OPEN POST; [ SEPHIROTH / FFVII ]

[supersoldier]

those chosen by the planet.

(( despite the ominous choice of music i default to a pre-nibelheim canon point, but can play post-nibelheim upon request! ))

Comments

[velvetshot]

( Don’t call me that.

It shatters something deep within him to hear Sephiroth say it in person. Yazoo feels immediately unmoored: some small part of him had been clinging on to the possibility that meeting him in the flesh would right this wrong, but there isn't so much as a glimmer of recognition in that familiar-but-not visage. There's something—curiosity, maybe, or a twisted kind of fascination—but it isn't enough to make him understand what Yazoo's trying to tell him. )

But that's what you are. ( Said softly, matter-of-factly, as though speaking to a child. ) We're the same, you and I. Made from her to serve her will.

( Yazoo turns towards the crater. It calms him somewhat: a tangible reminder that for all Sephiroth may have forgotten who he is, Mother still lives within him. Surely it can only be a matter of time before he realises that he isn't simply different, he's chosen )

Her legacy begins here.

( A cool look slants back over his shoulder, his expression otherwise unreadable. )

This is where Mother first touched Gaia. It's where our destiny was designed.

[supersoldier]

[Though Sephiroth’s demeanor is undaunted by default, rarely even quavering when faced with the alien, uncertain, or immense, he cannot find the same comfort in their surroundings as Yazoo. There has always been something unearthly about the Northern Crater, a yawning wound battered into the terrain. He has never been this close before, but seeing it loom so high above, it strikes him as a sight frozen in time, a creature caught mid-death.

He cannot imagine the tremors that shook the earth when the meteor struck it ages ago. What would it have looked like, to watch that manner of hellfire come careening down from the sky? It’s the same reason why he cannot reconcile the other’s explanation, as though fastening the idea of such cataclysmic force to the notion of “mother” is too paradoxical. Far too jarring, regardless of the sense it doesn’t make.

His eyes remain on Yazoo‘s back as he turns away.]

Stop speaking in riddles. This is the sight of a meteor impact, one that fell thousands of years ago.

[He steps forward, ignoring the vibrations resonating between them like a strummed wire.]

Your timeline is off, regardless of how non-sensical that explanation is.

[velvetshot]

It isn't a riddle.

( Yazoo's tone gives nothing away. He's always been the least readable of Sephiroth's Remnants: cool, detached, and calculating in a way that Loz and Kadaj couldn't relate to or understand. Tipping his hand too soon would be a mistake. Yazoo doesn't want Sephiroth to find a way in just yet—doesn't want to be picked apart before he knows what he's dealing with—and so he keeps his expression blank and his tone level as he lifts a hand towards the jagged side of the crater. )

We're both right. It brought her here.

( Those bright eyes slide shut for a moment as Sephiroth moves closer. Yazoo feels the resonance of energy between them pulling tighter, rippling harder, and when he opens his eyes again they gleam brighter for it. A thread of biting cold air whips at liquid silver as he tilts his head towards him again: )

This planet was supposed to be hers, but she had to wait. ( His gaze turns sharp again. ) For you. Her perfect son.

( This time a hint of envy laces his inflection, but he banishes it as quickly as it came. )

Don't you feel different to the others? To the humans who use you for their own gain?

[supersoldier]

[He’s asked if he feels different from those around him, a question rather unwieldy in his mind, coming from someone who looks so much the same. Closer now, and he can see the finer way the breeze picks up the man’s hair, fashioned in the exact same shade of silver as his own. His frame, his stature, even a demeanor that would be utterly distant if not for the resonating, alien familiarity between them.

And those bright eyes, which he once believed could belong to none other than himself, peering at him as though they had been stolen — keen and knowing.

It’s enough to wring out a reply from Sephiroth, where he would typically deflect. For Yazoo speaks of a subject that can tear him raw if he is not careful, the questioning of his differences an old insecurity, buried so deep that it will rend everything to pieces if it’s dredged up without care.

His jaw sets.]

I’ve always been different. [To the humans who use you for their own gain? The clear differentiation claws at him.] But that does not make me inhuman.

[He shores himself up with logic, bending itself into something steady in the wake of what he’s hearing.]

That’s what you’re saying, isn’t it? That this “Mother” is something from beyond this Planet? Tell me about her, if you're so certain.

[velvetshot]

Hm.

( Another shadow of a frown touches the corners of Yazoo's lips. It's baffling that Sephiroth is working so hard to cling to the idea of his alleged humanity: why would he want to be like the rest of them? Why would he value being different yet the same over being different and superior? Not that it matters all that much, of course: Sephiroth may be living in a state of ignorance, but ignorance can't alter the truth. )

Kadaj understands her best.

( Yazoo tilts his head, rolls his shoulder in a shrug. It doesn't seem to bother him all that much: the Remnants weren't made to ask questions, nor to pick apart what information they were or weren't given by their maker, and the fact that Kadaj both knows the most and makes their decisions seems nothing less than natural to him. )

He knows things I don't. Things you taught him, about her.

( A pause. )

But you're right. She came from somewhere far, far beyond this place.