So very much had happened it served to set Sephiroth right on edge.
It set him in the centre of a child's see-saw and he felt himself dipping between long ingrained instincts to kill and assimilate to spread and grow (had he still been in Wutai he would have made his way to the nearest POW camp and fucked his way through all of the women), and to
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He didn't have super-special psychic powers or anything, but he did have an uncanny knack for being able to find either Tall, Sexy and Crazy, Tall, Dark, and Tormented, or Tall-sh, Blond, and Adorably Tormented But Also Probably A Little Crazy people. They invariably ended up being the people he cared about the most ( ... )
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In passing he flung a hand out fisted a hand in Zack's harness, him along. A breif look from the corner of his eye was as much of an acknowledgement he got, his eyes glowing. Slytherin. That was where he was heading.
His room, his bead. His sturdy bed and spare materia and where he felt like he could let Zack do what he thought he was going to let him do. Or force him to do, rather.
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Except... except for that look in Sephiroth's eyes. Oh man.
Zack was starting to learn what that look meant. And he liked it.
He stopped tripping over his own feet and matched pace with Sephiroth, giving a look of his own. It was the 'I bet I know what mischief you're planning and damn am I looking forward to that kind of fun' look. How little he knew what he was getting himself into.
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He slid of his jacket, set it on a wooden chair by the bed. "It's another world, where one of the other students are from. A world full of demons. There were so many, and they were so strong. It was like fighting another SOLDIER, but a monster at the same time--" He turned and looked at Zack, expression turned confused for a moment. "Why are you still dressed?" he demanded.
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