ext_260386 ([identity profile] walking-complex.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] paixaorpg2006-01-21 08:54 pm

Weapons and stuff. [Closed/Complete]

Character(s): Hojo and Sephiroth
Content: Buh? Sephiroth?
Setting: In and around Folios, the weapon shop
Time: Saturday Afternoon
Warnings: None as of yet

Well, the city was just as large if not larger than it had looked from outside the gates. Hojo was starting to regret not taking the train, though he'd taken a look at the station and the machine looked anything but stable so he'd decided to take his chances on foot instead. He'd stashed his lab coat in his messenger bag in an attempt to look less conspicuous, though considering everyone in the town seemed to be dressed in Victorian style it was still difficult to bled in.

He stopped after a long while, thoroughly sick of walking. The city was gorgeous, though, he had to admit... even the grass sparkled, though he'd stopped to inspect it a while ago and discovered that it was completely synthetic. Somehow he hadn't been surprised.

Hojo found a bench near what looked like a weapon shop and he made a note to go check it out once he wasn't quite so sick of walking. For now, though, he just started digging through his bag, double-checking to make sure he hadn't broken anything when he landed that morning.

[identity profile] seared-god.livejournal.com 2006-01-22 05:56 am (UTC)(link)
Sephiroth took in the willowy scientist before him with an analytical eye. He looked different than he remembered... Less hunched, with more of a youthful bearing, his face less haggard and work-strained from all the sleepless nights.

Oh yes, he had heared whispers in the Lifestream. Whispers and murmurings that Hojo was the one who made him what he was - that Hojo referred to himself as his "father". He sneered outwardly at the memory. That some wretched scientist - this wretched scientist in particular, should call himself the father of Sephiroth. He was deified now; he had gone farther than even he thought he could go, and none of them could control him any more. And what's more, he would make sure that they knew that fact, and rejoice in educating them.

"You don't recognise me." He intoned softly. "Well, I could understand that. After all, it is hard for mortal eyes to comprehend the likeness of a God." He felt no qualms in divulging his personal deified view of himself to someone such as Hojo - he would most likely meet his demise by Sephiroth's hands in the fullness of time, and there was nothing he could do with the knowledge other than spread it - which would only aid him in his plans.