(Untitled)

[eco_terrorista]

Who: Elfé & Sephiroth
When: Early morning, shortly after Sephiroth goes out.
Location: Sephiroth's Shack Midgar Ruins
Rating: PG-13 (for 'violence', though for these two it might as well be 'play'.)
Summary: Elfé goes scavanging in empty houses for supplies, and picks the wrong one.

Comments

[sephiroth_san]

The bolt of blue lightning struck Sephiroth back a pace as it connected, but once his own posture was recovered and he took a breath again he was fine, he shook a long silver bang out of his eyes and 'hmphed' at Elfe. This materia being used to break up the constant abuse he could give to her was starting to turn this from a game into something entirely more deadly. Each time she would interrupt him with magic he would renew his attack with renewed vigor, and the cycle was starting to drag on.

Preparing for the next advance against his opponent; this girl who had provided him up until now a break from the continuous drone of days, was starting to anger Sephiroth. It pounded in his temples as some wild animal would to get out of it's cage. Sephiroth felt a small twinge of pain himself from an injury where she had managed to slip her katana past his shoulder armor into the back of his shoulder a little earlier, but already he knew it was irrelevant. She would get out of this alot worse then he would. On top of this anger, she again called him General and that seemed to unlock the cage.

Sephiroth's next chain of attacks were vastly more powerful than Elfe had faced thus far as the signature Octoslash carved through any defenses she had, and ended up propelling her hurtling back down towards the concrete floor. He landed flawlessly standing over her too close for comfort.

"No more playtime..." His voice was deadly serious now, any move Elfe made now she would be aware that it wasn't about him challenging her any longer, it was about him winning this fight.

[eco_terrorista]

She saw the rage in his eyes, but before she had time to finish a shielding spell he had already launched his assault.

One. She hadn't seen it, only felt the cruel bite of the Massamune, the crushing force of his attack as he swept by her.

Two. Her barrier wasn't going to hold, and she struggled to cast another--

Three, four. The damage was causing her nervous system to temporarily short-circuit, synapses unable to keep up with the trauma from the rapid succession of attacks. She couldn't...

Five, six, seven. Her instincts screamed at her to react, adrenaline and mako surging through her veins in a last, desperate attempt to preserve the life that was quickly slipping away.

Eight. She saw fire and smoke, she saw a laboratory.

......"The experiment is a failure. Dispose of the samples."

"Stop... I'm... not dead. Pain... it hurts..."

A child's voice. A girl's. Felicia's. She crashed to the ground, and her world went white.

But she wasn't Felicia, and she wasn't dead. The quiet glow of a last-minute Cure and Shield lingered around her frame, before dissolving into the chilling wind as her vision returned. Elfé glared at the man hovering over her, a raw and carnal hatred seething behind her stormy hues. She refused to lose to this man. (She wasn't a fool as to think she had any chance of winning, but all the same, she would not concede to him.)

It had taken a substantial amount of magic to fend and recover from Sephiroth's last attack, but having experienced it once, she was not going to let him try it again. Her speed was beginning to dwindle from the injuries, but casting repeatedly on herself would not only be highly inefficient, but possibly lethal, as he was no longer willing to allow her such a luxury.

One last time... She promised herself, and took a materia into her hand, directing its magic around the crystallized sphere. Large icicles crackled about its surface, cutting deep into her hand where she held it. She hurled the materia at him, sending flecks of her own blood into his line of vision, and pointed again, shattering the frozen projectile with a final Bolt and releasing a sharp volley of ice.

Elfé then kicked back and up on her feet, darting for where her katana had fallen while ramming her time materia into the deep cut on her palm. It pulsed violently, threatening to slip out, but she gripped the hilt of her sword tightly as to staunch the wound, until her body stopped protesting and received Zirconiade's substitute.

"No more playtime," she replied coldly in agreement, and lunged towards him, golden lines of haste faintly tracing under her skin.

At this rate, she probably only had another half-hour to live, but she would not give him an easy thirty minutes.

[sephiroth_san]

Sephiroth had angled the masamune to deflect the hurled materia as it was thrown at him in what appeared to be a desperation tactic. What he wasn't expecting was for her to shatter the orb just short of it connecting with his blade. The sharp fragments of ice shattered with such precise timing that Sephiroth had to cover his face quickly with an arm block; should any of these sharp projectiles have caught him in the eyes it might have been be a tide-turner.

However the slices caught his shielding arm, ripped through leather with tiny score-lines and from the rush of heat to that area it was concluded that they had managed to at least scratch skin underneath. A couple more of these scratches were felt on legs, their throbbing was fast becoming an irritation when combined with hot leather. Just scratched He reminded himself as this spar turned more deadly by the minute, the sweat and blood on both sides only continued to contribute to the violence between them.

Once stood back out of the block for the ice shards, Sephiroth allowed Elfe a moment to equip something (or at least thats what it looked like) and then met Elfe's lunge with a full on charge. This was unexpected as it had appeared he was simply waiting for her to lunge at him, which in turn left the impression that 'toying with' would continue until he had to inflict a more battle-deciding blow.

Surprisingly, or perhaps not so, just at the last moment before the range being too small Sephiroth shifted to the side, drawing the edge of Masamune across the side of Elfe's waist and allowed the strength from the charge to guide it.

[eco_terrorista]

She jumped, slamming her blade onto his and using the force of her arms to push herself upwards into a clean flip-tuck over his head. Her landing was shaky--he'd nearly shattered one of her kneecaps with a brutal kick earlier--and she was parried off another blow as she regained her bearings, using the motion of his slash to tilt her in the right direction.

Elfé miscalculated the trajectory of his follow-through, however, and the curved tip of the Masamune snaked around her to sink into the back of her right shoulder. The pain jolted her forwards, and she put her entire weight and speed into a headlong ram, forcing him back and dislodging his weapon from her flesh.

She kept close to him, exploiting the longer range of his sword while utilizing the shorter range of her own. She was running out of magic, however, and the strength in her right arm steadily flowed out in congruence with the blood that dribbled down her back. It didn't matter to her--all she needed to think about was the next step, the next swing.

A particularly heavy hit brought her down on one knee, and she saw one final opening. The girl bided her time, waited for the sweep that would have surely taken her head off...

And then she tossed her sword into her left hand, bringing up her other to catch the edge of his blade. Her hand would've been cleaved in two if it weren't for the materia that stopped the metal a few centimeters in, and within that same second she clamped down hard with the remaining strength she had in her right side, swinging with equal effort with her left.

Her katana dragged from above his hip towards his sternum, slicing across his ribs on its desperate path to his neck. But she knew it would fall short, and that it was all over for her.

Elfé's blocking hand slipped and fell limply to her side, her arm now useless from the excess strain. She never let her eyes leave his, however, and continued to glare at him defiantly despite impending death.

[sephiroth_san]

Many times Masamune had tasted blood in this fight, many times more than the blade of Elfe's katana and that was a sure sign of how well this was going. Despite small scratches being irritated by sweat getting in them and a slice that was going to make flight a little painful later (and a few strands of hair that'd been clipped at the ends by near misses) Sephiroth had only a handful of cuts and bruises when compared to his opponent. This had been a very fulfilling spar and had given him a chance to recalibrate his combat (as it were) after the escape from the crystal. Still pretty flawless, mind still as sharp as the blade he was wielding. It was a shame that this now had to come to an end he should let her live really so that this could be repeated some other day. Shame he thought as the fatal strike was delivered.

"Wh-" Grunted out as she caught the Masamune in her hand and the fortified materia would not be sliced through. The word did not have chance to finish before her counter-attack was connected, drawing a line of red from the top of the harness under his coat and across ribs at an angle which then became less deep at the solar plexus region and scratched away by the time it reached much higher. She'd buckled with that last attack and it had hurt more than anything else she'd managed so far. As blood started to fill the gash it was as if Sephiroth himself was now seeing red, the pupils of his eyes tiny slits glaring down at this crippled creature below him.

Insulted the anger boiled over a second later and as Elfe sat back on her knees; having fell to both of them after losing her blocking arm's usefulness, Sephiroth swung again in an upward motion. The tip of the blade clipped the left side of Elfe's collar on it's way up and before she could react any further the blade was turned. Joining both hands on the hilt of Masamune, Sephiroth swung downward putting a great deal of strength into it now. It struck from the bottom left side of her neck all the way forward and cleaving her collar to the bone, Sephiroth then stepped back to oversee the way her body would fall backwards - incapable of right arm movement and probably pretty limited in the left department now too. Sephiroth stepped forward and once her weapon was toe-shoved out of further harms way he spent a moment to assess the damage that gash had caused. Although it bled alot which was sticky against his skin it appeared to be superficial, his ribcage having done it's job in protecting organs. Silver hair all windswept and fell forwards framed the motion as he checked the wound out with his free hand. His Masamune held back in his left, while he looked over the faintly glowing orbs in her armlets that couldn't be cast any longer.

A smirk stretched across his features, at a thought that this wasn't over yet, not by a long shot. Masamune was dismissed into the nothingness from which it came and Sephiroth approached Elfe again. He stopped and crouched over her to rip a green orb out of her right armlet, Cure worked wonders to start the Jenova-cell enhanced regeneration of his own cells. The green orb glowed brightly as it was used, his leather clad hand tight around it he noticed something else which had fallen from her. A phone. Something evil glistened in his gaze as he stood back up with the phone and also the Cure materia. He looked down over her almost thoughtfully for a moment and then placed a foot firmly on the middle of Elfe's chest as he dialled the last number in the recent calls list...

[eco_terrorista]

"Agh--!!"

The pain seared down her neck, past and through her collarbone. Elfé promptly dropped her weapon, her hand weakly moving to cradle the injury, and she rocked forwards slightly before vertigo and gravity took her backwards, to the ground.

There wasn't anything for her to say, at least not to the likes of him, and so she simply watched his movements, breathing raggedly and waiting for the end to come.

However, Sephiroth clearly had another agenda.

[The rest is the phonecall.]