I. The City / The Temple [As always, Sephiroth stands out. At 6'7", he towers over most people, and that long silver hair hangs loose almost to his knees. He doesn't have his usual mode of dress, but the plain robe he's been given is still nothing like the fine clothes of the city dwellers. That part irks him; he doesn't like that someone else dressed him, or that this marks him as one of the so-called 'Travellers.' Later, once he's convinced of this reality, he might look into finding something else. For now, he'll live with it.
He walks the streets with a frown, not entirely convinced yet that any of this is real. It would make more sense for it to be a dream than what he's been told. Some unknown city in another realm? Chosen by the Ancients? Surely it's something his mind invented. He isn't prone to such vivid flights of fancy, but... He doesn't know of anything with the power to transport him between worlds. It's not something ascribed to the Ancients, and they're extinct anyway.
Eventually his wandering brings him to the domed temple in some quiet district. He stands staring for a moment at the crude effigy. It certainly has as much meaning as anything in a dream. Which is to say, none.]
II. The Play [By now it's been several days. Sephiroth hasn't slept yet--that isn't unusual for him--but since this is no dream and there is no simple way back, then he's going to have to at some point. The temples... he doesn't care for them. He doesn't understand faith, and he doesn't trust the invitation of those empty beds. He has no intention of being so compliant.
Some other public space will have to suffice, though he's surprised admission to this theatre is free. He finds someplace to sit, near the back, out of the way, where he can go unnoticed once the lights dim and the play begins.
Only... the theatre remains largely empty. The lights dim, but there are no actors. He sits up, on alert, his Mako eyes glinting in the dark as he scans the theatre. This isn't normal.]
III. Lost Carcosa [Everything about this island and its city is unfamiliar, all evidence pointing to the notion that it really isn't any place on his Planet at all, but his mind balks at accepting that. He walks the coastline in hopes of finding... something. The constellations overhead are equally unfamiliar. Even the scent of the sea isn't quite right to him, lacking the Mako pollution of Junon's waters, though it might be something like Wutai's. Either way, there's no sailing away from this place back to a world he knows.
He comes upon the skull, and stops. Is it his mood that makes it seem to tug at him? Taunt him as though it knows something of past things he's lost? It may bring them to mind, but Sephiroth is well aware of someone else on this beach within earshot, and so he scoffs, moving on without a word.
And, of course, that's when the fog starts to come in.]
IV. Wildcard ((Feel free to hit me up with something else or contact me at yinza if you wanna plot something specific!))
Sephiroth | FF7 | OTA
[As always, Sephiroth stands out. At 6'7", he towers over most people, and that long silver hair hangs loose almost to his knees. He doesn't have his usual mode of dress, but the plain robe he's been given is still nothing like the fine clothes of the city dwellers. That part irks him; he doesn't like that someone else dressed him, or that this marks him as one of the so-called 'Travellers.' Later, once he's convinced of this reality, he might look into finding something else. For now, he'll live with it.
He walks the streets with a frown, not entirely convinced yet that any of this is real. It would make more sense for it to be a dream than what he's been told. Some unknown city in another realm? Chosen by the Ancients? Surely it's something his mind invented. He isn't prone to such vivid flights of fancy, but... He doesn't know of anything with the power to transport him between worlds. It's not something ascribed to the Ancients, and they're extinct anyway.
Eventually his wandering brings him to the domed temple in some quiet district. He stands staring for a moment at the crude effigy. It certainly has as much meaning as anything in a dream. Which is to say, none.]
II. The Play
[By now it's been several days. Sephiroth hasn't slept yet--that isn't unusual for him--but since this is no dream and there is no simple way back, then he's going to have to at some point. The temples... he doesn't care for them. He doesn't understand faith, and he doesn't trust the invitation of those empty beds. He has no intention of being so compliant.
Some other public space will have to suffice, though he's surprised admission to this theatre is free. He finds someplace to sit, near the back, out of the way, where he can go unnoticed once the lights dim and the play begins.
Only... the theatre remains largely empty. The lights dim, but there are no actors. He sits up, on alert, his Mako eyes glinting in the dark as he scans the theatre. This isn't normal.]
III. Lost Carcosa
[Everything about this island and its city is unfamiliar, all evidence pointing to the notion that it really isn't any place on his Planet at all, but his mind balks at accepting that. He walks the coastline in hopes of finding... something. The constellations overhead are equally unfamiliar. Even the scent of the sea isn't quite right to him, lacking the Mako pollution of Junon's waters, though it might be something like Wutai's. Either way, there's no sailing away from this place back to a world he knows.
He comes upon the skull, and stops. Is it his mood that makes it seem to tug at him? Taunt him as though it knows something of past things he's lost? It may bring them to mind, but Sephiroth is well aware of someone else on this beach within earshot, and so he scoffs, moving on without a word.
And, of course, that's when the fog starts to come in.]
IV. Wildcard
((Feel free to hit me up with something else or contact me at