[Sephiroth makes a faint sound from the back of his throat, like a scoff that wasn't quite given clearance to leave his lips. It sounds amused in a way that only he can manage -- a sort of knowing humor squeezed dry of life. A cake-making genius, was it?]
Is that right?
[He turns, then, to cross over to a table adorned with tiny, individually potted flowers. There's room enough for the basket to rest there, and he places it down for now, though a hand dips in just low enough to procure two of the bulbs. He speaks in the interim.]
...Scientifically-minded. Putting things together, taking them apart, wondering what makes something tick. I've been around your type before, and I know that you're all endlessly stubborn.
[There are less flattering adjectives that he could apply to scientists, some old faces far more deserving than others, but he spares her that undeserved comparison. Without preamble, he turns on his heel and tosses a single bulb in her direction. It spins in a gentle arc -- catch, Nico!]
And that stubbornness is bolstered by curiosity and the desire to learn. You can consider this moment an exercise in plant biology, then.
[In other words: she's already here, so why waste the opportunity? Stay and plant a bulb or two.]
( Honestly? Sephiroth's offer is more than she was expecting, not least because she'd assumed he might just try to shoo her on out just to make extra sure to avoid any further accidents. That he'd follow up his not entirely flattering assessment of scientists by tossing her a bulb is ... surprising, to say the least, and Nico's eyebrows bump up her forehead as her smile grows wide. )
Really?
( "An exercise in plant biology", yeah? She's beginning to realise that this might just be the kind of person Sephiroth is: in the same way she likes to turn things into science, perhaps he just finds things easier if he approaches life as a series of exercises. It certainly wouldn't be the strangest thing she's heard, especially if her hunch that he's military turns out to be right. Nico moves around to where he's standing and crouches to poke at a planter, dipping a finger into the damp, warm soil before rubbing a little against the pad of her thumb.
Nicoletta Goldstein, learning how to plant things. Who'd have ever thought. )
I've been around your type too, y'know. Practical, like things done a certain way, no time for messin' around or bein' a dumbass ...
( A quiet chuckle follows, and she shakes her head. )
They all turned out to be army guys.
( Brown eyes lift to look back up at him, one eyebrow raised in question. )
[Sephiroth has already half-turned to assess the state of the long planter stretched out before them. An artistic mindset might equate it to a canvas untouched, but he can only see it as an empty space, waiting for a line of bulbs to be slotted into their proper spots, much like infantrymen lined up to wait at attention. Her assessment, then, is both correct and starkly intuitive.
It earns her a look as he crouches down in a gathering of dark clothes, black feathers, and hair that sweeps the floor next to his boots.]
Yes.
[The answer is complicated, as all things from home have become. But in its most simplistic form, her assumption is right on the money.]
I’ve spent much of my life in the military. Ever since I was a child.
[He reaches out to push aside a small mound of soil with two fingers. It leaves an indent in the planter, just deep enough to slot in the little flower bulb.]
Practicality isn’t an expectation, it’s a requirement.
( That's the thing about Nico: she's about as subtle as a hurricane, but that doesn't mean she isn't both observant and sensitive when she needs to be. Sephiroth wouldn't be the first to find himself on the receiving end of a such an educated guess. )
Since you were a kid, huh?
( She winces a little. It's hard to figure out what to say to that: Nico doesn't have too much experience with the military proper, but she does know that children never become soldiers because they have healthy and happy home lives. Would asking about his mom and dad be insensitive? Probably, because what kind of parents would enrol their son into the military while he was a child? And if that wasn't the case, what happened to him that ended up putting him on the path of a soldier? )
How old are you now, anyway? ( She watches him dip his fingers into the soil to make a neat little hole, presumably for the bulb. ) You don't look much older than me, but ... all that grey hair's thrown me off.
( Which isn't strictly true; Nero's hair colour is pretty similar, but then he's got demon blood flowing through his veins making him look like a Grade-A badass. A hint amusement touches the corners of her lips: )
And speakin' of, I dunno how "practical" it is to have hair that touches the floor, Angelface.
( Said as she reaches over to press the bulb into the dark, warm space he's created. )
[Since he was a kid. His childhood was defined by the same array of environments, of people, of expectations — the laboratories, the scientists and researchers and their assistants. And the military, the commanders and officers and the battlefield lit with furor and blood. A part of Sephiroth realizes that no one else quite has had the same experiences, that their younger years were defined more by simpler domestic qualities, and not the bright pinprick of needles or the same battle scenario fought ad nauseam until he had beaten his own time a hundred times over. But this mundanity strikes him as foreign; abnormal to his normal. He thinks little of it — even now, disillusioned by Shinra, he does not give them enough credit for stealing as much from him as they had.
Not yet, anyway.
But that isn't what she asks, and it's easy enough to reply with his age despite the comment about his "grey" hair.]
I'm twenty-two.
[Doing the math from his file is easy enough, and simpler still to keep track of. Nico slots the bulb into the cool tract of earth, and Sephiroth begins to work the same shape into the soil for his own bulb.]
My hair is practical in its own way. [He explains mildly, as though his own vanity has nothing to do with it.] Most would call it a disadvantage, a detriment in a fight. It could get in the way, or an enemy might come close enough to grab it, then force me open to an attack.
[As though to illustrate, he sweeps one of his long bangs over his shoulder, having fallen into his face as he dips his head low.]
With me, that's an impossibility. There's no need to keep it short; thus, it's an intimidation tactic. Shinra's marketing would agree.
( Twenty-two. A year younger than she is and already so serious; a child solder who's never once smiled in her presence, and who she's only really encountered doing things on his own. And what's that he just said about ... "Shinra?" That their marketing department support keeping his hair long as an intimidation tactic? Nico wants to scoff — that isn't a proper reason to decide to do anything.
Nico shakes her head, then pulls in a deep breath that she releases in a low whistle. )
... I guess you must be pretty good then.
( His hair gleams as he pulls the bang over his shoulder and Nico can't help but wonder when he last cut it — or when it last did become a problem in the middle of battle. Probably a long, long time ago, judging but the length of it now. For some reason this revelation makes Nico feel a little sad. )
My business partner Nero, he's good too. We don't work for the military or anything though — our job's huntin' demons. Freelance. He does the fightin', I make the weapons.
( Keen to practice, Nico presses her own fingers into the soil a few inches down from Sephiroth to make another bulb-sized space. May as well get a few more planted up while they're at it, right? )
[“Pretty good” is an understatement, and Sephiroth would once have thought it strange to hear. But now, there is a quiet solace in knowing that most don’t look at him bearing expectation and barely-reined-in awe, and instead can form their impressions based on interaction, rather than secondhand tales of inhuman heroism or, yes, Shinra’s marketing.
So “pretty good” works well enough for now, and the only correction he provides is that of the company itself.]
Shinra isn’t a person. It’s a power company.
[Does it seem strange that a power company would employ some mode of military power? It is, but to someone hailing from Gaia, and who grew up under that company’s wing, the idea is still embedded in his bones as normal — despite his respect for the mega-corporation long discarded.]
I worked for them for years. I don’t consider myself to be in their employ any longer.
[To say the least. To get any deeper is to tread into ugly, unflattering territory, and Sephiroth is choosy about who is allowed trespass.]
Nico appears to be making room for more bulbs than he’s fetched from the basket, so Sephiroth makes a move to stand and gather a handful more, as many as he can carry — he returns and lays them out before them in the soil, ready to be planted one by one.]
...Your business partner, is he in this city with you?
[Demon hunting has little context for him; he imagines only large and twisted monsters (irony, given this place), mindless and in need of slaying.]
( That definitely trips her up a little. A power company? Nico had assumed that "Shinra" was some kind of government official heading up their department of defence — but then he'd never specified what kind of military force he worked for, did he? The fact that it was a private one is deeply uncomfortable (and equally uncomfortably explains the "child" element of it), and Nico shifts as that discomfort settles deeper into her stomach.
Can she even ask about that? Sephiroth changes the subject smoothly after putting a little distance between him and them; he doesn't work for them now, so ... maybe she should just leave it at that. Nico is nosey, but she isn't stupid. Perhaps better to let that lie for the time being. )
Yeah, he is. The guy who owns the company, too, but he's been in a coma since he got here.
( Nico holds up a hand. )
Which ain't too weird for him, before you say anythin'. We got him set up all comfy back at the cottage.
( With the bulbs laid out, Nico begins slotting them into the holes she's created. )
It's kinda hard to get work demon hunting when there's no demons around though. I guess it's just as well there's always people needin' help with stuff, huh?
[A coma? A matter for concern, normally, but apparently this equates to “normal” for this man. Curious, but not so much to ask after it; he has heard stranger from the Mirrorbound, and more unbelievable, than that.
Sephiroth moves a step or two aside, so that they might utilize the whole stretch of the planter, dipping his fingers into the shallow soil once more to create a few more spots. He spares Nico the occasional glance, seen through the sheer of silver bangs that rebelliously slide over his shoulders.]
...It’s a city full of people, and people always need something. There’s work every month, if you don’t mind tasks that are likely… more simplistic than you’d prefer.
[Ask him about the time he looked for a lost cat, only to hunt down the wrong cat. Actually, don’t.]
Still. There may not be demons to kill — whatever that entails — but there are the beasts infected by the Cwyld. Have you seen one?
( "More simplistic than she'd prefer" is right, although she can't complain too much. Nico has been sensible about the odd jobs she's taken to tide herself and Nero over so far: anything that's been able to teach her a new skill, or get her used to the flora and fauna of the place? Sold. Right now her main goal is to soak up as much information as possible so she can make herself feel useful again. )
I heard about them, sure, but I've never seen one.
( She shifts from her crouch to her knees, sitting back on her ankles to get a little more comfortable. )
You reckon there's cunes to be made in goin' out on a hunt?
( Nero has been bringing in his share of the household funds by doing a bit of exterminating here and there, but going straight for the infected beasts could be a reasonable suggestion. If someone's willing to pay them for it, why not? )
Oftentimes, not a hunt specifically. But the need for someone to protect the researchers, or members of the Coven, who want to set foot in dangerous territory to learn more about the Cwyld. Essentially the role of a bodyguard.
[He shifts a little, too, for the sake of a more comfortable position. It seems as though they are both committed to spending an ample time in the greenhouse for now.]
Your friend might not have any trouble with them. But I would suggest you keep to the city if you're not trained to fight.
[A pause, spoken so plainly that one might miss it for the joke it is-]
Are you sure you don’t want to begin a career in botany?
( Bodyguarding? That could definitely be a lucrative source of income, and in her opinion there's no-one better suited to the job. While she'd probably not admit it to his face, his skill in monster hunting rivals her own in weapon smithing; between them, she doesn't see why they couldn't bring Devil May Cry to Aefenglom. A bit of advertising, a few impressive kills under their belts—
But then Sephiroth pops on his clown nose, and Nico just stares at him for a moment before feeling a smirk curve her lips. )
I dunno, you sure you don't wanna hang up your boots an' become a comedian?
( She flicks a little soil at him — you know, since they're both adults here. )
Your faith in me is real nice an' all, but flash-frying those flowers just the once was way more than enough for me.
no subject
Is that right?
[He turns, then, to cross over to a table adorned with tiny, individually potted flowers. There's room enough for the basket to rest there, and he places it down for now, though a hand dips in just low enough to procure two of the bulbs. He speaks in the interim.]
...Scientifically-minded. Putting things together, taking them apart, wondering what makes something tick. I've been around your type before, and I know that you're all endlessly stubborn.
[There are less flattering adjectives that he could apply to scientists, some old faces far more deserving than others, but he spares her that undeserved comparison. Without preamble, he turns on his heel and tosses a single bulb in her direction. It spins in a gentle arc -- catch, Nico!]
And that stubbornness is bolstered by curiosity and the desire to learn. You can consider this moment an exercise in plant biology, then.
[In other words: she's already here, so why waste the opportunity? Stay and plant a bulb or two.]
no subject
( Honestly? Sephiroth's offer is more than she was expecting, not least because she'd assumed he might just try to shoo her on out just to make extra sure to avoid any further accidents. That he'd follow up his not entirely flattering assessment of scientists by tossing her a bulb is ... surprising, to say the least, and Nico's eyebrows bump up her forehead as her smile grows wide. )
Really?
( "An exercise in plant biology", yeah? She's beginning to realise that this might just be the kind of person Sephiroth is: in the same way she likes to turn things into science, perhaps he just finds things easier if he approaches life as a series of exercises. It certainly wouldn't be the strangest thing she's heard, especially if her hunch that he's military turns out to be right. Nico moves around to where he's standing and crouches to poke at a planter, dipping a finger into the damp, warm soil before rubbing a little against the pad of her thumb.
Nicoletta Goldstein, learning how to plant things. Who'd have ever thought. )
I've been around your type too, y'know. Practical, like things done a certain way, no time for messin' around or bein' a dumbass ...
( A quiet chuckle follows, and she shakes her head. )
They all turned out to be army guys.
( Brown eyes lift to look back up at him, one eyebrow raised in question. )
That your thing too?
no subject
It earns her a look as he crouches down in a gathering of dark clothes, black feathers, and hair that sweeps the floor next to his boots.]
Yes.
[The answer is complicated, as all things from home have become. But in its most simplistic form, her assumption is right on the money.]
I’ve spent much of my life in the military. Ever since I was a child.
[He reaches out to push aside a small mound of soil with two fingers. It leaves an indent in the planter, just deep enough to slot in the little flower bulb.]
Practicality isn’t an expectation, it’s a requirement.
no subject
( That's the thing about Nico: she's about as subtle as a hurricane, but that doesn't mean she isn't both observant and sensitive when she needs to be. Sephiroth wouldn't be the first to find himself on the receiving end of a such an educated guess. )
Since you were a kid, huh?
( She winces a little. It's hard to figure out what to say to that: Nico doesn't have too much experience with the military proper, but she does know that children never become soldiers because they have healthy and happy home lives. Would asking about his mom and dad be insensitive? Probably, because what kind of parents would enrol their son into the military while he was a child? And if that wasn't the case, what happened to him that ended up putting him on the path of a soldier? )
How old are you now, anyway? ( She watches him dip his fingers into the soil to make a neat little hole, presumably for the bulb. ) You don't look much older than me, but ... all that grey hair's thrown me off.
( Which isn't strictly true; Nero's hair colour is pretty similar, but then he's got demon blood flowing through his veins making him look like a Grade-A badass. A hint amusement touches the corners of her lips: )
And speakin' of, I dunno how "practical" it is to have hair that touches the floor, Angelface.
( Said as she reaches over to press the bulb into the dark, warm space he's created. )
no subject
Not yet, anyway.
But that isn't what she asks, and it's easy enough to reply with his age despite the comment about his "grey" hair.]
I'm twenty-two.
[Doing the math from his file is easy enough, and simpler still to keep track of. Nico slots the bulb into the cool tract of earth, and Sephiroth begins to work the same shape into the soil for his own bulb.]
My hair is practical in its own way. [He explains mildly, as though his own vanity has nothing to do with it.] Most would call it a disadvantage, a detriment in a fight. It could get in the way, or an enemy might come close enough to grab it, then force me open to an attack.
[As though to illustrate, he sweeps one of his long bangs over his shoulder, having fallen into his face as he dips his head low.]
With me, that's an impossibility. There's no need to keep it short; thus, it's an intimidation tactic. Shinra's marketing would agree.
no subject
( Twenty-two. A year younger than she is and already so serious; a child solder who's never once smiled in her presence, and who she's only really encountered doing things on his own. And what's that he just said about ... "Shinra?" That their marketing department support keeping his hair long as an intimidation tactic? Nico wants to scoff — that isn't a proper reason to decide to do anything.
Nico shakes her head, then pulls in a deep breath that she releases in a low whistle. )
... I guess you must be pretty good then.
( His hair gleams as he pulls the bang over his shoulder and Nico can't help but wonder when he last cut it — or when it last did become a problem in the middle of battle. Probably a long, long time ago, judging but the length of it now. For some reason this revelation makes Nico feel a little sad. )
My business partner Nero, he's good too. We don't work for the military or anything though — our job's huntin' demons. Freelance. He does the fightin', I make the weapons.
( Keen to practice, Nico presses her own fingers into the soil a few inches down from Sephiroth to make another bulb-sized space. May as well get a few more planted up while they're at it, right? )
You work for this Shinra person?
no subject
So “pretty good” works well enough for now, and the only correction he provides is that of the company itself.]
Shinra isn’t a person. It’s a power company.
[Does it seem strange that a power company would employ some mode of military power? It is, but to someone hailing from Gaia, and who grew up under that company’s wing, the idea is still embedded in his bones as normal — despite his respect for the mega-corporation long discarded.]
I worked for them for years. I don’t consider myself to be in their employ any longer.
[To say the least. To get any deeper is to tread into ugly, unflattering territory, and Sephiroth is choosy about who is allowed trespass.]
Nico appears to be making room for more bulbs than he’s fetched from the basket, so Sephiroth makes a move to stand and gather a handful more, as many as he can carry — he returns and lays them out before them in the soil, ready to be planted one by one.]
...Your business partner, is he in this city with you?
[Demon hunting has little context for him; he imagines only large and twisted monsters (irony, given this place), mindless and in need of slaying.]
no subject
( That definitely trips her up a little. A power company? Nico had assumed that "Shinra" was some kind of government official heading up their department of defence — but then he'd never specified what kind of military force he worked for, did he? The fact that it was a private one is deeply uncomfortable (and equally uncomfortably explains the "child" element of it), and Nico shifts as that discomfort settles deeper into her stomach.
Can she even ask about that? Sephiroth changes the subject smoothly after putting a little distance between him and them; he doesn't work for them now, so ... maybe she should just leave it at that. Nico is nosey, but she isn't stupid. Perhaps better to let that lie for the time being. )
Yeah, he is. The guy who owns the company, too, but he's been in a coma since he got here.
( Nico holds up a hand. )
Which ain't too weird for him, before you say anythin'. We got him set up all comfy back at the cottage.
( With the bulbs laid out, Nico begins slotting them into the holes she's created. )
It's kinda hard to get work demon hunting when there's no demons around though. I guess it's just as well there's always people needin' help with stuff, huh?
no subject
Sephiroth moves a step or two aside, so that they might utilize the whole stretch of the planter, dipping his fingers into the shallow soil once more to create a few more spots. He spares Nico the occasional glance, seen through the sheer of silver bangs that rebelliously slide over his shoulders.]
...It’s a city full of people, and people always need something. There’s work every month, if you don’t mind tasks that are likely… more simplistic than you’d prefer.
[Ask him about the time he looked for a lost cat, only to hunt down the wrong cat. Actually, don’t.]
Still. There may not be demons to kill — whatever that entails — but there are the beasts infected by the Cwyld. Have you seen one?
no subject
( "More simplistic than she'd prefer" is right, although she can't complain too much. Nico has been sensible about the odd jobs she's taken to tide herself and Nero over so far: anything that's been able to teach her a new skill, or get her used to the flora and fauna of the place? Sold. Right now her main goal is to soak up as much information as possible so she can make herself feel useful again. )
I heard about them, sure, but I've never seen one.
( She shifts from her crouch to her knees, sitting back on her ankles to get a little more comfortable. )
You reckon there's cunes to be made in goin' out on a hunt?
( Nero has been bringing in his share of the household funds by doing a bit of exterminating here and there, but going straight for the infected beasts could be a reasonable suggestion. If someone's willing to pay them for it, why not? )
no subject
[He shifts a little, too, for the sake of a more comfortable position. It seems as though they are both committed to spending an ample time in the greenhouse for now.]
Your friend might not have any trouble with them. But I would suggest you keep to the city if you're not trained to fight.
[A pause, spoken so plainly that one might miss it for the joke it is-]
Are you sure you don’t want to begin a career in botany?
no subject
( Bodyguarding? That could definitely be a lucrative source of income, and in her opinion there's no-one better suited to the job. While she'd probably not admit it to his face, his skill in monster hunting rivals her own in weapon smithing; between them, she doesn't see why they couldn't bring Devil May Cry to Aefenglom. A bit of advertising, a few impressive kills under their belts—
But then Sephiroth pops on his clown nose, and Nico just stares at him for a moment before feeling a smirk curve her lips. )
I dunno, you sure you don't wanna hang up your boots an' become a comedian?
( She flicks a little soil at him — you know, since they're both adults here. )
Your faith in me is real nice an' all, but flash-frying those flowers just the once was way more than enough for me.
no subject
Fair enough. We'll make certain that doesn't happen again. I would hate for these bulbs to go to waste.
[And so they will; at this moment, at least, making certain there will be something in this planter to sprout, to look forward to, in the future.]
...Let's plant the rest.