(no subject)
Who: Sephiroth, Elfe, later Veld? Hojo? (Guess it can be open to any sciencey type lurking around)
When: A few days after Hojo is recovered
Location: Gongaga
Rating: PG13 - If needed I'll edit
Summary: Sephiroth gets some time out of the containment chamber. Should imagine they are cleaning it, or has he been taken out for some other reason?
Even his dreams had become dominated by the raw hissing which accompanied his every breath as the rebreather fed him air and took air away at precise timings. Sephiroth had at one point counted the breaths in order to ascertain some notion of time, but then he must have fallen asleep and all awareness had been sucked inward. He wondered vaguely if one of the few tubings into him forced his concentration towards sleep at all, was it timed? Automatic? A steady stream of tranquilizer in varying doses at various points during the day?
He would have Hojo's head for this.
It made sense for it to be something like that, for everytime he mentally attempted to reach out to his brethren it was as if they were just out of reach. Sephiroth could imagine his fingertips brushing the edge of the awareness of whomever he directed his willpower towards, but falling short and once having fell short his concentration was pulled back sharply towards his current predicament. It was inconvenient them having control over his mother-given telepathy like it seemed they had managed to figure out, and being stuck like this left doors wide open for them to find out more.
Sephiroth hadn't felt any needles with which any tissue sample would have been taken but it was impossible to tell how many episodes of unconsciousness he'd been through since the containment, indeed just before the containment he knew he'd been on an operating table. DNA was indeed a precious thing and Sephiroth knew enough of science to know that even a hair strand would likely have been sufficient if that was the goal here. Which led to even more questions, which he'd likely not get an answer for any time soon.
Sephiroth shivered as a wave of coldness struck it's way right up his spine, it drew by reflex a sharp breath. But there was no hiss this time. He slowly let that breath out and drew a deeper breath. What the- No rebreather, and coldness? The liquid in which Sephiroth had been submerged had neither been cold nor warm, it hadn't even felt wet but now it felt like- he was drying off!
Underneath the effects of the tranquilizer Sephiroth's willpower bucked with the need to be aware, awake. Heavy limbs merely twitched at the extremities but sense of touch seemed to be returning. He knew of the restraints which held him down, the lines which were inserted into arms, sensors attached to head, chest. A numb throbbing at his was-wrecked shoulder told him stitching was present, it was a good throbbing - he was healing.
Interesting, he could feel and as he thought about it Sephiroth was sure he could hear. It was just there wasn't anything going on around him to listen to but dull hummings and occasional light footfalls. If his eyelids would open, he fancied he'd be able to see. How well would be another matter but it seemed a step in the right direction. Movement seemed still like his thoughts were not connecting with any of the physical attributes that would be useful. So for now Sephiroth would focus on the senses he did possess, and enjoy the silence which accompanied each breath.
When: A few days after Hojo is recovered
Location: Gongaga
Rating: PG13 - If needed I'll edit
Summary: Sephiroth gets some time out of the containment chamber. Should imagine they are cleaning it, or has he been taken out for some other reason?
Even his dreams had become dominated by the raw hissing which accompanied his every breath as the rebreather fed him air and took air away at precise timings. Sephiroth had at one point counted the breaths in order to ascertain some notion of time, but then he must have fallen asleep and all awareness had been sucked inward. He wondered vaguely if one of the few tubings into him forced his concentration towards sleep at all, was it timed? Automatic? A steady stream of tranquilizer in varying doses at various points during the day?
He would have Hojo's head for this.
It made sense for it to be something like that, for everytime he mentally attempted to reach out to his brethren it was as if they were just out of reach. Sephiroth could imagine his fingertips brushing the edge of the awareness of whomever he directed his willpower towards, but falling short and once having fell short his concentration was pulled back sharply towards his current predicament. It was inconvenient them having control over his mother-given telepathy like it seemed they had managed to figure out, and being stuck like this left doors wide open for them to find out more.
Sephiroth hadn't felt any needles with which any tissue sample would have been taken but it was impossible to tell how many episodes of unconsciousness he'd been through since the containment, indeed just before the containment he knew he'd been on an operating table. DNA was indeed a precious thing and Sephiroth knew enough of science to know that even a hair strand would likely have been sufficient if that was the goal here. Which led to even more questions, which he'd likely not get an answer for any time soon.
Sephiroth shivered as a wave of coldness struck it's way right up his spine, it drew by reflex a sharp breath. But there was no hiss this time. He slowly let that breath out and drew a deeper breath. What the- No rebreather, and coldness? The liquid in which Sephiroth had been submerged had neither been cold nor warm, it hadn't even felt wet but now it felt like- he was drying off!
Underneath the effects of the tranquilizer Sephiroth's willpower bucked with the need to be aware, awake. Heavy limbs merely twitched at the extremities but sense of touch seemed to be returning. He knew of the restraints which held him down, the lines which were inserted into arms, sensors attached to head, chest. A numb throbbing at his was-wrecked shoulder told him stitching was present, it was a good throbbing - he was healing.
Interesting, he could feel and as he thought about it Sephiroth was sure he could hear. It was just there wasn't anything going on around him to listen to but dull hummings and occasional light footfalls. If his eyelids would open, he fancied he'd be able to see. How well would be another matter but it seemed a step in the right direction. Movement seemed still like his thoughts were not connecting with any of the physical attributes that would be useful. So for now Sephiroth would focus on the senses he did possess, and enjoy the silence which accompanied each breath.