[div style="background-color: #292727; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px; height: 340px; padding: 10px;"]It was generally accepted that the meeting had been an absolute disaster.  Sephiroth had briskly left as the pain throbbing in his face became overwhelming and confused emotions swirled about in his head and had caused him to bolt.  He was too proud however to go and see a physician about his wounds right away, but considering his current wild mental state the encounter probably wouldn’t go well anyways.

Sephiroth would hold back a hiss as he entered his private quarters, neglecting to close his door and leaving it open a fair sliver as his exhaustion left him too out of it to notice.  He would step back into his chambers with a heavy groan, his legs buckling underneath him as he finally collapsed in pain and exhaustion.  He had appeared so indestructible to most everybody, and the Pharaoh didn’t want to betray his weakness in public, though he supposed them seeing him bleed already confirmed that.

He would shift onto his side with a hiss, squeezing his eyes shut.  His muzzle was smashed to some degree and his nose was bleeding, his head throbbed, and the intensity of his anger was making his heart race and beat so hard he could hear the blood in his ears.  The lion panted on the ground, his glazed blue green eyes shifting towards the ceiling.

He was a god, wasn’t he?  Weren’t gods better than this?  They weren’t weak, they didn’t feel pain.  Sephiroth’s eyes would lid, half closed in his tiredness.  The male lion would heavily sigh, allowing his optics to shut in an attempt to relieve himself of his headache.  He brought a paw with dried blood crusted around his claws to his head, crossing them over his face as he tried to relax himself.

You did well~  It was Mother’s sickly sweet tone again, the one who had encouraged his violence at the meeting.  While it usually brought him comfort and validation, right now he only found himself annoyed at her presence.  You asserted yourself beautifully, truly you are stepping into your position as a deity among them very wel-“

”SHUT UP.”  Sephiroth’s growl was thick and harsh but strained from the amount of commanding he had done at the meeting wearing out his voice.  "I don't need you right now.  Leave me be, Mother."  The male’s shoulders tensed, he pressed his paws harder to his face, and he grit his teeth in his frustration.  Her voice was not wanted at the current time, and did nothing to alleviate his headache.  The voice in his head seemed to back off however, her presence still clung near him but at least she was silent.  He could very much appreciate that at least.  He still shut off his mind just in case she forced herself back onto him.

He of course wasn't aware that anybody hanging near his quarters could've heard him very clearly, or even peer inside his chambers and see him on the ground in pain like a far weaker animal then he saw himself as.  If anybody encountered him, he would consider himself highly humiliated.

After the disastrous meeting, the ocelot kept her distance from the pharaoh to let him calm down. She felt the swirling emotions clouding his mind and, to some degree, picked up on the voice he called Mother giving him trouble. To know that the Rosebloods followed such an erratic leader troubled her; in truth, she felt tempted to go back to the Typhoon and tell her brother what she learned of their vulnerabilities. But that, she knew, would only lead to further violence. She needed to try saner methods before she was willing to throw away her chance for a new home.

Adjusting her satchel at her side, the physician walked to Sephiroth’s quarters with cautionary glances from her four eyes. The mage felt exposed coming here without her pet, but she doubted the lion would approve of her bringing such a dangerous beast to his quarters after the fights from the meeting. So she walked alone with quiet pawsteps, trying to avoid the other members seeing her on her way.

As she drew closer to the cracked door, she caught fragments of his words. Her ears twitched, and the witch hesitated. He sounded angry – but part of that rage landed on this ‘Mother,’ if she heard correctly. Chancing a glance inside, she used her paw to push open the door; all four eyes closed in on his sprawled form, clearly in agony from his head wound. She saw the emotions swirling about his soul with her clairvoyance ability, and felt tempted to quietly back away. The mage saw what he did when angry, how he thought sacrificing juveniles to gods made sense when he wanted to parade around on his power trip. If possible, she wanted to avoid that bit of his wrath.

But she was also a healer by nature. Growing up in a witch coven, she knew her way around more than a few mental illnesses and how to ease physical wounds – she doubted anyone in the group were more qualified to help him than herself. Stepping into his chambers, she softly kicked the door. She didn’t necessarily like feeling trapped in a room with him, but allowing the rest of the group to see him like this… well, the meeting already went sour.

“I’m sorry if this is a bad time, Sephiroth. But it would be best for me to attend to your wounds as soon as possible.” The male sustained quite the head thwack, from where she saw the brawl, and it looked quite irritated up close. She carefully took a few steps closer to his head, warily ready to stop if he showed any signs of killing her like the young lion. Her forked tail swished behind her as she went through a mental list of the things to grab from her bag – she wasn’t sure if he suffered from a broken bone in his face or not, though she hoped she wouldn’t have to deal with that. How troublesome, especially with a patient whose god complex likely wouldn’t let him believe he needed to keep bandages on his face.

With slight hesitation, she added, “I could also lend an ear, if you’d like. I’m sure the meeting… well, I'm sure it veered far off from your expectations.” Her tone remained neutral and curious, no matter how much disgust she personally felt.

[div style="background-color: #292727; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px; height: 340px; padding: 10px;"]The wildcat's ear would twitch at the sound of somebody approaching, grunting slightly as he rolled onto his stomach and made a small attempt to look presentable.  Image was still his top priority.  Was it that which had caused such trouble at the meeting?  Was he too intimidating?  Not forceful enough?  His head hurt too much to process that.

Rosemary.  Sephiroth's eyes were focused intently on her as she approached, thankfully doing what he had neglected to do and make sure that nobody saw their Pharaoh in this sorry and erratic state.  That wouldn't exactly help his current reputation.  He did not at all suspect Rosemary of being involved at all with what had happened at the meeting's end, hearing another feminine voice in his head and Mother screeching shrilly and causing him to bolt and shut off his mind.  Even if he did, what would he do?  Slaughtering another Roseblood in front of everybody wouldn't be smart and would only encourage the kind of rebellious behavior witnessed already.  He was caught in a corner no matter what he did.  Then again, why should a god care?

None the wiser to anything and being too drained mentally, physically, and emotionally to really do anything else, Sephiroth would grunt in surrender as the physician offered her services.  Shifting his position to gingerly rest his head on his paws to be at level with the smaller cat, he set his half closed eyes on Rosemary herself.  It didn't take a genius to recognize the trauma to his nose as being a fracture.  If anything it marked Sephiroth as plainly mortal despite his claims otherwise.  That was partly the reason why he didn't go for help right away; if anything he considered it an admission of weakness.  But here in privacy with somebody he had clearly trusted enough to promote, he didn't really care.

At her other words, an offering of an open ear to listen to what he had to say, Sephiroth's pale sides would heave with a heavy exhale.  Mother wasn't here to dictate his actions, he had full control of the situation.  He felt something in his chest, the word was emptiness but he woudln't say it.  "...What is there to say?"  The Pharaoh's voice was quiet, a murmur that didn't hold the same level of self confidence and perhaps arrogance he had shown only earlier that day.  Defeated was the word to describe his tone.  "I do not have the respect of my group, nor their loyalty.  They know what they came for, and yet when it is demonstrated what we are about, our superiority, it's suddenly.."

Sephiroth would groan partway through his dialogue, as if realizing the fact he was making everything about himself in a self centered fashion.  "What do I do?"  The male's voice devolved into a half hearted growl, the edge lost in his exhaustion.  "I am told that I am above and put into a position of high regard, but when my authority is exercised the others do not accept it."  He really wasn't used to opening up to anybody and words came spilling out without much thought out behind them.  He never had too before, but now he was put into a situation where he was allowed to be more vulnerable.  He entirely sure how he liked that.

Half-expecting a violent refusal, she watched him settle into a more comfortable position with no small amount of caution in her burnt orange eyes. When she felt satisfied that he accepted her offer without argument, the lithe feline moved towards his head with careful pawsteps. She rarely worked on correcting broken bones before, much less broken bones in someone with such a massive head (both literally and metaphorically) – hence her caution.

Her ears twitched as he started to speak, puzzled that he actually took her up on her offer to listen. With the amount of egotism in his mind – and this Mother’s outrage at having anyone else throw their opinion in there – she thought he might slink deep into his own thoughts. Allow his mind to fester further with his grotesque ideas and selfishness thoughtlessness. She spent a few seconds busily fussing with her satchel before she formed a coherent answer to him.

“To be fair… I doubt anyone anticipated that Roseblood superiority meant sacrificing sentient animals to gods,” she pointed out, deciding to take a neutral position. She tried to stay careful about her word choice; thus far, the pharaoh appeared unaware of her attempt to telepathically speak with him, and she felt compelled to keep it that way. While she sensed an unmistakably odd emotional reaction to her attempt at mind-touching with him, she wasn’t optimistic about revealing her willingness to barge into his mind like that.

After a slight pause, she tilted her head before she continued. “To be fair… you are in a position of high regard because the members of this group believe in you. Your power comes from the amount of people willing to die for you – by showing that you’re willing to kill people as loyal as that little lion for gods they don’t believe in… it is troubling. They have no reason to fear the aspects, because the aspects are nothing to them. But you, killing someone in the name of a concept they barely recognize, that makes a bold statement that you will not value their lives. If you do not value their lives, they can’t become devoted enough to die for you, can they?” Trying to explain to an egotistical maniac why he couldn’t simply do as he pleased without inviting getting sacrificed herself… well, she wasn’t sure how well she succeeded in that front.

With a sigh, she murmured, “I’m going to set your nose now, it will hurt… briefly, I promise.” Before she finished speaking the last word, she attempted to grab his nose and push it back into proper orientation. Of that, she had no doubt it would hurt. But after the brief flash of pain, she anticipated he’d feel much better.

[div style="background-color: #292727; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px; height: 340px; padding: 10px;"]The lion grunted at the first statement, allowing the silver tufted tip of his tail to twitch in what could be seen as an annoyed fashion.  "I had believed we had quite the savage reputation, and that our members had stronger stomachs.  I was simply doing as the Aspects demanded of me."  Sephiroth would half heartedly grumble, eyelids fluttering in a rare physical reaction most considered mundane but was a bit unusual coming from him, an alien beast that seemed to never blink.  It was just a day of events for him.

The male would allow Rosemary to speak without protesting, without interrupting what she had to say.  Sephiroth would avert his eyes somewhat as she went on about his position, about how he came off to the others as uncaring.  Hmph.  That implied he cared.  Mother had told him that he was above, a god among them as confirmed during the meeting.  For one to be above, others had to be beneath.  Perhaps that had gotten to his head during the gathering, the feeling of dark power in him caused by bloodshed awakening untold and unknown feelings in him.  Even without another one influencing his actions and words, he didn't regret.  Regret was not in his nature, it simply held him back.

Sephiroth hummed thoughtfully, settling his eyes back onto the smaller feline.  His eyes, all aqua hues and gleam with a reptile-like pupil in each sharp optic.  "I...suppose there is logic in that explanation."  He would simply admit, refusing to admit that maybe he had done something wrong.  It was weakness to admit in his eyes; he considered a lot of things weakness.  Especially with how life was here, how it was before, and how it was before before in forgotten memories of a life once lived now foggy and shattered.

He was going to make a sharp remark back, something along the lines of how the Rosebloods would have to get used to this way of life, but Rosemary was going to touch his nose and push it back into proper position.  Sephiroth would hiss in pain, baring canines in reflex and dragging the tips of long claws across the smooth floor of his quarters.  The Pharaoh, mortal even though he hated it and now founding himself questioning how the world perceived him, would exhale roughly again with a small wince.  Yes, it did feel better.  Sephiroth would look down his muzzle at Rosemary, consdering her with question waning in his eyes.  "...Thank you."  He murmured, giving his head a small nod as much as he could muster at the current confusion he faced.