Junon
white-winged-warrior
He’d seen the name on a map somewhere, and it just--
There weren’t memories. Nothing solid that he could hold on to, but there was the frustrating knowing that he should know. It was something that Sephiroth was still trying to get used to; moving around in a world that he must have clearly been born into, but with no memory of anything.
There was something about Junon, the name. And then something to the images he managed to find in magazines, it was all “familiar”. Familiar enough. Known.
Curiosity finally got the better of him. After several odd jobs, he had enough to travel by bus (not nearly the most elegant way to go, but it worked), to get a rather cheap hotel room for a night or two and return. The Junon bus station proved to be infamiliar, admittedly, but stepping outside, being in the very outskirts of the city itself... yes, there was something familiar. The air and the landscape.
Instead of going to his hotel, he simply walked. He didn’t know why, some stranger with a single bag walking in a place he really didn’t know, not really, but... it seemed important. There was something important here. Gaze lowered in thought for a moment, he hadn’t even noticed how likely it might be for him to walk into any obstacle; including people.
