( horizon )

[supersoldier]

EXTERIOR It’s nighttime, and the building before you is impossibly tall, made of dark steel dotted with exterior lights, illuminating the green glowing haze lingering in the air. Military vehicles pass along the street, unearthing themselves from an underground parking garage nearby, though their drivers appear faceless through the glass. The main entrance does not eschew visitors — the interior lights shine brightest through expansive glass doors, which will open for any who wander in.

LOBBY Corporate clean and modern, the lobby is shining, straight-edged, and ambient lit. It is a space that was clearly designed to comfortably host many people, though it is currently (and always) empty. Even the front desk is bulwarked by shining walls of security lights, with no one seated to greet newcomers. A massive set of stairs, one on each side, will lead a visitor upward. It is the epitome of subliminal space, and obviously meant to be traveled through, not loitered in.

CAFETERIA A half-formed cafe adjoining the lobby. You can sit, if you like, but there’s not much else to do. No food and drink being served, no ambient music to fill the space. Very little effort has been put into the creation of this area beyond functional construction, though the spotlit foliage is a nice addition.

STAIRWELLOne way or another, there’s a stairwell that loops up, and up, and up— for as far as the eye can see. The floors are numbered, and maybe those numbers climb higher; maybe they jump round, maybe they repeat themselves. Footsteps clang on metal, and resonate with each step. Surely, at some point, there’ll be an exit — and sometimes there is, a door appearing on one story or another, providing freedom. Sometimes, you just have to keep climbing.

You could go back down the other way, but even that feels like a feat of its own, depending on how far you’ve already journeyed.

VR TRAINING ROOMA training room with wide flooring and nondescript walls, made for sparring. There isn’t much here until, with a flicker of light, the scene erupts in a distinctly different palette of color. Atop the long length of an impossibly large cannon, or the square of a foreign city in a foreign nation, couched by trees. Sometimes it’s not a scene at all; sometimes, a monster greets you, instead.

PERSONAL QUARTERSLocked to all who find it, for the time being.

CODE BY MARWOOD | personal quarters artwork credit

Comments

[carmesi]

[she wanders into this horizon, the oppressive dark of night calling to her; lights glitter amidst it and the eerie green haze that permeates everything it touches. into the empty lobby with mirror-polished floors and the grandest of ceilings she's ever seen, wanda looks around in wonderment and awe. such lavish surroundings have never been part of her life.

it is all reason enough to feel like a stranger, but she continues despite herself—a shape of red that moves along, slowly, and careful yet about touching anything with her hands. from the lobby to the cafeteria, her eyes widen at the sight of the tree in the center, causing her to pause before heading towards it. wanda presses a hand against the glass, feels the coldness of it against her skin, and realizes just how cold she's felt throughout the entire place.

she walks around the glass confinement, a finger tracing a red line on the panes, making vines grow around the tree, exalting flowers that would never have bloomed otherwise, forcing a livelier green on the tree's leaves.]

[supersoldier]

[He was the only one present. His domain is new, compared to others who have made facsimiles of their homes here, but Sephiroth does not know how many more times he should facilitate visiting. The space is open and cold, as he remembers it to be, but lacking in people to tread across the polished floors, to fill the cafeteria and corridors and rooms with the murmuring of idle talk. He does not plan on inviting more Summoned here -- maybe it will suit him as an extra place to train or indulge himself in the familiar when Abraxas becomes overbearingly foreign. At worst, it was a waste of time.

Either way, it should remain silent and solitary, its default state. Its homeostasis. So when the sharp echo of footsteps resonates into the lobby (small strides, he thinks), ones that do not match the tempo of his own, he frowns. Moves to investigate, silver hair trailing behind him.

The vines strike him first, among everything. Flowers that should not exist blossom brightly, entangling in tree branches, and anything in this space that does not match the exact, very purposefully designed intent of its original space feels... off-kilter. Adding purpose where there was none.

(Did flowers grow this brightly back on Gaia? He cannot recall.)

Follow the trail of flowers, their eager blossoming, and his eyes land upon a woman. A stranger. Maybe he should have known better, that it was inevitable someone would wander in out of curiosity alone; maybe that's all the more reason to leave this place be, even if he were the one to have conjured it up out of nothing.]

...What are you doing?

[His voice cuts through the cold. Sephiroth stands at the top of the small set of stairs leading down into the space meant to house the cafeteria, unlively as it is.]

[carmesi]

[it's not unexpected to have the owner of this horizon show up, sooner or later, to come and inspect just whatever wanda is doing in their space. she does not guilty for making flowers bloom or shaping the path for vines to grow, but it does feel like she's been caught doing something that she shouldn't.

(also, isn't it wonderful to know that her magic works just fine within these spaces?)

she pulls her hand away from the glass soon as she hears the man's voice, turning her attention up towards the stairs, where she sees—glossy and blurred through the glass—a man standing tall with long hair. flowers continue to bloom for a moment longer before the red of her magic dispels entirely. wanda steps to the side, wraps her arms and hands under the red shawl she carries over her shoulders, all so that she can come into view, some feet away from the bottom of the stairs.

the man looks as cold as the rest of this place; impenetrable, intimidating, stoic and polished to a fault.]

This is yours. [stating the obvious, because, well, she can't really explain why she was doing what she was doing, which makes explaining what it was at all complicated...?] I have not been to a place like this before. It caught my eye.

[supersoldier]

[He watches her, unmoving as she approaches, as though he were made of carved stone. Her nearness confirms that she's not a face he recognizes, though it isn't surprising. It had been explained to him that all of the Summoned may wander across the Horizon freely, and not merely those belonging to the Free Cities.

Finally, his eyes wander to the encased tree a second time. The red wisps that existed moments before are gone now, and he assumes it had been some proof of her influence. Magic, maybe? Or her will, pressing into the shape of his own domain?]

It's a recreation of- [For how assuredly he began that statement, there is a hitch here. The idea is difficult to quantify. "Home" is too simple, feels too much like a permanent fixture of his spirit for a place that had begun to waver in his estimation of it.] -the company I work for. On my Planet.

[Eyes back to her, sharp and searching.]

There are more welcoming places to visit.

[Shinra headquarters is a hollow place with only two souls wandering its halls.]

[carmesi]

[the man pauses in his (generous) explanation of what the place is, giving wanda enough time to tilt her head to the side and ponder upon his answer. she looks about, curiously, the company i work for, and wonders just what that says about this individual in specific. given a chance to recreate a personal space, they go and choose to recreate... their workplace?

his voice breaks the silence, making it even more obvious how empty it all is, and wanda returns her attention to him, brows furrowed.]

I was not looking for welcoming.

[she gets the subtlety of it—to either explain why or to promptly leave his space, but wanda does neither, instead returning her attention to the tree in its glass encasing and walking towards it.]

'Welcome to Shinra.' [it said so in the lobby] Do you miss it?

[..work.........]

[supersoldier]

[He isn't certain if he had hoped for her to leave. He is not suited to play host, but there is nothing particularly offensive about her presence, either. He has nothing to hide here, and more private spaces are locked accordingly, small as they are, just a single room in the expanse of this entire building.

Sephiroth watches her back as she turns and crosses closer to the tree. A moment more and he follows suit, several steps behind, his footfalls light for how tall he is.]

That's a strange question.

[A roundabout answer for it, too.]

It's familiar to me. It's natural to create something accordingly. Didn't you do the same?

[carmesi]

[wanda supposes it makes sense that some people would find more familiarity in their work than they would in what constitutes their home. she has no room to make judgements, realizes that he didn't really answer her question at all. that much is fine, though, because she admittedly is not doing a very good job of answering his.

she turns her body three quarters of the way as he approaches, and wonders if she should be concerned about whether this man is dangerous or not. in the same way that she has no reason to trust him, she has no reason to mistrust him either.

her eyes linger on him.]

I suppose I did. [but familiarity lacks what she misses, and that's not something she can recreate at all—not again. she knows she shouldn't. wanda looks up, arms crossed.] Though the ceilings are not this high.

[taking a step to the side, now facing him, wanda offers another question that he may choose to not answer:]

You won't add people to mill about?

[supersoldier]

What for?

[To him, it seems like a ridiculous idea, adding people for the sake of background noise. If he wanted to feign company, or the concept of it swirling around him, wouldn't he just wander about a busy Cadens square?

Sephiroth seems to believe that's an acceptable enough answer, because now it's his turn for a question. He ambles close enough to stand a respectable distance away, yet still next to the glass enclosure housing the tree within. The glass itself produces a glossy sheen; so remarkably clean that it would not be visible at all if not for the ambient lighting. His arms cross.]

These flowers... Was that magic?

[carmesi]

[fair enough. wanda also doesn't want to add people or much of any kind of life to her own domain, even if it's for the sake of pretending, but her own does not look like a place that would be compounded by the presence of others. this place, on the other hand, feels like it's waiting to accommodate hundreds.

it's curious, she thinks, but does not further her thoughts aloud. perhaps she really is unfamiliar with having a place as this as her core of familiarity.

wanda is hesitant to answer the question that follows, not because she does not want to let him in on the fact that yes, she does use magic, but because she tries to gauge what his attitude is about her creating the flowers in the first place. in the end, he has really given her no reason to feel concerned for his reaction, whatever it may be.]

Yes. I can remove them if you want them gone.

[though he probably could do the same, it being his space and all.]

[supersoldier]

[He takes a moment to admire their shape, their color. Even Sephiroth can appreciate the wild, unfettered growth of vine and blossom if one ignores their oddity; as though they are a show of defiance against the glass and steel and faux lightning surrounding it.]

You can leave them.

[Here, he glances at her again, sidelong.]

I don't care to recreate Shinra exactly. [Confirmation of the name, apparently. She would've made that connection via the signage in the front lobby, as she already has.] Flowers like these don't grow in the city.

[Dry-] The company could use your magic for interior landscaping. Proof that it's able to make plants thrive.

[carmesi]

Considering how this place looks, I could get a lot of money out of it.

[she knows that the words they speak regarding landscaping are nothing but vapid assumptions, considering none of them will likely ever get to see the world the other belongs to. she appreciates the sentiment, though, a smile having formed at the man's willingness to keep whatever she whimed into existence.]

—next time I'll ask.

[lest he thinks that she goes about disrupting the order of other people's imaginings as a hobby of sorts.]

What kind of company is Shinra, in any case? [with its grand ceilings and polished floors. she looks around the empty cafeteria for a moment before turning to face him—and really look at him, his demeanor and posture.] I can't imagine you work in a fancy office.

[something about him is just different but similar to others she's met before, though she can't quite put her finger on it.]

[supersoldier]

[Her acknowledgment to not change things on a whim is appreciated, or at least appreciated enough that it guarantee he’ll leave the flowers as-is for the foreseeable future.]

It’s in the business of energy. Shinra Electric Power Company.

[He gestures, then, in the far direction of the lobby, where stairs on either side lead upwards to access the rest of the building. Or where it would be if this were reality and not Sephiroth’s own creation.]

There are several departments. But I don’t work in administration. I’m a part of their army, protecting company assets when necessary.

[An electric company with an army…… said so mundanely that one can assume this has been the reality for many on his Planet for some time now.]

[carmesi]

[wanda is almost waiting for a punchline, despite realizing that this man is not one for jokes. instead, claiming that an electric company has an army is said as if that's the most normal of circumstances.]

I'm sure there is nothing worrying about that.

[company assets... like what? the buildings? electric posts? sounds fishy as all hell — but wanda is not here to judge, even if her words show her skepticism.

a soldier, then.]

I almost worked for the government one time, to be told when and who to fight. It was not for me. [a shrug] I'm sure there are perks to your job.

[if the company one works for has... this much luxury.]

[lackingtalent]

[He has little idea of how he got here, but it would be clear that he is looking for something.

Somewhere distant, somewhere remote, some other horizon that depicted a different moment of a different star suspended in a different time, Hythlodaeus had spied something. Something... familiar? But something unique. Unique... like them. Almost.

And he had been compelled to pursue it. To not call upon the talents of far more talented friends, and compelled to go- lest this thing disappear.

This something- this soul- did not move throughout the horizon he had been within, oh no. It did not retreat away from him, nor did it move. Instead, it simply shone- piercing the different makeups of different realities, unto his (exemplary, might he add) view.

As Hythlodaeus enters the Shinra building, he pays it very little attention. The polished and primed to perfection machinery in the lobby is a curiosity, yes. As are the buffed glass panes, the immaculate floor which shines as if it has never been walked upon- but regardless of architectural fancy from different times, different worlds, he sees it for what it is.

It is an office.
And oh, he has seen offices. He is far from interested in offices.

What he's interested in- he's sure- is higher.
And thus he walks into the elevator.

Perhaps he- this man(?) of nine feet and some- attired from head to foot in robes of the darkest black, and yet extruding light- strikes quite a comical figure in these settings. Or perhaps he cuts an intimidating one. He does not know. He does not care, really. All that he cares for is the fact he is getting closer.

The soul shines on and on.
The elevator stops. And he walks out of it, immediately having to bow his head to avoid striking it on the ceiling- the upper ones- of course- far less grand than the reception of this building, with more standard sized ceilings- and as he walks into the office area proper, his attention is momentarily stolen by a flickering monitor.

He approaches it, but suddenly, the lights go out. An alarm sounds- shrill and piercing- and a mechanical thing hovers through the air directly toward him, motors screaming.]

[supersoldier]

[For all of his recreations of a building he knows intimately—whether partially or otherwise—there is one thing inherent in his domain that never existed in the Shinra Building: the ability to sense when a newcomer’s arrived. Like someone plucking at the strings of a spider’s web, he feels the reverberations of another conscious presence, in a way he cannot quite put into words. A knowing, even if his newfound visitor treads these mirror-shined halls quietly.

Which is, apparently, not the case.

Alarms sound. From where he stands, fortunately only on the other side of the floor his visitor’s stepped off of, already intending to meet him halfway, he can hear the telltale shrieking of motors coming to life — security systems reacting to unauthorized access to his own domain.

This may be something he should consider getting rid of, since apparently other Summoned have a penchant for wandering in here. This… very tall individual is yet another example, the second as of late.

Sephiroth steps into the vicinity of the room the stranger has loitered towards, unaffected by the screaming alarm systems. These are familiar to him; what is not familiar to him stands at a short distance, his green gaze affixed to the man.]

Stand down.

[An off-handed remark to the machines eager to punch bullet holes into the other. In reality, it would take more than just a simple voice command to deactivate its systems, but this is Sephiroth’s Horizon domain, where everything has a tendency to bend to his will, whether or not its an accurate approximation to the real thing.

The machine halts, whirring. It does not shut down, but it does not fire its weapon, either.]

Who are you?

[This, obviously, is a question for the newcomer.]

[lackingtalent]

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[No doubt, Sephiroth is not fluent in Amaurotine. Therefore, he would hear something alike moaning, yet something more. There's a distinct structure to it, most certainly, but it would be undecipherable.

However. This is his horizon, and he is the master of the laws that govern it. So should be focus- really focus- perhaps some words would become clear.]

t̴͉̟̮̤̤̜͕̬͔̯̿̾͂̽̂́͊̽̆͝h̸̪̪̟̳͑̔̅̈͆̀̐̑͆̀e̴̯̳̓̏͂̍̂̄̑̈́̕ř̴̡̢̧̜̀͜͝ę̸̼̊̓͂̐̎͐ ̷͈̟̻͎̠̣̀ͅî̷̻̺͈̝̦̑̀͆̋͆̄̿s̶͙̳͂̀̾̂̊̓̍̍͊͛ ̶̏̕͜n̵̢͍͔̭͓̘̤̣͎͍̈́͂͆̚̕͝ò̸̗͔̳̥̏̍̀ need f̷̩̜̩̈́õ̵͔͔̥͚̤̣͔̪͂̽̑̚͜ṛ̵̢̡͍͚̞͔͐́̄̆̎̔̍̒͠ ̶̖̳̲̿̄̐̃͜a̷̢͂̈l̶̝̘͙̘̓̀̓̆͋́ͅa̶̞̺͕̅̏̆̒͗ͅr̷̬̾̅̋͆͛̎͗͝͝͝m̸̠̹̜̌̿͋̽͊͘͘͜.̷̢̤͉̥̼̮̟̺̜́ͅ ̷̘̝͎̖͙̙͈̩͙̋̾͜I̶̞̘̼̟̘̻̟̖͊͆͜ ̷̱̪̏ȯ̸͍̼̹̥̲̜̌̈́̎̐̀̅ͅn̸̳̮̣̹̳̯͆̆͐̉̅͝l̸̛͕̐̌̿̀y̸͕̭̩͐̎̔ perceived s̵̭̻̟̯̼͕̓͗́̒̔̚o̵͍͍̤͚̠͒̐͝m̶͔̦͈͈̂͒̚e̴̮̳͖̟̎̉̓t̸̲͓͔̪͔̹̤̞̆̈́̌̑͐̈́̾͑͘͝h̸̳̬̲̘̥̩̙͋͂̍̈́́̔͒͝ḯ̸̟̻̖͔̱̠͖̱̺͉̔̎̇͌͝͠n̸͍̯̖͇̪̦̗̬̒̃̋ǵ̷̮̔ ̸̱̼͂̈́̽́͂͘͝ş̴͖͕̯̊͊̾ͅp̸̧̡̖̈́̈́̑̉̕ę̷̛́͒͘c̴̢̼̀̈́i̵̧̢̪͉̫̗̼̹̰̞̍̽͗̑͗͐à̵̻̎͑͂̂̊̉̔̅͠l̶̜͔̫̅̍̈͆͋̓͠ ̵̯͗̃ ̸͍̙͋͌̒͑̌ā̷̧̠̞̝͍͚̗̼̭̿̈́n̵͈̝̔̋̋̉̒̕͠͠ḑ̴̩̮̜̞̻̈̀͘ intended to i̴̼͊n̵͔̞̰̖̗̎̈̐̑̏̎̚̕͜v̷̡̗̫͔̝͈͗͗̐̓̈̾̑͝ę̸̧̦̺̤̱̲̌͆̅̽͋̆̏͆̒͘s̴̢̬̟̳̟̭̯̝̣̋̂̄̔̌̿̊̂̇͊t̸͎͇͝i̴̟̪̠̤̼̻͉̞̓̇̿̄͒̃͐͝g̷̖̙̜̫͒̉̚ä̴̺̩̀̈́̂͘t̴̡̨̫̭͘͝ě̴̡̻̦̩͇̟̎̔̐̍͋̚.̴̖̮͇͍͙̩͆̾̈́̂̀͜ ̵̮̬̭̹̞͕͒͒͋Á̴̪͗̉̉̽̍̂͝ǹ̸̼̦́́̈́͆̇̔̃̃d̷̗̯̟͉̮̥̯̺̉͋ ̷̭̪̙̎́o̵̜͉̰̭̯̔͗̈́̃͊́͛̀̑͝ḧ̸̡͎̠͔̰͉́̎̄͝-̸̢̡͇͉͉͖͎̟̜̇̆̽̅͛̈́̍̉͌but you are s̶͎͉̍̓͊̀̾̋̍͠ͅp̵̪͔̣͉̪͎̞̗̲̼͐́̾̑̇͊͝ḛ̴̦̑͗͌͠ͅc̵̭̳̩͚̹̺͎̉͛ì̶̘̖̙͍̟͈̫͔͍͑̈́͜a̸͎͎̳̒l̸̢̥͓̙̤͉͈̹̲͆̑͗̽͗̆ ̸͇͍͕͉͎̩̫̙̭̺̍̂̈͂̋̕ỉ̶̛͎̱̰̬̝̼͓͚͖̇̈́̈́ṇ̵̡̬̻̍͆̐͒̏ͅd̴̡̨̖̫̪͈̰̟̺̒͂̈̈́̂̾́͂̕͘e̸̛͇͔̺̳̝͉̥͓͎͛̀̿̿̒͜e̸̡͈͍̳̦̫̬̽͆̃̋̏͊̈̾̚͝ḓ̵̢̼̦̮̑.̵̜͑̾̉́ your hair, in fact, is q̵̨̺̇͆͂̎u̸͐̏͜ǐ̷̡̡͓͚̦̹͕̞̆t̷̨̟̘̜̭͒̉̋̓̉̆̾͑̿͝è̸̡̺͗͐̑̒͐͋̒͂͠ ̴͔͒̈́̑́͗w̵̜̰͙̝̉̍̽́͠͠ͅo̸̹̟̯̺͙͌̄̉̚͜ǹ̵̹̠̜̦̅̒͝͠͠d̴̬͚̘̬̗̻͒̒͑̀̔͘͜͝ȩ̶̢̘͔̯͓̥̖͈̎r̶̖͓̔̀̆̉f̸̧̭̱̺̰̹̊̔͆́͊͌͜ų̶͉̙̀̎̆̒ĺ̸̢̛̳̹̖̲̈́̑̍͆̒!̵̧̼̩̙̺̮̩̼̮̊̎ Y̴̞̩̟̣̐̆̑͑̕e̸̯̖̦̰͉̒̅͊̇̽͝t̴̢̝̺̘̓̽̈́ͅ ̶̤̻̱͙͉̤͈͈͚̈̾͊͛͆͋̄͠Į̷̘͋͐̐͂̀́̒͜ ̷̳̞͖͑͋̒̎͊̆̏̀̚͠ͅͅd̸̳͈̑̂̿̈́͑̉̈́o̴͕̻̘͓̮͎͗̃͋̚ͅ ̸̠͑͌̾̈́̊ņ̴̩̠̟̙̯̐̍͌͂̚͘͠͝ͅo̵̧̫̤̦̭̹̮̟͌̐̊͌̔͛̀̔̍̚t̴̛̛͉̠̤͔͗͆̔͑̍̓̏ ̴͚̜̼͗̒̓̆͊̄t̶͖̄̃ḫ̵̥̀͛̒̒ḯ̶̧̢̡̤̓̏̐̐͆̾̉̋͠ň̷̩͔͇̞͔̘̮̮̠̠̄̀̀k̶̡̧̟̣̪̰̀́͗̈̉̓͘͜ͅ ̸̡͉̟̩̦͊̀̊̄͆̓̏̃͐̚͜t̸̬̮͝h̴͙̙̹̄͋̽̌̅̈́̆̃̽a̷͍̙̠̙̯̅̔͐͂̃̏̓̊t̶̛͛̾̉̓͜ ̴̻̹͇̬͉̦͚̪͋̓͗͑̇̏̉̌̈͝t̸̯̺͙̐͐͑̂͑̇̄̃̚h̸̪̞͍̣̲̙̎̓̚͝e̷̢̡͉̪̗͋̍͋̅̀̐́̄̚͜͠ͅ ̶͕̫̺͔̜̺̙͉̂̈́̽̑̆̋̕̕͜͝ŕ̴̝͚̖͓̱̳̞͔͛̍ë̴̮́̓â̸̧̭̭͍̲̱͍̖͖̭̄̆̑͆̌͘s̴̨̬̉̑̿̆̍̅ơ̴͈̾̈́̈̈́n̵͉̖̠̎̈́͂͠.̵͙̘̫̗̭͙̀̅̌̌͘

[His hand then rises, just to his mouth, should he have one (does he? No. He does not.) would be. And...]

O̴̩͖̺͉̝̦̔̀̽͜h̷̥̞͔̯̽̇̎̀̅̀̉̋̚̚, you seem confused.

[supersoldier]

[Sephiroth only stands and watches at first. The sounds are clear but strange, and though he has the distant feeling that he is being spoken to, there is no manner in which he can understand the language.

Which is not inherently true, he realizes, his own stubbornness taking the wheel and sharpening his focus though sheer willpower alone. Slowly, meaning is wrenched free from the sounds — eventually, he understands them as though this were just another person from Midgar.

An impossibly tall person. He steps forward, craning his neck up. The machine behind him finally quiets, though it also remains stationed in place.]

I could barely understand you. [Though the clear implication is that he can, now.] You’re going to get hurt, wandering into someone else’s domain without even an introduction.

[lackingtalent]

Quite right. And yet you managed... so congratulations are in order, little one. Most would not care to try. Most that would care could not.

[His head inclines just a little more, and the fingers of his hand then uncurl.
He's laughing? He must be. However- it's momentary. His fingers curl back, his hand reaches his side again, and he straightens.

...As well as he can, anyway. Since he is far bigger than this room, and slouched accordingly.

But ah- his gaze then turns to the mechanical contraption, its fans, and means to propel itself from the ground, utterly still, yet it remains within the air. That's some control. Even for this moment's architect.]

More than likely, yes. But I thought it worth the risk. Now I have met you, I know it to be so.

[A pause, and...]

My name is Hythlodaeus. May I ask yours?

[supersoldier]

["Little one". No one has ever labeled him with a fond nickname over the years, not even as a child, and this is a strange one. He is not sure what to think of it; not sure if his pride should balk, or if he should take it literally, given the height of the man(?) standing before him.

He looks uncomfortable, slouched forward to avoid knocking his head against the ceiling. Sephiroth raises a hand, and wills him smaller, shorter in stature to fit in the room. The machine floating behind him vanishes in the same motion, leaving only empty space where a threat once stood.]

Sephiroth.

[Hythlodaeus is an unusual name, but perhaps no more than his own. Especially in a new world, filled with people from all edges of the universe.]

Are you one of the Summoned, too?

[lackingtalent]

[That tickles!
Really, he has to stop himself from laughing again, for the act of being made smaller- it really does. Some stifling later and he stands at around Sephiroth's height, looking around the room, even striding toward some desks, examining what appears to be screensavers indicating the Shinra logo on varying machines, and even bringing his hand to his chin at what appears to be a printer.

Ah- now the proportions of this specific cubical hell make sense. And even better- the machine behind him seems to have vanished entirely.]

And now we are introduced. It's very nice to meet you, Sephiroth.

[Effectiveness is quite subjective, but his words do seem to project warmth. The same sort of affection most would reserve for someone dear seems to flow from him, but his tone does not seem disingenuous. And even stranger, though he lacks a mouth- could possibly even lack a face underneath his mask- Hythlodaeus seems to be smiling.

How could he not be warm or affectionate when such a soul stands before him, really?]

To answer your question, I am recently summoned, yes. And enjoying a spot of wanderlust. I was not able to roam that much during my lifetime, you see. All of these moments are quite exciting...

[And.]

Yet I would offer my apologies for disturbing you. In my excitement, I've been quite rude.

[supersoldier]

[He does sense an affection, a kind of familiarity from a man who is all but familiar — welcome in most aspects, but strange in a building created to be cold, professional. Strange against himself, who is always so distant, who rarely welcomes that kind of warmth from an unknown.

Sephiroth closes his eyes briefly, considering a reply.]

You’re here and unharmed. In the end, it’s fine.

[He wonders just how badly injuries stick in a place like this; a plane that warps with the whims of a mind’s imagination. Thankfully, they needn’t find that out today.]

Are you— [A pause. There’s truly no other way to ask this.] —human?

[lackingtalent]

Hm~

[There's a vaguely musical quality to his assent, and he had wondered the same thing. These places seemed to capture their bodies, most absolutely. The first time... no. As someone used to traversal as aether within Eithery's lifestream, he had known that the first time he had visited the Singularity, his body must have stayed behind.

But not now.
This is his body, he's most certain. And he's certain that if harm were to come to it here, it would be troublesome. But.]

Yes, I am. Though I suspect the term relative. For after all, what is human in one universe would be inhuman in another, would it not? Linked only by loose traits. Two arms, two legs. One head, or perhaps there are stars where two of each is the norm? Evolutionary factors certainly change what would be normal.

[He then leans, elegantly, over a desk to concentrate on a little to-do board. He seems to be examining a series of post-it notes. Details, mostly. Hurried scribbles of meetings to come on dates that would never arrive in this moment- overdue proposals, conference calls. A picture of a child. Another memo, aggressively written on the desk, stated bluntly that personal effects such as said photo were prohibited.]

Instead, I would posit that what it means to be human is an impulse to make one's surroundings better for those to come. That is... what I believe, anyway. I may very well be hopelessly wrong!

[He then straightens himself, his head tilting somewhat- a single arm raising to gesture to... everything around them. The desks. The cubicles. The memos, the notes, the workstations, the overwhelming, stifling grey of the areas not intended for public viewing. ]

The level of detail applied to this phantom moment is quite remarkable. You knew it well, I think. And those here, in this time, certainly worked hard to create change. I wonder...

Did they believe it was for the better?

[supersoldier]

[Humanity described as the potential to create positive change, rather than physiological factors. Philosophy superseding science. He scoffs, though it isn't without amusement, like finding humor in a quiet joke kept to himself.]

This is the Shinra building. The headquarters for the company I work for.

[Describing this tower of offices, steel, laboratories, training facilities, storage, public propaganda, and more as a "company" is both precisely omitting and generally correct. He does not care to go into the details regarding how closely he remains tied to it.

That question, though. It has a less simple way to answer it.]

There were many in this building. All with different motivations that kept them working here. I'm sure some believed that Shinra provided a valuable resource to the people of the Planet, and kept them safe within the walls of Midgar. And nothing more.

[But not all.]

[lackingtalent]

[For someone that sees so much, of course that little scoff hasn't gone unnoticed! He smiles- as much as he can smile with no mouth anyway- and again, his hand rises as if to catch a laugh. And warmly, oh, so warmly:]

A man of science? How wonderful. I would like to hear your theory, when you are so inclined to share it!

[Sephiroth, of course- is welcome to take whatever he wants from that. But Hythlodaeus would hope that it would sound genuine, for it was. Very much so.

And. He listens to Sephiroth's answer, his head tilting ever so slightly.]

Different motivations... how interesting.

[And so foreign! His office was staffed by so many. Yet they were united with the same motivation, the same goal. Truly and utterly. ...His city was so united. As were his people, all of the same mind, united.]

That such an organized effort could exist with different opinions, different viewpoints...

[supersoldier]

I’m not a man of science. [That correction comes quickly in the face of the assumption itself, despite the congenial tone of the other; it is clear that Sephiroth sees that the distinction is made obvious.] I’m a member of its army.

[Do not associate him with the workings of the science department, when he has made an effort to detach himself from it — both in the real world and here, evident by a lack of its creation.]

In the end, the only viewpoint that matters here is executives’. The President has the final say.

[That tramples the novelty of differing opinions existing in a single room. None of them matter, in the face of Shinra’s bottom line. He cannot know if they ever did.]

Have you never seen a company before?