middaeg | ( open ) i will never be

Who: Sephiroth and YOU!
When: Aereuer 13th
Where: The Looking-Glass House
What: Memshare event!
Warnings: N/A, will add when necessary.

[Sephiroth's mirror is framed in black, cut in clean, elegant lines that look as though they are sharp to touch. It is hard to perceive much else in such a dark color, not without peering closer, and strangers won't note anything odd. Those who know him better could see more: patterned lines interspersed throughout like the vanes and notches of feathers, and a long, curving katana carved into the bottom. The contour lines of a steely city, artfully hidden beneath the rest.

The wood is glossy, unmarred, and perfect to those uncaring. Spiderwebbing, barely-there hairline fractures are visible to closer CR. They shimmer at the right angle, so briefly that it might have been a trick of the light.]

((ooc; these memshare prompts are open to anyone unless specified otherwise! he'll just be more guarded about a few of the more personal ones if you're not close CR. if you want something specific, hmu at

aurajen! thanks!))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Ah, it is yet again This Small Child. Sephiroth doesn't know what might have compelled Will Henry to wander into his mirror — but he cannot say, either, that he has much of a grasp on his personality.

Still, curiosity grips everyone, eventually. Especially children. He isn’t surprised.]

It’s a game they wanted to play.

[Genesis usually being the one to propose it; the man had always found a way to turn everything into a challenge between them. They hardly ever said no.]

[ Will Henry tells him, point blank, ]

It was like a show at the circus. There's always a retired soldier with a big mustache doing tricks.

[A low noise, sounding like a "hmph" from the back of his throat.]

And is that a positive or negative critique of yours?

I've never seen it done with a saber before.

[ Sephiroth is welcome to think he's a child who is still enchanted by such things. Will Henry puts his hands in his pocket and wanders forward to look at the Masamune. The sword is longer than he is tall, and unlike any officer's saber he's ever seen. ]

It's always pistols.

[He is free to examine the memory-version of Masamune, with an apple still skewed through its steel and clattered to the ground behind the man in red.]

I don't use guns. [It’s far from his preference, though basic training had hammered their usage into his mind years ago. Eventually, his memory self wanders over, exchanging words with the other two men, and bends down to retrieve his sword. Its length seems even more comically long as he lifts it by the hilt, glinting in the faux light and with a fruit stuck to its end.]

That sword is what I’ve trained with for years.

Even I've used a gun.

[ He says this... so nonchalantly. But he does know that's actually not normal. He knows it wasn't normal for a little boy to be stalked by Russian spies and then to murder them at the end of the world. ]

["You're too young to have used a gun," would be the most hypocritical thing to come out of Sephiroth's mouth. Therefore, he says no such thing, and instead asking something altogether different.]

I meant that a sword is my preference. Firearms lack what I want.

Why did you have the need for a gun?

Monstrumology is dangerous.

[ He scuffs his shoe. He's probably a bit disillusioned now about his ability to scare Sephiroth off. He's a sword-wielding war hero, and not the drunk and washed up kind he had compared the man to. No, telling him about Monstrumology is probably not going to convince him to get out of their lives. ]

Monstrumologists die all the time. It's a big deal if you live past thirty, they throw a big party. Most of their parties get really out of hand. A lot of drinking and fighting and... [ Hah... oh boy... He doesn't want to talk about prostitutes with you. ] But Doctor Warthrop doesn't drink or fight or any of that. He always says things like, "Show me a man who cannot control his appetites, and I will show you a man living under a death sentence."

[ Scuff, scuff, scuff. He'd said that when they'd found Jacob Torrance almost decapitated. Jacob had almost made it to 30, until he got involved with Warthrop and Will Henry. ]

[He's right. This is far from enough to scare a man like Sephiroth off, but certainly enough to warrant a small amount of morbid concern. Sephiroth doesn't know the ins and outs of Monstrumology, of course, and the Doctor himself was not always the most approachable man to garner information from -- nor was Sephiroth much of the approaching type to start.

But Will Henry is offering up information, and he pursues it all the same.]

If it's so dangerous, then why do you do it? [A question too evenly-spoken to be critical. It's a genuine wonder.] Are you so fascinated by what you learn?

[Or does this young man hinge upon more upon the Doctor than the work?]

Didn't he tell you?

[ No, of course not. ]

My father was his assistant, until he died. Doctor Warthrop took me in after the fire.

[ He won't meet Sephiroth's gaze, just watching the dream soldiers mill about, slap each other on the back, make jokes. ]

I don't have anywhere else to go.

( open ) i will never be

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