entrancelogs | Log 003 | Which way is up?

Entry tags:

Log 003 | Which way is up?

Who: Sephiroth & YOU [Open]
Where: Between Clinic and Room 051, 5th Floor.
When: Backdated to June 4th.
Rating: R
Summary: SCIENCE Event Fallout. Sephiroth wakes up in the Laborotory of the clinic. Even though this is exactly where he remembers passing out and despite being heavily under the effects of whatever sedative he was injected with last, he must get back to his room! Feel free to bump into him anywhere you can think of on route, though I do have three action prompts to follow in below comments as well.
The Story:
Beep, Beep, Beep

Sephiroth's eyes fell open rather than stirring, inside he'd been awake for a while already but he just couldn't will his eyes to open. His head feels entirely too heavy and his eyes ache as if they haven't seen light for a while. The world fuzzed out into bright white for a moment and then faded back into the colours they should be again.

He could see a green line dancing across a monitor, jumping in time with the beep. He watched that line, fancied that he could see past it, into the bright green and fathom why it danced that way and why so bright. Bouncing along as it did, like the beat of a drum. The same drum that sharply drew itself into his focus just then, so that he could hear pounding in his own head.

Life monitoring equipment.

That sure woke him up. Sephiroth jumped bolt upright on the examination bed he'd spent the last couple of days on, rapidly eyeing all the various equipment as his pulse also started to race harder. All the vines stretched out to him, lines like ethereal spiders legs; touching him, sampling him, invading him. Some sensors with their sticky pads on his skin, but more than a couple he could see were feeding him something. There were needle holes of various freshness on the inside of his arms, the outside of his arms. He swore he could feel the prickling of some at his neck as well, and just what was he doing with the odd scar in various states of healing here and there on his torso anyway. There was even one following an artery up his wrist a little, he could feel it under the white dressing that was taped to his arm.

He physically shuddered, and instantly started to feel nauseous. The room didn't quite feel all there as he went systematically pulling sensor pads off, ripping intra-venous lines out as if they were the worst thing in the world. No, this whole scenario is the worst thing right now. He couldn't feel any of it, his body felt numb.

Thinking about it just isn't on the cards right now. Sephiroth's thoughts are all over the place. Distracted by the green line as it flatlines, then by the way the drip lines were leaking fluid onto the floor. How the holes in his arms that he'd pulled lines out of were throbbing, a single trickle of blood overflows and he watches it travel over the surface of his skin before dripping through fingers. Fascinated. It'd stop on it's own soon.

Once free, he was determined to stand and instantly sat back down on the bed. He tried again, stook two steps forward before falling back again, his one black feathered-wing instantly manifest in an attempt to help hold his balance. Knocking a nearby metal trolley flying in the process.

Got to get out here, now. He thought though had to think it three more times before his body would respond. Sephiroth wandered clumsily through the clinic and out into the Mansion, ignoring all who might be in there watching. Bandaged in places, precisely scarred in others. In plain jogging bottoms only with a limp silver braid at his back and a black feathered wing that was struggling to hold even itself up properly. Occasionally it would molt a few feathers in his wake as tried to remember the way back to his room.

Why do all the Hallways look the same in this place?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Sephiroth has stopped in the Entrance Hall (he got real far!). He was just navigating his way from one insanely similar marble pillar to the next, stopping at each to prepare himself for the voyage to the next one. Trying to work his way towards where he thinks the stairwell is.

Then he looked up at the skylight and carefully drew himself away from a pillar to stand directly under it. It's so pretty and blue. So impossible as well, he knows there are floors above it.

It starts slowly, but he begins to turn around and around while gazing up at it. Making the dome spin in his mind. Black feathered wing beats every now and again, as if the motion might make him airborne on it's own. Which it doesn't, even though it appears he thinks it does, reaching his arm up towards the dome as if to touch it.]

[Being locked away in her room for most of the previous night into the next day was starting to make her anxious. She was expecting for Henry to come back to her room, but when that didn't happen, she felt obligated to check his room. She knocked, but with no answer, she took to searching the mansion. She was worried, and with justified reason. She couldn't take back what she said now, but she needed to find him to further explain things.

Entering the Entrance Hall, she stopped. She wasn't quite sure what she was witnessing at first, but when she took a better look, she was fairly surprised. This man, with a wing protruding from his back, was just spinning. In circles. Over and over again. She wasn't quite sure whether she should have stopped him. He seemed almost in a trance but after a moment, she almost felt obligated to say something.]

Hello? Are you alright?

[It was then that she noticed the slick lines of dried blood on his arms. What had happened to his man?]

Edited 2013-06-10 02:53 (UTC)

[At first Sephiroth doesn't seem to hear, or even register that he's being watched. He just turns around and around on the spot, not even blinking up at the skylight.

When he did register her voice after a moment or so delay he did stop to try and look. But the room didn't, Sephiroth swayed violently with the obvious dizziness brought on by what he'd been doing. The impression of the skylight flaring like a ghost in front of his vision everytime he blinked.

Similar to how a inexperienced puppeteer might made a puppet dance, and leaving a trail of feathers in his wake Sephiroth stumbled eventually over into one of the marble columns and collided with it with an accompanying 'ooph', gripping as far around the structure as he could. Waiting for the world to stop spinning first.]

[At first she watched him worriedly until he stopped. Knowing what was going to happen next, she gave him enough room for him to grab onto the column before coming to his side, resting a hand on his shoulder opposite of the wing.]

My son used to do that all the time when he was little. The room will stop spinning shortly.

[It was the only thing she could think to say, considering she didn't know the man. Admittedly, her gaze kept going back to the wing, but only for a mere first seconds at at time.]

[Sephiroth's shoulder flinches as soon as he's touched, but on account of his state currently it's barely anything notable; it would have been a much larger movement if someone had invaded his space like that and directly touched him unannounced. The wing on the opposite side of him raises a little as if it might have tried to help him get away in a hurry but again, it's much too heavy to even fold properly into his back currently.

He tries to shake some of the dizziness away but only ends up nearly smacking his head on the pillar as well. His dazed looking, though no less vibrant green eyes regarding Regina frantically. He's more than a little confused at the strange woman who for some reason was standing there.]

Ugh...

[It's not slowing down though, in fact the spinning feels as if it's shaking right through every fiber in his body now and it's making him feel sick. He can't be sick now, besides the fact there isn't any food to come up, he must make himself have a better handle on this situation.

Breaking his gaze on Regina, he slides himself down the pillar slowly into a knelt position as his breathing starts to speed up with the effort of not letting the nausea take over.]

[She gave him room to move as needed. This was far from just the standard case of the dizzies, and it brought her curiosity to a new level when she saw just how disoriented he had become. She waited until he knelt down before bringing herself to his level. She noticed his breathing and feared what might come if he continued with the pattern.]

Deeper breaths, my dear. You keep at that pace and you'll only pass out.

[Hallways and stairwells all look the damn same.

He's sure he's already walked down this Hallway before, same as he told himself he's already climbed that last set of stairs before.

Sephiroth is near convinced that he tried that door before as well and it opened the same way, but why then did he think it was his room again? 51. He's sure it says 51.

His body is starting very distantly to ache but he's assuming that it's just the after effects of the experiment. But damn he has never had side effects like this from anything before. Even so, it doesn't stop him from tripping over his own feet into walls, paintings and doors as he continues to try to find his room]

[ In his current state, Sephiroth likely didn't appreciate the whistling that suddenly sounded out just behind him. Should he turn back to look at its source, he'd see someone standing there that he could be fairly certain wasn't there a moment before. Short in stature (a child?), clad in red and gray armor and a yellow scarf, his eyes hidden behind dark glasses, the mysterious figure folds his arms, flashing a playful grin. ]

You look like you've seen better days.

Edited 2013-06-07 05:37 (UTC)

[He's very nearly sent a odd-looking sculpture flying by stumbling into it. He'd tried to aim that latest stumble, ungraceful as it was, towards a wall as at least that was solid but no, he's now hugging the sculpture between his arms. Half trying to regain his balance, half trying not to drop it.

Strange whistling had to be his overactive imagination. But then Sephiroth clumsily makes a hand swipe gesture in the direction of the strange, small guy in the red armor that's appeared in the corner of his vision. Though the momentum causes him to turn a little with the motion as well; it's a miracle he doesn't actually fall with the accompanying sway of the corridor. Clearly, this has to be an hallucination now as well. These symptoms are certainly not getting any better any time soon.]

Hilarious. Get lost out of my head already.

[His tone of speech isn't exactly slurry like a drunken word be, more like it's coming across as distant.]

Hmm.

[ The grin slowly disappears from his face. While he didn't have any firsthand experience, it was fairly common knowledge that hallucination is nearly always a side effect of something relatively serious, whether it be a high level of intoxication or some other manner of delirium - and he didn't seem to be drunk, if his pale complexion and visible wounds weren't enough indication of that. If Sephiroth had reason to believe he was a hallucination, it wasn't safe for him to be stumbling along by himself. ]

Here. You can hold on to my shoulder. Don't worry; I may look small, but I'm strong enough to carry you.

[ He steps closer and extends an arm to Sephiroth, offering him some stability. ]

[He's looking at Protomans' reflection in a nearby mirror rather than Protoman himself now, if that's any more of an indication. Sephiroth doesn't even realize he moved his head the last time he blinked. He manages to get the sculpture balanced back on itself before turning a little towards the mirror.

He reaches a hand out towards the reflection, then narrows eyes as he see's his own hand reflected - before turning in the right direction of the little guy and reaching dazedly in that direction. At least if he is an hallucination, he'll end up on the floor soon enough.]

Bet you're not even real...

I'm real. I doubt that will be enough to convince you, though.

[ Protoman leans into Sephiroth's grasp, offering himself as something sturdy to steady himself on. He feels cold and rigid - quite different from the soft, warm yield of flesh that one would expect - and barely budges at all, even if put under Sephiroth's full weight. ]

Everything is perception - if I'm not real, and you're so far into hallucination that you can use me for support... you're probably so far gone that nothing you're experiencing is real at all. Well, either way, you might as well let me help.

[ Not exactly reassuring words, but Protoman hopes he at least has a point. ]

[Protoman will take as much of Sephiroth's weight as his falling away from the sculpture will give. At least, until Sephiroth realizes a few seconds later that he's leaning almost completely on the small, armored guy and after a few failed attempts takes more of his own weight back onto his own feet.]

That - [He wets his lips a few times before continuing.] - would be assuming I have no-

[grip on reality He would have said. Though Sephiroth grunts as he gets his foot twisted the wrong way under that last step and lurches off to the wall haphazardly.]

[ Reacting quickly, Protoman darts underneath Sephiroth, managing to catch him before he goes tumbling away. He makes a conscious effort to cushion Sephiroth's impact on his arms, which would otherwise be as rigid and hard as the wall or the ground beneath. ]

Settle down. Don't push yourself.

[ He helps Sephiroth back to his feet, keeping a firm grip. Whatever Sephiroth had gone through, it must have been horrific - but even in that state, it seemed like he was reluctant to accept help. Protoman can't help but relate a little, at least to Sephiroth's stubborn independence. ]

What happened to you?

It was-

-experiment

[Sephiroth takes the help back to his feet but he doesn't really have much other choice in the matter considering where Protoman has placed himself. He doesn't start to move forward again though, waiting for the hallway to stop twisting first. His smoldering black feathered wing open a little as if to help with the balance.]

He's all too aware that this is mostly his own fault.]

- it's not important now. It'll be fine.

[He doesn't sound so convinced. If he'd just stand for a minute to get his focus. Standing is more like swaying though as he clings to Protoman a little to try and center his balance on the spot. He hates this feeling of dependency towards another, perhaps even more than he hates his current state- it's visible enough from the scowl plastered across his face.]

An experiment? Carried out by who?

[ Protoman briefly considers asking whether or not Sephiroth had been a willing participant in such experiments, but judging from how he was stumbling aimlessly though the hallways alone, it seems unlikely that he was. ]

Hey, come on. You should let me help you get to where you're going. I don't plan on sticking around after that.

[ Protoman knows all too well the discomfort behind accepting help that Sephiroth is barely concealing, and he hopes that he's able to convey his understanding. ]

[Sephiroth still manages to throw Protoman somewhat of a warning look. He doesn't want to talk about the experiment. Not now, not ever. Not to anyone ever.

He sways again, convulses once and then blinks hard. The corners, where the walls meet the floor now appear straight again. He should carry on trying to get to his room.]

Which floor is this? I lost track.

[ Protoman goes silent once Sephiroth glares at him in response to his query. He lowers his head slightly in understanding, a reflected shine traveling over his glasses. ]

We're on the fourth floor.

[ Looks like this experiment business is something he's going to have to look into himself. No matter - he works best alone, anyway. ]

Where is it that you need to go?

[What a strange little guy, what is he anyway some sort of robot? He tries to think about how the armor feels under his grip but this just draws attention dangerously away from his surroundings. Sephiroth very nearly swoons with nausea but stops himself by concentrating on the hallway again.]

Again?

[His eyes narrow suspiciously. Damn Mansion playing with his perception, it has to be.]

I've been on this floor already. It can't be the fourth floor. It needs to be the fifth.

You probably miscounted in the state you're in. Here, I'll take you up the stairs. It's not far.

[ Protoman begins to move, hoisting Sephiroth by the shoulder should he be allowed, making his way back toward the stairwell. Depending on how much of Sephiroth's senses have returned, he may notice odd, quiet noises coming from Protoman's frame - the subtle hiss of shocks, the low whooshing of hydraulic fluids - which would quickly confirm his "robot" hypothesis. ]

What's the number of the room you're looking for?

I'll find-

[Sephiroth's senses are somewhat all over the place. Sometimes one sense sharpest out of all of them, other times all of his senses are fuzzy. On occasion he finds himself distracted by the loudness of the noises coming from his mechanical help.

Was he supposed to be making noises like that? Sephiroth doesn't trust them.]

-I'll find the room. Just-

-stairwell.

[Reluctantly helped by the little robot. though sometimes out of his own stubbornness Sephiroth will insist on attempting a couple of steps himself. More often than not it results in a severe balance over-calculation and with him the opposite side of the hallway they are heading down back towards the stairs. Some people won't be helped.]

[The door is wide open and from the doorway Sephiroth can be seen, collapsed face down just two steps shy of the bed. He's in his room now, mostly plain as it is with it's little weights/punching bag area off in the corner.

He starts to shudder more, as his cells begin now to fight to break down whatever shouldn't be inside him. His black wing molting much heavier, feathers looking more like clumps of smoke on the floor leading from the door into the room.

He wants nothing more than to close his eyes and sleep now but can't. That's the drugs talking and that's what his body is trying to fight off, sleeping would be a bad thing to do right now. He might not wake up from it.

The shaking will eventually escalate into more of a twitching fit, close to what earthlings would associate epilepsy with. Sephiroth's body is doing what his cells are supposed to, though lets hope the cocktail of drugs in his system doesn't convince them to abort. Or worse, mutate.]

[ The first thing Vincent sees as he slips through the hallways is a trail of dark feathers. There's something familiar about them, and the way they dissolve like smoke when he nudges them with his boot offers a big clue. Curious and faintly troubled, given the way things seem to have been going this weekend, he follows the trail to the open doorway and peers in. What he sees is certainly not what he expects, and he lingers in the doorway for several moments, just looking at Sephiroth, sprawled there.

He hesitates, wondering if he should intervene or not, but... he can see the bandages, and there is a tell-tale red mark in the crook of Sephiroth's outstretched arm. It wouldn't be right to just leave. ]

... Sephiroth...?

[ Vincent calls the man's name softly, as he steps into the room, sweeping carefully around a pile of feathers and that molting wing to bend down next to him. He reaches out his hand to touch Sephiroth's shoulder and frowns deeper when he can feel the SOLDIER shaking. Just what had been injected into him...? ]

.....ngh....

[Sephiroth registers the soft calling of his name, oddly sharp within the ringing and thumping rackets drowning out most other noises in his head. He responds with a flex of a hand which he had hoped would be a whole-arm movement instead, he had to try to get up. He couldn't be seen like this.

His efforts however, fail dramatically and he slumps down to the floor a little more as Vincent drew closer. His molting black wing smoking as if feathers inside it somewhere might be burning away.]

Shiny...[He utters dryly as his heavy eyes catch the gleam of Vincent's boots as he came around into his line of sight.

Muscle underneath skin flinches strongly as soon as Vincent touches him but that's the least of the problem. Not only is Sephiroth shaking uncontrollably, his skin is burning up and slick with sweat. Just like any other organism that needs to expel a poison, raising body temperature is the first step to fighting.

It becomes clear as well, the extent of the experiment. Up close it's easier to see the various scars at several stages of healing against pale skin, and the newer ones still somewhat freshly-dressed. These are too precise cuts to be normal injuries from fighting, and their positions are strategic. Not to mention the various needle holes littering his arms and the odd one on the side of his neck, as if they'd needed somewhere to stick a pin in and his arms had been worse at the time.]

[ Shiny...

Between Sephiroth's mannerisms, the shaking, the warmth and all the visual cues, Vincent only grows more worried. The fever, the scars, the bandages... Vincent cannot in good conscious leave Sephiroth like that, and he wonders if the man ran into the same doctor he did or if there was someone else in the mansion with the same.... experimenting spirit. ]

... let us get you in bed.

[ That seems to be the first logical step - if nothing else, the floor is not a particularly comfortable place to lie and heal, and besides Vincent imagines changing bandages and treating the fever will be easier with Sephiroth plopped on pillows instead of floor boards.

The way the man flinches, however, worries Vincent; he doesn't wish to add to the injuries by slicing with his claw. So, he leaves Sephiroth's side to move to the closet and retrieve clean bandages, antiseptic and so on - as well as a glove big enough and sturdy enough to fit over his claw. Setting everything up by the bed, he then puts on the glove and comes back over to Sephiroth, carefully doing his best to pick the man up and move him over to the bed. Of course, whether Sephiroth would cooperate remains to be seen... ]

Wha-

[It's so comfy just lying on the floor, but Vincent is right the bed would be better. Though he wonders why the swooshing red mass with the shiny boots is offering such good advise. He's seen this swooshing mass somewhere before- is he dreaming now?

Sephiroth continues to shake and molt smoking feathers as Vincent turned away to use his closet though by the time he turns back he's managed to get elbows and a knee underneath himself and while suffering deep muscle spasms from the effort seems to be supporting his own weight. The dissolving black monstrosity trying to spread itself open as if it might assist but only managing the smallest movement.

That swooshing red mass had walked out of the room, he could have sworn it. Why should he take sympathy after all; Sephiroth is more than aware that this is entirely his own fault. The reactionary flinch at the unexpected contact nearly swoons him into eating floorboard before he's helped unsteadily to his feet and those two floundering steps over to the bed. The wing finally dissolves away, dropping the remaining plumes onto the floor, in the seconds before he makes to break away from Vincent and spin-crashes onto his back on the bed.

Each muscle in his torso argues with the motion as Sephiroth stretches out to his fullest, his head lolls over the opposite end of the bed. It relieves the pounding a little, makes it easier to hear, he takes deep gulping breaths as if it makes it easier to breathe as well (it doesn't, it's in his head). How strange it would be to walk on the ceiling. It would be like this all the tim-]

Argh...

[He shudders more in a spasm-like fashion as the blood to his head then turns and makes him feel worse, then makes a dizzying attempt to curl himself up from that position and get his head on a pillow.]

[ Vincent watches Sephiroth flail for a moment and then carefully steps around the dissolving feathers. ]

Move slowly...

[ He cautions Sephiroth before reaching forward to gently help him flop more onto the pillow instead of hanging half off the bed. Once the former SOLDIER is settled, Vincent begins to look over his injuries. ]

This will sting...

[ And that's more or less all the warning he gives before he starts cleaning as best he can, applying the antiseptic as he goes (that is, of course, if Sephiroth lets him). He will eventually do what he can with a cure materia but in his experience even curaga is no substitute for hygiene and the body's natural healing, especially when drugs and poisons are involved. ]

[Sephiroth doesn't notice the additional help, he's much too busy squirming around trying to prop himself up so he isn't lying flat down. The room span dangerously in the moment he rested his head on the pillow for the first time.

Once settled a little more, he watches Vincent. Confused, frowning lightly though one eyebrow more raised than the other. He has to be dreaming already; his eyes droop a little heavier but he always manages to catch himself from nodding off. Besides-]

I don't-

[He stops. Like LIQUID FIRE on one of those holes that an IV left. One of the more bloody ones that has been ripped open again and again on his exploits trying to get to his room. He stares then at the hole and the trail of blood it's left over and over down his arm, as if trying to figure out why it hurts so much.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Log 003 | Which way is up?

Prompt 1 - Entrance Hall

Re: Prompt 1 - Entrance Hall

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Prompt 2 - Hallways and Stairwells (& any room on route)

Re: Prompt 2 - Hallways and Stairwells (& any room on route)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Prompt 3 - His Room. Floor 5, Room 051

/o/

no subject

no subject

no subject

:c man I've been terrible this week about lagging on tags

no subject