http://estaunsinterius.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] estaunsinterius.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] paixaorpg2008-03-03 06:52 pm

In which All of Hell's considerable Fury may in fact break Loose... [Active]

Character(s): Sephiroth, Cid, the majority of ShinRa...
Content: The past confronts the future. ...Or something.
Setting: Cid's Shop
Time: Early afternoon
Warnings: ...I think the only potential warning I -don't- have to make is about sexual content, actually.

Although everything in Sephiroth's considerable training told him he should be walking into this situation with weapons drawn, he stood across the street from the shop empty handed, having left everything - including his materia and armor - in his hotel room. He felt strangely naked, without his equipment; all he carried was a set of potions.

Not like he needed much else if the situation called for it, though, as Zack had so poignantly reminded him. He rather hoped it would not.

The arrival of Rufus Shinra had been unexpected, and he wasn't really sure how he felt about it. He'd spoken to the man before, of course. Both as he was now and his childhood self. This place had an odd way of playing with one's perception of time.

At least the Remnants were not here. That was a can of worms he prefered to leave dead and buried, if at all possible. Kadaj -still- annoyed him, just through the memory of their meetings.

Steeling himself and uttering a short prayer to whatever deities chose to watch this event, he made his way across the street, and knocked on the door of a man who dearly wanted to see him dead.

[identity profile] mustcatchme1st.livejournal.com 2008-03-04 07:44 pm (UTC)(link)
"You ever heard of being hospitable and actually inviting people in, old man?" Zack teased with a tone as light as he could manage at the moment, as he came up alongside the doorway with a Cloud possibly in tow. He wasn't defending Sephiroth, he wasn't, he convinced himself. Just stating a fact that the other man's guest relations skills were slightly lacking. By a lot.

Zack shifted his shoulder, looking as if he was readjusting his Buster sword to a more comfortably holstered position, more intent on emphasizing the fact that the blade was there. Temporarily avoiding Sephiroth's eyes, he was thinking that this might be harder than he had thought. D@mmit, should have been equipped with a summon when he'd died. At the very least, it would have bought them time to hightail it out of there if things went pear shaped.

But as Angeal used to say, all things avoided tend to turn around and bite him in the @ss, Zack's particularly. Sometimes even literally. Nodding tightly at the slightly taller man, Zack couldn't help but keep his distance and stare. After the intial perusal to ensure that Sephiroth wasn't carrying his blade (and honestly, Zack doubted the man - as ingenious as he was - could even come up with a place to hide that weapon in his clothes), Zack continued to stare. The man looked, well, normal, as relative as that term could be affixed to a man like Sephiroth. No fanatical insane gleam in his eyes, no incoherent mumblings. Just...Sephiroth as he looked before everything went to Hel.

"I see your taste in fashion hasn't changed much."