middaeg | ( closed ) caught in a motion

[He isn't one for buying birthday gifts. He cannot say, if he were to be honest, that this is at all the reason why he's crossing through this particular square, lined with stores and smaller shops that would call themselves boutiques — a man with his military mien, dressed only starkly black colors, stands out even amongst those with stranger features than his own. Instead, he seeks only the most efficient path from point A to point B, and this route happens to be the quickest.

But in the end, the notion of birthdays (and the gifts paired with them) will be an inescapable subject today. Because Sephiroth, keen observer that he always is, spots a familiar frame along the path he's mapped for himself. Notes the line of a profile, gone slightly marred with contemplation, standing there before a storefront.

He's rarely the sort to amicably start jovial conversation — nor does he this time, either. But Sephiroth does approach, skewing his path just enough to fall into earshot, and speaks in his plain, undemanding way that demands attention all the same.]

You look lost.

[The lost look of a window shopper, or something close to it, though Sephiroth can only guess at his reasoning.

Glance his way, and Urianger will see him standing with a cool, assessing gaze. The same stoicism as always, but now with a few subtle changes across his person — mostly the intermingling of dark feathers in his hair, no longer hidden, and the visible protrusion of pointed ears. The slow but assured changes of a monster, invading his typical physique. Surely it isn't that much of a surprise, given its inevitability.]

Edited 2020-03-30 18:41 (UTC)

[Urianger turns from the window, and smiles at him slightly. Assessing eyes take in the recent changes with equanimity; Sephiroth is still perfectly recognizable as himself, additional feathers aside, but he has to wonder how it must feel to watch yourself change from month to month rather than year to year.

Regardless, it's more gratifying than he expected, that someone he's met only recently would bother stopping to speak with him simply out of interest.]

I suppose I must. [He glances back toward the shop window, this particular one showing off a variety of hats and hair accessories.] Purchasing goods for the sake of owning them hath never been a vice I can lay claim to, and so I must confess to little skill in seeking out items another might like to own. Yet 'tis a ritual of society which reinforceth bonds I should like to maintain.

[He's being unusually vague even for Urianger, a little embarrassed that he's not very good at shopping.]

[Urianger might purposefully utilize vague wording to explain his current problem, dressed-up in its usual eloquence, but Sephiroth can still parse it down to the core of the issue. It seems that someone is having difficulties making a purchase, and he looks past the glass of the storefront to spy what’s displayed within — a row of hats, a display of glittering hair accessories and their ilk.]

So you’re looking for a gift?

[A ritual of society, the taller man tells him, and already Sephiroth’s mind is churning through the possibilities. And yet, not one to assume in this instance, he follows up with—]

And you have your eye on a hat for this person?

[He nods, glances back at the window for a moment.]

More likely a hair accessory, but...

Tataru's nameday swift approacheth. Though we arrived in the same month, she hath done much to ease the transition of arrival for me, and I should like to demonstrate my gratitude. Yet I know not her taste in finery, and to ask would be to give away the surprise: she is too keen not to guess the reason for such questioning.

[And so here he is, dithering outside the shops and trying to figure out the perfect present all by himself. This is a Serious Quest, obviously.]

Ah, Tataru.

[If it is spoken like this comes as no surprise, then that isn’t far off the mark. Tataru had mentioned her birthday to him once before; she had even done her best to convince him to come to whatever celebration she managed to throw for it. And Sephiroth had agreed, though he drew a line at indulging himself too much in the cake and overt festivities. (One will see just how long his willpower stands against her own friendly obstinance when the day comes.)]

Yes, she told me about her birthday. It's soon, isn't it? [He seems to realize, for the first time, that the expectation might lie on his shoulders, too, to find her a gift. His lips thin, but he keeps this to himself for now. Instead, it is simpler to offer his own opinion on the matter.]

If you can’t guess at her tastes, then wouldn’t it be more prudent to buy her something you know she'll use?

[He nods simply, tapping the side of his head as he thinks. If he notices any shift in Sephiroth's demeanor, he doesn't react to it - probably he's too preoccupied with his current dilemma to be that observant.]

The suggestion hath merit... though that choice doth carry its own perils. I would not wish the gesture to seem self-serving - considering her penchant for bringing others meals, for example, buying her cookware would be an act not lacking in self-interest. Many are her pursuits, and so oft in the name of aiding those about her; I would rather offer a gift which is of benefit to her alone.

tbd.

[The cometflies are alight with color, trailing individuals that wander by as if attached by an invisible string. No one seems safe from interest, no matter the demeanor of the person — those curious and more amiable to the festivities do not mind the attention, of course, but the men and women less inclined to be harried by glowing bugs are not as impressed.

Sephiroth skews more towards the latter, not deep enough into he realm of pure agitation, but thinking these insects are a continued inconvenience. Raising his hand to swat one away every five seconds does not entertainment make.

It doesn’t seem to matter where he wanders. Even with his boots pressing into the grass of a hilly area, the meteors streaking with light above, they dance around him. They flit and fly to those nearby, to a the young man who appears seated at the crest of this same hill — to watch the cosmic show above, he assumes.

Cometflies of red and green dart towards him. Sephiroth speaks up, cutting through the silence.]

Behind you. [there are BUGS that want your ATTENTION]

Edited 2020-04-07 20:25 (UTC)

(jonas is lying on his belly with limbs akimbo, stretched across a picnic blanket, the telescope he and bailey wished for—as a fun test for these meteors and their tantalizing contrails—set down triumphantly at his side. he's had himself propped up on his elbows for the past fifteen minutes, murmuring the occasional "ooo," and "aaa," obliviously unguarded and susceptible to all attacks waged by the rainbow assortment of cometflies.

so when sephiroth startles him into a flop to the side, the bugs aren't batted away and his warning goes unheeded—rather, misinterpreted. as far as he can tell, as the bugs float down to nest in his hair and light up his roots an odd red-and-green, this guy wants his attention.)

... uh, yeah. ("behind you"? right. jonas tries to shift into a more confident position on his hip to better greet this gorgeous man and his gorgeous, silky, silvery hair, sitting up with a needless glance over a broad shoulder.) All that's back there's the spot I reserved for you. I can make room, if you wanna' take a seat.

(if jonas knew how to smoulder without looking constipated, he would. as it stands, he simply smiles a bashful smile with a pat at the blanket.)

[A moment of vague confusion settles in, which is indicated only by silence from Sephiroth. People of this world — and the Mirrorbound who now call it a secondary kind of home — always make strange assumptions of him. That he is the sort who likes to talk, who likes to attend social gatherings, who is used to contact with others outside of a strictly business-military sense. Who would want to sprawl in the grass with a telescope at his side, glancing up at a meteor shower dazzling overhead.

These impressions are, of course, all wrong. He meets them all with a look of cool consideration, as though stringing together the correct words to deny them.]

I didn’t come this way looking for a spot on a hill to watch the stars.

[Clarification first.

He gestures out with a gloved hand in Jonas’ general direction, indicating the top of his head — his hair, which glows red and green, though the movement as a whole is terribly non-specific.]

I meant the cometflies.

(his attention flicks skyward as he drags his limbs into a proper seating position, and thank god for that; he really starting to feel himself. a few more moments horizontal and who knows what sort of coquettish gesture he'd have made next? now jonas is busy fluffing at a brown crown of hair, feeling the distressed buzz of two flies beneath his fingers. when they lift, hand hovering above his head, he watches them float away like mobile stars.

caught up in the twinkle he almost forgets to look back at sephiroth, but who can keep their eyes off of him for that long?)

... huh. Uh, sorry, you– you're pretty much glowing in this light show. I didn't notice 'em in time. (no shit. there is something oddly sincere about jonas, though, even addled by cometflies; the man is striking in all senses of the word. his pulse is getting away from him.) I hope it's not too off-putting. Like, this being our first interaction and all... I don't want to ruin your initial impression of me.

(pointedly trying not to look at his chest.)

What's your name?

[Sephiroth watches the cometflies drift away with all the languor of an unconcerned cat. As long as they do not near him (knowing by now that they might not be all innocence; their colors appear to imprint strange influences on the Mirrorbound), he will leave them be. That only leaves him to wonder if this young man — eager to share an introduction between them — has been affected similarly, or if he’s always overly friendly.

Then again, it does not take much to register as “overly friendly” in Sephiroth’s eyes. On a sliding scale of extroverted to Talk To Me And I Might Stab You, he certainly skews more towards the latter than the former.

Still, there is nothing terribly offended in his reply, even if it lacks warmth.]

Sephiroth.

[No surname to give. He pauses, as if to leave space for the other to return his own name, but then seems to think better of it.]

Others have left less favorable impressions than you. Don’t worry. [Comforting(?)] There’s no harm in watching the meteor shower, but I’ve had my fill.

That's comforting, (here we go,) I thought I'd have a ton of competition. I mean, you seem like you have 'em lined up... not to say you're down with that, or anything. Just that– I mean, obviously you're...

(drop dead gorgeous? the mystery man of his dreams?

what a beautiful head of moonlight hair, green eyes that seem lit from within, a pair of soft lips, and, god, the chest that's exposed—oh, what a world. he's absolutely staring, how could anyone help themselves? least of all jonas, who's a very ordinary eighteen-year-old boy with singular interests. is this love?)

I like your name. It's cool. Like, an angel's or something. (obliviously making an astute observation in his flustered desire to impress sephiroth and keep his attention, envious of his dangerous air. if he had an intimidating presence, maybe people would think twice about messing with him. as it stands, jonas seems to completely ignore the instinct telling him to get the fuck out of dodge, far more inclined to believe the thrill up his spine is one of sheer, overwhelming attraction.)

I'm Jonas. What's a guy like me gotta' do to, uh, buy you a drink or something?

(we need help over here)

Edited 2020-04-23 18:22 (UTC)

[Why Does This Keep Happening To Him: A Tale in Three Parts

Sephiroth might not be the most socially competent man, at least when it comes to being friendly and affable-appearing, but he isn’t stupid. He is observant, keenly so, as is the habit of those who prefer to read a room rather than be a part of the crowd; and it would take a simpleton, indeed, to not realize that Jonas is sending an excessive amount of flattery his way. His body language would inform of that, even if the words did not.

He’s flirting with him.

Sephiroth considers turning to walk away, but it’s only the knowledge that this behavior could be caused by the cometflies that has him deciding against it. Maybe it would be better to be blunt—]

I’m less interested in you trying to learn more about me, and more interested in—

[Uh. A beat.]

—why you’re out here. The stars that appealing of a sight to you?

[The training grounds, situated just behind the row of buildings that form the Barracks, are open and wide enough to accommodate several pairs of sparring partners. Though the area had fallen into disrepair upon Sephiroth's arrival, with time, many Mirrorbound became invested in its restoration and upkeep. It is a cleaner now, the ground swept away from wayward detritus. The once-fallen training dummies — scored with endless marks of jabs, stabs, and slices from steel — are now newer, repaired, and perfectly spaced and aligned for those who would test their mettle against an unmoving object.

Sephiroth, in many ways, finds himself bored of unmoving objects. He had long graduated from that mode of training, so far back that he can hardly remember when, and there is no challenge in cleaving wood in half. That is muscle memory, and only a half-second's worth of effort, which is too much effort spent all the same.

And so he tries something different since there is none else to entertain him. He stands with a single gloved hand raised to the air, calling forth a magic that had never come ever since he set foot on this alien planet. He imagines the dummies speared with ice, or set aflame in a great immolation. Or struck with jagged lances of lightning, scenting the air of burnt ozone.

Nothing happens, as the time before. He lowers his hand. The other holds tight against the hilt of a too-long sword, glinting in the sun.]

Useless. [—comes the utterance, to no one in particular.]

[Back home, one strike from Dimitri would shatter a training dummy. Wood, metal, and stone alike splintered and scattered over the even dirt - a mess to clean up. Here, his blows don't fall with the same unchecked force, but he avoids the inanimate partners all the same.

Typically, Dimitri takes care not to interrupt anyone in their business. A simple habit of polite respect for those around him. At the training grounds, however, he finds that practice blanketed by a rush of excitement.

Sparring always has been his favorite way to meet new people.

When he sees a man alone, his eyes immediately rush over his weapon. The sword is long... perhaps equal to his lance in length. How interesting-]

Excuse me! [He walks over, recognizing too late the faint glimmer of frustration on the man's visage. Perhaps a friendly bout will help work whatever's vexing him out.] If you're available, I'd like to volunteer to be your opponent.

[A voice that sounds all-too-enthusiastic creeps past the discontent focused on his (lack of) magic, and Sephiroth moves his attentions inward to outward. He shifts his weight and his blade, Masamune, twinges in the sunlight overhead; today is a cloudless sky, rays of light bright and warm.]

...

[He's a big talker, this one.

To his credit, Sephiroth takes a moment to assess the other, eyes roving across Dimitri form a first impression based on an invisible standard in his head. Countenance, dress, how it might equate to familiarity in and out of a battlefield; if he seeks a sparring partner, this is of interest to him.

Eventually, he says-]

I won't say no to a volunteer. How skilled are you?

Well...

Unfortunately, that's difficult to put in words. [Dimitri approaches as he mulls over the question - describing his combat history feels too removed from the actual experiences. And from the demeanor of this stranger, he doubts the man cares to hear him prattle on about his years of training in this and that.]

I think it'd be easier to show you- [He shifts his spear in his hands, from carrying it to a formal combat stance.]

Ready? [His position is an aggressive one, poised to lunge forward more so than to defend - he fights best when overwhelming his opponent with strength. A component he is partially lacking without his own kind of magic, but has yet to adjust for.

He figures that will be easier to adjust in a fight, as well.]

[Sephiroth likes to have a fleeting idea of what to expect from an opponent; it makes it easier to match skill level. Often, he finds both parties benefit from this adjustment, as it prevents boredom from settling in between crossed blades — the worst possible scenario out of all.

But if this young man would prefer to let his actions inform him instead, then he’ll not press the matter. Dimitri is right; he is not one for prattle, either idle or related to the subject at hand. A man of few words appreciates being spared of them in excess.]

In that case, show me your capabilities.

[Already on he offensive, this one. Ready to strike first, and so Sephiroth waits for the first move to come at him — as if it were a coiled spring just waiting to be unloaded.]

Ready.

[Against any other sword, Dimitri would have an advantage in reach - but not this time. He orients himself as if he's fighting an opponent with a spear instead; he takes two quick paces forward and then thrusts his weapon forward.

Not aimed to test his opponent's weapon, or reaction time, but to drive a true hit.

He won't rely on it connecting - but the momentum behind it is there. If he misses, he'll follow his own steps, closing range to proximity ill suited for either of their weapons.]

[Range is often a problem when it comes to sparring with Sephiroth; inexperienced opponents do not know what to make of such a long blade, nor the reach it grants the silver-haired SOLDIER. But it’s interesting to see someone who wields a spear judge a situation on a different set of working criteria — so seems to be the case with his sparring partner now, who moves forward in a lunge directed straight towards the body.

Interesting, but not unheard of. Sephiroth would be a fool to merely stand in place, however, and his feet move through instinct. A sidestep to the right, a twist of his body, the raise of Masamune’s guard to catch Dimitri’s spear by the haft and push it aside. It leaves room for the other to close a few feet of space, however, and he’s successful in that endeavor.

His lips quirk as he tests the other’s reaction time as a reply, striking at him with two swift swipes of his blade — both angled vertically but at a slant.]

[With less space between them, neither should be able to make any sweeping attacks - which means that the blows to come will be weakened by lack of momentum. The change in constraints comes at a cost; Dimitri closed ground, but his shoulders aligned his back to his opponent.

Which means the two strikes can't be blocked by his spear.

Instead, Dimitri raises armored forearm and buffers the blows with his body. It rattles him, and before he can do anything else he adjusts his grip on his spear and resets his footing.

A piece of his armor hangs loose, but he pays it no mind.

Twisting his torso, he crashes the haft of his spear into the man's side. Most would catch the blow between arm and body in an attempt to immobilize or disarm, and that's what Dimitri is hoping for.]

[Those who regard the state of practice weapons and armor would treat them both with care, but Sephiroth was never trained for delicacy, even outside of the training room. Masamune’s metal, striking clean against the guard of Dimitri’s arm, isn’t given a second thought — even as it hangs loose and partly disconnected as a result. Armor is made to be struck; his own pauldrons are scored with proof of the same.

Dimitri twists and sends the spear’s grip into his side, a blow that Sephiroth takes to gauge just how much it jostles his frame. The answer is… surprisingly more than he expected. His opponent’s frame belies his strength, and he is set back a few inches in a skid. If bruising forms, it will be negligible; for now, his right hand does come down to grip at the haft tightly, followed by a twist to disarm if the other is not careful.

All-in-all, it is very by the book thus far, but Sephiroth does not mind starting steady before giving anyone a good push.]

You’re strong. [-he says, mid-movement.]

[The moment his blow connects, Dimitri adjusts his grip - the pole slides in his hand, but is not pried away when his opponent attempts to disarm him. Now they're both pinned by the same weapon, a proximity created perfectly for Dimitri's reach.

His eyes dart to Sephiroth's face, silent acknowledgement of the compliment.

But their fight is not over; he presses into the steadied pole, breaking the training weapon in two. He retains the bladed end, and twists it to jab forward at the man's neck with in a full lunge.

Even without his crest, Dimitri fights with no restraint.]

[He stands next to Alex, watching as a gaggle of small children dart by them both, shoulders bumping into his legs, uncaring. Sephiroth is not quite certain why she thinks he is very qualified for this job of keeping them entertained; he has no experience to draw upon, his own childhood not exactly the apotheosis of carefree and fanciful.

Already, the children's interactions are transforming into what appears to be a game of tag. Laughter makes its rounds across the group as they assign someone to be "it", and a few choose to get a headstart and begin darting away without preamble.

Coolly, Sephiroth looks at Alex.]

Am I expected to chaperone?

[Surely that is all he is expected to do, right.]

Edited 2020-04-07 20:32 (UTC)

I think they were hoping you would play.

[ At least, if the expectant look on their faces says anything. For whatever reason, kids always got more excited when grown men would play with them. Though many of them seem to lack that type of figure in their lives, or they're busy working, so that isn't too surprising. They seem immune to his aloof demeanor. Even Alex was cautious at first, but that he barely resisted shifter her opinion the other direction. ]

I'm sure they'd appreciate if you did. All you have to do is chase them around a little bit till someone else gets tagged.

[ The merrow is admittedly a little curious to see this stern looking man run about playing tags with kids half his size. ]

[Hoping that he would play?

It’s quite impossible to miss the arch of a silver brow, raising in a way that indicates this was not at all what he had in mind. He is indeed a strange-looking man (though perhaps not that striking in this world), his eyes and hair often an interest to strangers who do not know any better. But frequently his demeanor is more than enough to turn away any lingering, questioning glances. Especially from children who might think he’s suited for a game of tag.

He shakes his head, bangs swaying idly.]

...Wouldn’t you be better suited to that?

I think they're a little tired of me.

[ She's been coming out here for a few months now, and while they did get a little break during the time she was captured, and they were still relieved to see her, didn't mean the kids wouldn't like a little change. ]

Though I guess keeping up with a couple of nine year olds might be too difficult?

[The look he gives her hasn't changed. Flat, with that arching brow still prominent on his features.]

Reverse psychology doesn't work on me. [Dry, but not offended. He would be a little amused, normally, but he doesn't know how to go about this if it's really the expectation of him.] The issue is that I would keep up too well.

[don't you know how to PLAY, sephiroth, geez]

[ She's a little sheepish about getting caught, but it was worth a shot. The rest of his response has her raising an eyebrow this time. ]

Well, you..don't have to take it that seriously...

[ Normally you turn it down a notch when playing with kids. ]

But I'm sure it wouldn't hurt if you caught them a few times?

[ Unless he'd feel that bad about losing to them. ]

Just for a little bit? Please?

[Sephiroth's pride is a hell of a thing, but... maybe not that big of a hell of a thing. It isn't so easily bruised by being caught by children, much less than the idea behind his participation at all.

Still, it is hard to find a reason to deny her request (especially when so kindly asked) that doesn't read as embarrassment, which would be just as bad of an impression to make. So, after a lingering moment-]

I don't want you mentioning it to anyone else you know. If I choose to participate.

[ So he was going yo do it?! Her eyes beam in anticipation and excitement, but she pulls herself back. ]

I won't--I promise!

[ Who would she even tell? Hell, who would believe her? ]

Heeeey are we playing yet!

[ There were puffed cheeks and impatient, stomping feet. ]

Since you took too long-- [ The little girl pushes on Sephiroth's leg.] You're it!

[The children's impatience have caught up to him, and it seems like Sephiroth's pride is going to be as nudged as easily as his leg being tagged as "it".

What a strange notion, children playing in this way. Watching it transpire -- and now dragged into the same -- is still a faraway concept, something he had never participated in until this one, vaguely surreal moment; one in which he agreed to.

He gives Alex one final sidelong look, coolness contrasted with her excitement, and with movement that is surprisingly swift for a man of his size, gives way to a "chase" amongst the group of children. They titter with laughter at the sight of the man with long silver hair heading towards them, humoring them.

Alex had better keep her promise about not sharing this tidbit with anyone.]

[ Alex couldn't even be delighted right away because one second he was in front of her, and the next he was elsewhere. She pulls off her glasses to wipe at them...

The kids seemed excited to see him move though, one even taunting him more. ]

You're never gonna catch me, old man! [ Even sticking his tongue out at him. ]

( closed ) caught in a motion

( urianger )

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( tataru )

( jonas )

my playstation's crying rn

i'm dying i can't believe you rolled w/ it LOL

we're all hos for sephiroth

returns with a crusty tag just for YOU

shines it up with some rust remover, it's FINE

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( dimitri )

tyty sorry for the delay

you're totally fine, no worries!

tyty

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action tags are short im gomen

you're cool! no worries c:

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( alex )

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