From the author of
"An Autobiography of Vincent Valentine"
Phoenix Down.
Phantom Wall Devils: A tale of Sephiroth
Part: Xi
Hei
But it was true; he did become famous, as Marty said he would.
He became nearly legendary- the Media exploded his character.
"Young. Handsome. And the greatest swordsman since Alexander."- The newspaper headlines would say.
"Single-handedly stopped a rioting, violent crowd!"
He was an icon- he was a celebrity.
They even developed scandals on him.
But they easily fizzled out. He was everyone's hero.
Just like he wanted to be.
He couldn't have a moment's rest without a camera in his face, without a flash of a photograph.
He was on talk shows.
"Katrina. How are you? I can't talk long, you know. You know how it is, I wouldn't be surprised if someone is listening in on us-"
"Shh.. Seph, your paranoid, just talk."
"You would be too if people followed you around for your freakin' signature."
"Seph, I'm PROUD of you. You're a hero-"
"Don't YOU start, Katrina. I- I MISS you, love. I'm goin' down to Mideel soon. I can't believe how this nearly exploded over night- my career. I feel like a rock star."
"Your now famous, Sephiroth."
"I- I know. But, listen, love, they want to make me GENERAL- since this incident. Can you believe that?"
"I'm proud of you, sweetie. So, when are you coming down?"
"Soon. How's your dad? Is he ok?"
"He's... Well, I'm not going to say that he's ok. Because he's not."
"Oh, I'm sorry, sweetie. I got to go, love you, see you soon."
"Bye, Seph, love you too."
The attention that Sephiroth got on a daily basis was dragging on him. Even his closest friends saw him differently. They wouldn't speak to him like they used to.
He couldn't go into 'The Phantom Wall Room,' without being bombarded.
He missed Katrina.
He wound up feeling more isolated than ever before.
He would lock his office, and open up a jigsaw puzzle, and not stop until three in the morning when photographers would be long in bed- or lost interest for the evening.
One TV show said that Sephiroth had been sleeping with Barbie Spors- the latest blonde-busty pop star.
(He thought THAT was funny- frankly- Katrina did too.)
But it bothered him. No body knew the real him- and those that did- began to only see the Sephiroth icon, and not the real him anymore.
He felt completely, totally, alone.
He wondered when the fame would fade away, as it usually does.
He wound up in his office for hours, alone with his head, and would think about things that he thought he long forgot.
His mother... Hojo... Jenova...
And those weird number tattoos- for some reason- bothered him greatly.
He was tempted to call Hojo's laboratory on a number of occasions, just to have someone to talk to.
As time went on, and he spent more and more time alone after serving his general duty to SOLDIER, he went back to Hojo's laboratory, and would demand access to files.
He would try to find anything that had the word, 'Jenova' on it.
Much of it was confidential.
"Why? WHY do you want access to my files?!" Hojo demanded. His hair was graying. He looked much older since Sephiroth last saw him. Hojo hadn't changed at all; he wasn't even glad to see him.
Sephiroth thought he saw a large, orange beast in Hojo's lab. It had a flame for a tail. The number '13' was tattooed in Roman numerals. He made a mental note of it.
"I just want to know why my mother's NAME is on all these project files! HUH!? Tell me that, HOJO! Why?!"
"Get out of my lab, boy. You STILL are a boy to me, general or not!"
Sometimes that would be the end of the argument; agitated, Sephiroth would leave.
Sephiroth found himself, on a dark morning, sleepless, hopeless, lonely, and falling into mental despair.
He took a weeks leave, and went to Mideel.
"An Autobiography of Vincent Valentine"
Phoenix Down.
Phantom Wall Devils: A tale of Sephiroth
Part: Xi
Hei
But it was true; he did become famous, as Marty said he would.
He became nearly legendary- the Media exploded his character.
"Young. Handsome. And the greatest swordsman since Alexander."- The newspaper headlines would say.
"Single-handedly stopped a rioting, violent crowd!"
He was an icon- he was a celebrity.
They even developed scandals on him.
But they easily fizzled out. He was everyone's hero.
Just like he wanted to be.
He couldn't have a moment's rest without a camera in his face, without a flash of a photograph.
He was on talk shows.
"Katrina. How are you? I can't talk long, you know. You know how it is, I wouldn't be surprised if someone is listening in on us-"
"Shh.. Seph, your paranoid, just talk."
"You would be too if people followed you around for your freakin' signature."
"Seph, I'm PROUD of you. You're a hero-"
"Don't YOU start, Katrina. I- I MISS you, love. I'm goin' down to Mideel soon. I can't believe how this nearly exploded over night- my career. I feel like a rock star."
"Your now famous, Sephiroth."
"I- I know. But, listen, love, they want to make me GENERAL- since this incident. Can you believe that?"
"I'm proud of you, sweetie. So, when are you coming down?"
"Soon. How's your dad? Is he ok?"
"He's... Well, I'm not going to say that he's ok. Because he's not."
"Oh, I'm sorry, sweetie. I got to go, love you, see you soon."
"Bye, Seph, love you too."
The attention that Sephiroth got on a daily basis was dragging on him. Even his closest friends saw him differently. They wouldn't speak to him like they used to.
He couldn't go into 'The Phantom Wall Room,' without being bombarded.
He missed Katrina.
He wound up feeling more isolated than ever before.
He would lock his office, and open up a jigsaw puzzle, and not stop until three in the morning when photographers would be long in bed- or lost interest for the evening.
One TV show said that Sephiroth had been sleeping with Barbie Spors- the latest blonde-busty pop star.
(He thought THAT was funny- frankly- Katrina did too.)
But it bothered him. No body knew the real him- and those that did- began to only see the Sephiroth icon, and not the real him anymore.
He felt completely, totally, alone.
He wondered when the fame would fade away, as it usually does.
He wound up in his office for hours, alone with his head, and would think about things that he thought he long forgot.
His mother... Hojo... Jenova...
And those weird number tattoos- for some reason- bothered him greatly.
He was tempted to call Hojo's laboratory on a number of occasions, just to have someone to talk to.
As time went on, and he spent more and more time alone after serving his general duty to SOLDIER, he went back to Hojo's laboratory, and would demand access to files.
He would try to find anything that had the word, 'Jenova' on it.
Much of it was confidential.
"Why? WHY do you want access to my files?!" Hojo demanded. His hair was graying. He looked much older since Sephiroth last saw him. Hojo hadn't changed at all; he wasn't even glad to see him.
Sephiroth thought he saw a large, orange beast in Hojo's lab. It had a flame for a tail. The number '13' was tattooed in Roman numerals. He made a mental note of it.
"I just want to know why my mother's NAME is on all these project files! HUH!? Tell me that, HOJO! Why?!"
"Get out of my lab, boy. You STILL are a boy to me, general or not!"
Sometimes that would be the end of the argument; agitated, Sephiroth would leave.
Sephiroth found himself, on a dark morning, sleepless, hopeless, lonely, and falling into mental despair.
He took a weeks leave, and went to Mideel.