005 | [Action Post]
The howling of the wind past the door and windowless half-building must have coincided with something in a dream, or at least only this can explain Sephiroth's sudden jolt from sleep. Not that sleep actually gets chance to develop into dreams much recently. The dull light informs Sephiroth that it's early morning, before the sun has risen properly. Either that or he's going slowly blind. He hopes it's the former.
He turns in a tangle of his own silver hair on the small cushion he'd found whilst out salvaging before sitting up. The leather poncho really has done him proud. It's done it's duty of keeping him warm enough to function. However spending night after night on a hard, stained from use, dusty mattress on a concrete floor whilst waiting for Jenova's 'plan' to come to fruition is starting to wear on his patience, not to mention constantly having to be half-awake at least in case of intrusion. He's not even sure why he feels the need to sneak around like he has been. Logic suggests he should just stand on the highest peak and proclaim his return to the world. Let them come, he'd deal with them as he'd dealt with everyone else that had ever stood in his way,
Well, everyone except one, Cloud. He whom Mother reckons she could break where Sephiroth had failed. What an insult that weighs heavy on his might right now but hey, he hadn't sent her to to his dirty work. He'd much rather do it himself. It was almost as if it was as much her revenge now as it was his. That would make sense though, right?
Sephiroth shuffles through the small trash bag of supplies he'd picked up a few nights ago now and decides that it would be best to save as much of what is left as possible now, as long as he never allowed himself to get -that- hungry again...ever.
The small room he's sheltered in is the remains of someone's living room, the celing collapsed over half of it just leaving the fireplace and a small area (mostly taken up by mattress) next to that. However as Sephiroth's eyes adjust with a flex of the pupil to the details in the room now he instantly spots something new. As if someone had just bought it for him and placed it there. It looked like his old SOLDIER gear but it couldn't be, it looked -newer- but there it was, draped over the nearby busted couch. One set of pauldrons, one leather trenchcoat and the standard cross-strap harness.
Mother...it could only have been her...
Once changed and feeling much more comfortable, Sephiroth heads out of the room and out into the windy day. It instantly lifts his long hair into flowing with the wind and even laps the ends of the leather coat just longer than his knees. A couple of minutes later he is no longer stood there, took off into the sky for a morning glide
((OOC: didn't mean to be that long, sorry...))
He turns in a tangle of his own silver hair on the small cushion he'd found whilst out salvaging before sitting up. The leather poncho really has done him proud. It's done it's duty of keeping him warm enough to function. However spending night after night on a hard, stained from use, dusty mattress on a concrete floor whilst waiting for Jenova's 'plan' to come to fruition is starting to wear on his patience, not to mention constantly having to be half-awake at least in case of intrusion. He's not even sure why he feels the need to sneak around like he has been. Logic suggests he should just stand on the highest peak and proclaim his return to the world. Let them come, he'd deal with them as he'd dealt with everyone else that had ever stood in his way,
Well, everyone except one, Cloud. He whom Mother reckons she could break where Sephiroth had failed. What an insult that weighs heavy on his might right now but hey, he hadn't sent her to to his dirty work. He'd much rather do it himself. It was almost as if it was as much her revenge now as it was his. That would make sense though, right?
Sephiroth shuffles through the small trash bag of supplies he'd picked up a few nights ago now and decides that it would be best to save as much of what is left as possible now, as long as he never allowed himself to get -that- hungry again...ever.
The small room he's sheltered in is the remains of someone's living room, the celing collapsed over half of it just leaving the fireplace and a small area (mostly taken up by mattress) next to that. However as Sephiroth's eyes adjust with a flex of the pupil to the details in the room now he instantly spots something new. As if someone had just bought it for him and placed it there. It looked like his old SOLDIER gear but it couldn't be, it looked -newer- but there it was, draped over the nearby busted couch. One set of pauldrons, one leather trenchcoat and the standard cross-strap harness.
Mother...it could only have been her...
Once changed and feeling much more comfortable, Sephiroth heads out of the room and out into the windy day. It instantly lifts his long hair into flowing with the wind and even laps the ends of the leather coat just longer than his knees. A couple of minutes later he is no longer stood there, took off into the sky for a morning glide
((OOC: didn't mean to be that long, sorry...))