( 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.]

[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.]