(Sample Taken from intro-post written for Entrance Way)
He'd failed. Again.
Every time, a variation of the same maneuver, seemed to guarantee his defeat. A chain of 13 unstoppable, unblock-able attacks that he'd not even been able to move to dodge. The damage to his vessel, which he had willed into being from the Lifestream itself, was irreparable and if he continued to force his will over his creation then he himself could be forced back into the Lifestream with its death. Better to let go, and preserve the core of his being, retaining that sense of self outside of the system of the Planet. Especially since he'd worked so hard to recover so much. His black-feathered wing was wrapped around and he dissolved away from the feet up in a thick flurry of smoking feathers.
Sephiroth landed from a few feet in the air, with a similar flurry of black feathers preceding his arrival, leather-clad knees and then face first into freshly mown grass. Then there was utter stillness, any moment then he expected the attack of the Lifestream, as it had on every one of his defeats. He imagined the way it would flow around and through him, ripping his entire being apart. Or it would try, Sephiroth had already guaranteed his future; this was retreat into the Lifestream, not a banishment.
There was something about the wet smell of the grass though, that brought him around to consciousness. The thick aroma of Spring assaulted his senses the moment he pushed up from the ground and back up onto his knees. A leather-gloved hand ran back through one side of his long silver hair, freeing a few loose blades of grass and the last small black feathers before they smokily dissolved away into the air. Green eyes expanded to their fullest and delicate silver eyebrows raised as Sephiroth took in his new surroundings; well he wasn't expecting to end up here that's for sure. Where ever here was.
He had skid a little down this particular Hill but other than that there didn't seem to be anything wrong with him. That feeling of his energy hemorrhaging from every pore of his being that he'd experienced just moments before, gone. Sephiroth still felt a little dazed but he wasn't sure anymore if that was due to that retreat he'd induced (and had clearly gone wrong!) or if it was simply the warm, bright sunlight from this pleasant Spring day burning his eyes due to the contrast with the polluted Midgar skies.
His polluted Midgar sky. On His Planet.
Where Am I? He thought as he hauled himself steadily to his feet. Still taking in the view looking down towards the mansion and idly brushing the odd blade of grass from leather-ed arms where it hadn't just fallen away when he'd stood up. It was then that his thoughts were caught by the very action of brushing down his leather attire. This felt different. No, that wasn't it. After a couple of pats down his front and stretching of arms out in front, it came to him. It was the very fact that he was feeling at all. He had mostly forgotten what it felt like, how constrained it felt, to have a physical form to call his own again. His consciousness bound to all the intricate fibers of the same.
He sunk his consciousness inward, as if for further verification. Like a wildfire which started within his chest, at a single thought all of the Power that Mother had bestowed upon him was awakened and ready in an instant. As he would have expected it to be, as empowered as he deserved to be. It felt even more complete than he had in a long time, though now perfectly contained within one physical being rather than swarming around inside the life of the Planet infecting humans. Sephiroth's mouth curled into a smirk as he came to this realization and opened his eyes again.
[CANON] Sephiroth || Final Fantasy VII || reserve || 7 of 7
(Sample Taken from intro-post written for Entrance Way)
He'd failed. Again.
Every time, a variation of the same maneuver, seemed to guarantee his defeat. A chain of 13 unstoppable, unblock-able attacks that he'd not even been able to move to dodge. The damage to his vessel, which he had willed into being from the Lifestream itself, was irreparable and if he continued to force his will over his creation then he himself could be forced back into the Lifestream with its death. Better to let go, and preserve the core of his being, retaining that sense of self outside of the system of the Planet. Especially since he'd worked so hard to recover so much. His black-feathered wing was wrapped around and he dissolved away from the feet up in a thick flurry of smoking feathers.
Sephiroth landed from a few feet in the air, with a similar flurry of black feathers preceding his arrival, leather-clad knees and then face first into freshly mown grass. Then there was utter stillness, any moment then he expected the attack of the Lifestream, as it had on every one of his defeats. He imagined the way it would flow around and through him, ripping his entire being apart. Or it would try, Sephiroth had already guaranteed his future; this was retreat into the Lifestream, not a banishment.
There was something about the wet smell of the grass though, that brought him around to consciousness. The thick aroma of Spring assaulted his senses the moment he pushed up from the ground and back up onto his knees. A leather-gloved hand ran back through one side of his long silver hair, freeing a few loose blades of grass and the last small black feathers before they smokily dissolved away into the air. Green eyes expanded to their fullest and delicate silver eyebrows raised as Sephiroth took in his new surroundings; well he wasn't expecting to end up here that's for sure. Where ever here was.
He had skid a little down this particular Hill but other than that there didn't seem to be anything wrong with him. That feeling of his energy hemorrhaging from every pore of his being that he'd experienced just moments before, gone. Sephiroth still felt a little dazed but he wasn't sure anymore if that was due to that retreat he'd induced (and had clearly gone wrong!) or if it was simply the warm, bright sunlight from this pleasant Spring day burning his eyes due to the contrast with the polluted Midgar skies.
His polluted Midgar sky. On His Planet.
Where Am I? He thought as he hauled himself steadily to his feet. Still taking in the view looking down towards the mansion and idly brushing the odd blade of grass from leather-ed arms where it hadn't just fallen away when he'd stood up. It was then that his thoughts were caught by the very action of brushing down his leather attire. This felt different. No, that wasn't it. After a couple of pats down his front and stretching of arms out in front, it came to him. It was the very fact that he was feeling at all. He had mostly forgotten what it felt like, how constrained it felt, to have a physical form to call his own again. His consciousness bound to all the intricate fibers of the same.
He sunk his consciousness inward, as if for further verification. Like a wildfire which started within his chest, at a single thought all of the Power that Mother had bestowed upon him was awakened and ready in an instant. As he would have expected it to be, as empowered as he deserved to be. It felt even more complete than he had in a long time, though now perfectly contained within one physical being rather than swarming around inside the life of the Planet infecting humans. Sephiroth's mouth curled into a smirk as he came to this realization and opened his eyes again.
This had been his goal.