@aonemanarmy sent:
The mage was practically seething and Sephiroth found great amusement in it. Kuja was so bitter, so enraged, the torrent of emotions was practically radiating off of and clinging to him like a hateful shroud.
It was delightful.
His reaction would likely the be the opposite of what Kuja would've expected considering his barbed words, but madness had made Sephiroth's reasoning beyond mere mortals and their simple understanding. Besides, after experiencing the absolute agony he had throughout his life the idea that words could harm him was laughable.
"Interesting how you believe that your thoughts about me would do little more than entertain. However, allow me to shatter any grandiose delusions you might have about being free, since you have never been free.
Mother knows all of your darkest secrets, your fears, and no matter how much you may sing you are still nothing more than a little bird in a gilded cage."
|| || Kuja, in comparison, had a most unfortunate weakness to words-- and those were precisely the right words. That absurdly long sword through his chest might have been less painful by comparison.
It was true, wasn't it? Garland was deceased, vanished. Yet, Kuja had never genuinely escaped the cage woven by his influence. His voice persisted in the recesses of his mind, a constant reminder that Kuja was still ever resolute in exceeding the seemingly insurmountable expectations set upon him. Freedom still eluded him after all this time... Instead, the cage had only expanded.
Why didn't the same apply to Sephiroth, then? Was he not endeavoring to impress the serpent coiling within his veins? Was... Was he not?
Was he worthy?
"It... isn't fair..."
His breath seared within his chest, as if his insides had transformed to molten lava. Unbidden, his magic flared, a white-hot ring around them. He understood that attacking this beast was ill-advised; Kuja was never one to reveal his hand without gaining a solid understanding of the opponent's vulnerabilities, and Sephiroth appeared to have none. Yet, his magic surged forth against his volition, barely restrained, and his hands shot toward the man's exposed throat.
