[INCOMPLETE]
Who: Jenova, anyone (open).
When: sometime, idk.
Where: in an alleyway not far from ShinRa headquarters.
Rating: PGish; subject to change.
Warnings: Jenova being a douchebag and fucking with people's heads.
Summary: SHE GOT BORED, OKAY. DECIDED TO GO FOR A MIDNIGHT STROLL. ): WHAT IS SO WRONG WITH THAT.
She had been waiting to do it, biding her time, planning it since the moment she was locked behind the glass with its fragile walls and fragile ceiling.
Shattered with small touches here and there. Fell to pieces in her hands, and it had been easy enough, simple enough. The lab had been emptied for the first time in hours, and it hadn't been too hard to slip away -- unnoticed, all things considered. But she was small, wasn't she? Small and slender, and she had been able to leave the building without drawing any noticeable (or important, really) attention to herself. Small, slender, and she supposed that was one good thing about the humanoid form. One good thing amongst many bad, unfortunate things, and it would be dealt with, someday. Eventually. When she was stronger, had more strength, than she did.
She had slid right past them as she had exited the building. Right behind them, and one delicate hand had reached out to momentarily brush along Elena's shoulder. Comforting, soothing, but she was gone moments later, across the room, disappearing behind the mass of unrecognizable faces and bodies that shielded her from the truth. If Elena had turned at her touches, she wouldn't have seen anything, wouldn't have been able to really know she was there -- except she would have, wouldn't she? Because she could sense her, feel her, understand and complete her, and that was part of the connection. Part of the strong hold that kept her to her.
But, really, the citizens of Purgatorium didn't need her cells in order to connect with her. She felt and heard them all, every single one, and it was hard to ignore. Maybe if she wasn't herself, is she wasn't who she had always been, she would have avoided it. But Jenova always welcomed it. The knowledge. The intelligence and lessons gained. They were hers to keep, and she would grow, because she knew better. Knew better than to stop learning, stop understanding, because that would have caused her to crumble. Would have caused her end, and that would have been pointless. Worthless, wasteful.
Long fingers trailed along the brick of a building not far from ShinRa headquarters. There was a small pause, a bit of hesitation, and then she was sliding into the alleyway, dark and quiet and damp with rain. Those same fingers moved up to her hair, worked them through the long strands, and then she listened. Listened for the voices, the quiet and the meek ones, that spoke to her throughout the night, throughout the day. The ones she constantly heard, that she understood and realized. Always recognized, couldn't forget, because some of them were so distinct, so particular, so there. Whispers along an icy breeze that drifted over pale limbs, past eyes that saw and knew everything there was to know. Everything that she was allowed to see.
And the gods, well. Must have had a reason for bringing something that could not redeem herself, that did not have it in her to realize her wrongs. Must have had a reason for allowing her to be there. Must have had a reason. Some reason. Several, maybe, but it didn't matter. That was their mistake, wasn't it? Strike one, and she was teetering on the edge of strike two. Barely there, and breathed it in, existed and lived, and breathed, breathed. Oxygen in her lungs that forced her to move. Forced the words from her lips. And this city. A city. One city.
A city that did not sleep.
It was too bad that Jenova didn't, either.
When: sometime, idk.
Where: in an alleyway not far from ShinRa headquarters.
Rating: PGish; subject to change.
Warnings: Jenova being a douchebag and fucking with people's heads.
Summary: SHE GOT BORED, OKAY. DECIDED TO GO FOR A MIDNIGHT STROLL. ): WHAT IS SO WRONG WITH THAT.
She had been waiting to do it, biding her time, planning it since the moment she was locked behind the glass with its fragile walls and fragile ceiling.
Shattered with small touches here and there. Fell to pieces in her hands, and it had been easy enough, simple enough. The lab had been emptied for the first time in hours, and it hadn't been too hard to slip away -- unnoticed, all things considered. But she was small, wasn't she? Small and slender, and she had been able to leave the building without drawing any noticeable (or important, really) attention to herself. Small, slender, and she supposed that was one good thing about the humanoid form. One good thing amongst many bad, unfortunate things, and it would be dealt with, someday. Eventually. When she was stronger, had more strength, than she did.
She had slid right past them as she had exited the building. Right behind them, and one delicate hand had reached out to momentarily brush along Elena's shoulder. Comforting, soothing, but she was gone moments later, across the room, disappearing behind the mass of unrecognizable faces and bodies that shielded her from the truth. If Elena had turned at her touches, she wouldn't have seen anything, wouldn't have been able to really know she was there -- except she would have, wouldn't she? Because she could sense her, feel her, understand and complete her, and that was part of the connection. Part of the strong hold that kept her to her.
But, really, the citizens of Purgatorium didn't need her cells in order to connect with her. She felt and heard them all, every single one, and it was hard to ignore. Maybe if she wasn't herself, is she wasn't who she had always been, she would have avoided it. But Jenova always welcomed it. The knowledge. The intelligence and lessons gained. They were hers to keep, and she would grow, because she knew better. Knew better than to stop learning, stop understanding, because that would have caused her to crumble. Would have caused her end, and that would have been pointless. Worthless, wasteful.
Long fingers trailed along the brick of a building not far from ShinRa headquarters. There was a small pause, a bit of hesitation, and then she was sliding into the alleyway, dark and quiet and damp with rain. Those same fingers moved up to her hair, worked them through the long strands, and then she listened. Listened for the voices, the quiet and the meek ones, that spoke to her throughout the night, throughout the day. The ones she constantly heard, that she understood and realized. Always recognized, couldn't forget, because some of them were so distinct, so particular, so there. Whispers along an icy breeze that drifted over pale limbs, past eyes that saw and knew everything there was to know. Everything that she was allowed to see.
And the gods, well. Must have had a reason for bringing something that could not redeem herself, that did not have it in her to realize her wrongs. Must have had a reason for allowing her to be there. Must have had a reason. Some reason. Several, maybe, but it didn't matter. That was their mistake, wasn't it? Strike one, and she was teetering on the edge of strike two. Barely there, and breathed it in, existed and lived, and breathed, breathed. Oxygen in her lungs that forced her to move. Forced the words from her lips. And this city. A city. One city.
A city that did not sleep.
It was too bad that Jenova didn't, either.