[Log] Pyro & Sephiroth
Who: Pyro (
loluronfire) and Sephiroth (
thefuturemaker)
What: Pyro beats the snot out of Sephiroth before he moves away~ because he can!
When: After this.
Where: On the roof!
Rating: R? It's v. violent.
After finding his room destroyed, Sephiroth had gone to the next best place: the war room. He wasn't planning to stay there, but it was quiet, and it had a map of the town, making it the ideal place to decide where he was going to relocate to semi-permanently. He wasn't concerned about Pyro, really; nothing suggested to him that there was anything to be concerned about: he wasn't afraid of a little fire.
When he got to the roof he paused at the edge, surveying the town far below, trying to pick out the street where he'd killed seven residents. That would be a good place to start, perhaps; and he wouldn't need to take anything but his sword and his journal, both of which he had on him.
Pyro punched the roof-access door off its hinges after accidentally crushing the handle, huffing a sigh of annoyance. He hadn't figured out how to fly, and hell if he could figure out how to use the x-ray vision, but the most sporadic power he'd gained was the super strength. Really, it was just getting ridiculous.
Not that he was complaining about it, it was just ... new. He'd had years to perfect his pyrokinesis, and he was starting to miss that expertise.
He watched as the door skidded across the roof before slowing to a stop and grinned at it, turning to see if he had company; he very much did. Sephiroth.
"Nice day out," he said cheekily to get the man's attention, hands in his pockets. He was going to break a bone for every death threat he'd been given, and then some. "I can't believe you didn't like what we did with your room, though."
The sound of the door skidding across the roof alerted Sephiroth that someone had come to join him. That alone didn't particularly surprise him; what did was that it was Pyro who had destroyed the door. He had been certain that the boy's only skill was with fire, but it must have taken quite a bit of force to tear the door from its hinges, and--
Was the handle crushed? Sephiroth squinted at it. Yes, yes it was, he decided. Interesting.
He glared at Pyro for a moment, outwardly unperturbed.
"You can do it again," he said indifferently, turning back to the view of the town. "I'm finished with it."
"Why, so it can go unappreciated a second time?" Pyro wandered over, before deciding that the difference in their height was ridiculous and taking a few steps back. What was with all the freaking tall people around here, anyway? "Hardly seems fair."
He flexed his fingers, palm itching for the weight of his lighter. He'd given it to Superboy-Prime to hold onto for the week; he would definitely get more use out of it. Didn't mean Pyro didn't miss it, though.
"Planning to go hide out again?" he asked conversationally, tossing a sideways glance in the general direction that Sephiroth was looking, "didn't work out too well for you the past few times, did it?"
"In fact it did," said Sephiroth. "The only way to get any measure of peace here is to leave."
After a moment of contemplative silence, he put his thumb under the cross-guard of his sword and popped it out of the scabbard, just a little. "So," he said, in a casual, conversational tone of voice, "I believe I told you that I would kill you. And here we are. Are you ready to die?"
Pyro let out a bark of laughter. He wondered if it would make Sephiroth angry if he bent that sword into a pretzel. It was way too comically long, anyway.
"Not really," he said, blinking until the lasers warmed behind his eyes and made them glow creepily with the unreleased heat. Superboy had made that look pretty cool, and it had taken him a few holes in the wall to figure out how.
"It'll be hilarious to watch you try, though."
This time Sephiroth narrowed his eyes and scrutinized his intended victim. Pyro was overconfident normally, but it was beginning to sound like he knew something Sephiroth didn't.
Then again, he had no intention of backing down. "Really," he said, taking a step away from the edge of the roof. His other hand slowly closed around Masamune's hilt. "I don't think you'll find it funny when you're dying!"
He drew his sword and lashed out in one movement, aiming to cut off the boy's head.
There was a loud, disturbing sort of twang and-
"Now that," Pyro made a cheeky face, eyeballing the bent sword with extreme satisfaction, "that's just rude. It tickled."
He grabbed the blade, yanking with his newly acquired obscene strength. He was going to use Sephiroth's grip on his weapon to pull him closer, just so he could sock him straight in the face.
Sephiroth just stared, too shocked to think. It wasn't even possible.
...But hadn't Two metioned something about invulnerability?
Before he could so much as think about a new strategy, his feet left the ground and he was flying toward's Pyro's fist. The force of the blow knocked him back; he lost his grip on his sword and hit the ground on his side. A lightning wave of pain rocked him for a moment, then quickly faded to a dull throb. He lurched to his feet and tried not to move his left arm--he was sure it was broken. At least if he left it at his side it wouldn't look that way.
Oh man, that expression was awesome. This whole thing was awesome.
Pyro grinned, the sort of face he only made when he could smell burning flesh. It wasn't nearly as good as pyrokinesis, but it certainly was fun.
He laughed, walking forward again.
"Aw, and I thought you were gonna kill me, Sephiroth. I do hope you have some better weapons on you..."
The first 'weapon' that came to mind was a tactical retreat. There was too much he couldn't do here, without Jenova's help, and without his sword, against someone who couldn't be damaged, he was at a very, very severe disadvantage.
He glanced both ways, at either side of the roof, but looked straight at Pyro and spoke: "You're making a mistake. This is not normal for you; it will pass. And when it does, you will have no way to stop me from retaliating."
His eyebrows inched upwards and he grinned. "You really don't know that, do you?"
Pyro'd never been particularly keen on self-preservation, especially not when drunk off of power, but that hardly stopped him. Besides, he'd survived juuuuust fine up until then without Superboy's powers.
"And you didn't kill me before, did you? You're all talk."
Speaking of which, he wondered what would happen if he laser'd one of Sephiroth's legs off... So he kindly glanced down at the man's left thigh, narrowed his eyes and-
Bzzrt!
Sephiroth gritted his teeth---all talk, indeed---and was about to snap back when Pyro looked at his thigh. His self-preservation instinct told him to move as quickly as he could, so he shoved off the rooftop and launched himself to the side.
He wasn't quite fast enough. Searing, incomparable pain shot through his leg; he landed on his good side and writhed, sucking in air through clenched teeth. After a moment he moved his leg to make sure it was still there--it was--but he didn't look. He didn't want to know how deep that cut went.
Instead he looked at the edge of the roof. He had to stay mobile, had to run.
Pyro sighed, clearly put off by the fact that Sephiroth had managed to avoid his little experiment. That was unfortunate.
He scrutinized the man's expression, before following his stare to the edge of the roof. He pointed towards it smugly. "Flying. That was another one of my upgrades. Haven't figured it out yet, but if you really want to test to see if I can't manage? Be my guest."
Ooh, this was fun. Like beating the snot out of a human.
Trying to put any pressure on his left leg made him want to scream, and he bit down on his lip hard enough to draw blood to keep it down. He leaned heavily on his good leg and stared at Pyro for a second while he tried to quell the panic in his mind and his racing heart, but it didn't work.
That left the edge.
Clutching his broken arm, he shoved off the rooftop again, but this time he didn't stop---the close rock surface fell away in a instant, replaced by a blur of green as he flew downwards as quickly as he could, heading straight for the ground.
Pyro glanced over the edge, and rolled his eyes, before climbing onto the very edge and pushing off.
Alright. Superboy said he had to 'will it.' He definitely wanted to. A lot. Oh, and considering the speed he could be capable of? Yea--
Pyro rocketed downwards with a jarring suddenness, shifting slightly so he could smack straight into Sephiroth on the way. He'd smash them both into the ground at a speed that probably wasn't even safe for jet planes, and he'd survive juuust fine.
Sephiroth wasn't looking back when it happened; he was looking at the ground, eyes wide, trying to think of some way to escape. He could head for the forest, perhaps--
And then he felt it. It was nothing more than the presence of someone behind him, but it was the only sensation that registered before the sense of impending death took over everything else. Noise went silent; the wind was no longer cold; light and shade were irrelevant.
He heard the sick crunch as his bones broke, all across his back, his shoulder blades; he felt something like a blade cut him from the inside and was instantly aware of a lack of breath; blood streamed from his nose. He knew he couldn't stand, but he wouldn't let himself die, either. He forced himself to ignore it, ignore everything, for just one more minute, and flew straight through the first window he saw.
loluronfire) and Sephiroth (
thefuturemaker)
What: Pyro beats the snot out of Sephiroth before he moves away~ because he can!
When: After this.
Where: On the roof!
Rating: R? It's v. violent.
After finding his room destroyed, Sephiroth had gone to the next best place: the war room. He wasn't planning to stay there, but it was quiet, and it had a map of the town, making it the ideal place to decide where he was going to relocate to semi-permanently. He wasn't concerned about Pyro, really; nothing suggested to him that there was anything to be concerned about: he wasn't afraid of a little fire.
When he got to the roof he paused at the edge, surveying the town far below, trying to pick out the street where he'd killed seven residents. That would be a good place to start, perhaps; and he wouldn't need to take anything but his sword and his journal, both of which he had on him.
Pyro punched the roof-access door off its hinges after accidentally crushing the handle, huffing a sigh of annoyance. He hadn't figured out how to fly, and hell if he could figure out how to use the x-ray vision, but the most sporadic power he'd gained was the super strength. Really, it was just getting ridiculous.
Not that he was complaining about it, it was just ... new. He'd had years to perfect his pyrokinesis, and he was starting to miss that expertise.
He watched as the door skidded across the roof before slowing to a stop and grinned at it, turning to see if he had company; he very much did. Sephiroth.
"Nice day out," he said cheekily to get the man's attention, hands in his pockets. He was going to break a bone for every death threat he'd been given, and then some. "I can't believe you didn't like what we did with your room, though."
The sound of the door skidding across the roof alerted Sephiroth that someone had come to join him. That alone didn't particularly surprise him; what did was that it was Pyro who had destroyed the door. He had been certain that the boy's only skill was with fire, but it must have taken quite a bit of force to tear the door from its hinges, and--
Was the handle crushed? Sephiroth squinted at it. Yes, yes it was, he decided. Interesting.
He glared at Pyro for a moment, outwardly unperturbed.
"You can do it again," he said indifferently, turning back to the view of the town. "I'm finished with it."
"Why, so it can go unappreciated a second time?" Pyro wandered over, before deciding that the difference in their height was ridiculous and taking a few steps back. What was with all the freaking tall people around here, anyway? "Hardly seems fair."
He flexed his fingers, palm itching for the weight of his lighter. He'd given it to Superboy-Prime to hold onto for the week; he would definitely get more use out of it. Didn't mean Pyro didn't miss it, though.
"Planning to go hide out again?" he asked conversationally, tossing a sideways glance in the general direction that Sephiroth was looking, "didn't work out too well for you the past few times, did it?"
"In fact it did," said Sephiroth. "The only way to get any measure of peace here is to leave."
After a moment of contemplative silence, he put his thumb under the cross-guard of his sword and popped it out of the scabbard, just a little. "So," he said, in a casual, conversational tone of voice, "I believe I told you that I would kill you. And here we are. Are you ready to die?"
Pyro let out a bark of laughter. He wondered if it would make Sephiroth angry if he bent that sword into a pretzel. It was way too comically long, anyway.
"Not really," he said, blinking until the lasers warmed behind his eyes and made them glow creepily with the unreleased heat. Superboy had made that look pretty cool, and it had taken him a few holes in the wall to figure out how.
"It'll be hilarious to watch you try, though."
This time Sephiroth narrowed his eyes and scrutinized his intended victim. Pyro was overconfident normally, but it was beginning to sound like he knew something Sephiroth didn't.
Then again, he had no intention of backing down. "Really," he said, taking a step away from the edge of the roof. His other hand slowly closed around Masamune's hilt. "I don't think you'll find it funny when you're dying!"
He drew his sword and lashed out in one movement, aiming to cut off the boy's head.
There was a loud, disturbing sort of twang and-
"Now that," Pyro made a cheeky face, eyeballing the bent sword with extreme satisfaction, "that's just rude. It tickled."
He grabbed the blade, yanking with his newly acquired obscene strength. He was going to use Sephiroth's grip on his weapon to pull him closer, just so he could sock him straight in the face.
Sephiroth just stared, too shocked to think. It wasn't even possible.
...But hadn't Two metioned something about invulnerability?
Before he could so much as think about a new strategy, his feet left the ground and he was flying toward's Pyro's fist. The force of the blow knocked him back; he lost his grip on his sword and hit the ground on his side. A lightning wave of pain rocked him for a moment, then quickly faded to a dull throb. He lurched to his feet and tried not to move his left arm--he was sure it was broken. At least if he left it at his side it wouldn't look that way.
Oh man, that expression was awesome. This whole thing was awesome.
Pyro grinned, the sort of face he only made when he could smell burning flesh. It wasn't nearly as good as pyrokinesis, but it certainly was fun.
He laughed, walking forward again.
"Aw, and I thought you were gonna kill me, Sephiroth. I do hope you have some better weapons on you..."
The first 'weapon' that came to mind was a tactical retreat. There was too much he couldn't do here, without Jenova's help, and without his sword, against someone who couldn't be damaged, he was at a very, very severe disadvantage.
He glanced both ways, at either side of the roof, but looked straight at Pyro and spoke: "You're making a mistake. This is not normal for you; it will pass. And when it does, you will have no way to stop me from retaliating."
His eyebrows inched upwards and he grinned. "You really don't know that, do you?"
Pyro'd never been particularly keen on self-preservation, especially not when drunk off of power, but that hardly stopped him. Besides, he'd survived juuuuust fine up until then without Superboy's powers.
"And you didn't kill me before, did you? You're all talk."
Speaking of which, he wondered what would happen if he laser'd one of Sephiroth's legs off... So he kindly glanced down at the man's left thigh, narrowed his eyes and-
Bzzrt!
Sephiroth gritted his teeth---all talk, indeed---and was about to snap back when Pyro looked at his thigh. His self-preservation instinct told him to move as quickly as he could, so he shoved off the rooftop and launched himself to the side.
He wasn't quite fast enough. Searing, incomparable pain shot through his leg; he landed on his good side and writhed, sucking in air through clenched teeth. After a moment he moved his leg to make sure it was still there--it was--but he didn't look. He didn't want to know how deep that cut went.
Instead he looked at the edge of the roof. He had to stay mobile, had to run.
Pyro sighed, clearly put off by the fact that Sephiroth had managed to avoid his little experiment. That was unfortunate.
He scrutinized the man's expression, before following his stare to the edge of the roof. He pointed towards it smugly. "Flying. That was another one of my upgrades. Haven't figured it out yet, but if you really want to test to see if I can't manage? Be my guest."
Ooh, this was fun. Like beating the snot out of a human.
Trying to put any pressure on his left leg made him want to scream, and he bit down on his lip hard enough to draw blood to keep it down. He leaned heavily on his good leg and stared at Pyro for a second while he tried to quell the panic in his mind and his racing heart, but it didn't work.
That left the edge.
Clutching his broken arm, he shoved off the rooftop again, but this time he didn't stop---the close rock surface fell away in a instant, replaced by a blur of green as he flew downwards as quickly as he could, heading straight for the ground.
Pyro glanced over the edge, and rolled his eyes, before climbing onto the very edge and pushing off.
Alright. Superboy said he had to 'will it.' He definitely wanted to. A lot. Oh, and considering the speed he could be capable of? Yea--
Pyro rocketed downwards with a jarring suddenness, shifting slightly so he could smack straight into Sephiroth on the way. He'd smash them both into the ground at a speed that probably wasn't even safe for jet planes, and he'd survive juuust fine.
Sephiroth wasn't looking back when it happened; he was looking at the ground, eyes wide, trying to think of some way to escape. He could head for the forest, perhaps--
And then he felt it. It was nothing more than the presence of someone behind him, but it was the only sensation that registered before the sense of impending death took over everything else. Noise went silent; the wind was no longer cold; light and shade were irrelevant.
He heard the sick crunch as his bones broke, all across his back, his shoulder blades; he felt something like a blade cut him from the inside and was instantly aware of a lack of breath; blood streamed from his nose. He knew he couldn't stand, but he wouldn't let himself die, either. He forced himself to ignore it, ignore everything, for just one more minute, and flew straight through the first window he saw.