he stumbled into faith and thought / rosemary

[sephiroth]

SEPHIROTH

MALE — ROSEBLOODS — PHARAOH — HOVER FOR TAGS

[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.

#psychosocial.