a pulse of his indomitable will backwards - telekinesis to throw Diarmuid back far enough.

The stolen sword is then flung, powerfully, as far out into the ocean as Sephiroth can pitch it. In the meantime, the seven-foot long monstrosity of Masamune is summoned as if from actually within his left hand. Sephiroth's left side facing Diarmuid and the long blade pointed to keep him at the required distance.]

[oathshackledbird]

[Maybe Diarmuid's not as detached from his emotions as he would like to be because the cry that comes out of his mouth when his beloved sword goes flying out into the water--water so deep that a even servant would probably not be able to find its true depth--has nothing to do with his hard landing after being pushed.

However, that hard landing does do something for Diarmuid. It pushes back the heartbreak losing his sword causes and focuses him again on the bigger, more important thing here. Later, he can mourn his loss.

For now he will prevent further ones.

Diarmuid pulls himself to his feet, summoning Gae Dearg to hand. Even though he is pretty sure that the weapon's special ability will be of no use here, he releases the lock on it in a flurry of broken and glowing talisman wrappings.]

If you are hoping to enrage me again like you did before, you will find it much harder this time. Unlike some people I know, I learn from my mistakes.

[CALL OUT TO ALL - Fight is now OPEN to all participants]

[neverbeamemory]

[It's at that cry, that smallest hint of not-so detachment that Diarmuid expresses, that Sephiroth finally allows that smirk to break across his face. He turns more to face his opponent, watching intently as Gae Dearg is manifest. Intrigued as the weapon lights up.

Slowly, but firmly Sephiroth brings Masamune to bear at his right shoulder and slipping easily into his signature ready-stance.]

You are clearly learning from the wrong people, then. Or perhaps misjudging the very mistakes you make in the first place. [He flicks his gaze momentarily over Diarmuid's shoulder, and raises his voice. It was time to reveal, what he had suspected from the outset and what his doppelganger had, unknowingly or not, verified.]

I wonder what they all would think, to know that you called me out to as if it were a personal duel. Knowing all along you intended to set this up as a trap. To invite a massacre, justifying it as the 'greater good'.

[Sephiroth scowls, his expression turning darker as he prepares for the onslaught that he might as well be starting to smell on the air.]

He is not as righteous as he likes to think he is. Wouldn't you think?

[ooc: Please kindly note I'm +5 hours in front of EST, so when this drops off I'll likely be sleeping. Please try to keep attack actions to a max. of 4 tags in a turn, so that I can react to all of them.

That is until the end volley of all-sorts preceding Sephiroth's death.]

Incarceration--Floor 43, Open, 11/16 to 11/20

[oathshackledbird]

Floor 43, Open, 11/16 to 11/19

[neverbeamemory]

[And so, the last of the numbness to Sephiroth's limbs recedes while he is propped up into a sitting position against the wall to one of these cells. Having fought with pins and needles to worm his way off his back and over to the wall in the minutes after they'd thrown him in - just as the paralysis had worn away.

He's not without injury from the transit, either. Though such bruises to limbs beneath leather are only just starting to be felt as feeling returns.

Sephiroth has spent time in a similar cell before, though who-knows how many floors below them. Of course, the force field is tested at points in the first day, but growing desperate attempts to connect with his power and break his way out are fruitless. He had to try, regardless of how well Sephiroth knows these cells from one of Ruana's games past. Though, on account of his powerless state - as hours of solitude turns into a day, as a day slowly turns into two; all too-insultingly human complications begin to manifest.

It's not so warm, in the Tower at this time of year. And despite Sephiroth's leather attire, this is the first thing he begins to notice. He tries not to sit against the wall for such prolonged periods; paces around in his cell intermittently, sometimes using on-the-spot exercises to both pass the time and keep himself occupied. Though it's clear, his superhuman internal thermostat is compromised - the inherent power of his cells to maintain his being has been dampened significantly, perhaps even completely turned off.

Of course, as the days creep by this is not helped by the thirst that begins quickly to border on dehydration, especially on account of his physical distractions. How his stomach begins to growl loudly at intervals, louder and louder as too-human hunger begins to wrack at his entire being. His smell as well as all the terribly humiliating, icky feeling at not having any facility available with which to keep himself clean.

Sephiroth spends longer curled up against the wall, knees in close to his chest. Sometimes shivering, each attempt at his sleeping the time away becomes restless - especially as that light guard, and sometimes monsters linger just outside of the force field that has him cut off from the rest of the Tower.]

11/19

[seekinganswers]

...do I even want to know what happened here?

[She's been in one of these cells, herself - during one of Jason's experiments. The same experiment she'd killed Sephiroth during, even. Someone else had managed to fight back and had locked her in there to keep her from hurting anyone else.

But as far as she's aware there hasn't been anything like that going on here - which begs the question of what Sephiroth is doing in this cell, and why. Sheba looks simultaneously curious and unamused, if such an expression is even possible.]

[neverbeamemory]

[There is a point where silence becomes so absolute that it penetrates your every fiber. When even the steady sounds of your own breathing become affronts to that silence, when the taking of breath has started to ache because your throat has become so dry. Punctuated by churning hunger and creaking of leather on the occasion where Sephiroth stretches his legs out and sometimes forces himself to his feet.

Sephiroth sits, legs tucked in and knees just under his chin. He shudders lightly and raises his head to peer through the force field at Sheba.]

...I doubt it. [It's a good job he's sat near to the force field on this occasion - that voice is beyond dry.]

slides in 10 days late with starbucks

[seekinganswers]

I won't ask, then.

[She's sure she can figure out what happened on her own, anyway. She's well aware that people can get sort of overzealous when it comes to dealing with "threats," and Sephiroth is strong enough that he would definitely be perceived as one if someone had a disagreement with him.

Suddenly, the footsteps she hears around here make more sense. Guards, perhaps? Sheba glances briefly at the staircase, but can't quite make out who's doing the guarding.]

...how long have you been here for?

[neverbeamemory]

[Disagreement would be putting it lightly. Sephiroth understood well the reasons why they had chosen this particular punishment for him and as wretched as he felt now, he would not let them break him this way. This treatment, even if he should die from it, will not be forgotten and the anger he feels towards being brought so low would be re-directed into something much more worthwhile.

The other guards, at this point, Sephiroth has almost forgotten about. He rolls his head against the back of the wall and turns his face towards Sheba. At least they are closer to the same height while he's like this?]

...A few days, I think. A few more and it'll be over again.

[He thinks. Not knowing very much about how a human body degrades without food or water means he can only (poorly) judge his own condition.]

17/11

[culbutiri]

[Nesir usually didn't pay any attention to the cells as she walked through this floor, collecting rubbish. Usually because usually while she was working the cells were empty, so one with a person in them caught her eye.

Even more so when it was Sephiroth, she blinked and drew closer, looking at the guards, finding a moment when they weren't looking to slip past.

Now, if anyone asked, Nesir would tell them that she was perfectly happy to see Sephiroth humiliated and behind bars. But truthfully... it was just pathetic. All the more so that she doubted Zo had done this to him, and the fact he had guards... guards who were other residents. She frowned and drew closer.

She moved to the glass and tapped it lightly.] Sephiroth, can you be hearing me?

[neverbeamemory]

[He's been pacing the length of the cell, to keep warm. Apparently sitting for hours upon end on the hard floor only serves to make your legs numb - he can't let himself succumb to this imprisonment. Prison within a prison as it is.

When Nesir calls out, he's with his back to the force field door - a little way into the cell. That voice is unmistakable though, with it's definable accent, and having brewed in the silence for a while already it probably sounded louder than she was really being. Of all the people to have come across him while he was trapped in here, this wasn't going to do him any favors-]

Nesir... [He slowly peers back over his armored shoulder at her, carefully keeping his expression passive.]

[culbutiri]

Who did be doing this to... [She scowled, because this was Sephiroth and though she felt a sense of loyalty to him because he was on the side of darkness, and because no one should bring a ally of Nesir's so low, did not mean she liked him. Or wanted him to suspect so] You did be finally learning you do no be being the most powerful being here did you?

[neverbeamemory]

[The scowl is noted, if questioned silently in Sephiroth's head. If she thought so little of him, and went to great lengths to express so as she had, why was she even asking.

He returns the scowl, pride rubbed at with coarse sandpaper indeed as he turned more fully around to face Nesir. He looks a bit scuffed in places on account of being dragged here from his Dormitory but otherwise it's usual, flawless Sephiroth.]

They are not more powerful than me. A swarm can move mountains.

11/19

[monstrueux]

Ah, another criminal!

[Gilles runs his fingers lightly over the bars of Sephiroth's prison. Inexplicably (well, not inexplicably for anyone who knows him), he is accompanied by a tentacle monster. He is wearing his armor today, and his sword is sheathed at his side.]

How cruel... look what they have done to you, how you suffer. That may be my fate someday!

Can you tell me, what have you done?

[neverbeamemory]

[He's not had a visitor at all for several hours, other than the occasional passing of the guards. Somehow he's ended up with his side curled up against the wall rather than being sat with his back against it, both arms curled around his shrinking, convulsing stomach with his legs crunched up, fallen knees almost to the floor.

Sephiroth's already well into his dehydration to the point where his breathing is sharper, his vision more often than not is unfocused and lethargic. Starvation lingers not too far behind, but from the small convulsions as he snoozes, the wasting away is starting to spiral out of control despite his physique - probably the only reason he's lasted this long.

At the muffled sound on the other side of the force field, Sephiroth twitches eyelids before managing to open them, resting the side of his head against the wall as he tries, fruitlessly, to make sense of the visitor. He can't register the words, or the accompanying monster very well at all.]

What?

[It's barely more than a whisper over cracking vocals.]

[monstrueux]

[Gilles doesn't seem to mind at all that he wasn't heard, but he raises his voice. As his voice starts out loud, this is quite a volume.]

How monstrous! And I'm sure your captors consider this merciful, do they not? Just.

[He kneels down to be closer to Sephiroth. He sighs with sympathy, but at the same time, the obvious pain Sephiroth is in is rather gratifying. As Sephiroth is starved for food, Gilles has been starved for suffering.]

Stranger... you have such beautiful eyes.

11/17

[pinnaculum]

Hello.

[Sephiroth gazes upon his other self with no evident emotion, polite but distant. He wonders if those people would do the same to him if they knew the truth. It's clear he cannot tell them. He will be careful.]

[neverbeamemory]

[It's quite early on in the next day that Sephiroth hears the smaller variant of his own voice from the other side of the force field. He can't feel the presence of his doppelganger on account of his powers being annulled inside of the cell but this only makes him more likely to appreciate the similarities between them.

It's quite likely he'd have held the exact same expression if the roles were reversed.]

Hello.

[He mirrors, stood up in the middle of the cell, though doesn't approach the force field yet.]

[pinnaculum]

I understand. This is what they would do to me if they were aware of my nature. They cannot be trusted.

It would be unwise for me to release you at this juncture. I wish to retain their confidence for now.

Floor 43, 11-19

[oathshackledbird]

[It might be surprising to some how well a sky blue iridescent cloak can blend into the shadows, but this one had been made to help its wearer fade from view even with its special abilities nullified. Diarmuid is counting on this ability as he stands back against the wall opposite the cell Sephiroth is currently trapped in. With the puppy ears and tail he got a few days ago hidden by the cloak, Diarmuid is better able to steel himself for this confrontation--one he had almost put off because of his mishap with Reno on the Fairy Ring floor. After all, the last thing he wants to do is show weakness to Sephiroth. Even locked up and stripped of his powers, the man is dangerous and Diarmuid is no fool. He knows that the silver-haired man will eventually be free again. Weakness is not something he can afford to show Sephiroth.

He has to know, though. Was it worth it? Had all the pain and death, the blood and humiliation, had any impact on Sephiroth? Whatever others may think, the last thing Diarmuid had wanted from this was just to see Sephiroth dead. That was never his goal. He wants the man changed. He wants the man repentant.

Death is no part of that.

But he is conflicted. He is afraid. Where do they go from here if the fight had no effect? How else do they stop him and protect everyone in the Tower?

These questions and his own fear are what keep him from approaching Sephiroth's cell. And so he lingers, instead, a slightly lighter spot in the shadows and just watches as if somehow that might give him the answers he seeks.]

[neverbeamemory]

[Sephiroth has been crunched up on the floor, with his knees up close to his chest, against the wall of his cell for several hours of solitude already. He moves sometimes to slowly stretch out one leg after the other, and sometimes uses the wall to lever himself back up to his feet when he feels the next wave of another nap tempting at his senses. Each creak of his knees, pop of his back from being sat so still for so long helps to bring him back around in no time.

He's dehydrated and half starving, he knows this. Another nap might well be his last. It's likely only down to his athletic physique that he hasn't already expired again. Would they be waiting at his Dormitory again? Sephiroth really doesn't want to know. The silence alone is starting to envelope him, his thoughts are the quietest they've been in a while - nothing to do but to wait for the end

Forcing himself to his feet in such an instance, Sephiroth tries to temper his breathing from heaving too much as he peers out through the force field. Wondering if perhaps he's finally starting to see mirages. Seeing nothing he draws arms up over his middle again and leans against the wall, stretching out his legs to ensure they aren't seizing up yet. His gaze lost in some unseen point on the floor.]

[oathshackledbird]

[It's an odd duality. Part of Diarmuid is pleased to see Sephiroth weakened, helpless, perhaps even dying from lack of food and drink. Then, there is the part of him that actually feels bad for the man. The part of him that doesn't like seeing anyone suffer. Not even someone who has wronged him and his as much as Sephiroth has.

Diarmuid frowns. Weakness. That is what Sephiroth would name that part of him. The silver-haired man would laugh and mock him for those feelings and that is the very kind of thing he cannot afford right now. For a moment, Diarmuid closes his eyes, pushing away the kind and gentle part of his nature and then he steps toward the cell. His first step is a little tentative, but those after are filled with confidence, and he doesn't stop until he is only a few steps away from the cell.]

I bet the world looks a little different from in there, doesn't it?