I was left to my own devices; many days fell away with nothing to show

[provenworth]

Characters: Elena and YOU
Setting: February 7th – Various Locations [See Prompts]
Format: Action but will match yours
Summary: Elena is running a few errands and meeting up with Dia to discuss a sensitive situation.
Warning: Possible language, who knows?

[Floor 19 | Research Library | Early morning]

[Despite the few bits and pieces of information that Elena has been able to understand and align to their current situation, she’s not been making much progress with the books she’s been working her way through. It was frustrating, the technical details of each of the books extensive and surpassing her own levels of education and training. But, despite the long hours reading and attempting to find something that could be utilized to better their situation, she wasn’t even close to giving up.

Down in the research library, Elena has started a new collection of various books, building a small pile at the end of an empty table. Standing between a pair of bookshelves, she’s holding one massively large book in her arms, head downturned to read through the finely printed text. The only sound that comes from where she’s standing is the shifting of paper as each page is slowly turned.]


[Floor 22 | Art Gallery | Closed to Diarmuid | Noon]

[It wasn’t easy finding Diarmuid’s room, taking her nearly half an hour scouring the numerous levels until she finally found it. The folded note she’d written him was tucked beneath the door for him to find later, the instructions easy enough to understand.

Dia, Need to talk to you. 22nd Floor @ noon - Elena

[And so, after completing her quick stop to the research library, Elena makes her way to the art gallery. It’d been some time since she’s been there, chased out by horrifying paintings of Gaia and Northern Cavern. So she’s not going too far into the gallery, instead staying close to the doorway in case she’d in need of a hasty retreat.]


[Floor 14 | Media Room | Dusk]

[Music can be heard coming from this floor, various melodies can be hear, the volume low to sooth the figure inside listening to it. Seated quietly in a chair to herself is Elena, her left hand resting in her lap and her right upright, elbow on the arm of her chair. Fingers curl into a loose fist and support her chin as she listens, looking almost as if she were asleep. Be careful in your approach, though, Elena is very much awake and beneath her recently acquired leather coat - carefully crafted by a particular red-head - is her firearm.]

Comments

[neverbeamemory]

[Unfounded safety it might be, considering his penchant for telekinesis. Sephiroth looks up from his own book only when the thick book Elena was handling on the other side crashes to the floor. He really should just ignore it, she's probably just done that to get his attention. As much as he might deny it later - it works.

What follows is quite possibly the longest dialog he's ever allowed for her to spew at him. She's wrong, so very wrong at points in her assumptions that it's almost painful. True enough he had forged an alliance with Ganondorf but it had been on strictly cooperative terms, and they had both a silent knowledge that the possibility of betrayal from either side was a permanent one. Sephiroth had always been most careful not to allow himself to be manipulated by the Troll King, and the collar fluid research to which she referred had been all his own doing. For reasons he wasn't about to share to anyone; it suited him fine to be seen as something entirely selfless when compared to the man he really is.

And lets bear in mind as well, the words on the network had meant to discourage her. Any relevance whatsoever to the concerns, and fears that Sephiroth really harbored would be a no mans land indeed; in fact, better to remain an enigma that no one can even fathom.]

I've no idea what you're talking about.

[He then takes a breath and snaps his own book shut. Raising eyes to the bookshelf and the glimpses of the Turk he can see through the gaps.]

You presume to know that which you will never comprehend. Don't insult me with these misgivings that some part of you wishes were true.

Oh geez, this is awful I'm sorry

[provenworth]

['I have no idea what you're talking about'. Of all the responses he could have given, this is probably one of the most...juvenile ones she would have never imagines coming from his mouth. In fact, she found herself pausing for several seconds before giggling under her breath.]

For a man of many ideas, I doubt that's the case. I've not hit the nail on the head, I know. But the question is how close did the hammer get?

[The newly acquired book is reviewed, weight shifting from one foot to another in some sort of 'reading dance' before she pivots 90 degrees to face the table. Fingers turn another page, reading over before her head lifts, eyes turning in his direction.]

What makes you think I have any particular wish that any of those alleged misgivings be true? I wouldn't wish such painful solidarity to even my worst of enemies. Especially here.

This thread is the definition of awful what are you talking about. :D

[neverbeamemory]

[Not juvenile. Deflective. Or an attempt at. But she's free to interpret him however she likes.

Eyebrows pull together in the middle at the giggle that he -too easily- could hear under her breath. Perhaps the Turk was forgetting that he seldom wanders the Tower without some sort of extended perception switched on, it's most useful in this type of conversation where he can't see all of her face to read it.

Glinting eyes do not leave her form even as Elena moves back towards the table. Sephiroth himself doesn't move at all, will not give her the satisfaction of drawing him out.]

You have the nail inverted.

[He would let her figure out that metaphor on her own, Sephiroth certainly isn't prepared to put it any clearer. Not to Elena, not to anyone.]

And my solidarity has suited me just fine. I suspect it will continue to do so as well, regardless of our fates.

[He has never been part of any 'group' - now matter how the gossips might paint him otherwise. He lent assistance only to Ganondorf's cause, but it terminated there. Not that it matters anymore.]

[provenworth]

[While she would never actually admit to it, trying to figure out the solitary swordsman was starting to become rather interesting. Entertaining at times, especially when she knew that he was as attentive to what she was doing as she was attentive to what he was doing.

Every little move, every noise, was meant to try and earn some sort of response or reaction - or even none at all. Each conversation gave her more to work with in trying to interpret his motives and mind during times when there was little else to do.]

Wouldn't be the first time.

[Turnabout is fair play and she'll let him ponder on that statement as well. Feet carried her over to the table where she added her book to the stack. With her back turned to him, she's going through her stack, laying out the books into a tight square to review titles and flip through pages, looking to see which supported the other or had correlating data.]

Perhaps. Though in a slowly crumpling cage, you may eventually find yourself in a position where you'll need alliances. Or at least somebody who won't stick a knife in your back when you don't expect it.

[neverbeamemory]

[The fact is, thanks in no small part to a game of Ruana's, Elena has had much more of a headstart on the road to figuring out Sephiroth than he would have allowed anyone to have normally. He dislikes this, and is very aware of the extent to which it might develop into a weapon that she could then use against him.

There are reasons why he avoids her, and he thought he'd made it clear for her to avoid him when she had returned to the Tower. Though, uncomfortable as it is, perhaps it was better to at least try bury this hatchet here and now - and let them both get on with what they had left of their existences. However much Sephiroth doubts that the countdown would be the end of him.]

A crumpling cage only makes said cage easier to break out from, in fact instinct demands the need for escape - in order to survive. The Tower is weakened and I will find a way.

[He's taken a step closer to the end of the aisle and Elena but only so she could hear his voice which he's lowered considerably. There is a great deal of sarcastic, charged accusation in his next comment towards her.]

And would you name someone who could fit that profile for me? You whom claims to understand me that much?

[provenworth]

True. The bars are worn and bent from their slow decay. [A page is turned, hands flat against the table, her head turning to another book.] But if you're not careful, those bars that are more easily broken might turn on you and become unexpected blades that can pierce through you.

[As was always the case whenever you trapped an animal in a cage. Be it a bird or dog, if you let the cage rot the bars could be bent and chewed, abused until freedom was within reach. But unless the creature was careful, they could easily get hurt during the process. Killed if they didn't get the bars right in their dash for escape.

Elena makes an audible huff, shutting one of the four books on the table and pushing it to the side, dismissed. His question earns a pause, her back straightening as she turns just slightly to look back at him. There's a hint of a smirk, knowing and amused.]

That wouldn't be my call, now would it? I'm merely offering an alternative idea for our current predicament. What you choose to do is entirely up to you.

[neverbeamemory]

Don't turn me into a mindless predator, I'm far more intelligent than to fall onto those broken pieces, however they might graze.

[There, he makes the jump from assumed to verbalized metaphor before she does. Sephiroth finds it very jarring to be referred to as such a mindless animal. Perhaps the Turk has forgotten, in her time here, just whom she is addressing in such a manner. He would not be making any such leap of faith without gaging the risks to their fullest, first.

In answer to her last, Sephiroth curls his hand around the spine of the book he's picked out and folds both arms up and over his chest. He raises an eyebrow for a moment at Elena and then shakes his had, releasing his posture completely and moving out of the aisle and passed her - around to the other side of the table in fact.]

Because you know that, really, no one can really be trusted. The entire countdown has been the result of misplaced trust, point of fact.

[provenworth]

I wouldn't dare make that connection, though I don't you're hearing me correctly. It isn't that you aren't intelligent enough to avoid them, because we both know you're far more calculating than that.

No, my concern lies in the fact that those who built the cage are still here, can bend the bars as their will and strike you with them when you aren't looking.

[Because he has probably the best chance in the Tower to find that freedom given the amount of power he had, even as a walking piece of plastic and reel. She gives no secondary thought how words may sound, instead sticking to facts.

Her head turns back, looking down at the books, all but ignoring him as he walked past her to stand opposite of her. Using the table perhaps the same way she'd been using the bookshelf - as a protective barrier. A physical separation of their space.]

Trust is purely subjective and could be defined by various levels depending on the individual. But there has to be some level of trust, otherwise we'd be constantly at each other's throats. [Her back straightens just so, hands remaining flat on the table, eyes upturned to look at him.] The most important type of trust that can be found here is the trust that we won't totally turn on each other, even when we're at our worst.

[neverbeamemory]

Hmph.

[Sephiroth didn't think that this would be the case. When he was ready to leave, he doubts anyone would be able to stop him. He walked around the table away from her some more before rounding back towards her on the back of her last comment. He approached as close to the table as he could get to her and slammed his book down before spitting words across at her.]

So easily you lose your identity, so quickly throw yourself in as a resident of the Tower of Animus. All 'we' and 'us'-

[There was something in that last statement that snapped his patience. Suddenly, he'd just about had enough of this charade. Elena had easily angered him but she always has known just what buttons to push with him. Even before their little 'adventure' over a year ago, even however as a result he questions internally whether he'd even be able to raise a hand to strike at her.

Perhaps it was just evidence enough of how cracked his sanity was becoming from being kept here indefinitely.]

Have you completely lost all sense? Knowing what you undoubtedly know of life energy from My World, yet you would so easily make yourself part of others! You're playing right into their intentions!

I trust NO ONE! And everyone will indeed be at each other's throats before this game is over.

[Then Sephiroth recollected his thoughts sternly, turned and strode away, scowling at himself for being so transparent with his supervisor so close by. He took his book with him back towards the staircase; unless stopped or otherwise encouraged to stay - it's clear he didn't want to talk to her any more.]

[provenworth]

[The information spread out before her is irrelevant at the moment, forgotten in the heat of conversation. Because there was something interesting in the way he was speaking, where his mind was taking him - had been taken? - during his prolonged tenure in the Tower.

And for a moment Elena is ready to return to her research, what with Sephiroth turning his back and leaving her to her work. That is, until he's back, all thunder and noise and what she could only assume was anger. And lost patience. Which was surprisingly new, given her interactions with him. Sure, she goaded him at times but this had not been one of them. And to see him so...uncharacteristically upset.]

Identity is only lost when the newly added group or society truly dominates the self. Unlike you, I have accepted the concept of the Tower as being the place where the new society exists, adapting to the boundaries and behaviors of it while retaining true to myself.

But you... [Struggle. Fight against it with every fibre of his being. Even at the risk of his own sense of self and sanity.] You haven't. For whatever belief you have, you've not. And look at you.

[The last sentence is more muttered than spoken, void of any sort of condescension that it might have deserved. If anything, there might have been a ghost of concern hinted in those words. That the Tower's greatest asset was starting to crack and there were few - two people really, including herself - who might have even entertained the idea of actually helping him.

She doesn't interrupt him any further, instead listening to every word. Absorbing the message, memorizing it for later analysis. Its only after he's turned and walked off, halfway between her and the door that she speaks, hands lifting one of the books off the table.]

Its only a matter of time before your words ring true, Sephiroth. That is the nature of this place But Odin knows that one day you might actually need the help that you've turned away. You may want to start thinking about what you'll do then when you find yourself truly alone.

[Whether it was to put the final close to conversation so he could leave or to give her a chance to go and think, Elena turns her attention to the book in her arms. Turning a page as she heads back to the aisle, she's 90% sure this book was going to have to go back on the shelf.]

[neverbeamemory]

[That ghost of a concern that he could all but feel only intensified his rage as he cracked just enough to lose resolve and shout at her over the table for the rest of it. Talk about feeding the fire.

He strode away, each measured footfall putting himself at more than a distance physically from Elena. He was retreating back into the only existence he has ever known, that he has always been alone and for forever be that way. She was wrong, so very wrong, and this might as well be another game to test at his identity.

He could not conform.
Doing so would be to forsake everything that he had left.

The line between reality in the Tower and games being played was starting to thin between them dangerously.

At the doorway back onto the stairwell he turned to glance back over his shoulder. He held his unblinking gaze on Elena for longer than could have been comfortable, as if to process her final words to him. Only when she moved out of eyesight did he shake his head sternly and finally leave.]