[Day 2 | Late Afternoon | Retying Strings]

[tenshinosairin]

Who: Sephiroth and Human sheathe Cloud. Others are welcome, but they might end up rather ignored by the heart-wrenchingly beautiful reunion.
Where: Somewhere in the far reaches of space around Central.
What: Searching for the favoured puppet.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Humans being used as sheathes again. Fighting, possibly. Nastiness.

Comments

[secondhand_sky]

There'd been a lot of rooftop jumping in order to pick a suitable battlesite before the Sephiroth presence overtook him. As much as Strife looked forward to renewing these particular hostilities, he was also not going to involve bystanders if there was another option.

On the other hand, he hadn't opted to meet his nemesis out in the wastes. Keeping humans out of the way was important, but not so much as staying inside the city for cover. He didn't care that much about collateral damage. Not with anticipation coiling in his gut and every nerve set to humming. It was almost time. Sephiroth was close.

Sephiroth was there, and speaking, and if there was any oddity about his aura that should have tipped off Strife to something amiss, he was too busy containing himself to notice it. His fists clenched convulsively, itching for the Buster replica, every muscle taut and ready

[tenshinosairin]

The low chuckle that sounded in response was the type of thing the most harrowing of nightmares are crafted, all subtle danger and threat. "I might have known you'd be impatient, Cloud," he all but crooned, the Masamune in his hand lazily shifting as though of it's own will, fractional movements that seemed to slice the air itself.

Emerald eyes shifted over Strife's form, lazily, silver brows raising minutely at the addition of claw and cloak. Unexpected, certainly. Strife always managed to entertain, didn't he? His lips quirked in a way that could have been appreciative, were it not quite clear he was doing so instead of howling with laughter.

There was work to be done, reinstate the puppet or strike him down. But that could wait for a little while, now that Sephiroth had found his prey.

"Well?" He all but teased, tilting his head, "What are you waiting for, Cloud? Isn't this what you wanted?"

And he opened his arms to his puppet, Masamune at his side.

[secondhand_sky]

Unusual. Sephiroth was as unneccessarily speechy as always, but hadn't once mentioned the word 'darkness.' Perhaps he'd finally gotten tired of repeating the same dialogue.

....

....

....naah.

A long time ago, Strife would have been enraged or grimly implacable in the face of his nemesis' mockery. Now, it was only a formality. What he truly felt when facing Sephiroth was alive.

The wing snapped out to full extension and Strife was airborn, leaping predictably with the Buster replica to meet Sephiroth's invitation with a downward slash. The Heartless-in-General-form had not yet revealed his own wing, the answering bit of honesty that always marked the beginning of their duels, so Strife could still consider this the warm up.

(Sorry about wait on this one)

[tenshinosairin]

Suffice to say, Sephiroth - in all his godliness - hadn't expected to see the wing appear. Had he been a lesser man he may have even called it weird, but he was the Great Sephiroth, and he met Strife's far more easily anticipated first attack with a sardonic quirk of his lips and an easy parry, a diagonal swing of the Masamune in a clean stroke upwards.

"Is this some effort to recapture all those lost fragments of your life, Cloud?" He asked, with all his usual melodious venom, his eyes flicking from claw to cape to wing as he lazily sliced with the Masamune, "Surely you're not so naive as that, still?"

A silken chuckle and he made to lock blades with Strife, exerting just enough strength to keep him in place, "Through Mother, you can become whole again, Cloud," he whispered to him over the ring of steel, leaping back with another flourish of the sword, "Through me."