animus_network | [S1727002: Text] & [Open

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[S1727002: Text] & [Open - Action: Fl 3]

[A single word against S1727002 appears on the network.]

Why?

[Sephiroth has been sat in the Library, staring somewhat blankly at the ticking countdown permanently visible, for several hours already. He wears his signature leather attire except for that he's substituted his leather trench and armor for his loose grey vest that he usually frequents the gym in. The reason is obvious should anyone come close enough to where he is sat; his left forearm is rested up on the table next to where the keys are, tightly bound in fresh dressing which hasn't long been sourced from the Infirmary. Occasionally he flexes the fingers, but not very much.

As if he hasn't been through enough, it seems Ruana couldn't even bring him back totally in one piece and the rip along a tendon of his forearm isn't even healing as quickly as it's supposed to, even if it is under Glamour. He's not too sure of the extent of the accidental damage, either. It's not like he'll be fighting as effectively for a while.]

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Let's see. You pulled a stunt that made Zo seal himself away for a while with how upset you made him. If you think something like that wouldn't have some kind of permanent consequences, you're wrong.

[It's really hard to resist saying 'because you had it coming, you moron', but she holds off.]

[The reply comes slowly as he has to type with his right hand only. He's ambidextrous enough it's just- slower.]

Not looking for sympathy.

[And really he wasn't. The question goes as deep as his oddly hollowed out, near melancholy mood since he got back.

Meanwhile peering at Yukiko's user ID trying to imagine who this might be. He never has made a habit of figuring out everyone and labelling them.]

I wasn't offering it. I was stating a fact: pissing off the admins is generally not a good idea, and will have some kind of consequences.

Simply put. It wouldn't have mattered.

You really don't get it, do you?

[He'll just sit and stare at those words for a few minutes. Unblinking and burning them into his retinas.

It hurts more than he's prepared to process yet. A memory echoes in his mind.]

Get what?

You're responsible for your own actions, and if those actions have consequences, you have to live with them. Asking 'why', when the answer is right there in front of you, is pointless.

I'm not so naive to expect otherwise.

It's not that 'why' that I was looking for an answer to.

Because your common sense is at depths so low that 'idiot' and all its synonyms used at once in a single sentence would not even form a point sharp enough to place a scratch upon the denser-than-osmium block sitting atop your shoulders under that overgrown peroxide-soaked carpet.

Because said denser than osmium block you call a 'head' is so far up your ass you never for a moment considered the level of stupidity your actions reached for was so astronomical as to outstrip the height of the very helltower you planned to escape. One could lay out all the individual hydrogen atoms in every world from end to end and still not be able to measure the heights of idiocy you carry every day of your waking life.

Because, Sephiroth. Any genius plan you might devise will inherently have the glaring flaw of you having the severe mental deficiency of sociopathy and raving madness. A league of professional psychologists couldn't solve that, and I hope one or several gods have mercy on any that might try or have tried before.

Kindly go fuck yourself.

Then why are you asking?

If you don't know, then the question wasn't for you.

Edited 2014-04-04 23:40 (UTC)

Either way, the answer's probably the same: because you brought it upon yourself. You don't get to hurt people forever without something happening to hurt you. That's not the way the world works.

And I am done. I'm done with the mind games, I'm done with being turned into something I'm not just because you can't get enough of messing with me. I am done with you and your crap.

It's over.

It's almost a pity there wasn't anything there to end.

[There won't be a response. She meant it when she said she was done, and has since walked away from the terminal.]

[For a very long time, Sephiroth sits and stares at the veritable wall of text that he's presented with in reply. Reading it over and over yet not being able to engage himself into taking a small hint of insult from it. That spark of anger that's usually so hot and ready to explode has been saturated.

They are only words on a screen. He knows it's Waver from the tone, but however he's trying to make Sephiroth feel with it just isn't connecting.

In fact Waver will find that there isn't even a reply until the next time he checks the terminal.]

I'd rather not.

Because you deserved it.

[There. That's what she's been waiting to say since she came back to life. Living is good.]

What did you do while I was missing from the Tower?

[Nesir has laid low since waking up from death. She has a scab on her chin from where she wouldn't stop bleeding for a while. She looks for Sephiroth once she sees the network post, but it takes a little while for her to find him and when she does she just stands behind him, taking in his appearance. He looks... less powerful than when she saw him last.

Whereas she looks stronger, obviously, without his taint affecting her]

I do no be knowing whether to be being more angry that you did be dragging me into your plan or that you did be failing.

Not debating that fact.

[It all feels so very hollow now that his victory has been driven to the background.]

I got out.

[Relatively speaking he's still powerful, but it's all back to being subject to Glamour so there is the fact that all of his power is illusionary based again. Clearly it's not even a fraction of the power that Nesir would have felt in his presence last time, right before he intended to leave.

The Glamour still grants him his heightened senses, though he doesn't acknowledge the fact that Nesir moved to stand behind him. Only a twitch to his disabled left fingers within the tight bandage while his eyes remain locked to the monitor in front of him.]

Be both, be neither, it's up to you.

[His voice is a low whisper, though lacking most of the self-confident tone that she's used to hearing.]

At least you understand that then.

Does that make you feel better?

No

In fact I still feel like shit. Being brought back to life isn't the same as it used to be.

I am a little satisfied that you died too though.

No it certainly is not.

Death was inevitable.

[Indeed, he had to have gotten out somehow. What was death if not purging his Vessel.]

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