AGURIL CATCH-ALL • OPEN!

[trulygifted]

Who: Nico + TBA!
When: Throughout Aguril
Where: All over Aefenglom
What: TBA
Warnings: Cussing, child labour, a very brief allusion to potential child injury, more TBA!

1st - 2nd august • poppin' parties.

( It isn't until after she and Siegfried have parted ways following the wedding fashion show that Nico begins feeling a little strange. You'd think that with a best friend as loved-up as Nero she'd be used to talk of vows, romance, and ever-lasting commitment, but the truth of it is that Nico has spent years fortifying herself against that sort of thing. She ducks out of those conversations, leaves Nero and Kyrie to do their thing when they start looking like they're about to start singing to each other, and throws herself into her work to avoid having to think about how all that exacerbates her own insecurities.

Bonding. Marriage. Depending on someone else and having someone else depend on you — even if it's just to make sure your magic doesn't go crazy and destroy someone's flowers again. Nico's understanding of relationships is that it's better to make sure you can survive alone, for all the best years of her life were spent under the wing of her adoptive grandmother. Justifying her self-imposed isolation leaves a bitter taste in the back of her throat, and the best way to deal with that?

Oh yeah. It's alcohol.

Fortunately for Nico, these celebrations are well-stocked with all sorts of silly, fancy drinks. She doesn't bother gathering up the skirts of her dress as she heads to one of the outdoor bars — shit, it isn't like she's going to wear the thing again anyway — and she sweeps a few strands of flyaway hair back from her face where it's loosened from the messy bun. )

Hey! My good-for-nothin' fiancé just left me at the altar, anyone here gonna buy me a drink to commiserate?

( Her makeup is sparse but her lips have been painted a rich wine-red, and they curve into a confident smile as she brandishes her bouquet. )

Don't be shy, now.

9th - 15th august • forging ahead.

( It's taken Nico a while to gather up the things she'll need for her first real test-run at the Forge, but now that they're getting in to Aguril? She thinks it's about time to give it a shot.

She's had to un-learn a lot of what she already knew in order to make sense of the relationship between alchemy and magitech: it's not like back home, and alchemy doesn't work the way it did in her rotten father's notes, but a lot of the core fundamentals of magitech are reasonably mirrored in home-world physics. The kitchen table has been a half-decent workbench so far, but it's time to dream bigger.

Nico is going to need a lot of heat — and a fair bit of magic, too.

With Nero's man-flu all but cleared up she feels less guilty about leaving him home alone, and has gathered up the spare parts she's been collecting into a threadbare sack she found left-over from the cottage's previous residents. The malfunctioning devil breaker is going to be her experiment today: if she can get it to work again at even half the capacity it used to, it'll be a win, and she's hopeful that what she's learned (plus the materials she's gathered) will get her to her goal.

She's half-way to the Forge when the sack, already groaning under the weight of her tools, gives in to the strain of its burden. There's an almighty clatter as scrap metal and spare cogs scatter across the cobbled floor, the din only added to with an exasperated female: )

Fuck!

( Someone give her a hand? )

16th - 22nd august • hazard at the harbour.

( Now, Nico doesn't really like to talk about it all that much, but she's a sucker when it comes to helping out lost-looking kids. It's why she never means it when she complains about being roped into Nero and Kyrie's activity days, and it's why her muffins are practically famous among the children they look after. Nero knows all he'd have to do is call if they needed her to come over and do some minding.

The harbour kids hit that same chord deep within Nico's chest. Child labour? Strike one, because that should have gone out of fashion decades ago. Poor factory conditions? Strike two. If you're going to make orphaned children work, at least have the decency to make sure they're not going to get sick or injured on the job — especially if you've got them working with any kind of machinery.

... And speaking of. )

Now, have you all been listenin' to what I've said here?

( Nico is standing on a crate before an audience of kids with one hand on her hip, while the other gestures towards the machine's mechanism with the head of a screwdriver. )

It should work way better now, and you won't need to jam your fingers in there to unstick the wheels anymore.

( She suppresses a shudder at what might've happened had one of the children been too late in yanking their hand back out again. Nope, not gonna think about that. Moving on. )

If I catch any of you geniuses messin' with my work, don't think I won't come down here an' find you. My best friend? He's a dragon. And— ( She says pointedly, reaching down to procure the basket she'd stashed behind the crate. ) I won't bring you any more of my world famous muffins. Got it?

wildcard + ooc notes!

Or hit me with something else! Prompt dates are just the dates between which I'd prefer these interactions to happen! I'm not fussy about getting specific, it's just so that I can keep an eye on where she is and what she's doing. Feel free to message me any time if you'd like to plot something out, otherwise have at her.

( ooc: This is open to all! Feel free to message me any time if you'd like to plot something out, I can be found on Plurk scry or Discord @ pearls#4530. Thanks! )

Comments

[supersoldier]

[It isn't a matter of how it will end, of who will be the victor and who will be lain to the ground, defeated with their pride left in tatters.  What matters is the thrill of the fight (what he was bred for, what Shinra perfected in his blood) and the hot-blooded pleasure of the hunt (the instinct of a bird of prey), all of which he might can wring from her if he tries. A measure of bright entertainment before the inevitable loss.

A part of him is sure she won’t disappoint.

Nico lights a flame in her hands and warmth blossoms in a hazy circle around them, casting their shadows deep and long across the ground. Her threat only acts as the spark that causes him to commit to the game — he likes her bravado, likes the farce of that magic being enough to stop him. They might as well be little more than flickering embers thrown against a storm.

Sephiroth takes a long step back, offering more space between them.]

I want you to. That, or run, winding through the trees as you try to escape.

[His smile is sincere; but so utterly different than the subtle thing he presented her before, with their fingers pressed into the cool soil of a fresh planter.]

Fight or flight,—

[There’s an arcing flash of silver that passes by, missing her by purposeful centimeters at most. Masamune might have cleaved across her front if she had moved only a fraction in that moment — it’s a warning, an encouragement, a figurative cracked whip to get her adrenaline soaring and her body reacting.]

—decide now.

[trulygifted]

... Escape?

( Nico looks at him hard, pinpricks of amber slipping from her palms to fizzle out against the ground as a beat of silence stretches between them. She notices for the first time that Sephiroth seems somehow wrong: his smile is sincere but predatory, his eyes are bright but wickedly piercing, and the part of him that wants to play has been steeped in something a little more cruel than she would have expected from him. It's unsettling, to say the least. Nico was beginning to enjoy the company of the man who taught her how to plant bulbs in the Coven's greenhouse, but this? The Moons have turned him into someone recognisable but not; someone different enough to put her on her guard. )

You're serious, ain't—

( The tip of his sword skims across the front of her chest, so close that for one awful beat Nico wonders whether she isn't about to split open in front of him. It catches her breath in her throat, makes gooseflesh rise to her skin and her pupils tighten with fear, and the thud of her heart flushes hotter, louder, as it quickens to a distracting pound. )

... Fine.

( Fear, it turns out, is one hell of an emotion. The woods seem to reel around them as she speaks through the onslaught of her panicked senses, her body translating it into a kind of morbid excitement in the hopes it might help her survive. Every cell seems to thrum with it. )

If that's what you want, let's do this — but you're gonna have to catch me first.

( First left, then right. Nico hurls the fireballs towards him before turning to sprint into the trees; she needs to buy herself a little time to pull her magic to the surface again and shape it into something useful. Branches and bushes are pushed aside as she wills the shimmer in her veins to just respond — but where the full moons strengthen the Monsters, they leech the Witches of the one thing that could protect them. )

Fuck, fuck— come on!

[supersoldier]

[The first fireball misses its mark, the second collides like orange mercury against the raised steel of Masamune, dissipating in the next few seconds. He can feel the heat lick the skin of his exposed hands; he finds the prospect of her conjuring forth more of that flame exciting, should she manage to somehow ensconce him in it.

But for now, she flees. And he takes to the sky.

The branches, rather, of the shivering trees high above their heads. Landing on one branch to propel to another, they shake and groan beneath the furor of his energy and excitement. He can hear her as she weaves through the underbrush, thinks that he might feel every vibration of her breath in her lungs — or her heart pulsing in her throat — but perhaps that’s imagined on his part, a predator's instinct given to fantastic notions of what sensations could await him should he catch his prey.

He doesn’t mean her any true harm, of course, but one might be hard-pressed to believe that if they saw what was transpiring: his relentless pursuit with every protest of leaves above, the glint of deadly steel in his hands, and a pointed descent to the ground to cut off her route. For a moment, her vision may swell with only black feathers as he swoops just above her, landing in her path in a half-crouch. His arm sweeps out, and Masamune’s cutting arc follows. Bramble and forest detritus is cut clean in half.

A clear warning — or a proverbial cat playing with a mouse?]

Not fast enough. What will you do now?

[trulygifted]

( When Nico chances a glance back over her shoulder it's to see that Sephiroth is gone, which she immediately decides is far worse than watching him approach in that swirl of dark-feathered steel. She isn't naive enough to imagine he's given up: he's a winged, military hunter with predatory urges drawn out by the moons, and a tell-tale rustle from overhead confirms a theory already sinking low into her stomach. He doesn't give her the time it would take to look up; Nico skids to a halt as he lands in front of her again, the bright flash of his sword forcing her body into an odd little skip back. )

Hey!

( He's enjoying himself, she realises. Sephiroth is enjoying making her fight, watching her run, swatting out with his sword just just to relish the reaction, and her cheeks flush pink with frustrated humiliation as she lifts her chin again. )

Is this just what you do on the full moons, huh?

( She lifts her hands again, but the flame sputters out before it manages to form an orb. A tight breath sticks in her throat as her heartbeat knocks a little harder, the rush of it loud in her ears as she forces herself to meet Sephiroth's gaze again. )

Get out your acorn-dick energy sword an' mess with people?

( Nico tries a one-handed orb this time — it's weaker, smaller, and successful because of it, and her face lights up for a moment as she winds back her arm to throw it at Sephiroth. It feels pathetic, but she doesn't care. Her aim is to show him that even scared, even hopelessly outmatched, she isn't going to give up. Bolstered by her own bravado, Nico takes a step forwards this time as though weighing up marching right into his space and giving him a shove. )

Well fuck you!

( ... No. She's wearing a dress, for fuck's sake, not something she can scrap in, and so instead of stomping forwards she opts to try and pull another little fireball into existence again. )

[supersoldier]

[Of course he’s enjoying himself. Even without the presence of the moons in the sky, Sephiroth always found enjoyment in the one thing he was raised for — fighting, training, cutting down his opponent. There is nothing more exhilarating than the feeling of steel clashing against steel, or veins throbbing with blood and exertion, and he's at home in it. It is all a game, most days (most days, no one can so much as lay a scratch on him), and tonight, it is very much the same.

She’s so bold, though, tossing another fireball his way. This time, Sephiroth allows it to graze him, catching hungry embers across his left wing. It's warm as they singe a handful of plumes, but he spreads the appendages wide — such massive, dark things — and the fire dies under the momentum, wisping smoke behind him.

It would be so easy to down her. She’s no SOLDIER, not some corporate-created super soldier to be used for war. But he doesn’t want to end this too quickly, preferring to give her a passing, sporting chance instead. Nico looks as though she might walk right up to him, and he indulges her, doing the same in long, singular strides with wings flared at his back.

He turns Masamune point-downward, and sinks it into the earth. It sticks and stays there, a long stretch of steel, and he leaves it behind him as he approaches. Sephiroth doesn’t need it. Maybe that’s an insult to her, but to a moon-added brain, it is a practicality to make the encounter last.]

No sword then.

[The gap between them closes, air heavy. Tension surely about to snap with a move by either one of them.]

Is that better?

[trulygifted]

( Nico's breath stutters in the back of her throat as Sephiroth closes the space between them, silver-pale yet somehow dark as the night encroaching in on them from all sides. It thrills through her body like so much electricity — keeps her rooted to the spot as her gaze snags on the luxurious spread of his wings — and her pupils pinprick on yet another rush of adrenaline that floods its way through her core.

No, this isn't better. This is deeply, arrestingly worse, in no small part because of how easily he rids himself of his sword. Sephiroth is a man confident enough to hunt with little more than his own physicality, and that has Nico's pulse thundering in her throat. When she speaks again it's a just a little breathless, just a little ragged around the edges: )

... You're a real piece of work, you know that?

( But the tension is too much, and Nico is bold — bold enough to try one last attempt to throw him off. She wreathes her hand in a weak shimmer of flame and curls her fingers into a fist, which she pulls back and swings on a wild trajectory to connect with Sephiroth's jaw. It feels like a desperate, slightly manic gesture, if only because she already doubts that she'll land her hit, but she refuses to let herself be cowed when he hasn't so much as touched her. )

[supersoldier]

[And so the figurative thread snaps. Nico summons forth fire and swings it straight at his jawline, and Sephiroth does something that might surprise her — he allows it to connect, feels that crack across his face and the licking of flame that gutters against his skin. It’s stingingly hot, but it won’t even leave a burn. His head does little more than jostle, his wings flare in tizzied excitement, and he just looks at her again and smiles.

Talons reach out and grasp at the wrist belonging to the hand that had just struck him. He aims to pull her forward, yanking unkindly, as though to keel her balance awry and keep captive the origin of her magic — her fingertips — in the same motion.

Close like this, he is certain he can feel the blood throbbing in her veins. The temptation to feel the heartbeat in her neck manifests into action, his free hand coming up to slide across and just under her jaw, where he can feel the quick-fire tapping of her pulse beneath. It’s exciting, in a way, to have this kind of control; to feel delicate anatomy housed in someone so openly rebellious.

So near that his hair might tickle her face and neck, he says—]

Your magic’s weak. What happened to the flame that destroyed my flowers?

[He almost laughs, breathy and barely-heard.]

I wish I could show you what mine could do, once. [In an admission pulled forth by the addling nature of the moons, and the moons only—] I’ve been told it razes entire towns. I think yours could, too — with enough practice. That would make the hunt more interesting. You'd put up more of a fight then, wouldn't you?

[trulygifted]

( Nothing. Her punch does nothing — it doesn't even leave a mark — and Nico realises that this might be the first time she's ever experienced feeling truly powerless. Back home her guns have always kept her safe enough, even if all they did was hold back the demons until Nero arrived, but this time there's no Devil Hunter coming to make mincemeat of this particular ... problem.

Sephiroth isn't an enemy — not really. He's just a vicious, beautiful nuisance.

He pulls her in closer, setting her off her axis and leaving her wobbling a little as he lifts her hand up higher. He's — those are talons, real talons setting against the tender skin inside her wrist, although the fact that they don't pierce supports the idea that he really is just outside looking for fun. Sephiroth has had plenty of opportunities to do her harm — more than she cares to think about, really — and yet here he is, leaning in close to share her warmth and talk about his flowers. )

R-Razes entire towns, huh?

( Nico makes an irritable sound in the back of her throat when she realises that inherited stutter is back. A deep breath follows, then a long exhale, as she tries to get ahold of herself again. )

Sounds like they were talkin' from experience. Is that really somethin' to brag about? Wiping out whole towns like they're nothin'?

( She grits her teeth, squirming just a little to test the strength of his grasp. )

Think I'll just stick to gettin' strong enough to deal with the assholes creepin' the woods at night, if it's all the same to you.