neverbeamemory (
neverbeamemory) wrote in
towerofanimus2014-03-10 08:14 pm
Log 030 | Tower of Jenova Phase #1
Characters: [OPEN TO ALL] Sephiroth via Tower of Jenova Phase #1
Setting: 10-22nd March, Starting in the Dormitory Levels, spreading around the Tower via those Infected
Format: Prose and/or Action, Mingle-style. Please put date and/or relevant locations in the subjects!
Summary: Sephiroth releases his will and manages to envelop the Dormitory Levels of the Tower, Side effects commence shortly after in certain individuals. Meanwhile, he begins to siphon energy into his very core. Feel free to use this post for plotting.
Warnings: Sickness, mutations, copious amounts of Geostigmatic black goop and generally bad feels including but not limited to homicide, suicide, hallucinations. Eventually.
It was now or never.
The Tower had ripped his soul, the very core of his being from it's rightful place and bound it indefinitely in wire frames and nano film. Since he had awoken here all those cycles ago, the proverbial dagger had been stabbed, twisted and turned in defiance of his self-control, in spite of his indomitable will, again and again. This was not his Destiny; to be played with as such a literal child's-toy with no regard whatsoever for his divine birthright. He had worked tirelessly since then, one way or another, to gain for himself the means by which he could flip this game in his favor. The boycott, the fluid research, the countless infiltration attempts and new vessels he had gone through - all culminated to this point.
His real powers were unlocked, and with them the game changing realization that whatever he could put his mind to in this new Realm wouldn't be as simple as all that. In the absence of even an atom of his particular, real genetic makeup Sephiroth discovered quickly that he could only ever cultivate his power -his will- to a certain point before, by the constraints of the Tower it would not go any further.
And so it had turned full circle, right back to the sore fact that there had only ever been one, real resolution.
Sephiroth needed out.
It was sometime late afternoon on 10th March, when Sephiroth decided to settle in his Dormitory to make that final, brutal push against his cage. Within only a few moments of well-practiced, meditative charged silence sat atop his bed Sephiroth's consciousness was released further into his core than he had ever let it sink before. His will only had one intent; to wrap around all of his power at once and expand it outwards away from him in one almighty push. There were a few attempts that rippled through the very fabric of his core as he teased more of this force against the barriers that had kept it contained for so long.
A sharp breath was taken and Sephiroth threw all of his consciousness into exuding itself through the bars, all in one go. His large black wing burst itself violently out of his right shoulder, but it didn't stop there. At it's fullest extension the black monstrosity shimmered before collapsing it's form smoothly into thick, inky black, shadowy tendrils which sped out from Sephiroth's form in every direction. They quickly wrapped themselves around everything in Sephiroth's direct vicinity and then -as he opened livid, glowing eyes to the room- sped away from him. Enveloping doorways, hallways, rooms and stairwells like a vast tidal wave of black ink.
The Dormitory levels were enveloped with this blackness within a matter of minutes and then quickly faded up, into the very fabric of the Tower. A held breath was broken as Sephiroth swooned heavily with his own energy release, a severe backlash of lethargy would see him disoriented for a while at least.
But it was worth it, he could feel it. This extension of himself around these floors of the Tower.
It pulsed with promise.
Setting: 10-22nd March, Starting in the Dormitory Levels, spreading around the Tower via those Infected
Format: Prose and/or Action, Mingle-style. Please put date and/or relevant locations in the subjects!
Summary: Sephiroth releases his will and manages to envelop the Dormitory Levels of the Tower, Side effects commence shortly after in certain individuals. Meanwhile, he begins to siphon energy into his very core. Feel free to use this post for plotting.
Warnings: Sickness, mutations, copious amounts of Geostigmatic black goop and generally bad feels including but not limited to homicide, suicide, hallucinations. Eventually.
It was now or never.
The Tower had ripped his soul, the very core of his being from it's rightful place and bound it indefinitely in wire frames and nano film. Since he had awoken here all those cycles ago, the proverbial dagger had been stabbed, twisted and turned in defiance of his self-control, in spite of his indomitable will, again and again. This was not his Destiny; to be played with as such a literal child's-toy with no regard whatsoever for his divine birthright. He had worked tirelessly since then, one way or another, to gain for himself the means by which he could flip this game in his favor. The boycott, the fluid research, the countless infiltration attempts and new vessels he had gone through - all culminated to this point.
His real powers were unlocked, and with them the game changing realization that whatever he could put his mind to in this new Realm wouldn't be as simple as all that. In the absence of even an atom of his particular, real genetic makeup Sephiroth discovered quickly that he could only ever cultivate his power -his will- to a certain point before, by the constraints of the Tower it would not go any further.
And so it had turned full circle, right back to the sore fact that there had only ever been one, real resolution.
Sephiroth needed out.
It was sometime late afternoon on 10th March, when Sephiroth decided to settle in his Dormitory to make that final, brutal push against his cage. Within only a few moments of well-practiced, meditative charged silence sat atop his bed Sephiroth's consciousness was released further into his core than he had ever let it sink before. His will only had one intent; to wrap around all of his power at once and expand it outwards away from him in one almighty push. There were a few attempts that rippled through the very fabric of his core as he teased more of this force against the barriers that had kept it contained for so long.
A sharp breath was taken and Sephiroth threw all of his consciousness into exuding itself through the bars, all in one go. His large black wing burst itself violently out of his right shoulder, but it didn't stop there. At it's fullest extension the black monstrosity shimmered before collapsing it's form smoothly into thick, inky black, shadowy tendrils which sped out from Sephiroth's form in every direction. They quickly wrapped themselves around everything in Sephiroth's direct vicinity and then -as he opened livid, glowing eyes to the room- sped away from him. Enveloping doorways, hallways, rooms and stairwells like a vast tidal wave of black ink.
The Dormitory levels were enveloped with this blackness within a matter of minutes and then quickly faded up, into the very fabric of the Tower. A held breath was broken as Sephiroth swooned heavily with his own energy release, a severe backlash of lethargy would see him disoriented for a while at least.
But it was worth it, he could feel it. This extension of himself around these floors of the Tower.
It pulsed with promise.

no subject
Still, she doesn't intend to stop fighting - too much of those negative emotions are in play for her to do otherwise.
To her credit, Yukiko doesn't scream as her own magic flows through her body. It's painful, leaving a few deep burns inside her flesh, but she was expecting it. That arm's not going to be any use for quite a while.
She feels the yank at her power, more than enough to speed Sephiroth's already fast rate of healing. That's enough to turn her stomach just a bit; it's just another level of manipulation. That's only made worse when she feels the second pull at her spirit.
Yukiko wants to say something, wants to get up and slash with her good arm, but her body won't move. She only watches, eyes flickering green in the fireballs' light as they connect, gritting her teeth and clenching a fist - one scream is all she wants to allow. No more than that, though part of her says that's useless.
no subject
The fireballs were connected one by one, one after another into Yukiko's forced-still frame. It burned clothing, seared more layers of delicate skin than it would have done if she had normal human skin still and warmed to a agonizing level the rose vine that wound itself all around her.
"That'll do."
If he did much more, she might die accidentally and Sephiroth needed her death to mean so much more. He watched how Yukiko's skin smoldered before letting go her physically, letting her slump to the floor. Masamune was summoned once more, though he might have to resort to another tactic if the flower-girl of his making thought still push her attack.
no subject
There's a distinctly frustrated note mixed in with the pain of that second scream. It's frustration at being reduced to such a weak state, frustration that she's letting the pain get to her, frustration at not being able to do more. You're not ever strong enough on your own, she thinks. You always need someone. Won't you ever learn?
Yukiko slumps back against the window, breathing ragged. She tries to push herself back to her feet once before falling again, cursing once under her breath. She closes her eyes for just a moment, focusing her remaining energy.
It's not quite enough. She tries to cast again, but her injuries have her too weak to do even that.
"...let me die."
The words slip out entirely unbidden. Yukiko curses herself for doing anything that even remotely resembles begging, but the words have been said, their damage done.
no subject
Sephiroth watched her, with all the grace of one that might watch a crippled insect, as she found her feet and fell. As she cursed and tried to conjure more energy that simply wasn't there on account of the severe burns that Sephiroth had left her with. Indeed, they would make the remaining time that Sephiroth allowed Yukiko to suffer, the most miserable of her life.
"Not yet. But soon."
And then he would smile, as if she had served him a great purpose, before backing away from her position in the corner by the window and leaving via the stairwell. Yukiko would be left to fend for herself; in her damaged state. It would be a shame if she were to die there, but maybe that would be a lesson to her - that all of those friendships she treasured, meant nothing after all.
But he would not let her die. Sephiroth reserved a small part of his almighty will to keep Yukiko alive despite all of her suffering; he needed her energy still.
no subject
It's only then that she allows herself to fall onto her side, facing the windows and staring out at the clouds. She looks back over her shoulder occasionally, half-hoping that 'soon' means 'I'm going to kill you the moment you lose consciousness', but that doesn't happen. Neither happens - she doesn't lose consciousness and he doesn't come back.
It's only then she's absolutely sure she's alone that she lets the first tears fall. It's not that she's decided other people mean nothing; it's that she feels like she herself is the failure.
"How do you even manage to screw up dying?", she asks herself, forcing herself to focus on her reflection. There's no answer back, only strange green eyes filled with tears staring back at her.
She's not sure whether it's death or merely unconsciousness when the physical pain finally becomes too much to handle and the blackness rushes up to meet her. Either way, she won't move from that spot for some time.
[ooc: And the music to accompany this tag: Here. Worth a listen.]