onepassingnight | ☄ let down your hair

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☄ let down your hair

You find yourself standing beneath a dark, clouded sky, with a great tower rising before you. A forbidding sight, so at first it's easy to overlook one aspect of the scene that seems somehow out of place.

Yet if one is observant, one may notice that there's a long, unbound skein of silver hanging down one side of the building, from an open window that's quite high up (the 67th Floor, to be precise). In that high chamber, Sephiroth sits waiting, thoughtful and even a little wistful. He isn't supposed to let his hair down without being ordered to do so, but he tires of his seclusion here, and of following orders.

The doors and lower windows of the tower cannot be entered, sealed by some force, and guarded. There appears to be no viable way to enter, other than that strange, pale, silver fall of hair.

So, do you climb it?

[[OOC: The tale of Sephpunzel. Relevant image. If you'd like to be already in the story or play some character other than the rope-climber, be my guest!

You can also request child Sephiroth (

pinnaculum) instead of adult Sephiroth, but I'll default to adult if not specified otherwise.]]

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[ In spite of all his evident misgivings, different different doesn't sound quite as terrible as the normal sort of different he'd had in mind, first, and with an encouraging flap of stunted wings (Go on), the chocobo bounces lightly in approval.

(It's a slightly embarrassing impulse, but there's simply nothing to be done for instinct ingrained so deeply as that little bobbing dance of enthusiasm.)

At that last lamentable realization, though, he finds it very easy to calm, again - right, of course, they couldn't really just sneak out and hope for the best. There was still the very real problem of being sixty-seven stories up.

This time, Cloud flaps a little despondently, turning away from the window and its suddenly rather tempting view of the outside world. Being a flightless giant (but still comparatively small) bird must make him a very disappointing sidekick...

But he's determined not to give up trying, yet! Leaving behind a couple of molted feathers in his hurry, he bolts back to his nest. Hidden behind and beneath the convenient array of furniture, the place where he sleeps is really just a messy collection of cast-off - mostly outgrown or unguarded clothing (the latter largely just coats pilfered from unwary lab techs). In his beak, he snatches up the sleeve of the nearest article and runs it out trailing behind him all the way to where the terribly imposing princess is busily brooding.

Leaving this lying in a dingy white line across the floor, he rushes back to repeat the retrieval a second time (stumbling only a little), then a third (falling down more than a little). Without hands, it's a difficult pantomime when he stops and attempts to excitedly imply that tying the clothes together into a rope might be the brightest idea he's ever had, but hopefully some of that warrrking translates. ]

[He watches the chocobo bouncing and flapping his agreement, with the faintest of smiles, because even the gloomiest princess smiles at a plucky animal sidekick, at least every once in a while.

He watches, and he waits, as the chocobo brings out the garments one by one, then mimes tying them together. He nods. He understands what's meant, maybe because of the pantomime, and maybe because of the warking, or maybe a little of both. After all, with a chocobo as your only companion, you get to be good at translating.]

It's an idea. But we'll need so many to make it long enough.

[He sighs. He's not sure how good the idea is. While there's more fabric they can use in the laboratory than these few garments, there isn't that much readily available. Sixty-seven floors is a long, long way. They're perhaps much higher up than the usual tower that could be escaped from by ropes made from clothing and linens.

It would take time to make a rope long enough. How could they hide the losses and the rope for the time it would take? But climbing down themselves is an idea.]

There's only one thing long enough here for us to climb down.

[Of course, he looks at his hair. There's only one way he could climb down his own hair. An irrevocable, drastic way. He can already imagine how livid the professor would be if he dared cut it.]

[ Being an earthbound bird (and a very small one, at that), Cloud is not very well versed in properly estimating the height of impossibly tall man-made towers; to his perception, it seems he's hauled out more than a few miles' length of rope for them, by the time he's finished.

And it's an absolutely crushing blow to his momentary burst of confidence, when Sephiroth declares the effort inadequate. Even his feathers appear to droop in defeat, as he shuffles a step back and drops to sit on his feet upon the cold, steel floor. It's the chocobo equivalent of mimicking that sigh - all melodrama unintended.

The resignation is real, though. They've spent time enough accepting mere complacency for him to take this rejection as admonishment for having had the idea, in the first place - at least until his most esteemed princess speaks up, again, of the unthinkable.

Naturally, his reaction to the implication beneath that seemingly simple statement of fact is, at first, appropriately shocked. The startled sound that escapes him is not a proper wark at all, in fact. Except...

Well, is there really any point in being so cautious? Thinking of the future, he can't see wanting to climb back up to the top of their imposing prison - even if the world outside is populated only by the types of people who come to make their demands of and run their tests on their prize captive. If that's all they know, now, it won't really make much difference, either way.

In for a gil, in for a gallon.

(Not that he'd know one for the other, himself.)

Given the way that professor guards Sephiroth so jealously, already, irrevocable and drastic seem like a proportionate measure of response. If he really wants to get out there, that is.

Cloud's inquisitive look is even more hesitant, this time, wilting pride fresh from chastisement - but it persists, just the same. ]

[It's all right, he doesn't expect a chocobo to understand such matters. It was actually an astounding idea for a chocobo to have; for one to understand the concept of tying clothes together when they don't wear any and don't use tools is quite impressive.

He sees those drooping feathers and that sad despondency over there. He responds with a brief, not particularly warm statement:]

It was a good idea.

[He says it because he means it. He's not the kind of person to give false praise, not even to his adorable animal sidekick.]

We just need more.

[And he looks at his hair again. Having worn his hair so long, for so long, Sephiroth finds contemplating his new idea a little startling himself. His own thoughts are similar to that of his chocobo. Having guarded him so closely and made it so hard for him to be reached, the professor has somehow left him in charge of the only way in or out. And all that's keeping him from using it is his own training and his own habit. He'd grown up this way and grown so used to it that he hadn't considered doing something different.

He might not even have come up with this idea if not for Cloud's idea, because before the moment he'd thought it, it had seemed unthinkable.

He wonders if he should stop to plan, or if waiting will make this seem impossible again, as it did moments ago. Honestly, what good will waiting do? Any significant preparations he makes would be noticed. And if the professor even suspects, he'll likely take this last thing out of Sephiroth's control.

What do they have to lose? Nothing.]

It's time.

[Who knows when the professor will be back?]

[ He knows - to whatever extent even an eerily intelligent chocobo can - that Sephiroth does not pretend to praise anybody. He's awfully blunt, when he speaks at all, and of only the subtlest inflection (which gives Cloud some notable trouble measuring his mood as well as his meaning, most of the time). But he wouldn't commend an effort that was truly unworthy.

The gesture lifts his spirits far more than he lets on; he doesn't have many good role models, living in an isolated place like this, but it's hardly a secret that he looks up to Sephiroth as though he is personally responsible for bringing the sun up every morning.

Rising to his feet again (hesitantly, not too eagerly), the diminutive chocobo snaps up the end of one of the coats he's dragged out of his safe hiding space and turns back to begin tidying up. He doesn't get much farther than that, though, when Sephiroth speaks up again.

Dropping his burden with another startle, Cloud looks around immediately, eyes wide (and maybe the slightest bit hopeful). ]

(It's time- For what?)

[ If someone's coming, he'll have to hurry and pack away his nest, again - but... On second glance, that doesn't appear to be the case. No, something's definitely different about tonight, already. ]

[Sephiroth hasn't lived this long with that much hair without having learned how to handle it skillfully. Now that he's finally decided on a course of action, he knows what to do. In spite of everything, the action itself is actually quite easy, and doesn't take long to carry out.

He rises and steps away from the window and ties a knot in his hair to keep the strands together, a loose and looping thing which he carefully tightens. Then, to answer the chocobo's unspoken question, he takes up Masamune--because naturally, he has a giant sword with him in the laboratory (and also, it's just cooler that way)--and cuts through his hair with one quick, decisive stroke of the blade.

His newly-cut hair hangs around his face. He ties the now-separate "rope" of hair around a convenient exposed pipe (the prevalence of Mako energy means there are a lot around here), and there: it's done. His lips quirk into the faintest of wry smiles as he regards Cloud.

There's no undoing it now, is there?]

We'd better go before he returns, wouldn't you say?

[ It's perhaps a very good thing there isn't anyone down there, all sixty-seven stories below, because from the open window, on such a still night, his horrified wark would surely be audible.

For some distance around, too.

Thinking such a drastic thing (albeit with all the due skepticism of the quiet cynic) and actually seeing it happen (just that easily, too) are two very different experiences, and the latter leaves him stunned - no matter whose idea it was to go for it. He'll have to suspend any wondering contemplation of Sephiroth's new look for later, though. Even with all of his feathers fluffed up so far they might as well be standing on end, he doesn't mishear an order. Or an invitation.

Wings flapping fruitlessly at his sides, he scrambles around, ducking his head in a sprint for the window. He may be small, but he's quick - and he can jump, hopping dutifully up onto the stacked crates nearest his goal.

It should probably frighten him to be leaving behind his whole life here, but it's by far the more mortifying prospect to think of disappointing Sephiroth.

Or being left behind.

Now he'll- Just have to figure out how to climb down a rope without hands... ]

[Sephiroth is a careful, calculating man, but he can be quick to act once he's decided on a course. And now he has. Irrevocably.

He allows himself another faint smile at the chocobo's wark. Well, he's not wrong to express some horror. Sephiroth may have just doomed them both with this decision, because who knows what will happen to them now? However, he can't afford to be less than confident, having made this choice.

No matter what, Sephiroth will do what he can to protect his plucky sidekick, the unusually small, flightless chocobo. He comes to the window himself and sees the problem. He would be a poor princess if he couldn't transport his one and only animal friend. Although he's a small chocobo, carrying him while climbing down a rope would be an unwieldy affair. No, there's got to be a better way. After a moment, he thinks of it.]

Wait a moment. There are some Materia here.

[He turns from the window and strides further into the lab. His head feels so light when he moves, without the great weight of his hair. It's a curious and not unpleasant feeling. He returns shortly.]

I'll cast Mini on you. Then it will be quite easy for me to carry you.

[While making Cloud even more tiny and adorable. Also, arming himself with Materia was a good idea. They'll need all the help they can get.]

[ Materia? What in the world does he want with that, at a time like this?

Cloud is just considering the feasibility of hemming himself a parachute out of all of those stolen, threadbare old clothes, as he pokes his head cautiously out over the windowsill and into the breezy night air, when Sephiroth comes back - with his terrible new idea in tow.

Immediately, the chocobo tucks his long neck back in and makes about as much of a face as he is capable. Great, just what he needs: to be even smaller.

His protest is obvious and entirely reasonable. Even though it's difficult to look at Sephiroth head-on, most of the time (and even more so, now, with no time at all to acclimate to his strange new style), he's very persistent, this time. He'll slide down foot over foot, if he has to - just let him go to his death with some pride intact. ]

[Sephiroth knows that look. He can tell that his chocobo companion is not pleased. He can be rather fussy and grumpy and antisocial, but Sephiroth knows that his upbringing here in the lab plays a part in that. (That same upbringing made him what he is today.) Regardless he's not going to let him try climbing down and risk his safety. Chocobos are not climbing birds, and pride is not worth dying over. And if Sephiroth didn't have his plucky animal companion, where would he be? He'd hardly be a princess at all! Hey, he'd had his hair climbed up by asshole executives for years; Cloud can deal with temporarily being smaller. This is not the time for stubbornness.]

The spell is temporary.

[His plan is excellent, takes almost no time to set in motion and makes up for the fact that chocobos do not have arms or opposable thumbs. There's no shame in having less size, it's what you do with the size you do have that matters. See, isn't that inspirational? Not that he says that out loud.]

You'll return to your own size soon enough.

[ He wants to trust Sephiroth, he really does.

So he will, albeit no less reluctantly. At least if he was allowed to try sliding down under his own volition, he'd be able to die with dignity. If they get caught, this way, he'll be shamed right out of existence.

With the closest a chocobo can manage to a deeply concerned ~~pout~~ frown, Cloud eventually nods. In the end, he simply can't waste any more time trying to think of alternate routes - in spite of his pride, he's well aware of the potentially narrow window they're working with, now, and that it probably means both their lives (if not just his, that of a simple animal not even worthy of being a test sample, for having incited this great and terrible shift in the order of the world).

His wark sounds more like a sigh than a proper bird call. ]

(Let's get it over with...)

[Don't worry, Cloud, your secret shame of being shrunk will be safe with Sephiroth. He's closemouthed and good at keeping secrets. And loyal to his friends. (Well, as long as they don't stab him in the back too many times; he does have his limits.)

It's simple enough. Sephiroth doesn't hesitate any longer. Reaching out, he casts Mini, the magic surrounding Cloud for a moment before it diminishes him. This done, Sephiroth bends down to scoop up Cloud with one arm, holding the now-miniature chocobo carefully, though securely.

He's not a very comforting person, but he does offer a little comfort.]

It won't be long.

[And with that, he heads for the hair rope leading down, which used to weigh him down, but now is his way out. He looks out. The way seems clear. However, the time they're heading down is when they'll be most vulnerable. All the more reason not to delay another moment. After taking a deep breath, he starts to climb down.]

[ Not a problem.

He'll only ever stab you in the back once, Sephiroth.

BUT ENOUGH ABOUT THAT.

Whether or not he manages to affect an appropriately reassuring air, that minor comfort appears to assuage the better part of Cloud's concerns - well, that, or maybe he's just too busy trying to cope with being carted around like a chocobo-shaped care package, as they embark on the first monumental step in what is sure to be the grandest journey. His motion sickness is still something to be contended with, after all, and although it's nowhere near as bad as in a closed space, there's something to be said for the way his stomach drops at the sight of the real drop below.

No matter how it nauseates him, however, Cloud understands the effort Sephiroth is undertaking to climb down while keeping a steady grip on him. Craning his neck around the arm holding him in place, he does his best to determinedly (if woozily) keep his eyes on the ground, way too far below.

Maybe it doesn't make much of a difference that he's far smaller than normal, under the unfortunate effects of the spell - being outside is enough to make him feel damn near pocket-sized, all on its own. ]

[[ooc: I keep imagining this during this thread.]]

[Good one. Ha ha, those foreshadowing jokes will NEVER GET OLD.

Seriously, I still think they're funny. ;_;

BUT YES, ENOUGH OF THAT FOR NOW.

Sephiroth has a sure hand, and though most would find it difficult to manage carrying a chocobo and climbing a hair rope down all those many stories, if there's anyone who could handle it, it's him. Somehow, Hojo and the executives manage to climb up the ladder of hair, and those jerks aren't nearly as skilled.

Everything seems to be going well as Sephiroth descends, but of course, that's always the case when things suddenly go wrong. After he's gone about the length of ten floors, suddenly, drifting up from below, he hears the sound of a voice. A very familiar voice.

The professor's voice, saying his name. Sephiroth freezes, his grip on both hair rope and tiny chocobo tightening.]

[ Shhh shhh, it'll be okay.

I'll stop abusing my future knowledge eventually.

(No I won't.)

It's involuntary; he can't help it. At the sound of that voice, the (now extra) miniature chocobo first freezes, and then seizes onto his support with his only means to do so: those big-clawed bird feet. He's been watching the ground, however many (hundreds? thousands? birds can't count) floors below - and he thought himself doing a fairly good job.

But it's shadowy, still, even by the light of the moon, and he knows coping with the swaying, woozy feeling of being carried on downward has left him further removed from the top of his game than he would like. But - even in the dark, that bright, white blur of labcoat he's certain he wouldn't have missed.

That there might simply be an open window just below them, letting on the open night air, doesn't occur to his frantic mind - he's practically toppling over the arm holding him to get a better look around. It's a minor miracle he manages to keep his beak shut, in the process. ]

[That's it just

go on with your gratuitous augury!

I know you can't help it.

Both Sephiroth and Cloud are absolutely still, for that moment, as if Hojo's voice has some power over them, like a Time Materia. But the moment is brief. As Cloud begins to search the vicinity, Sephiroth tightens his grip, as if worried that Cloud will actually fall, and he looks down, to see where the professor is.

It's true, Hojo isn't far away on the ground below, gazing up at them but much closer at hand. Several floors down, yes, but still close enough to be a threat, dangerously close to the rope of hair as he leans out, laughing. Sephiroth isn't sure, at first, what to do. Their position is precarious, and Hojo could easily cut the rope from where he is, cutting off their route of escape with it.

He could possibly do worse, but Sephiroth suspects he wouldn't, wouldn't risk damaging his most precious specimen.]

You didn't think it would be that easy, did you? To escape from me. I've been watching, you see...

[And it seems he's never free of him, no matter what he does, how far away he tries to go, always that face leering out of the darkness, laughing. A wave of hopelessness washes over him.]

Edited 2012-05-26 06:50 (UTC)

[ You and your big words

and your small, difficult words.

Panic is not a new centerpiece, in a bird's mind - their fight-or-flight is mostly supposed to be flight, after all. But underneath that immediate, blinding shock, there's something else, in Cloud.

He wouldn't call himself brave (and would likely be right not to - there's a marked difference between bravery and wild, stupid determination, and he doesn't so much skirt it as stomp all over it, on the best of days). But once the initial rise of shock begins to plateau, he doesn't think once of turning back (or, worse yet, fleeing and forgetting all about his loyalties to the man attached to the solid arm around him, keeping him from falling to the inevitable, should he really want to try getting out of this all on his own). No, turning back doesn't cross his mind, nor going ahead on his own, in whatever impossible fashion he might imagine that possible.

When he sees the way Sephiroth has frozen (feels it, because that's all that's supporting him, now), he blanks for an instant, himself, as if in sympathy. And then he sees very clearly what he must do. The chocobo barely even spares a glance for the Professor, abhorrent as he is (and perhaps some small, terrified part of him knows that if he looks, he'll probably be hypnotized by his own mounting horror, in the same fashion).

He twists his neck around and pecks, once, hard, against the side he's being held to. It doesn't even occur to him that he might be dropped for this, either, but that's the nonsense level his brand of courage lives on, anyway.

(Come on!)

If Sephiroth can't spur himself onward, maybe he'll answer to a little dumb persistence. There's certainly no going back, now. ]

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☄ let down your hair

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I just want to keep chocobo-Cloud forever!

Once he's conscious again he will have so many mixed feelings about this but for now HE'S ALL YOURS

Good, because he is the cutest. DON'T WORRY, SEPHIROTH WILL ALSO HAVE MIXED FEELINGS

NEVER GONNA LIVE DOWN BEING A CHOCOBOHEAD, NOW, CLOUD 8(

at least he's the most ADORABLE chocobo-head

you have something personal against his dignity don't you

...mmmaybe

8(

he's just the cutest tiny-winy chocobaby :3

yup he's just going to curl up into a ball and die now

but curling up makes him EVEN CUTER!

baby choboco butt wiggles... are the cutest thing i've ever seen

aren't they? see, that's how cute cloud is!

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