( That he still feels Sephiroth's approach before he sees him is, by Yazoo's estimation, a reasonably good sign. Bitter air draws in heavy and close with a weight that crackles through every cell of his being; it calls to him, demanding obedience and reverence in equal measures now that he's in the presence of his maker. Does Sephiroth feel it, too? Would he be able to recognise it for what it is, even if he could? Yazoo's lips pull into a distressed pout as he briefly considers the fact that Sephiroth may still reject him yet—that he might not be ready to accept the truth of what he was wrought into being to do.
I won't escape.
A chill begins to worm its way down the length of the Remnant's spine. It was a mistake to do this without the support of his brothers, and it was a mistake not to quietly encourage Kadaj take the helm as he always does. Yazoo is no negotiator, nor does he hold within his memory enough information to belabour his points, but the idea of their brother remaining in Shinra's grasp for even a moment longer made it impossible for him to wait. Now all that remains it to see whether it's a mistake that will cost him his life.
He made himself easy to find, as requested. Yazoo turns to watch the final few feet of Sephiroth's approach; he looks different, seems somehow a little younger around the eyes, but Masamune gleams knowingly in his hand as the light slides over its gentle curve. His expression remains carefully impassive as he pins his brother with that feline gaze, that matching mako-green clashing between their bodies to singe the air around them. )
... Brother.
( Said slowly, carefully. The Velvet Nightmare hangs by Yazoo's side, his left hand ready. )
Gets comfortable like I never left, because I didn't 8')
( That he still feels Sephiroth's approach before he sees him is, by Yazoo's estimation, a reasonably good sign. Bitter air draws in heavy and close with a weight that crackles through every cell of his being; it calls to him, demanding obedience and reverence in equal measures now that he's in the presence of his maker. Does Sephiroth feel it, too? Would he be able to recognise it for what it is, even if he could? Yazoo's lips pull into a distressed pout as he briefly considers the fact that Sephiroth may still reject him yet—that he might not be ready to accept the truth of what he was wrought into being to do.
I won't escape.
A chill begins to worm its way down the length of the Remnant's spine. It was a mistake to do this without the support of his brothers, and it was a mistake not to quietly encourage Kadaj take the helm as he always does. Yazoo is no negotiator, nor does he hold within his memory enough information to belabour his points, but the idea of their brother remaining in Shinra's grasp for even a moment longer made it impossible for him to wait. Now all that remains it to see whether it's a mistake that will cost him his life.
He made himself easy to find, as requested. Yazoo turns to watch the final few feet of Sephiroth's approach; he looks different, seems somehow a little younger around the eyes, but Masamune gleams knowingly in his hand as the light slides over its gentle curve. His expression remains carefully impassive as he pins his brother with that feline gaze, that matching mako-green clashing between their bodies to singe the air around them. )
... Brother.
( Said slowly, carefully. The Velvet Nightmare hangs by Yazoo's side, his left hand ready. )
Do you know why I asked you to come here?