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midnightdiddleErk. I might be writing... A FFVII drabble? *hides*
This is not my fault! I blame it upon the copy of Advent Children in my dvd player!
Sephiroth doesn't hate Cloud.
Of course, on that note, Sephiroth doesn't hate anything. He feels a cold derision, but no hate. At times, there is contempt, or even distaste, and sometimes fear, but no hate. Hate is something that is irrevocably human, and Sephiroth, in all his glory, is irrevocably not.
Not human, that is.
Instead, Sephiroth is something else. He's not quite entirely sure what, himself, but he is more. He is more what he is than any thing is. He is vengeance personified, perhaps. Or maybe he's perfection personified. Or maybe hate?
Except he doesn't feel hate.
He feels amusement, though.
He feels something, almost bubbling in his chest, spilling out in breaths that sound almost suspiciously like laughs. He is certainly amused, by the way Cloud is running, leaping and jumping and practically bouncing, from wall to wall.
In another light, this could all be hilarious. Cloud is like a hyper-active child, almost, and it's like the adage of 'bouncing off the walls.' Or is it 'climbing the walls'? Perhaps it's both?
Either way, Cloud is running, and he's hiding, through the gutted out building. The walls are like shells, breaking, more holes than substance, and the fact that Cloud is trying to put these flimsy things between him and Sephiroth makes Sephiroth almost laugh.
At least, he'd laugh, if he could laugh like humans.
But right now, Sephiroth isn't human. He's never been human, though.
He has a mission now, some higher and greater purpose, of vengeance. He'll rain down judgement on the world, and he'll perfect, through trial and fire. Everything will burn, and sins and imperfections and Cloud will be burned away. Skin will stretch tight, the way it does after it's burned, and there won't be room, beneath the skin, for imperfections to grow and boil and eat away on the inside.
And now, when he's chasing Cloud, it feels suspiciously like a game. He's running circles around Cloud, everywhere Cloud looks, and it's like the children games Sephiroth would see sometimes, from afar.
'Ready or not,' they used to scream, and Sephiroth is screaming it too, inside his head, behind tight skin that pulls his face back, that hides all his insecurities and shortcomings.
Ready or not, ready or not, ready or not, ready or not, not ready, I'm not ready, haven't been ready, never will be ready, ready ready ready or not, not ready-
It's like, Sephiroth decides, Hide and Seek.
And it is, Sephiroth decides, as fun as it had looked.
Here I come-
This is not my fault! I blame it upon the copy of Advent Children in my dvd player!
Sephiroth doesn't hate Cloud.
Of course, on that note, Sephiroth doesn't hate anything. He feels a cold derision, but no hate. At times, there is contempt, or even distaste, and sometimes fear, but no hate. Hate is something that is irrevocably human, and Sephiroth, in all his glory, is irrevocably not.
Not human, that is.
Instead, Sephiroth is something else. He's not quite entirely sure what, himself, but he is more. He is more what he is than any thing is. He is vengeance personified, perhaps. Or maybe he's perfection personified. Or maybe hate?
Except he doesn't feel hate.
He feels amusement, though.
He feels something, almost bubbling in his chest, spilling out in breaths that sound almost suspiciously like laughs. He is certainly amused, by the way Cloud is running, leaping and jumping and practically bouncing, from wall to wall.
In another light, this could all be hilarious. Cloud is like a hyper-active child, almost, and it's like the adage of 'bouncing off the walls.' Or is it 'climbing the walls'? Perhaps it's both?
Either way, Cloud is running, and he's hiding, through the gutted out building. The walls are like shells, breaking, more holes than substance, and the fact that Cloud is trying to put these flimsy things between him and Sephiroth makes Sephiroth almost laugh.
At least, he'd laugh, if he could laugh like humans.
But right now, Sephiroth isn't human. He's never been human, though.
He has a mission now, some higher and greater purpose, of vengeance. He'll rain down judgement on the world, and he'll perfect, through trial and fire. Everything will burn, and sins and imperfections and Cloud will be burned away. Skin will stretch tight, the way it does after it's burned, and there won't be room, beneath the skin, for imperfections to grow and boil and eat away on the inside.
And now, when he's chasing Cloud, it feels suspiciously like a game. He's running circles around Cloud, everywhere Cloud looks, and it's like the children games Sephiroth would see sometimes, from afar.
'Ready or not,' they used to scream, and Sephiroth is screaming it too, inside his head, behind tight skin that pulls his face back, that hides all his insecurities and shortcomings.
Ready or not, ready or not, ready or not, ready or not, not ready, I'm not ready, haven't been ready, never will be ready, ready ready ready or not, not ready-
It's like, Sephiroth decides, Hide and Seek.
And it is, Sephiroth decides, as fun as it had looked.
Here I come-
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Date: 2006-05-04 03:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-06 02:43 am (UTC)