Sephiroth

[kempff]

Username:
kempff

Current canons:
None

Canon you're auditioning for:
Sephiroth

Media canon is from:
Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Advent Children, Final Fantasy VII Crisis Core, Kingdom Hearts, Kingdom Hearts II.

Is the current canon taken?:
No. (As admin who was using him is gone and canon list fails to show ownership.)

Audition post (400 words):

So a hooded traveler stalks out into this nocturnal wood
What but a single processional dirge, off to the ceremony of their own solitude.
About their back a giant blade, but it too is for the dead.
What is so interesting of this traveler if not time, vestiment, or being?
A sinister calling quietly emits from them, and unaware is the traveler,
For the angel of death has responded from his long wait, Sephiroth.

The trudges of feet are now echoes, though aura given quiets the wood still.
Who was this black garbed fellow? So dark in character, so reclusive as if to shunt all around them.
What means this passage?

There is a howling in the wind. Something has disturbed the owl's call.
The animals rustle, freeze, and they are off, never to look back. Doubly they have been quieted, but forever now are they scarred.

Above in the night sky the moon and stars are flickering out, then back, like scattered christmas lights, but this ocassion is not one of joy. Here in the meadow a shadow is cast by a tall figure across the span. They stand on an upturned rock with arms apart. How they came to suddenly be there is not clear. To their left and right the trees crack and moan, twice as well they are being tested, they are aware of the thing amidst them and unable to distance themselves. The animals now have long left this wood, frightened from the face of death after the slightest touch of this overwhelming negativity.

As if autumn's first touch, black leaves fall to the ground, they had been drifting down in what seems endless time. Black leaves are not natural for this forest however, nor are the trees in autumn; no, these are feathers. They were what blotted out the stars and eclipsed the night, and they were of this being who stands in the meadow now.

Finally the moon is shining down again into this clearing, hitting first the man's silver hair. Glimmering, regal, it is like a god of death descended in avatar, taking great effort for a human appearance so that witnesses mistake the beauty for the sinister truth he is. Still his eyes remain closed, deep concentration is the expression on his face. Something came here before him. Something like him. No! This observation is sorely wrong, but is it? He did not come here for himself, by himself. It called for him.
It was carried by another, another it deemed unworthy. Sephiroth did not care for it, he came for the other.

"Chernabog..." His voice is akin to the devil's allure, such kindness and emotion one hears at first. The light complexion of this calm face, then the perfectly angular structure. Surely an angel is this man. Yet, to the keen ear, underneath this sincere utterance of a name is the inclination for his own ambition. His willingness to crush the one who held what desired him, yet he does not desire. And his eyes open and he is sure of who brought him here, of who holds his "siren's call", and a great smile comes about this angel of death. "I've found you Cloud."

Ways off from the angel of death, is the figure of before, seclusion still the motif. Now their head turns, and they are not so unaware of this new
visitor. It is too late. A black feather draws attention to their side, and from behind they find the ruse, the presence of a god in man's form. The cloaked figure now hesitates, not sure of what action is best next. They see a man in black, two white shoulder pads, the uniform of a soldier, boots for any terrain, long gloves for any equipment; this man is special, surely has been surmised from this. Yet none compares to his long flowing silver hair, pristine skin, high composure, and those eyes. What are they: teal, blue, aqua green? "What makes these eyes so piercing?", surely the cloaked figure wonders.

Wonder they do not, as their right arm shoots out and draws sword from back. At once they meet this man in black, who from nowhere wields a thin but incredibly long blade to block the slice, and from a flick of his wrist throws his attacker back. He smirks, but it is clear he is discontent.

"You're weak again Cloud. How can a memory still haunt you?"
No answer from the cloaked figure, a refusal to break their defensive stance.
Sephiroth now frowns, then with his own blade points to the source of confusion.

"What are you doing with that? That weapon can never hope to match me."
Silence yet abounds and it is not suitting Sephiroth's long held patience for the moment.

Now he crouches his knees and leaps forth with the great blade. So forth comes the other, and in their hand a claymore, it is this weapon that confuses and tells Sephiroth he was wrong. Blades cross, once again the great blade pushes back the claymore, and just then Sephiroth reaches and tears away the cape. The body of a woman, it is clear, just as she is launched back.

"..." Speechless he lands. In left hand he holds the cape, now thrown to the ground. He assumed Cloud would be the kind to rid Bald Mountain of Chernabog, though why he would still posess Chernabog was a question Sephiroth wondered before. "You're not Cloud." Clearly from tone, Sephiroth is annoyed.

"Indeed I am not." A strong, clear declaration from this unknown woman. Her free hand has come up, hood as well to the ground. Sephiroth's eyes are widened, intrigued. Blond hair, blue eyes...even your face is similar. Thinks Sephiroth, now narrowing his eyes, bringing his sword at ready.

"Who are you?" A voice that dares the woman to test his patience, but sadistically paired with an angelic smile.
She scowls, and answers. "Priscilla."
"...heh, how interesting. And that name means "Ancient", no less."
Priscilla is confused. "What is it to you?" Now Sephiroth ignores her and answers her as he likes.
"Sephiroth. It seems you look like someone who is dear to me...how sad," His head shakes sarcastically while his sword remains aimed, at ready.
"Why do you carry Chernabog with you?"
Priscilla's face is cast with surprise for a moment, then her eyebrows furrow.
"I freed him from his imprisonment in Bald Mountain."
"Oh? Freed? You didn't fight him?"
"No." Priscilla's response is edged with fury, Sephiroth's comments are a bit too sarcastic for her liking. His smile infuriates her. Or perhaps her arms are still shaking from the force of his blows.
"Understandable, I was surprised to see that Cloud would be weak now if he defeated Chernabog. But I see you are the one who only freed him."
Predictably Priscilla lunges at Sephiroth.

His arms react and his blade swings madly, Priscilla's claymore stopped by a effortless vertical block. These two stop for hardly a beat, Sephiroth on the attack pushing off Priscilla then bringing his blade around and diagonally for her neck, only to be pushed off with a block by the claymore. Priscilla sends her left leg forward and pushes her block up, lands into a spinning pivot which would make her claymore come at Sephiroth's inner right. No, she turns completely with the spin and brings the blade of her claymore down like a hammer to what she thinks is the now unguarded head of Sephiroth, and finds herself very surprised when he is several steps back and and blocking her attack. Even more is she surprised when a side kick to her gut knocks the wind out of her, and she is falling yards away and back.

"...Is this all, Priscilla? Are you this weak?" Sephiroth nows walk forward slowly, blade at his side, watching his foe struggle to her feet, lifting herself on her sword. What a disgrace of an opponent. "You look like Cloud, I see his weak appearence, but I thought I saw myself." A sly grin comes, his eyes look at her with disgust. "That was a lie." He laughs, seeing her return a look of hatred.
Then she becomes placid, she is no longer looking at him. He will crush her like the bug he sees, a bug that wasted his time and fooled him. "Die."
Blade comes forth, but stops before an upraised Priscilla.

Now Priscilla is smiling, pulling her claymore from the ground and knocking away Sephiroth's blade, which was stuck in midair before her in her shield of will. "I will be honest. I regret testing you." Her face now partially covered in blood from a gash along her forehead. Before she can speak again Sephiroth has already attacked, taking the temporary setback for what it was. Her shield cannot be raised fast enough to block his sword, and soon it messes up Priscilla's rhythm in blocking away the strikes that slip by. A strike too many gets by, and Priscilla finds her sword arm cut along the side, she cringes at the feeling. There is no doubt, the cut was made just so she cannot wield her sword at full strength any longer.

"How can you rely on such a secret? When you meet someone stronger than you, you're making yourself weaker."
"..." Priscilla cannot reply, a response is meaningless in this situation.
This man before her smiles now, to any other perhaps they see him as an omen of beauty, a blessing. She knew the devil that stood behind her the moment he made himself known. Now she knows his power and that he is far, far beyond her current state. His grip on his sword is loose, has it always been like that? Yes is the conclusion she comes to, he has been toying all along. Why he has not yet killed her is beyond this Fey. Perhaps he wishes to see her squirm, force her to fight all her own. And then it dawns on Priscilla, Chernabog, he has been sapping her strength...and possibly keeping her alive. Sephiroth has grown tired of her silence again, stepping slowly like an omen of death with sword in hand.

For some disturbing reason, his current smile seems genuine, in Sephiroth's twisted way.
"Though now...I think I see you as Cloud. Yes. No different. Even if you are nothing like him in character or strength." And his voice oddly sounds satisfied. She is not at all like Cloud, but he will let her find that out. From the beginning he has known the effect Chernabog had on Priscilla, it greatly reduced the length of their fight. Without question though, he sees an old part of himself in her and something else; Sephiroth hates her for this, but does not desire to kill her. He knows he has found someone who is formidable, but also someone he and many can crush currently. It would not do to watch her die. That will not be. At least for a while.
"I will not kill you. I will disgrace you here. Let you live, however," His eyes, such dangerous things, narrow at her. "you will be indebted to me. If you disagree, I think you realize who else will disagree with you."

The Fey nearly curses Sephiroth in her mind, but remembers Chernabog is still within her, second thoughts prevent the action. The point is now well taken.

"Cloud, who I have mentioned. I want to find him, but he manages to run often. Already he has proven himself...formidable, but you can help make these tables turn easily. He looks just like you and carries a large sword, wears black, and travels at times with a group of friends. You will help me Priscilla, on your life." And Priscilla makes a deal with the Devil himself here. There is no alternative for the once proud and fearsome Fey. She has been bested for the first time in centuries.

She spits out blood from her mouth. "Fine. I'll warn you. This will not come just to your benefit, when your task is done, this fight will be finished." Priscilla manages a fierce tone, and even keeps Sephiroth's attention for a second. "Tell me though. Where did you come from? I rarely have anything surprise me." His face remains straight and emotionless, his eyes are burning with memory, Sephiroth that was present a second ago is now gone.

"...It was all for Mother. He was even a part of it. Again and again he pities me, turns on his own, he is the disgusting mutt." Out of nowhere Sephiroth laughs, it then ends and he looks up at the moon.

A moment later his grip on his sword tightens and he peers into Priscilla. "He called me a memory. Nothing more. Mother and I can object to that, but Masamune," Holding up his blade, the murderous blade that he showed to Priscilla, it was just as much as he was of a monster. "it knows we are not a memory. In slumber, death...I grew tired. I will show Cloud the darkness he and I came from, that he has no light!"

With a sudden burst of movement Sephiroth drove Masamune into the ground and pulled forward, sending chunks of earth flying, and a line of fire and destruction what seemed endlessly beyond them into the forest. The blaze was beginning to catch and now spreading, Sephiroth would burn this entire forest down just to release his anger. Or was showing Priscilla the beginning reaches of his power.

"We will begin with happiness. You and I will find Cloud's greatest source of happiness, and we will kill it." And then that was that, he walked away into the growing inferno before them, Masamune hanging behind from his left hand. He showed not the slightest bit of discomfort.

Priscilla was speechless. She would not bother to ask if he meant himself and her, or Masamune. Off into the night and blaze he went, the angel of death had risen again.

(The change in tenses is meant to represent Sephiroth's personality and "sanity". The word count for the actual audition is 2300+. Usage of Priscilla was meant to coincide with her physical similarities to Cloud; Priscilla and Sephiroth would rarely be in the same RP.)

[~/\The Dragon Writer/\~]

Eh...I'm a bit on the fence with this one. I read the beginning with high hopes, and then once I got to the middle, it lagged a bit in showing off Sephiroth as he should. Later on, however, I realized it was all more reminding me of the VII Sephiroth a bit more than the KH Sephiroth. With that thought in mind, I can definately see you doing Sephy justice.

~1/2 Accepted~

[Iris|Kairi]

I'll kill you for making me read that much, Nivi. You just wait..

2/2 accepted.