Ala Sephiroth

Disclaimer: Don't own him. Really don't.

Author's Note: Don't ask me why. ^^:


The city of the Ancients spirals around me. The tall black monoliths piercing the cobalt blue sky. It's so strange, the city of the Ancients looks exactly like the Nibelheim Mountains. Frowning petulantly (I love that word. Petulantly. It's so stylish!) I take out the map. I must be in the right place. The red dot cheerfully tells me; 'You are here.' So here I must be. But that still doesn't answer the question why on earth the city of the Ancients looks like the Nibelheim Mountains. With a frustrated sigh, I crumple up the map into a little ball and throw it over my shoulder. Then I put my hands on my hips and with a defiant (that's another word I like!) toss of my head, I send my luxurious, manly silvery hair rippling across my back. (I almost wished I could have taken a picture of me!)

            As I try to puzzle out where exactly I am, my thoughts are continually interrupted by the sight of the paper ball at my feet. Like a magnet, my eyes keep getting drawn to it. Knowing that I will have no peace of mind until I take care of it, I pick it up between my thumb and forefinger (litter! Eeew!) and deposit it in a trash can with a sign that reads: Keep Our Mountains Clean! Underneath, scrawled in what seems human blood reads: Or You'll Be Sorrry. I don't doubt it.

            No matter how hard I stare, the city of the Ancients continues to look like the Nibelheim Mountains. This means one of two things. Either Aeris got here ahead of me and did some serious redecorating…or I'm in the wrong place. Sighing, I reach in my trench coat (It's black. So stylish!) and pull out a handful of maps. One of these has got to be right.  I sift through them, putting a memo in my mind to kill whatever idiot drew lines all over them. As nothing is helping, I close my eyes (peeking just a little bit) and pick one. This had better be the right one. Aeris will be so upset with me if I miss her again.

            "I'm not sitting around here praying for my health ya know," she will say.

            "If my dress gets worn through at the knees, you're footing the tailoring bill," she will say.

            "You couldn't find your way out of a wet paper bag on fire with a guy at one end shouting 'this is the way out'," Puppet-boy will say. Oh how I hate him. Just because he has a bigger sword then me! Well, his might be wider but mines much much longer…and looks good when I pose too. From somewhere in the depths of my trench coat, the cuckoo clock goes off, telling me that If I don't shake my tail, I'm going to be late. I look at the map, take a deep breath and go into evil villan space.

            Then I'm flying…flying and falling. I remember to take out my sword and look like an angel of death. I close my eyes. (Blood! Eew!)  Soon I feel my blade slide through something and a loud roaring noise fills my ears. I open my eyes and find myself riding on a, now deflated, airship. Whoops.