005 ☄ the sky is low, the clouds are mean

[nohometown]

It's quiet and cold, and there's snow on the ground, blanketing bare, blackened earth that nonetheless shows through here and there: soil where nothing grows, not even in winter. In the distance, a city looms darkly: vast and industrial, walled and tiered and towered; its lights beneath the gray sky shine like pinprick eyes of red, green, and gold, some blinking and some unblinking.

There are few moving shapes on the barren terrain stretching away from the great city. Here and there an animal, or monster, stirs, raises its head, but it's an empty place overall, as there is little here to sustain either predators or prey. At first, there don't seem to be any humans present in this desolate area, but there is one. It's difficult to see him at first because he's small and pale, his silver hair and gray clothes difficult to pick out against the snowy backdrop. Yet he is there, moving from place to place with an almost unnerving quickness, in a direction definitively away from the city, carrying supplies on his back, and with a small sword at his side.

He's only a child, but he's alone out here.


[[ooc: another gratuitous child Sephiroth post. He's considering leaving his current employ with the Shinra Company, and so he's dreaming of himself leaving Shinra as a child. Replies will come from pinnaculum.]]

Comments

tinyroth is amazing. never stop.

[waterfell]

She's taller, and the blue stands out against the snow-washed landscape. This is Mercury.

Her head turns as she thinks she spots movement - who? For that matter, where? She's disoriented. It's becoming a familiar feeling, when her dreams take her so many unknown places. Then the spots the runner, and she even knows him.

"Sephiroth!" The voice is stern. He won't last ten minutes alone.

Why should that concern her?

aw, thank you ♥

[pinnaculum]

Though he's moving quickly, he pauses and turns when he hears his name.

She's familiar to him, and she's not affiliated with Shinra as far as he knows, so he comes to a complete halt, regarding her curiously. He glances back toward the city, anxiously, but there's no sign of any pursuit. "Hello. What are you doing here?"

[waterfell]

Her sword is held loose at her side; no threat to Sephiroth, but present. She gives a minute shake of her head.

"Just what were you planning?" She trades question for question. That he's running is obvious.

[pinnaculum]

His own sword remains sheathed as well. He doesn't expect she will attack, though he doesn't drop his guard.

He hesitates, not sure if he wants to share his plan with her or with anyone, but he does answer. "I'm traveling." Though it is a slightly evasive answer.

[waterfell]

"Secretly," she observes like a quip. "So, want to tell me the rest? Or should we turn around and head back?"

Information for permission. Or something like that.

[pinnaculum]

"Yes. I would not be allowed to go, otherwise. I am not permitted to leave the laboratory on my own."

He shakes his head. "I will not go back." A simple statement, with a trace of stubbornness in it.

[waterfell]

She understands. She goes back, time and again, because there are reasons to prefer the place she's wanted, acknowledged, considered.

But she runs to the lake so many times, or even to the human world.

"If not back, where will you go?" It's the most reasonable of questions - and often the most difficult.

Sephiroth, what what what are you doing?!

[plotdeviceturk]

A turk's vehicle never roars, unless it's stolen (or a motorcycle), and when the notice had gone out about Sephiroth's... disappearance from the lab the suited division had been mobilized. Tseng had simply gotten lucky and been the one sent out in this direction in a nondescript black van.

The engine hummed as he leaned against the side of it, watching the tiny figure move in his general direction. Sephiroth could run, but Tseng had the advantage of wheels and ShinRa's finest mechanics.

Tseng, are you Sephiroth's sassy gay friend?

[pinnaculum]

Tseng may have had the advantage of wheels, but Sephiroth had the advantage of being ShinRa's greatest weapon.

When he caught sight of the van, he suddenly disappeared, reappearing almost instantly on the other side of the van and then moving away from it rapidly, traveling in teleport-jumps as well as leaps and bounds, capable of brief bursts of almost-flight.

He didn't attack the vehicle, yet.

Only because Genesis isn't here?

[plotdeviceturk]

Tseng was behind the wheel with a smooth motion, the van hurtling after Sephiroth across the frozen terrain. He didn't care if the van was wrecked or began falling apart so long as he intercepted the young escapee.

Not to drag him back necessarily, but if the kid didn't have a very good plan of action and a direction... it may be the safer choice.

Genesis gave him TERRIBLE advice. :C

[pinnaculum]

Still moving forward, Sephiroth drew his sword. Then he turned back briefly, only to leap up, hanging in midair for a long moment. In that moment, his sword began to glow pale blue, and he swung it, the motion sending a ribbon of energy shooting toward the van.

As its power would be capable of slicing Junon's cannon in two, a van would be easily destroyed, if struck.

Genesis is bitter.

[plotdeviceturk]

Tseng was no fool, swerving on the icy ground would have likely ended even worse than him simply bailing out of the vehilcle and rolling out of the way of the ribbon of energy.

"I'm not here to drag you back." He shouted, thankful for the empty landscape for once.

That's an understatement.

[pinnaculum]

The energy struck the van, cutting sharply through it as if it were made of paper, which didn't do it a great deal of good, to say the least. At least the clean cut made for neat wreckage.

When the man who had jumped out of the vehicle called out, Sephiroth stopped moving, sheathed his sword. He wasn't sure if he trusted the Turk, but he was curious.

He disappeared again, only to appear closer--but not close enough that he couldn't retreat in an instant if needed. He was listening.

[findmyownreason]

He's retrieving a sword.

He's already done it in the waking world earlier today but tonight in his dreams he does it as well, his bike once again silent and parked nearby as the wind tugs at the hems of his pants and his duster along with the faded ribbon on his arm. The sword's large and there's rust slowly creeping up the giant sword's sides but the blade is still sharp and proud as he jerks it free one handed from its resting place overlooking a city that only stands in dreams these days. He'll polish it, oil it, rework it and he'll put it where it belongs. Where it's been trying to reach all these years. But tonight, he holds it with both hands and rests his forehead against it, eyes closed and hears a voice in his head that's not really there anymore.

He also hears the almost impossibly silent scrap of small feet and without moving or opening his eyes, voice low, he asks:

"Who's there?"

[pinnaculum]

Sephiroth pauses as he catches sight of the large sword and the man holding it. A sword so large must be a SOLDIER's sword. An ordinary person couldn't wield it. There's something very familiar about it--and the man, to a lesser extent--but he can't quite say what it is. In any case, the familiarity draws him closer. He's moving more slowly now, walking rather than running over the cold ground.

When the man asks who he is, he hesitates. He's supposed to be traveling in secret, keeping himself hidden, not telling people his name. He almost retreats, but if it was familiarity that drew him, it's curiosity that keeps him where he is, watching and wondering. "Hello," he says instead.

"Is that your sword?" Sephiroth asks. If it is his, he hasn't taken good care of it. Sephiroth has been taught how to care for his weapons, and he knows better than that, a slight disapproving note in his youthful voice.

[findmyownreason]

Cloud's eyes open at that voice and for a minute they're blue fire. It's the wrong timbre but he's heard that voice too recently to not recognize it. His eyes focus on its source though and he remembers. The child. He remembers seeing Sephiroth as a child in his nightmares before. The child wasn't the cause of the nightmares though and his shoulders relax. The sword is shifted to rest idly over his shoulder, the move so familiar it's a part of him. He's not who he was just a few days ago. He can feel something other than like a trapped dog trying to gnaw off its own foot to escape.

"Yes. For a while. But it's time for it to go home." His eyes shift and take in the way the child in front of him is outfitted. There's a surprising lack of edge to his question. "What are you doing here?"

[pinnaculum]

"You must clean it," he says, his child's voice growing more stern. He can sense that there's something especially wrong with this particular weapon being in such a state, and it makes him frown. It shouldn't be rusty.

He comes forward--not so much walking as appearing before Cloud, a few paces away, not the most human way of moving, but efficient. Cloud's familiarity isn't associated with any unpleasantness, and he doesn't feel threatened by him. Cloud has a SOLDIER's eyes, but he doesn't dress like a SOLDIER. Not that he completely drops his guard, but he's relatively calm and relaxed.

"I'm traveling," he says.

[findmyownreason]

"Yes." He agrees because it is time to clean away the rust of two years. Time for both him and the sword. It'll take work but it will be worth it, easier for the sword than for him but he's going to try. It's time to fix what he's left to weather on its own. Maybe he's not the only one. Sephiroth - this young version of him that Cloud can accept - seems intent on moving on too. His eyes go back to where Midgar, ghost of itself, eats up the horizon and then move back to the boy in front of him.

"Where to?"

[pinnaculum]

"Good." The sight of the sword upsets him for some reason. He doesn't often display emotion, but for a moment or two, he looks genuinely sad as he considers the weapon, before focusing on Cloud's question instead.

"I don't know where I'm going," he says. If he had a destination in mind, it would be best to keep it a secret, but he really doesn't know. Where can he go? He glances back toward the city, too. "Away from there."

[not_a_clotpole]

[Arthur also thought he was alone.

But he spys the small figure and is immediately on the alert. Everything seems different all of a sudden, there's the oddest feeling he is no longer in Camelot.]

"Who goes there?"

[pinnaculum]

[Sephiroth stops suddenly at the sound of his voice. This is... Who is this man? He doesn't recognize him at all, and he's dressed oddly.

Sephiroth slows his pace, comes closer to investigate.

He doesn't say his name, not yet.]

I'm here. Who are you?

[not_a_clotpole]

[Arthur resheaths his sword upon realisation that it's just a small boy.

He's never seen one dressed quite like this before.

He's a little cautious in case it's a trap.]

"I am Arthur, Cr - King of Camelot." [Still getting used to the new title...]

[pinnaculum]

[A king? Kings are historical figures. In addition, he's never heard of a place called Camelot.

He's cautious as well, for the same reason.]

There aren't any kings. I am Sephiroth. [He'll risk giving his name. His appearance already makes him distinctive enough to anyone who might be looking for him. No one else looks like him, as far as he's aware.] What is Camelot?

[not_a_clotpole]

[Arthur's encountered quite a few odd names in his life, but this one seems quite different from all those. He can't put his finger on why however.

He is surprised that the kid doesn't seem to know about Camelot.]

"It's a kingdom, in Albion, are you not from here?"

[Although he's not quite sure where here is...]

[pinnaculum]

[How odd. He isn't sure what this man is talking about. Could he be mad?]

This is the Midgar area, north of Junon. There are no kingdoms.

[He nods toward the huge, industrial city on the horizon, but still without dropping his guard.]

That is Midgar.