Entries tagged with ᘚ sephiroth [v2]

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The short straw

Tseng hadn't agreed to this at all. Turks didn't do dates, much less go on ones as a prize to a random person that had won a contest.

Why he'd been chosen was logical enough, but it didn't mean he agreed with it. The Public Relationns team was full of idiots as far as he cared. He was too old for this sort of thing, and he wasn't exactly known for being personable.

He had been briefed on a few details about who he'd been gifted off to for an evening and the expectations they had for the encounter and given ample funds to make it happen. He was dressed casually enough in gray slacks and a pale blue shirt, he had a suitcoat in the car if needed along with a tie if things got formal.

All he was waiting for was the unfortunate soul he'd be saddled with for the next few hours and forced to make non work related conversation with.

Sometimes, even his luck didn't work the way he wished.

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Queen of the Seven Seas

The sound of the waves came before everything else. Slowly the view pulled back enough that a impressive ship of dark wood could be seen cutting through the ocean. Where it was headed was not obvious as there is currently no land within sight. On the ship is a crew which works like a well oiled machine, overseen by a tall woman accompanied by two men at either side of her. Out of the entire setting though, the woman seems to be the most lively one. She's dressed like the rest of her crew, if perhaps more elaborately. Her pale hair is bound back in a braid, except for her bangs which still frame her face.

Currently she's headed toward a certain area she's heard has become something of a death trap for their sort, the Navy laying ambushes on unsuspecting ships and taking their captains and crews under arrest...those that didn't die in the boarding of their ships anyway. Teaching the Navy a lesson sounds rather entertaining to her and a worthy challenge to her fighting abilities. She would show them once again that these waters belonged to her and her kin. Anyone who sought to argue the matter with her would have to argue with the six feet of steel she carried, as well as the swords of her first mates.

There was a reason after all, that she was considered the undisputed queen of these waters by the pirates which sailed them. Thus it was her duty to punish those who would attack her subjects in her territory.

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What colorful butterfly will fly next?

Cold fog swirls, and makes the darkness even deeper, shrouding everything in a damp, cloying mist. There's a smell of ash in the air. To the side, a single golden pin impales a blue butterfly with black markings, just above the thorax. It struggles with a vain flurry of its tired wings, but for all the writhing desperation, there is little life left in the spasming body. It rests weakly between fits of frantic activity.

Beneath the butterfly, a picture of a blue-haired girl in a tiara and sailor-style collar has been clearly marked 'Mercury'. Nearby, similar displays bear the names of other planets. In some, the butterfly's wings have been pulled off or its body has been singed and scorched or bent to sickening angles; others are fresh and empty, but labeled in anticipation. They stretch into the distance as far as the eye can see in all directions.

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Report I

[As the dream begins, there is a simple stretch of land shown. It looks like a stretch of land one might find in the western part of her world. 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.

At first, all one sees is the healthy grasses and wildflowers gently swaying in the small breezes which blow through this apparent valley. There's no person within immediate sight, but if one observes some of those flowers and grasses, they would note that some of the petals of the flowers have an unnatural reddish hue and the the same can be said for some of the blades of grass, their green turned into a wet rusty color as if someone bleeding and injured had passed through them.

If one were to follow that grim trail, they'd eventually the woman responsible for it seated in a area where the grasses have been cut down close to the grown. Unlike within her previous dream, she's only within part of her usual attire, the coat being the most obvious thing missing. The next most obvious thing is the blood which graces the front of her chest from the shoulder down. Beneath the mess is the wound responsible for it and even though it has already healed in waking... it has had such impact and importance to her, she's kept it from vanishing so simply here.

It doesn't seem to bother her much however, and thus her mind is currently elsewhere forming plans for the time to come ahead.]

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(no subject)

[Dreams can be bright and cheerful, sometimes. Full of candy and soda and other happy objects and playful scenarios. But some times, they're barren and empty, desolate landscapes with nowhere to go in any direction, no oases in sight no matter how far you walk and no relief from the oppressive atmosphere. And it's this the atmosphere that makes up Sora's dream.

Hard, cracked earth stretches for miles and miles in all directions, a singular, barren tree the only landmark in sight. Beneath it, a single bush of belladonna in full bloom, and next to it, choked by its roots, a single, wilting lily. And there, standing beneath the tree, curled in on himself is Sora. Except, perhaps, to everyone else, he doesn't seem to exactly be there. His shape to others is indistinct, almost like he's half-formed illusion.

But he's there, and the oppressiveness of the atmosphere seems to be taking its toll on him.]

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In Memoriam

[The dream's setting is dark, bleak, and overall is one of a depressing nature. The sky overhead is black with dark heavy clouds blocking out a great deal of light from reaching the ruins beneath them. A once proud city brought down to its metaphorical knees, ripped asunder for its crimes and torn even further apart due to more than one fight between inhuman forces within its wreckage.

It's largely deserted and abandoned, anyone who enters does so at their own risk. Those specified dangers not fabricated to keep people out of it, can kill a person if they're not careful. Yet there is one person moving among the twisted mass of metal, concrete and broken glass. For this brief time, he's discarded his white suits as well the remainder of his companions. He's in a black turtleneck, black jeans, black boots and fingerless gloves complete the ensemble.

His movements are cautious, but more because he's seeking something rather than trying to avoid endangering himself amid the wreckage. Occasionally he pauses to pull against some of the wreckage to look beneath it, or to create a space through which he can proceed through. Finally he seems to reach the largest mass of wreckage within the city, and considers the large opening, resting before him like some massive maw of a beast waiting to be fed.

It takes him a moment to visibly gather up the courage to plunge into that hole, blue eyes briefly glancing up to a half hidden moon before he turns and enters the hole, determination written upon his face and in the set of his black clad shoulders. Before he vanishes entirely into the dark, the moonlight glints off the metal of a shotgun strapped to the young man's back, along with the sight of another smaller gun resting against his side. He's ready for nearly anything he might encounter in the dark and he's bound and determined not to leave it until he's found what he's come there for.]

[ooc: guess who finally exhausted himself waiting for news? Yep, Rufus is sound asleep and currently dreaming of heading into Midgar to rescue Tseng.]

Current Music: The Flood - Katie Meula

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Report VI: Broken People Get Recycled

The world of this dream is different from those Tseng has previously been found in, though it's eerily similar to the frozen library. Pillars and archways of ice form meandering pathways across the vast frozen landscape, everything crafted of ice and snow aside from the clusters of lillies that grow impossibly from the at times transparent ground. Ribbons of light twist beneath the ground and in the air, forming rivers and flowing endlessly back and forth.

All paths, however, eventually will lead to what could be seen as some sort of receiving area or strange bedroom. Frozen constructs shed cool light in the area, illuminating carved seats draped in heavy fabrics to keep the chill off of skin. Whites, blues and pale greens dominate with the occasional glint of gold bringing the only visual warmth to the scene.

Despite the frigid scene there's a pervading deep sense of safety and home that seems to come from a rather scantily clad blue skinned woman who's mass of dark blue hair falls in braids and twists bedecked with gold and ribbons. Seated on one of the larger 'chairs', she seems more than content to let the dark haired man rest with his head in her lap as she gently runs her fingers through his hair in soothing affection a soft hum of a long lost song floating in the air.

The tialk on Tseng's forehead is blue, instead of it's usual black and he's dressed in a draping blue and silver cloth that leaves his arms and one shoulder completely bare. What can be seen of his skin is littered with scars, alluding to those that aren't visible. Despite being obviously more relaxed than anyone has likely ever seen him, he doesn't look younger. If anything the loss of the tension revealed how very tired he'd been, how thirty years of being a Turk wore at him.

Despite the somewhat obvious implications of the dream, there's no sense of sadness. Tseng has long been at peace with his own demise, and in some ways it's a bit of a relief to finally have it done with.

When approached, she gives whomever it is a look that speaks volumes. Violence of any sort will not be tolerated in her domain, and while she's incredibly tolerant and understands there may be a good deal of anger she will stop anyone from harming her charge. He is hers to protect, at least until he's good and ready to defend himself again.

She touches Tseng's shoulder, head bowing as she speaks to him briefly and shifting as he sits up to greet whomever it is with a tired though open smile.

[OOC: Holy tl:dr batman!

So, basically Tseng's dead now, timeline wise for the ff7 people who're in line with him this dream happens the night after the wails of thousands of dying souls is heard coming from the abandoned Midgar sometime just before Dirge begins after Deepground's attack on Junon where said thousands of people were taken from.

And yes, the woman is Shiva!]

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Prelude

[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.]

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Glass Mountain

There once was a king whom possessed a beautiful and talented daughter of whom he was very proud and more than a little possessive of, but as things go, he knew he had at least make a show of trying to marry her off. So he found a large mountain made entirely of glass and installed his daughter at the top of it within a golden castle. Outside the castle, upon the summit of the mountain was planted a tree which produced golden apples. To gain admittance into the castle, one had to pick one of the apples from the tree.

The task sounded deceptively simple when the king spoke of it, saying whomever managed to gain the summit and then gain admittance to the castle would gain not only his daughter but his kingdom once he passed away. Thus a great many attempted to scale the mountain and unfortunately they soon found out the task was no where near as easy or simple as it seemed. The continued painful (and sometimes fatal) failures pleased the king and he sat content on his throne. One day the king's adviser came to him and told him of a knight whom had made it easily over half way up the mountain before turning away to go back down. He advised that if the king truly desired to keep his daughter for himself that there should be put a guardian to watch over the summit of the mountain and the tree.

The king agreed and tasked the man to produced him such a guardian, thus the adviser produced a massive winged beast akin to an eagle and set it to keep watch over the tree and the mountain's summit. When the golden knight arrived again, he made it so close, so close to the mountain's top, but before he could take it and thus make it to the tree, the beast was upon him, causing his horse to rear and the two, man and horse fell all the way down the mountain to perish at its base along with all those whom had tried before.

And so the princess remained trapped within the golden castle still.

[ooc: Decided to intro the lady in with a theme post, Seph's the princess, the king is the President and the adviser is Hojo. Feel free to join in as one of the staff serving the princess, or even the king, or as one of those seeking to win/free the princess from the mountain. The story, twisted to serve my ends is right here ]

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[ Report I ] Hearts and Stars

Tseng smiled thinly as he watched the surprisingly large group gathered in one of Shin-Ra's ballrooms, he'd never realized quite how many people considered him family whether they were actually related or not. There was a smattering of brothers and sisters along with their kids, people he couldn't remember seeing but were somehow actually related to him and had come to congratulate him. Turks were there, of course, new ones who were just beginning to learn how to tie their ties and old ones who'd retired before his time.

He'd given a speech; speaking of loyalty and camaraderie, that they'd only need to call and he'd put his tie back on and be out the door for them. Once a Turk, always a Turk and he'd never abandon them or the tiny group of relatives he'd recently been informed of still having.

He knew he should talk to them, approach them and say something but he didn't know a thing about any of them these days. Family had been the company for nearly twenty years now, and while blood was thicker than water he'd shed an awful lot of it alongside the Turks.

It was awkward.

[OOC: Tseng's dreaming of his retirement party, and there's newly discovered family in attendance.]

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003: youthful reverie ☄

[This is a child's dream, or so it seems. The age of the child is difficult to determine, but he must be younger than ten. His hair is pale silver, his eyes bright green. The dream flickers from scene to scene, the mood shifting from quiet to cheerful to unsettling.]

☄01

In the middle of a gray room, he is kneeling on the floor, in the course of solving a complicated three dimensional puzzle. There are thousands of pieces, but as complex as the design is, Sephiroth snaps the pieces into place quickly, one after another, the puzzle steadily rising like a tower before him. It has a somewhat organic shape, twisting and branching as it rises, and it is difficult to say what its final shape will be, if not something abstract. Whatever it is, Sephiroth seems completely absorbed in building it.

☄02

It's a sunny day.

The greenery of the open countryside surrounds him, and Sephiroth is alone, wielding a practice sword, swinging it at tree branches. There is no other person, or even so much as a man-made structure, in sight. In spite of his youth, Sephiroth is inhumanly swift and well-coordinated. Humans can't jump so high or so far. There's a certain playfulness to his actions as he leaps and swings his weapon, felling leaves and branches, but there is precision, too, and strength, and the game has an undercurrent of gravity. He's playing, but he's training.

☄03

The scene changes, and again, he is alone. Every scene begins with him alone. This, however, is different than the gray room and the green countryside. There should certainly be people here: he finds himself in the middle of downtown Midgar, tall buildings rising on either side of him. It is nearing twilight, and the streetlights and electric signs are lit, but the streets themselves are deserted. Where has everyone gone?

Sephiroth doesn't know, but he can hear a noise in the distance. At first, it sounds like the voices of a crowd reduced to a murmur by the space separating him from it. There's music, too, a band playing, and marching. A parade? That might explain the absence of people here. Maybe they're all at the parade. He hurries toward the sound, but as he grows nearer, the marching becomes an ominous rumble, and the murmur of the parade-goers changes, rising into a cheer. But the tone of their voices is so high pitched, almost alarmed.

It sounds like screaming. His eyes widen.

He quickens his pace further, trying to reach the crowd, but no matter how fast he goes, the parade remains ahead of him, always just out of sight. And are the people cheering or screaming, or both?

[[OOC: December event! This dream is family-themed. Sephiroth, who never truly had a family, and who finds himself alone in the current time, is feeling a lack of connection with others and dreaming of himself as a child. Those who make their way into the dream will feel a pull toward believing themselves related to Sephiroth in some way (and the belief will be mutual), but the nature of the relationship or whether one resists the pull is up to the player. Feel free to enter any of the scenes.

Replies will come from

pinnaculum.]]

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.005 short days ago we lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow

It's a sky of storm clouds, dark and threatening, piled against each other, the air thick with the scent of ozone - but it's a silent sky. The clouds don't move, there's no storm wind, no rumble of thunder or flares of lightning. Instead the sky is static, heavy. Indifferent. Strange streaks of a living, glowing green trace across the sky in slim arches, frozen in place, paths or trailing ends of forgotten energy. Underfoot, barren, ancient, rocky ground falls away on every side.

It's an island of rock floating in an endless sky, flat on its surface, bottom a jagged mess, as if it was ripped out of somewhere better by its roots and left to drift through a sea of storm clouds. Far in the distance there are other uprooted clots of earth, just as barren, just as forgotten. This island in the middle of nowhere however isn't empty. There are ruins here, fallen pillars. And there are bodies. So many dead bodies. Soldiers, scientists, civilians, scattered around the ruins, each one dead, each one bearing the traces of a violent death even if they blur at their edges and become indistinct if looked at too closely.

There is one body that's still alive though, deep in the heart of the ruin, sitting on weathered steps that lead to nowhere. There's a giant sword driven into the stone near his right side and a thick leather wing spreads out from his left shoulder. He's not dressed in his usual garb, instead a ragged, lethal mix of clothes from memory, not always his, and he doesn't look up from where he has he mouth and chin pressed into the hands of flesh and clawed steel woven in front of him, elbows resting on his knees. The stairs are clear of bodies beyond his.

Except for two.

On his right, near the bloody sword is the body of a dark haired man in SOLDIER uniform, spiky hair clotted in his own blood, blue green eyes closed for good. On the left, almost under the stretch of the wing is a brunette woman, dressed in pink, flowers scattered dying and forgotten around her.

Blue eyes the color of the lightning that doesn't move through the empty clouds lift at intrusion but other than that Cloud doesn't rise or move at all. He's here with his dead.

What do you want?

ooc. so, another Cloud's-messed-up post. Because we have got to get through these so we can move on to the naked in high school dreams ~~that just killed the atmosphere I was trying to set didn't it?~~ Anyway, I am shamelessly swiping the Dissidia setting and his alternate Kingdom Hearts outfit from that too. He's not Kingdom Hearts Cloud, though feel free to think he is if that applies. And yes, that's Zack and Aerith quite dead on the stairs with him (though that doesn't mean if you're Zack or Aerith you can't still come for the sheer mind screw of it all). Be prepared for the emo - or conversely, some violence. He's just come to the realization that he's going to have to abandon his family in his waking world and he's not in a chatty mood.

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002 || Second Dream

( You're about to view content that the poster has advised should be viewed with discretion. )

Current Mood: manic

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[012 ☿] Mer-cury

She's a mermaid, slipping through the water even faster than her normal body could do, darting beneath the waves and breathing her element. Her tail, shimmering blue and silver scales, flickers to speed her along. Sapphires adorn her ears and neck. When she surfaces, finally, she rests on a small rock outcropping, and plays her harp.

The music is clear and lovely. When her voice joins it, lilting and enticing, it becomes irresistible. Nothing like it belongs to this world. Ships divert their courses, heading straight for the rocks, heedless and helpless.

The inevitable wreckage causes chaos. Men shout and struggle to keep themselves afloat. A black-haired soldier determined to reach Mercury finally comes close, only for the mermaid to grab him with unnatural strength and drag him beneath the water with her in a grasping and clinging embrace. She laughs coldly, stirring up a cloud of bubbles that entangle themselves in her hair that wavers with the current. She likes luring them to her.

These sailors and soldiers are far from the first. In the background, the remains of several ships pile up against the misty horizon, notably one marked as the SS Senshi.

[ooc: join in the mer-cury's mischief, be drowned or wrecked (or spared if you're a friend!), just swim together, anything goes. can tell me what you'd prefer.]

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Interlude III - The Third Dream

[She had to stop reading the fantasy novels before bed because now she was a mermaid in her dreams. She blinked at the water around her, a bit unbelieving that she was breathing and see the clear blue all around her. Much of the oceans in Gaia were hardly this clear. But it was also her dream so it could be whatever she wanted. She looked down at herself, the blue tail and extra appendage coming from behind. It was a stinger, it looked like. Her fingers were webbed with a clear membrane and her ribs and breasts were both gills and scales.

She moved about, even surfacing to look at the world around her, her red hair slicked back. She sighed and shook her head.]

My oh my...

[[OOC: November evented! Her mermaid form looks like this and shush, Miri, I like this picture. :| Let me know if you want her above water or below]]

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001 || First Dream

[It begins with a simple gray metallic room. The place where most of the fun the man had managed to have with the two people whom actually cared about him as a person and not as a weapon nor as a science specimen, had taken place. Also the place where everything had begun to go downhill actually. That last spar, the wound Genesis received during it... was it any wonder then that the dream begins there? But then considering the state his mind is currently in and the fact that his current strongest memories concern themselves with a certain trio of men and one blond, perhaps its only natural the sleeping mind chooses to go to something which is positive and possibly enjoyable rather than inflicting the pain of guilt, regret and possible shame that other later memories have a tendency of bringing.

The room is abruptly transformed into a different setting it would seem, the city of Junon to one side, the ocean to the other, as well as below. The man himself currently standing on the massive canon that the city holds as a mighty threat and defense looks as he once did, back in that iconic uniform and possessing that lengthy fall of silver-white hair once more, both down his back and front, the bangs falling long to rest against his upper chest. There are a few things the dream doesn't change though, the obvious aging he's done since he's been in this setting... and the inhuman eyes, pupils narrowed against the glare of the sun and still holding faint traces of that fading insanity he's still working to overcome.

Learning to live in the present, in a world which despises him is no easy task. Neither is attempting to actually learn just what is considered normal and live by it. At least he's not doing it alone. Sephiroth lets his gaze fall to the water, seemingly content to remain there in silence. The silence doesn't last for long however, in as if thinking even briefly of the redhead, and the man's usual actions when he stood where he currently did, he'd summoned a figment of him into this dream.

Genesis's voice filled the air with the usual poem, but perhaps his mood or some other little thing decided on the verse as it wasn't the same verse which had been delivered during that last unfortunate meeting of theirs. It's rather fitting though in his opinion, regardless of why it was given instead of the other.]

My friend, do you fly away now?
To a world that abhors you and I?
All that awaits you is a somber morrow
No matter where the winds may blow