Smooth, slow motions.
Once, one of his colonels had commented on the oddity of Sephiroth, the General spearheading the war against the orient, doing something like Tai Chi every morning. Sure, he didn't believe in Da Chao and reserved his beliefs for science rather than Odin and his host of sons and daughters, but he believed in the calming nature
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"It's calm. That makes it relaxing." Said like it should be obvious, not that he was intentionally trying to sound arrogant at the moment. "It's excessive, too."
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Ulquiorra wanted that. To feel his strength anew, to have it rejuvenated. 'Show me,' he demanded in a monotone.
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He moved slow, slower still than he had been, at least, waiting for the rather dreary man to move his arms up and leg to the side before continuing, guiding him. A brief thought crossed his mind, one that posed the question of whether he should be making nice with students here, but this...man didn't seem human, and...understood, perhaps.
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After a while he sank into a pleasant kind of mindlessness once more, automatically pausing and continuing as needed, watching his unlikely companion from the corner of his eyes. "Are you human?" The words slipped from his mouth before he quite realised they'd done so, but even then he only blinked in surprise, otherwise remained pleasantly blank inside and out.
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But Sephiroth thought that, in some small part of him, he didn't really want to kill these people. Only the humans, and that one from AVALANCHE. But not Zack. Even though he was human. That this man, was not human, and thus was not on his default 'hate' list, was a good thing. Mother and he could agree more readily over how to treat him then. "I am Cetra," he spoke, in reply, as if that explained everything. "Mother's Chosen One."
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He too did not have a desire to cause this person bodily harm. He even found himself contemplating the fact that he found the subject interesting, and not a simple waste of oxygen and flesh. But he broke that down to the relaxation of his mind and limbs. Because such other feelings were not capable of him, for his aspect of death denied such emotion, such feeling, such humanity. He was Arrancar, nothing lower.
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"Cetra are an ancient race, from the stars," he murmured. "My mother was betrayed, long ago, and she chose me to avenge her." Terribly abridged, but good enough. "Sephiroth," he said simply, since he had no name and he'd long since dropped the moniker of 'General'. "What are Espada?"
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He felt the calm lake of his mind state churn, turn vaguely rippled with his break in concentration, and he took a deep breath, willed himself back into that state of calm, of sanity. "Now I have no superiors."
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His tranquility faltered and he found himself missing a beat to the Tai Chi stances, stumbling slightly to his left. This brought him closer to Sephiroth, but without acknowledging it, and calming himself once more, he fell back into the routine and soon all he heard in the cold, clear night was his breathing. He probably looked like a novice after that. What was that feeling! The awareness of his mistake that seemed to fog his mind. He worked to clear his thoughts. 'That must be satisfying,' he said begrudgingly, and would not be aware of this display of envy for some time to come.
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Out of respect for his companion, he didn't mention nor react to his stumble, not realising there had been an emotion behind it and instead considering it a lapse in concentration.
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