Prelude

[sixthsefira]

[The dream starts innocently enough, a simple stretch of land. It looks like a stretch of land one might find in the western part of the world, or even within Wutai. There's no city or town within sight of it, though there are some mountains off in the distance, their peaks cloaked in the white of snow and ice.

There's a lone figure moving through the area, the healthy grasses and wildflowers brushing lightly against the black leather boots and coat she's wearing. The wind lightly toying with her long silver-white hair. It seems a relaxed and innocent dream, until one notices small tale-tales within the woman's body language. She's seeking something important, but as of yet hasn't found it. Then a rather large black bird appears within the sky and she purposely moves to follow it carefully, watching and waiting until it lands before she moves closer to it, one gloved hand reaching out in such a way it suggests a familiarity with the bird.

What comes as an apparent unexpected shock to her is when the bird turns and attempts to peck at the hand she's extended. She manages to get it out of the way before the blow lands, but the fact that the bird has attempted to hurt her seems to have startled her somewhat. Before she can recover to try reaching for it once again, the black bird spreads its wings and takes off to the skies, leaving her sight within short order.]

Comments

[histrionic]

Envy says far more about the one who fosters it than the one who is envied. There's something he lacks, something he desires. Perhaps he feels he suffers, for lack of it. You might not have it, but he wants it, and so he sees it, even in places where it is not to be found.

[He could find the envy in a living heart and foster it. Along with greed, hatred, and fear. Not that he would do such a thing now, but he understood how such feelings could be amplified, and his was not the only force that could warp minds and breed discord. Some people did it all on their own.

As for himself, he'd learned that lesson only too well, and too painfully. He'd envied his brother, and he'd envied the living, and he'd envied the free. It had blinded him, and his blindness had ended in destruction and his death.]

My name is Kuja.

[And he bows, politely and more than a touch dramatically.]

[sixthsefira]

I see.

[And that did actually made sense in a way. She would have to think the issue over again later, perhaps in a different manner than which she'd been going than before. She might not be able to do anything still.. but understanding would at least be nice.]

Sephiroth. A pleasure to meet you, Kuja.

[histrionic]

Emotions are messy and imprecise, but they have their own rules they follow, their own language.

[He couldn't always feel every emotion, but he understood the worse ones all too well.]

Sephiroth. Your name has a lovely sound. [She's so mannerly, what a pleasant change.] It is a pleasure to meet you as well.