towerofanimus | Angels Fall [Closed/Open]

Entry tags:

Angels Fall [Closed/Open]

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

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[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?

[His suffering is rather two-fold, all things considered. Having quickly discovered, upon his arrival over a year ago, that Sephiroth has no real need for food and drink on account of the self-preservative nature of his powers - he is a rare sight in the Cafeteria indeed. Only coming down to the 1st floor specifically for a glass of water, a juice perhaps if it were available, after a workout. As such, to have his powers annulled for such an extended period - the pains, lethargy and downright weakness he feels now as a result only compounds the insult that he's reduced to the peak of human ability, rather than his deserved near-God like status.

Sephiroth looks again through the force field keeping him contained and, much to his internal disgust, double-takes involuntarily as it seems a shadow from across the hallway steps confidently into view. On account of the blue cloak, and how Diarmuid hides within it, along with his fatigued senses, Sephiroth is unable to determine who this visitor is right away.]

You- [His chest with a breath.] -would be surprised.

[He tries, stubbornly still to keep his well-maintained aloof manner but it certainly comes across as significantly less of such. More pathetic than powerful.]

[That small part of him that is still the noble knight and feels bad for all suffering things, scolds Diarmuid for the smirk that curls the corner of his mouth, but the scolding is lost in the glee that the more human part of his feels at seeing Sephiroth brought down so low.]

So far the 'god' falls. I suppose my question is an unfair one. How can I expect you to be able to see the world clearly when you cannot even tell who I am?

[Diarmuid pulls the cloak's hood back somewhat, not far enough his puppy ears are visible, but enough that his face will be, the hood actually balanced upon his newly gained ears.]

Does this help any? Or do you need even more assistance at this point, god?

[No matter how he tries. His leaning against the wall and occasional stretching out of his legs is turning more and more into a slump as the seconds tick past. Sephiroth is losing his balance quickly as the world swings heavily around him. He forces acid-like saliva down an already cracked raw throat and huffs out the latest toxic breath of air. Still forcing with all of his willpower to remain stood up.

He had retreated into looking at a random point on the floor once more but his dazed eyes slowly turn back to Diarmuid. Picking out distinctive features in the other mans face-]

Hmph. [So-] I see-

[He seems to forget the words he was going to say for a moment-]

Come to admire your handiwork-

[That last part is breathed out in a whisper, deep rumbling vocal chords having failed.]

To be perfectly honest, no.

[Diarmuid steps back away from the cell, eyes again taking in just how very weak the other man is before continuing.]

Sit down before you fall. That would be humiliating, wouldn't it? To show just how weak you are to me?

[He waves his hand dismissively, stirring the hood on his head slightly. Diarmuid doesn't really expect the other man to listen, but he has done his best. To be honest, he doesn't really want to see the man collapse. It would be, as he had said, humiliating.]

Whether you believe me or not, it was not my idea to place you in here. If you blame anyone, blame yourself for angering my family and friends so much that they decided to take this action against you.

[Sit down and spare himself the humiliation when he was already brought as low as this? Sit down and submit to the suggestion of his enemy? Sephiroth knows that it's obvious already how weak he is. It had been easier to hide yesterday but it's as if he can feel his mind cracking under his own suffering.

He continues to lean against the wall stubbornly, lowering a hand from around his middle to press against the wall for added support.]

And bring myself even further below you. Not a chance. [He spat the words through the force field at Diarmuid, despite how uncomfortable it was to form them. He has willpower, no one can deny that.]

Feels good, doesn't it?

[Have a very fleeting smirk, Diarmuid.]

[Diarmuid shrugs, seemingly not phased by Sephiroth's words or tone of voice. He's not surprised the other man refused. He is stubborn. Stubborn in all the wrong ways.]

Fine. Do as you will. If you wish to foolishly waste the little energy you have left, that is your choice.

[He pauses, then, brow furrowing in confusion.]

What are you talking about? Have you already lost your mind? What exactly am I suppose to be enjoying? Not everyone enjoys reveling in the suffering of others. I certainly do not! Not even if that person deserves it for what they have done to others.

Then why are you here, if not to take some satisfaction away from it?

[He coughs, once, dryly. It tickles at his throat and threatens to erupt in more coughing but sternly Sephiroth swallows it back with a shudder from the cold.]

You enjoy a victory as much as I do.

[Hmph.]

Propped up as it is on your morality.

[For a moment, a conflicted look crosses Diarmuid's face. It's honestly a good question, but to admit that much would be to show a weakness to Sephiroth. He's quiet for several moments before finally speaking.]

I suppose I am curious. About many things.

[Did you learn anything? Was I wrong? Did I do the right thing? Should there have been another way? Of course, he doesn't voice any of these questions to the silver-haired man. Instead, Diarmuid pushes the conflicted look from his face, his expression becoming neutral once again.]

All warriors respect victory. We would not be fighting if we didn't wish for whatever it is victory brings. However, that doesn't always mean that we enjoy what we must do to get to victory. Sometimes...sometimes the price is very great.

[He's looking at Diarmuid all the time, though he's really not focused. His attention flickers from the other mans eyes, to the floor, his feet and back up at intervals. He noted the conflicted look but didn't register it's resetting into neutrality.]

So what did you hope to achieve? Some reward for this great price that really has no value at all.

[He still manages to sound condescending, despite his wretched weak position against the wall.]

Somehow, I doubt you would understand.

[How exactly does Diarmuid explain to a person like Sephiroth that he had hoped to make the silver-haired man realize that he is just like them? That he can't just do what he wants and expect no one to fight back? That the value of their bonds are just as important as any plan he might have?

The answer is, he can't. Why hadn't he realized this before? Had his optimism really blinded him so much?

Diarmuid sighs, and unthinkingly reaches up to run a hand through his hair, knocking the cape's hood back and relieving his puppy ears. He doesn't seem to realize what he's done, though, as focused as he is on Sephiroth.]

My quest will never be more than a fool's errand in your eyes. No matter what I say, I expect you will mock me for being weak. That is not something I care to waste time hearing right now.

You might be surprised what I do understand.

[There seems to be something off about how Diarmuid looks as that hood is knocked back but either Sephiroth doesn't really see the puppy ears or couldn't care less. He narrows eyes at Diarmuid's profile but looks away shortly after wards, he returns both of his arms around his middle as another hunger spasm starts to wrack his frame, this time sliding down the wall back into a seated position.]

It's a question of accepting the truth-

[Diarmuid finds himself involuntarily moving toward the cell when he sees that pain. However, as soon as he realizes what he's doing, he checks his motion, frowning hard.

Why does he keep feeling waves of pity for Sephiroth's suffering when that is the last thing the silver-haired man would feel for anyone else?]

I expect that your idea of truth and my own are vastly different things. But out of curiosity, what is this truth you think that I should be accepting?

How can truth be so vastly different? You said it yourself that we're all stuck here under the same conditions.

[He took a deep, heavily wheezing breath after that expulsion of dialog. Anything above grunts and moans was starting to prove overly laborious. Sephiroth is succeeding in holding it together to some extent though, he cannot allow his enemy to take pity on him.]

The truth that no matter how much you dress it up, how much you justify your actions- [Another long drawn out breath, a bit of a cough following it as well.] -they are all selfish gestures, in the end.

And this is exactly why I said you would never understand.

[Diarmuid crosses his arms over his chest, causing the cloak to billow back. Were he in better shape, this probably would have given Sephiroth a view of Diarmuid's tail, but considering the silver-haired man's condition, he probably misses this change in Diarmuid too.]

Just because all of your actions are selfish in nature, doesn't mean that is true for everyone. I won't lie. Part of me did this because I wanted to see you suffer as you made Ryoji suffer. That is a selfish action. However, there was a bigger reason for what I did--one that is not selfish in nature--and I spoke of it right before the fight started. Right now, you think you can do whatever you want just because you can. That is unacceptable. Not only that, it puts the whole Tower at risk. This might not be the greatest place in the world, but it is all we have, and I won't let you take that away from us. Not like you did back on your world.

[He leans back toward the cell, and while his words are soft, there is no small bit of condescension in them.]

I realize you will never understand what it is like to help others, but it is the least selfish kind of action one can take. By default, it forces you to put others before yourself, right where they should be.

[Spare him the monologue Diarmuid, it's quite likely he can't really understand most of it and that's not even out of his own selfish nature. Sephiroth curls up towards the cell door some, his eyes on a single point not far from Diarmuid's feet. He did hear one thing though, which he will strain to answer-]

You know nothing of me or My World.

[Oh if he could talk more in depth back at the for-now taller Servant. He would take great pleasure in describing logically, coolly, how all of those things that Diarmuid put forward are the most selfish by default - glorification of the self, and the self's actions as the hero is the food to so many ego's. Saving others because it gratifies the ego. Then having the saved in a position of dependence beneath you as a result.

How Human, to justify one thing as something it is not, how disappointing for one clearly not of their race.

Instead Sephiroth coughs dryly against the wall, hating all.]

Just as you know nothing of me or mine. I judge you on your actions--past, present, and future. It is all I have.

[Diarmuid looks down at the man at his feet, listens to that weak cough. Why? Why even brought this low can Sephiroth not see he is the same as the rest of them? Why does he insist on placing himself on a different level than othe--

Golden eyes widen then, and his face pales. Diarmuid has always put himself on a different level than others. He's expected more from himself. Pushed himself harder. And lately, ignored...honor and pride for others and...

...for himself.

For just a second, fear passes over Diarmuid's face. At the same time, the fur on his ears and tail both bristle, though Diarmuid moves quickly--perhaps too quickly-to cover for them. He narrows his eyes and hisses at Sephiroth.]

I am not like you. I will never be like you!

[Though, who he is trying to convince of that is up in the air...]

[Under any other circumstance, Sephiroth not even looking in Diarmuid's direction might be interpreted as his automatic elevation of himself above the Servant. In this case however, it's becoming difficult for him to keep his vision focused on one point so the silver haired man doesn't even look up.

There is nothing wrong with his hearing, at least in that instant and he hears the hiss underneath Diarmuid's tone. Sephiroth turns his head against the wall and drags his gaze up the other mans frame to his face. He would look Diarmuid in the eyes right now. Subdued, almost tired, but still sizzling green.]

Sounds like I touched a nerve.

[There is something of a smirk there, however fleetingly. Despite his weakened, half-starving state Sephiroth still learns all there is to know about an enemy.]

[The smirk, no matter how brief, is enough to break through to Diarmuid. Silently, he curses himself for again letting Sephiroth goad him, before quickly forcing his face and emotions back into neutrality.]

Considering the fight we just had, I would say you have touched on more than one of my nerves.

[Cold, golden eyes meet Sephiroth's green ones unflinchingly.]

You are good at that. Finding gaps and prying them open. Taking words and twisting them. You do not lie, but then again, you don't need to.

[Diarmuid pauses a moment considering if he wishes to continue before choosing to. After all, just because he hates Sephiroth doesn't mean he can't respect how smart the man is. It's part of what makes him so very dangerous.]

You may be my enemy, but you are an intelligent one. Far too intelligent...

Literally.

[He comments dryly. He had nearly cleaved Diarmuid in two after all - there were a lot of nerves involved physically.

I speak the truths that no one wants to realize. He thought only in reply, maybe he should inform Diarmuid of that fact as well-

But wait

What was this? Diarmuid almost sounded as if he was complimenting him. If Sephiroth was comfortable in beaming up knowingly at the other man he would have done so without a second thought.]

I'm only your enemy because you cannot fathom me.

[Cough. Sephiroth swallows another dry lump. It's difficult to sound so pointed right now.]

[Diarmuid lets the 'literally' pass without comment. After all, he had made the mistake of letting his brother distract him. There was no one to blame for that wound but himself.

However, Sephiroth's second comment isn't allowed to pass so easily. Curiously enough, though, it is not anger the taunt draws to Diarmuid's face, but a smirk instead.]

There you go, giving yourself too much credit again. You are a man of many skills, yes, but you waste them. Their potential is dead in you. Does it ever anger you that you have wasted your skills in such a way? Your pride and arrogance have ruined any chance you had at reaching your full potential.

You wouldn't know potential if it slapped you in the-

[He did sneer then; it's amusing, he had given Diarmuid quite the slapping. It's fleeting though on account of his degrading condition. Sephiroth shudders a little against the wall but averts his gaze so that Diarmuid couldn't see anything in them that he might take further pity on. The whole inside of his face felt like it was drying up and cracking.

He does not continue exchanging with Diarmuid, not trusting that his voice would hold out. Won't the irritation go away now please.]

[Diarmuid doesn't let the taunt reach him. They are the words of a desperate man. The words of one who can fight no other way. Words usually have power, but these, these have none.]

Those memories...they are so tempting to slip back into, aren't they?

[He crouches down so his head is more on level with the hunched over man.]

You really are just like the rest of us. When reality is too harsh to handle, you run away to your memories and delusions to escape. They say it is so easy for heroes to fall. It seems fake gods fall just as easily.

Edited (Realized I grabbed the wrong icon!) 2013-12-05 09:47 (UTC)

[As soon as he's done talking, Sephiroth silently curses himself for even retorting. He's just feeding the man more of what he wants to try to break, rather than remaining safely aloof and untouched by it. Sephiroth needs to focus on staying alive even if the odds are stacking against him as the hours slip past.

Those memories...however fragmented and loose in places, are all that Sephiroth has. He pulled them all around in close to his core and held on tight. They gave him the tools to manifest for himself a physical form again for that short time just before he came to the Tower. Granting the Glamour system that which it needs from his soul to keep appearing as he does. Sephiroth's sense of identity is something he clings to with his fingernails dug in. Never to let go. Never to allow himself to degrade away into only memories others had of him - those left behind on Gaia. As a coping mechanism for the no-short of traumatizing events that have happened to him in the Tower since then.

He inclines his head just a fraction, resting most of it against the wall now, meeting with Diarmuid's gaze and then narrowing his own unfocused eyes; now noticing the ears he'd missed before, however fleetingly. He's not sure though, and after a comment like that it's not relevant to bring it up.]

You know nothing of it-

[His lethargic tone hitches at the end as the depth of his voice drops. It's deceptive in that Sephiroth cannot express currently how completely close to home that statement of Diarmuid's came, but perhaps the cracks are apparent. After all, if he had been in a better state of being he probably would have simply forced his walls up higher, blocked the Servant out stronger.]

-one day...I may have to show you.

Oh, I think I do know and that, fake god, is why you are so scared.

[Sephiroth's mistake is not so much in his words, but the fact that he chooses to meet Diarmuid's gaze. Perhaps it is only because Diarmuid wants so badly to see something, or perhaps it is a fraction of a second slip by Sephiroth in his weakened state, but the Servant swears he sees the cracks there.

One of those raw nerves that Sephiroth had mentioned before.]

I see what you are trying to hide. More than that, I know it well enough to understand what you are doing, and if I can see and I can understand something so close to you, you know what that means.

It means you're just as human as I am.

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neverbeamemory - 2013-12-09 12:55 (UTC) - Expand

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oathshackledbird - 2013-12-10 04:05 (UTC) - Expand

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