Gun AU 6

[warmskies]

The simulation room has always been cold, and massive. At least, before any simulations spark to life, bringing in any temporary reality one could dream of. At least, that is what Sephiroth has heard it does in theory. For himself, personally, all he has ever done is use it to go over past missions, to see where he has made mistakes. Where he could do better. It has never been something for recreation.

But other people use it as a space where any kind of practice can take place, so that nothing important to ShinRa is damaged. Sephiroth has never had reason to go all out himself, but even a passionate Third Class can cause some damage if they're not careful and have no supervision.

That is why the three of them are here now - him, Lazard, and this mysterious individual called Restrictor.

Lazard isn't happy about this. Sephiroth supposes that other people might have difficulty telling; he is a man who handles himself professionally. Yet as his fingers tap along the keys to set up all the proper requirements for the simulation, Sephiroth can hear that they move just a little more sharply than they would any other day. "I commend you for your willingness to prove you and your subordinate's capabilities, but a simple record of the missions you have completed would be enough."

"Such things are classified, and impossible to give to someone unqualified outside of our department," the Restrictor says. What does he get out of this, Sephiroth wonders. What does he get out of trying to rile up Lazard, who he should be working with? "Hopefully this will satisfy you."

Does this really have anything to do with their satisfaction, however? It doesn't feel like it should. Not when he treats Lazard with such contempt.

Normally, Sephiroth would let the matter rest. It wouldn't be the first time that other people have acted in strange ways, ways that make no sense whatsoever to him no matter how many times he sees it play out. Whatever plans they had, whatever preconceptions they possessed, he would blow it all away with a swing of Masamune, complete a mission, and bring more recognition to the SOLDIER program that was so important to Lazard. That he now knows was Lazard's lifeline, his one way to protect himself in the vicious political bickering which seems to exist in ShinRa.

But right now... He doesn't know if anything they could do would be enough. If Restrictor would care for anything at all.

"I hope that you and your partner will be somewhat more forthcoming in this joint mission-"

The Restrictor raises his hand, dark and metal and unknowable as the rest of him. "You are mistaken, Director Deusericus."

"Pardon?"

"A partner would imply that creature waiting for you in the training room is an equal to me. That is a mistake. She is simply... one more tool to be used, for the benefit of ShinRa."

And things feel a little more clear, suddenly. If not for what the Restrictor is doing with needling Lazard... Then his views on many other things, besides. Sephiroth draws his gaze back down to the center of the simulation room, where the figure in crimson and burning bright blue stands there with a scowl upon her face.

Perhaps more than anything else, he should be glad that Rosso hasn't yet recognized him - or, at least, shown any signs of it. For that, he has Angeal to thank. Truly his disguise that had given him a bigger blessing than he ever could have imagined. His more defined jaws, the dark and fake facial 'hair' he'd been given... With none of that in place, with his hair hanging loose around his face.... Sephiroth must look a completely different person. Only his eyes would be the same...

Eyes that stay stuck on Rosso, no longer carrying that sharp confidence and bloodthirst which had propelled her towards him again and again, whether with bursts of gunfire or swings of her blade. Instead... She seems almost subdued, boiling with emotions that are bottled beneath the surface.

"There," Lazard says, and Sephiroth looks back to him. The screens are lit up, one panel nothing but scrolling code and text as it processes everything inputted. "This is the most recent data from some of our more promising Second Class SOLDIERs. We can see exactly how she handles them, and work on deciding our plan of action in regards to the recent break in afterwards."

Inside the simulation room, the machines begin to whirr and buzz, faster and faster, gearing up to start processing the light into something more concrete... even if that is only an illusion. Usually for most of the lower class SOLDIERs, they would have a VR helmet to help process all of it - and it makes it easier on the system as well, from Sephiroth understands. Yet he's never had to use it for himself... and apparently, Rosso has no use of it either, still standing there in the middle as a barren desert forms itself around her and right underneath her feet.

From inside, Sephiroth knows that the observation control room must no longer be visible, its window hidden underneath the reflective technology that helps maintain the simulation. However, that is only one-way. They're still able to view Rosso where she is just fine, along with the various other bits of information filtered in from the room itself, such as the health of those in it... just in case someone training gets injured.

This is also something that Sephiroth has only heard about in theory, since he's certainly never had to use it for himself.

"I will input three of our Second Class SOLDIERs to go against Rosso-" Lazard starts to say, before he's interrupted.

"Put in a dozen copies of them." Lazard jerks his head up with a frown, staring directly over at the Restrictor. In contrast, the Restrictor isn't even looking at him at all.

Honestly, while his gaze is focused down into the simulation room... Sephiroth isn't sure that he's looking at Rosso, either.

He's not truly looked at her from the first minute they met them.

Lazard adjusts his glasses. "Even though they have not been fully promoted to First Class, our SOLDIERs in Second are still not forces to be underestimated. Even just a pair of them can prove to be an impressive foe against entire squadrons of Wutai warriors, and they have all gone on important missions which have brought great success to ShinRa. They are not opponents to be idly underestimated, Restrictor."

"Yet, in the end, no aspect of their training could compare to someone from our division, Director Deusericus. Rosso is a far better fighter than them in every way... which you will soon see." Just the slightest nudge of his head, to show those too bright eyes in the depths of his helmet. "So. A dozen."

No eye contact is broken between the two of them. Lazard stares right back, pale blue gaze hard as steel even in the face of someone so strange and unknown. All he does is move his fingers without looking, starting up the program.

The computer registers three virtual representations of the current top three Second Class SOLDIERs, drawing them to a false life there in the room.

It says something about how often Lazard has been in this room himself that he's able to start up the audio system in the training room without looking at it, instead still maintaining eye contact with the Restrictor. "Miss Rosso. I have pulled up three different copies of our top Second Class SOLDIERs. On the count of three, a horn will start, and they will begin combat with you. If something seems off or you feel any injury, I will stop the program promptly."

For the first time since she has arrived at SOLDIER headquarters, a portion of that self which Sephiroth faced off against emerges. Rosso chuckles, before her head rolls back and she belts out a laugh. "So you have such faith in your precious little tin SOLDIERs that they will be able to draw blood, do you?" she asks, that accent still as thick throughout her words as before.

"I have faith that certain departments will be quite unhappy with me if I do not give the proper and obligatory warnings before having someone go through our training room," Lazard replies dryly. "I will begin the countdown now, Miss Rosso."

Lazard has barely finished the countdown, the word go only just out of his mouth, before Rosso is rushing forward, violently swinging with the same force that Sephiroth saw for himself first hand. Some credit must be given to the data of the Seconds who are involved, however. Sephiroth has only trained one of them... and only because it was something suggested to him as another thing to try.

To this day, Sephiroth doesn't actually know how successful he was as a teacher. It never felt like something that was fit for a person such as himself... A person who never truly felt like a person, who never knew what it was like to start from such a weak state of being while still being able to wield a sword. Yet it seems that, even as nothing about him was suitable to be passed on, that particular Second seems to have shown a good improvement in her combat data. Even as Rosso starts her aggressive tactics, the data responds well enough - no doubt as a consequence of Sephiroth's own shows of strength, and how to deal with that.

The other two... He supposes that they're doing well enough. He can see why Lazard said that they were suitable training partners, and why he chose these three in particular. One is clearly a more magic-oriented fighter, aiming to shoot out shocks of electricity towards Rosso in order to paralyze her - not that it seems to really affect her like it would for most others.

Then, the third fighter is more dedicated to up front combat, working in tandem with the first to try and keep her off balance and off guard. It's actually fairly smooth; have the two of them in particular worked on missions before?

It doesn't really matter, in the end. The three Seconds all have decent team work together, all are capable of taking out a small fortress on their own if they had the proper guidance... and yet, eventually, sooner than later, they all begin to fall. A vicious slice that breaks through the standard ShinRa sword, a gun shot right at point blank range during a clash of blades, and a whirlwind of attacks that are hard for even a talented Second to keep up with. They all hit the ground, fading away into scattering pixels.

Sephiroth wonders if he should give the one who used to be his student some pointers. It never worked out in the end - his fault more than anything - but perhaps he could still do that much.

The Restrictor stirs from where he'd been watching all of this in silence. "As I said - you should have included a dozen of those clones. Even better would be those of First Class. Only this much is something that is easily quashed."

A few more taps of Lazard's fingers and the simulated desert begins to fade away. "And I have said that sort of thing is wholly unnecessary. I only needed to grasp a solid foundation of her abilities, and the data from our Second Class SOLDIERs is more than enough for that. I agree that she has -"

He doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence.

Sephiroth grabs his shoulder, yanks him close to his chest and turns his body - and Lazard with it- to the side for a smaller target. Masamune, sheath and all, is already in his hand by the time Rosso's blade comes crashing against the observation room window... and Rosso there with it.

Her target isn't Lazard, however. Rather, it is the Restrictor, who stands impassively in the face of her bared teeth bloodlust. It's almost similar to the look that sparked in her gaze when she was going off against Sephiroth down there in the lower districts, but - not quite. It's different. More venomous, as she looks straight at the strange cloaked man.

There's not even a flinch on the Restrictor's part. All he does... is something, inside that mysterious cloak of his. Sephiroth thinks he might hear a click of some sort, even.

Whatever he does, the effect is immediate. Violent spasms suddenly wrack through Rosso's body, dislodging the foothold she'd gained against the window, and she goes falling, falling, even her weapon freefalling with her grip not steady enough to keep hold on it.

Well, if she can survive the kind of magic that Angeal shot at her with a simple Ice materia bought down in the slums... She should be fine.

That just leaves everything that isn't.

"I apologize for the interruption," the Restrictor says, as though nothing had happened at all. "While she has an utter mastery of combat, as you were able to see just now... Rosso the Crimson is still something which needs to be leashed."

Something to be leashed...

The words themselves leave a foul taste in Sephiroth's mouth, even though he wasn't the one to say them. It's as he's still reckoning with it that the Restrictor finally looks towards him. "And that is why, as her handler, I would want you to be her partner during this assignment, Sephiroth First Class."

It's the first time that he's said anything even vaguely approaching politeness when speaking to either of them. That still doesn't lessen the shock, and Lazard pulls away from Sephiroth's grip. "You want one of SOLDIER's very best to risk dealing with such an unstable and violent individual!?" He shakes his head, absolutely disgusted. "What on earth possessed you to think that such a person would be fit for a matter this delicate?"

"Could you truly say that the people involved in the attack on ShinRa are delicate with the force of magic that they displayed?"

"I can say that it is delicate considering that they were able to use espionage to sneak into a place such as ShinRa headquarters with little problem-"

"I will do it," Sephiroth says suddenly, cutting through the verbal battle both men have started. Both fall silent; apparently his voice holds that much weight... or at least the shock of it does. "If that is alright with you, Director."

It is very clearly not alright, considering the way that Lazard frowns, but he doesn't fight him on it. Perhaps he doesn't want to show any sort of fractures in SOLDIER in front of this suspicious and untrustworthy individual. Perhaps it would just be a tiring thing to do. Either way, after a steadying deep breath, Lazard straightens his shoulders. "Sephiroth, go check on Rosso's status in the training room. The Restrictor and I will have a discussion on just how exactly he plans to ensure the safety of other ShinRa employees and civilians that may get caught up in all of this."

In situations such as this... It's best to let Lazard do what he is good at, and that is administration and securing the safety of his SOLDIERs. Sephiroth does as he's told, stepping out from the observation room and going the long way down to the training area.

Rosso is still exactly where she fell... as far as Sephiroth can tell. Curled up on her side, she still shudders violently from what must be the continuing shocks of her suit... or the aftershocks as her body processes them all. It's hard for Sephiroth to not narrow his eyes at that knowledge. After all, during the simulated battle, she'd been able to shrug off even fairly strong lightning spells from the AI....

How strong is this thing that the Restrictor imposes upon her? And how often has it been used?

The shudders start to calm, and there's that burning red stare, right at him. Or... maybe it is a glare. The kind of glare he can recall being directed at him during their fight. "So... Come to mock me, for the chains wrapped tight around my throat?"

"No. The Director said to come retrieve you." He pauses, thinking on the proposal they'd been so suddenly given. "That man wanted to partner us together for the investigation into the infiltration of ShinRa."

Rosso finally pushes herself up from the ground. There's no more shaking in her hands as she sweeps her hair back away from her face, and the shimmering rage in her seems to have gone back to wherever it dwells inside. No doubt that she's had practice in having to do this many a time... "But of course," she says; at least one of them isn't surprised by this. "Even down in Deepground, it is well known just how powerful the mighty Sephiroth is. You know, those little troublemakers have gotten ShinRa quite worried if they are willing to let me out, even on a leash."

So he was right... She really doesn't recognize him, by some manner of luck and Angeal's ability. This should give him some advantage... If only he knew how to use it properly. For now, he sticks to the simple things. "Is Deepground... a literal place?"

Certainly, she talks about it as it is. Yet when they had clashed in the slums, she'd also made it sound like a group.

Chuckling, Rosso rises up onto her feet, the sway of the motion distinctly careless. "A place that is more than just a place... and yet that is all I can say for now." She taps one finger against her lips. "I shall simply tell you that ShinRa's secrets are deeply buried things, my fellow weapon. Now, shall we return to see just what they have decided is our use?"

Her fellow weapon...

It's true.

That's what they are.

By the time he and Rosso return, Lazard and the Restrictor are waiting for them outside of the control room.... and the air seems strangely freezing, although Sephiroth can't register any genuine temperature drop. Lazard nods to him when he spots him. "Very good, Sephiroth. We have been discussing the exact arrangements of your temporary partnership with Miss Rosso here. There has been discussion on where she is to stay when you are both off-duty, amongst other things... But it seems that Miss Rosso cannot be kept in the dorms or even a hotel for her use." Lazard's gaze flashes with annoyance. "And the sir here refuses to tell us just how we would get in contact with her for wherever she would stay if not there, which would be problematic if we were counting on a rapid response time due to another event such as the one which occurred a few days ago."

"I have told you such things were classified and beyond your clearance."

"While that may well be so, that does not take away from the fact that it will slow down a vital operation while we wait for a middle party to contact her for us-"

This is going to go on forever again... Really, Sephiroth wonders just what this Restrictor thought things were going to be like, just strolling into SOLDIER headquarters and making demands. Did he think that Lazard was a simple bureaucrat? A clout chaser? Sephiroth really isn't sure, considering reading minds wasn't on the list for Project S. However, considering the way that he's looking at Lazard and that silence radiating off of him with an ice cold sharpness to it...

"I am being partnered with Rosso the Crimson because I am the only one who is qualified enough to fight her properly and restrain her from anything which would jeopardize the mission, aren't I?" he says, feeling more and more like a mediator the longer that the Restrictor is in SOLDIER headquarters. "Then she may stay in my apartment."

It's a perfectly sensible solution; he's certain of that much. If Rosso needs to be more readily available, no delays or middle person being in the way, then it makes sense for one of them to be with her whenever possible if they can't contact her in the regularly accepted ways. Additionally, it will give him a better understanding of just what it means to be a Tsviet... and, just maybe, he will see if he can get an opportunity to help Gillian get that tissue sample she needs.

And clearly he's the only person who can beat her in a fight, so why not?

That's what he thought before saying it... so he has to wonder just why every other person is staring at him for the suggestion.

He can hear the faint intake of breath from the Restrictor, the sound off due to his helmet, but it's too late. At the exact same time, Lazard's gaze flashes towards him before he nods decisively. "That is an excellent idea, Sephiroth - so long as Miss Rosso does not object, of course."

Right... That is what he forgot, and Sephiroth turns his head to stare down at her. She seems the most surprised of all of them, eyebrows drawn up, before they settle again, and she gives a low velvety chuckle. He'd never understood that descriptor until now; it suits her. "Well, if a man is so bold, I suppose I cannot help but be intrigued, no?"

It takes... a shorter amount of time for the Restrictor to agree to the idea than Sephiroth thought. Perhaps he is thinking in the same way, of using Rosso as a spy against him at the same time that Sephiroth wants to get information from her himself.

All that leaves, in the end, is for Lazard to take some extra precautions, which involves going down into the equipment area - the same place where Sephiroth himself has to return the materia he uses for every mission, although no one ever takes Masamune from him. Never again. "I will equip you both with a set of radios transmitters," Lazard tells them as he goes through the various cabinets and pulls out files as much as the actual equipment. "That way, you will be able to contact ShinRa headquarters - specifically SOLDIER - whenever you encounter something or have something to report."

The whole process already seems to be boring Rosso... and it's about to bore her even more when Lazard turns to her and the Restrictor.

"Sephiroth is already familiar with the entire process, but since the two of you are guests to SOLDIER, I am going to have to instruct you in the proper way to fill out these acquisition forms. The entire process can be mostly handwaved since I am here in the position of the Director of SOLDIER, but that may not be true for the future. Thus, it is important that I show you how it is done now, while we still have this free time."

The Restrictor tries to protest. Or argue. None of them will ever know what he tried to do when he opened his mouth.

That is because Lazard coldly states that he is not having his SOLDIER be responsible for any breaches of contract, fines for damaged equipment, or visits from the Weapons Division.

Of course... No doubt that really is all true. If anyone knows about all the troublesome aspects of office life, and running a department, and how it's all interconnected in the wider whole of the corporation, then it would be Lazard. And yet... Sephiroth glances down with just his eyes towards what has been pulled out from all the equipment lockers and lockboxes.

If just a few were taken out... Then it would take a little while, at least, for anyone to notice. Especially if they had assumed that the esteemed Director Lazard and two important guests could surely not be to blame.

Sephiroth has never quite stolen anything before... but it's not as hard as one would think.

Covering up the crime and establishing a network for the group will be something that Lazard will have to do on his own time, and Sephiroth trusts him to accomplish that even if the two of them can't talk with one another. That means all he needs to focus on is finding a way to deliver the devices to the spot that they arranged.

Well, it also means that he has to make sure that the communication devices stay perfectly hidden from everyone else until then. That is made a little bit difficult with the fact that, once Lazard has gone over every single line of the forms, he has to actually fulfill the role of a... partner.

Truly, the last few days have been giving him no small amount of first times.

"Since you agreed to let her stay in your apartment, I would recommend that the two of you visit there and settle anything that is needed for this temporary housing situation," Lazard tells him, glancing at the watch on his wrist. "It will save time in the future if you both familiarize yourself with everything right now, rather than wait for when it is too late. However, Sephiroth, I will need you to return by five p.m., because I will have settled some key matters with that man and a meeting with Hollander as well."

He knew this would happen... Lazard isn't the kind of person that can stay in one place and recover from a rough couple of days which started off initially with him being kidnapped, kicked out of a multiple storied building, and hitting a dragon.

Unfortunately.

So of course Lazard already has a great deal of things planned for his day... and it's barely even started. Still, Sephiroth understands that this is necessary, so all he can do is nod his head. "I will be sure to return, Director."

It's then, and only then, can he and Rosso leave side by side. That seems to be enough to satisfy the Restrictor, at any rate. As the two of them settle down into one of the ShinRa cars that ferries Sephiroth back to his apartment normally, he glances over at Rosso. The entire time she's been around the Restrictor, she's been the quietest he's ever seen her... and it seems a strange thing, when he's already seen her at her most honest. Should he be glad for that? The Rosso he clashed against was the kind of person who would take out a civilian - one of the people she was to work with - simply because they had threatened to get in her way for a battle.

He knows that is the logical way of thinking about it. It should be a relief that she is not going to give him further trouble, as far as he can tell right now. So why is it that he feels unsettled, instead?

If this were only a month ago... Then he could have asked Lazard about this. It's what he always used to do, constantly, ever since he began to have a life that was not restricted to the insides of a lab. Since he began to have a life that allowed so many more things to be visible to him, even if he didn't understand how to reach out.

Of course... If things were like a month ago, then he would never have met Rosso at all.

It can't be helped; this is something that he's going to have to settle on his own. Sephiroth tries to recall how he's seen Lazard extend pleasantries to people in the office, at first, and yet none of that seems right. What about what he had seen in the slums, when he had gone shopping...?

No. No, that's the wrong place to look, isn't it? Rather... He knows exactly who he should be copying, in moments like these.

"I wasn't expecting any guests.... so there is not another bed that is available," he says, and tries to recall the state of his apartment. It's nothing he's really lingered on too much. Best not to do so. However, right now, it seems rather important. "I will make sure to fix that tonight."

Rosso chuckles at that, and those red eyes of hers slip back towards him instead of staring at the seat straight ahead of her. "Oh, to play at being human..." He doesn't like the way she says that. At the same time, it feels like it strikes too close to the truth for him to deny it. "Although I suppose one could always suggest, if there is only one bed, that it is shared."

Hm. He has to think on that. With how tall he is, and his broad shoulders, it's not as though he has a small bed... Lazard took one look at him and said he would get a ferocious growth spurt, so he made sure that Sephiroth had a rather sizeable one. He's never changed it, either, whether frame or mattress. With how little he actually stays in his apartment, it seems to have kept its form well enough after all this time. Still.... "That would not be efficient. We are not familiar with one another's sleeping patterns, and there is no reason to press on the matter when the apartment is temperature controlled." So no point in being against one another for warmth. Well, even that is only something he's heard of distantly in wilderness survival lessons...

What is it about his words that seems to keep making Rosso laugh? "No, not very efficient at all, is it?" she purrs. Why does it feel like he's being made fun of? And why does this remind him of Genesis? "Well, I am more than used to sleeping upright. What good am I as a weapon if I cannot maintain even that much?"

Weapon talk again... "I suppose it is standard SOLDIER training," he says, although, now that he thinks about it, he's not entirely sure if that is true or not. All he knows is that he was taught how to do it.... back in the labs.

Hm.

"If you are content with the sleeping arrangements, then... What do you want to eat?" His cupboards, pantry, and refrigerator are all completely barren, of course. That is going to be a problem...

Or not, perhaps, because Rosso waves her hand through the air once, apathetic. "Oh, to have the time to worry on such trifling things... Please, darling. Worry on other things which are more important, such as the mission we are to accomplish."

"Lazard will direct me on what needs to be done for the mission."

Another low laugh. "Indeed.... It is not our nature to do all the detail work, is it? A weapon is simply pointed in a direction, and crushes, stabs, slices through whatever needs to be." Her sigh sounds almost blissful. "One can only hope that those who have decided to wield us do not waste our time. Oh, to wield our own selves..."

To wield their own selves... Sephiroth turns that phrase over in his head. He never thought of "wielding" himself, only ever Masamune. But he wonders if she means it in a less literal way. Or if she does mean it in a literal way.

Or maybe... He wonders if she, like himself, doesn't even know what she wants.

Besides that, he has to admit there are some concerning words in that statement of hers. "With how you describe it, it sounds as though... you enjoy your duties," he points out.

Rosso smirks slyly at him, eyes hooded. "Of course. It is what I was made for. And yet, in the end, I am wasted upon those with short ideas, those who cannot even prove they deserve to wield me. Only one person truly deserves all the ability that I possess, and yet, we are trapped within the same sheath, locked away and robbed of all we could accomplish."

Someone who actually has her respect... and yet is also "locked away". "Then... I take it that it is not that Restrictor."

"Ha." It's a sound that should be one of mirth, and yet it's flat, there in Rosso's mouth. "Something like that... How could it possibly be something worthy of directing where I slice, and pierce? All it can do... is stand there, its finger on the trigger."

That is also all Lazard can do as well, weaker than even the Third Class SOLDIER recruits. While he does have some combat training, with basic knowledge of materia and how to shoot a gun.... In the end, he is still on the level of a civilian. He would still fall far too easily, to so many things which seem to take a human life so easily.

But if Lazard told him to do anything, Sephiroth thinks that there is little he wouldn't do for him.

Who is "worthy" enough to wield another person?

That is a question that he is going to have to think on for a long while, possibly. It is also one that will have to be shelved for another day, because the car stops sooner than later. Of course it does. He was never allowed to live in an apartment too far away from ShinRa.

He's not thinking particularly deeply when he gets out of the car, and starts to head immediately towards the entrance. Besides the addition of a new person, is this not like every other day that he's had to return to that place? And yet, after only a few steps... He realizes that the click of Rosso's own heels has stopped echoing his own, and he pauses, looking back over his shoulder.

She's stood perfectly in place, head tilted back, red hair spilling down her spine, and her eyes locked onto something high above.

The sky.

...Oh.

The driver is still waiting over at the car - no doubt the Restrictor or some other ShinRa higher up gave him instructions to watch how Rosso and him would do in the drive over. Seeing the way that Rosso stands there, he must be getting some strange ideas in his head... Certainly, he seems to be antsy with the way he shifts from one foot to the other there at the doors. Sephiroth decides to handle it before he gets the notion to actually approach Rosso; she hadn't hesitated to strike down someone working with her before. "You may report to the Restrictor that we have arrived at our location," he tells the man plainly. "Your role is done here."

Apparently, he doesn't need much more convincing than that. With only that much, he's right back in the car, and pulling out from the apartment complex. Really... Should he be worried about the kind of people that ShinRa is employing, if they have that kind of attitude?

Well, that's fine. He supposes it works out for him, if that's how it is. For now... He just returns to Rosso's side, and tilts his head back up as well.

It had been in the evening, when Lazard had first pulled him out from the labs. There'd been no time wasted. The second that he had agreed, Lazard was already calling up different complexes to see just where he could fit in. Even at that young age, he'd been more than aware of just how ShinRa worked, and he'd made sure to get a place that ShinRa - let alone Hojo - couldn't truly argue with being unsuitable.

There hadn't been any stars in the sky, that night. Too much light pollution. He would learn about that later.

But there had been clouds, thick and heavy, carrying rain that would go on elsewhere and make plants bloom like they couldn't in Midgar. There'd been that overwhelming hint of space, so deep a blue that it was hard for him to understand it when all he knew was the stifling grey of the labs.

And there'd been the moon.

So bright, and overwhelming, and shining even past all the neon. Shining a glorious silver that no one could deny, until the clouds had finished their trawl and hid it behind that heavy grey once more.

"The rooftop is easy to reach from the apartment," he says simply, not taking his gaze away from the unending blue stretched across their heads, untouchable by the towering buildings which Midgar is so proud of. No clouds, today.

Rosso gives him no answer, not immediately. She's still staring up towards that endless expanse. Boundless. Pure.

Eventually - "I suppose I should be impressed... at just how tall Midgar buildings can truly be."

Even when they go inside the apartment building at long last, are trapped within the elevator which will bring them all the way up to Sephiroth's suite, something about that moment... doesn't seem to leave them. Sephiroth isn't entirely sure he can explain it. All he knows is that it feels almost tangible, clinging to his and Rosso's shoulders all the way until they step into the apartment.

Not a single drop of surprise falls from Rosso's face as she takes a look at everything. The plain and undecorated walls, the simple couch which is too clean, all the light that filters in with no obstacles in its way from window to floor.

There are barracks which are filled with more personality and small items than this apartment, he's sure. He's seen them, once or twice, with pictures taped by mattresses and snacks covering messy sheets. There's no trace of that here. Rosso doesn't seem to mind as she goes over to the window and looks over Midgar. "So this is something similar to the view our prey had when they managed their escape," she muses. "I had thought that the lower districts were like mazes for rats, and yet I suppose I can almost imagine how they were able to slip away into some hole without being caught."

She's not wrong, there, exactly... Even walking alongside Gillian and the others, Sephiroth has to admit that they'd gone through quite a maze of a path to get back to the apartment that the group had claimed for their own no matter how temporarily. "They had clearly planned things out greatly in advance," Sephiroth confirms. "They shouldn't be underestimated."

"Oh, on that front, you have no need to worry." She turns back to face him with her hand cutting through the air. "Deepground had already been making moves towards tracking them before you and your Director managed to return." She chuckles, head lolling to her shoulder. "Why wait for someone when it was so certain that they would be dead? Although, I suppose with you on the case, it is little wonder that he managed to survive after all."

They'll go with that. Certainly Sephiroth doesn't correct her, instead going to inspect that couch. It's large, because it was chosen for him with his height in mind, and Lazard says he likely isn't quite done growing yet either... So it should be enough, in theory, for Rosso to rest on. That would be more than acceptable, wouldn't it?

He doesn't have any spare blankets. Gillian had given him and Lazard one to share.

"I will have to do some extra shopping to accommodate you," he says. That may mean going to visit the bank... Has he ever actually visited the bank at all in his life, besides when Lazard was there to help him open an account so that he could receive his first paycheck? Probably it's only the fame his name is attached to that keeps it open... along with the regularly incoming paychecks. "You said that meals were not going to be a concern, but..."

Before he can say much more than that, his doorbell rings. It's been a small while since he has heard his doorbell ring, and yet - Sephiroth doesn't hesitate. He knows this routine well, has had it engraved inside his ribcage for years and years now.

He opens the door. Standing there, an intern with ShinRa Science Department hanging from their neck via lanyard holds a couple of boxes in their arms.

Usually there's only one... but he thinks he knows who the second is for.

"Thank you," he murmurs, which is all that needs to be exchanged between the two of them. There's a nod, just to acknowledge that he spoke at all, but that's it. They're off, and he's left there to close the door in their wake.

The kitchen isn't too far off, with the mostly open floor plan being what it is, and so it doesn't take long before he's setting the boxes down on a plain black table. He doesn't need a knife, or scissors. Just a press of his fingernail slices right through the tape keeping it closed, and he peels the cover open to reveal all the simple plastic containers which rest inside. It is slightly over the regular amount, too - they must have assumed that he didn't eat anything while with Lazard. Surely if they thought he did, they would adjust their nutritional calculations, wouldn't they?

Or... maybe they wouldn't have. Maybe this would be like a call for him to go right back on track, eating only the meals that they give him. Doing the things they tell him to do.

There's no color to any of the meals that he can see through the plastic.

"So you do get the same things that we do," Rosso drawls. Sephiroth can hear her behind him, the way that the counter adjusts quietly and her clothes shift when she leans against it. "With how you were speaking, I was starting to wonder if food was one more way that you were treated so differently... And yet it appears that is not the case."

"...No." Sephiroth folds the box closed again. "It isn't." He looks up at her. "We still need to go shopping for the things that you will need."

Rosso quirks up an eyebrow. "We?"

"I was under the impression that it was rude to get things for someone without getting feedback from them." Not that he has much basis for that theory, since all he's ever learned about that has been from listening to other people. "And it would be invaluable for our mission if we became more familiar with the city."

A nice, solid, logical argument. It's why Rosso can only shrug, pushing herself away from the counter with her hip alone. "I did not imagine this was what they meant by having you become my partner, but I suppose there is some sense to your words. It is little wonder that they are so fond of an obedient tool such as you." She rolls her head back to laugh. "Not like me at all!"

Nothing like her at all... Forced to have something inside her that shocks her worse than any Thunder spell, paralyzing her completely.

No.... He supposes that much is true. For whatever reason, Hojo never saw fit to input that sort of thing into him at all. Just the blind obedience he came with... was enough.

Maybe he was too quick to dismiss the driver. While Sephiroth has the licenses to operate military vehicles (and how hard could it be to drive a regular car like the one Lazard has?), that doesn't necessarily mean he has any vehicle himself. So that means anything that they're going to be doing will have to be on foot.

That sounds perfectly acceptable to him, at first, especially once the two of them making it out of the gated and guarded community that his apartment complex is a part of. He's never really gone walking on his own so casually this way. Yes, he knows that he got to experience a small taste of that alongside Angeal and Genesis, especially all the moreso when the three of them went down into the slums to peer at what the different shops could give them in terms of strange devices that were apparently quite useful despite being only half the machine they used to be.

But this time is different. This time, he isn't merely a tag along, following after Angeal and Genesis like a lost puppy. This time... It feels more independent.

It is a nice feeling.

Up until the moment that he is reminded that he is famous.

It happens almost exactly when they are near to the bank - a location that he can still remember after all these years with how close it is to the ShinRa building. So close to ShinRa that most would glance at him with some level of surprise, and yet they would keep their distance. His existence is still... mostly... expected.

Yet the bank is right on the verge of where ShinRa and the rest of the world, the rest of Midgar, seem to meet... and it's there that all the staring becomes much more pronounced.

Even Rosso is aware of it - trailing behind him in a way that mimics being casual but is more drawn by her attention towards the rest of the city, and then eventually speeding up to match pace with him perfectly as she presses against his arm. Sephiroth is pretty sure he sees someone taking a picture from out of an alleyway. "Do you normally allow so much gawking? It is as though they have not seen your face plastered all over the walls here."

Yes. He knows his face is plastered all over the walls. Somehow, however, having Rosso point it out so flagrantly seems awkward. At least, that's the only feeling he can compare it to. "It is common, yes."

A lot more cameras seem to be in the periphery of his vision than usual... and he's used to a great deal of cameras on him whenever he's had cause to venture outside of SOLDIER headquarters. He thinks Rosso might be aware of the cameras, but not their purpose, because she says, "Extensions of ShinRa, then? To keep tabs on their precious general?"

"Most of them are not employed by ShinRa."

"Then why on earth would they care about watching you so much?" For all the derision in her voice, he can tell that she's still smiling that scarlet smile when she makes eye contact with one of the people trying to subtly take pictures. "It is surely not because they are fighters wanting to understand an opponent."

Once upon a time, he'd dared to ask Lazard a similar question. He hadn't understood just why ShinRa would suddenly want to keep him off the battlefield, why it would force him into various photo shoots, and have him do plainly scripted interviews where everything was so rigidly controlled. What was the point? Wasn't he meant to be a weapon?

He gives Rosso a similar answer to the one that Lazard had given him, all those years ago. "ShinRa wants to present a good impression upon people... and so they use me as a way to draw their attention, and believe in my strength."

"And what do they think that strength of yours is for?"

"ShinRa says it is to protect them."

Rosso laughs.

It's subsided by the point that they step into the bank - a large place with numerous benches and desks apparent even in the lobby, the teller line nearly shining with all the protective glass and fencing that has been put up to keep the clerks safe. Sephiroth is perfectly content with the idea of waiting in line, honestly - that is the proper way to do things, he remembers. Angeal, Genesis, and Gillian often had to wait in lines while they went out shopping. Yet he's barely taken more than three steps into the building before a frazzled looking young man with messy hair is jogging up to him. "Hello, sir - good morning. Please, step right this way."

Right this way meaning into a private office sort of space far past the teller lines, and away from most of the public. Well, Sephiroth supposes this does make things easier... and there's less staring.

After all, the woman he speaks with is well trained and professional, managing to keep any nerves strictly under wraps. That's good. It makes what he wants to do much easier, which he had hoped would be easy to start with - simply checking in on how much he actually has in his account, making sure his card is still active (against all odds, it seems to be), and then, after some careful thought... He pulls out as much as he can. Right to the limit.

"The bank is currently carrying that much gil, so we should be able to go through with you request," the banker says as she taps along in her computer, no doubt looking at all his information. It must not be a very exciting thing, in banking terms. Sephiroth... isn't entirely sure he's ever actually used it before today. "However, I hope you can understand, General Sephiroth... that we do have to inquire about the amount of gil that is leaving the premises. Of course we would never accuse someone as esteemed as you of illegal funds, but-"

"For paperwork reasons... I understand." It isn't as though it is an unexpected thing to ask, really. He may not be familiar with banking procedures, but, well... Just by experiencing life alongside Gillian, he has the beginnings of an idea on how much is normal to carry on one's person. And it's not this. "On orders from my higher ups, I am partnered with Rosso the Crimson, and I am seeking to make sure that her stay is comfortable here. We are going to be shopping for a few necessities. While I understand that a card can be relied on for a great deal of things, I have been told that it is important to have solid gil on hand... just in case of emergencies." He tilts his head to the side. "I have heard this is especially true for valuable purchases such as weapons and materia. I had assumed there would be other items as well that would require such measures, so I thought it best to take care of things with one visit instead of multiple."

Probably, he didn't have to go into such depth. It's just that he doesn't know any other way to answer a question like that. At least, it seems to be enough to satisfy the banker, and she nods. "I see, then I will put that down as various potential expenses. Thank you very much for your cooperation, General Sephiroth. Then, if you will follow me, I will show you and your companion Miss Rosso to one of our private rooms where we can hand off the gil to you."

Only after they've been lead there, and the banker having left them to their own devices, does Rosso finally speak up - no longer just watching the procedures in boredom with the occasional sharp smile whenever the banker looked at her for too long. "And just what is this place that you have brought me to?"

"A bank. It is a place which stores money for other people when they are paid for their work." He considers her, thinks about the callous way that the Restrictor had treated her - the shock device to keep her under control, the nutritional and bland meals sent to his apartment. "...I assume that you never have been." Because why pay, in her words, a weapon that exists only to be used?

She must surely be thinking that as well, with the way she crosses her arms and begins to pace idly around the room in a way that hints at impatience. Restlessness. "No... Ha, could you imagine?" She giggles, turning her head away from him. "Money that would never be used!"

Money that would never be used... Sephiroth turns those words in his head over, and thinks of the very money that he's withdrawing right now. Money that he's never once thought about, besides Lazard occasionally praising him on getting a promotion - leaping straight from Third Class to First, succeeding in little challenges against the Security Force that slipped a little more budget into SOLDIER's pockets from proving their worth. What would he use money on? Clothes, when everything was strictly regulated on that front so that he was presented in just the right way for the public? Food, when it was sent to him regularly for each day, regulated and measured and never once paid for?

He thinks of Genesis, gleefully snagging a pair of aviator sunglasses, and then another, "just in case, Angeal, please, keep up". He thinks of Angeal, who'd gotten a rake for "obnoxiously cheap, no wonder, do real plants even exist here".

Gillian had gotten a little postcard, cheap, unremarkable, smiling nonetheless while she'd held it in her hands. For someone special, she'd told him.

Could he have still done anything with that money? Could he have made his apartment feel like anything less than a sterile box, a mimic of his life in the labs?

Sephiroth doesn't know the answer to those questions, honestly. Maybe he never will. All he knows is that the banker and a teller return back to the room after a little bit, patiently counting out the gil for him so that he can confirm that it is the amount he specified. They're even kind enough to let him borrow a briefcase, although it seems to belong to one of the tellers... who stutters a bit as she asks for an autograph.

It's as they're being lead to the back exit - apparently there are paparazzi hanging about the entrance already - Rosso leans against his arm to whisper at him once again. "And so all of this is merely a good impression to humans, is it?"

"ShinRa works very hard on it," Sephiroth whispers back, hefting up the briefcase a few times. It's far from the heaviest thing that he's ever carried, but even he can still feel that it's filled to the brim. "They can't control everyone with shock collars... so propping up their strength like this assists them." That much he also learned from Lazard... although not in such blunt terms.

But this comparison works better for Rosso, he thinks, because a contemplative look crosses her eyes until they finally step out to the back alleys behind the bank, and Sephiroth politely bids farewell to both banker and teller. "And so you have earned all of that, then, from doing what ShinRa demands of you?" she asks, once it's the two of them, alone.

In a way, she isn't wrong. Yet Sephiroth still feels the need to make a correction. "I do what Lazard asks of me," he says.

Without Lazard, he wouldn't be anywhere. And with Rosso there right besides him... It's like looking into a mirror, and finding an endless pit.

He is glad that she is there besides him, however. At least, Sephiroth can't find the name of any other emotion that fits what he feels right now. Her voice snaps him out of any thoughts that flood into his skull. "So, now that we have all of that money... Just where do you plan on going first? And if you had gone to all the trouble of hiding instead of swiping away all those little pests at the entrance, how shall we leave?"

Well, if they're going to start anywhere, then Sephiroth would rather get the big things out of the way first... That feels like the right way to go about it. As for how they'll leave?





Obviously they'll climb and leap up the sides of buildings, making their way across rooftops and balconies.





It's honestly really rather easy.





Starting off with the largest matter means going to a furniture store, of course, and Sephiroth is pleased to realize that he can know that much because of how he's been able to listen in on others. He never thought it would come in handy for himself, of course... But sometimes, there had been nothing better to do than listen to others talk. Talk about, for example, how someone had gone to a nice furniture store for a move to their new apartment.

"You have a couch," Rosso says, pointing out the obvious while Sephiroth slowly walks through the aisles. "Is this what one does with so much money under their own name? Foolish, frivolous purchases like this?"

"Apparently that is the way of some people," Sephiroth says, voice drying a little on his tongue from what he's heard of certain ShinRa executives. "But this is for a purpose. I am replacing the couch that I have right now." Honestly, a part of him wants to replace everything in his apartment, now that he's striding through the store. He's never been in one like this before... He had no idea that furniture could be so varied like this.

If he stays in Midgar... Maybe that's something he can consider. A complete change to his apartment, from the floor to the ceiling.

But really... That's just a fantasy, in the end. Sephiroth knows this.

Because he thinks... he knows what the end of his choice will be.

"I don't have an extra room, or I would have gone for the bed frames instead... So, Rosso. What couch would you want to sleep on?"

It's a simple and upfront question, or so he thought. Of course it would be for her, when he was clearly not satisfied with that particular sleeping arrangement. And yet, when he finally looks back at here, she's staring at him as though he's speaking in a completely foreign language. "You are giving me the choice of it, then?" she asks at last, and her voice seems different, somehow.  A little more guarded, perhaps.

Sephiroth nods. "You are going to be the one that will sleep on it. It makes more sense for you to have a say in the choice than myself."

"I was under the impression that you were the one living in that place," Rosso points out, rising up one eyebrow.

Well, on one hand, he can't deny that is true. It would be residing in his apartment, his own personal home. It's just... the other hand holds a lot more weight. "No matter the kind of furniture that is in that place... I would have no complaints." Whether it was about as bad as camping out on battlefields and waiting to hear updates from Lazard, or the kind of rich gaudiness that he saw on display in the furniture store.... It's all the same to him. Just having a place to rest his head is enough, for now. "So if you were to choose it... That would give it more weight, I believe."

It wouldn't be anything like the couch that is in his apartment right now, chosen out of convenience, chosen because that was what it seemed like he should have had. Chosen as a placeholder for something that didn't come for years.

Even if he only has whatever Rosso chooses for a short while... That still feels as though it would mean more than any other piece of furniture in his house.

It would mean it would have been truly chosen for someone.

Would she understand that, if he tried to explain it to her? Sephiroth isn't entirely sure, considering the way that she's looking at him - gaze distant, detached, going through so many more thoughts than he could conceive of. He never was good at understanding other people... But in the end, she hardly argues with him on it. Instead, she turns on a heel, and strides through the aisle. There's not even a single passing glance wasted on any of the other pieces of furniture that are on display.

Instead, with complete and utter purpose, she walks straight towards an enormous and vividly crimson red couch.

"This one," she says, draping across its back not too unlike an enormous predator cat.

Sephiroth takes the piece of furniture in. It is far larger than the couch he has, mostly in terms of length - the kind of thing that wouldn't even fit in Lazard's office. However, he does have to admit that his apartment has the room... It isn't as though he is going to fill it with anything else, really. Along with the length being perfect for use as a bed, it also curves like an "L" at one end, meaning there's still space to sit if it's being used as a bed.

There's no reason to deny it, so, why not?

And there are other things to get as well, such as a blanket, and a proper pillow that isn't just a couch cushion. It's as they're getting a blanket in the same shop, however, that Rosso looks away from the various red ones on display and clicks her tongue. "Those little pests once more..."

She's not referring to paparazzi this time. When Sephiroth glances past his hair, he can see a small gaggle of young women around a corner, watching the two of them. While he may not be familiar with them as individuals... Sephiroth thinks he can guess who exactly they are, just based on experience and the sort of things that Lazard has told him. "They're just members of a fanclub dedicated to me... That's all." Nothing particularly interesting to note.

At least, so he thought. But then Rosso lets the blankets slip from her fingers, and takes a single elegant step back. Elegant in a way that doesn't match the crimson slash of a smile across her lips. "Really, now, if they are going to be such little pests, they should be expected to be squashed as such."

...Hm.

Right as she starts to shift in the group's direction, Sephiroth hand darts out, grabbing her firmly by her hand and tugging her closer. There's actually some resistance he can feel before she ends up right against him, her eyes narrowed into slits. It doesn't matter how much she glares at him, however. "We are not permitted to harm civilians," Sephiroth says plainly. At least, he knows that Lazard doesn't like the idea, and he doesn't want to do it either. "Stand down, Rosso the Crimson."

Over her head, he thinks he can see the small group get more agitated, but he's not really focused on listening to them. His attention is on Rosso, how her hand trembles underneath his own... in barely contained tension, fingers shifting so that she can dig her nails into his skin.

He's glad that she removed her gauntlets before they left for his apartment. She could have potentially drawn blood like this.. and it's still a threat even now.

"And just how will you handle a woman who doesn't want to listen to you, hm?" she asks, stepping all the closer to him until there's nearly no space left between their bodies. Her smile is still absolutely sharp, like the curve of a knife.

Honestly... A good question. Sephiroth has never had to deal with this kind of assignment before... and he's certainly never had to deal with someone who is as strong as Rosso. While he doesn't think she could get out of his grip normally, well... He doesn't know how far she'd go if she truly felt determined to do so. And that's not even taking into account how he'd have to ensure the safety of the various civilians that are present as well.

"I suppose I would start with throwing you out the window first," he says, because he ultimately fights far better in wide open spaces, even when not using Masamune.

Maybe Rosso had a different idea on how he would tackle her, because she stares, and then scoffs. The sharpness of her smile settles, back into that lazy and casual look. "Well, now I know that you would make for a rough partner," she says, in that tone where she's clearly making fun of him for something and he has no idea of what." But what matters is that her bloodlust seems to have abated for now... although not the interest in that gaggle of women, it seems. She glances back at them, as a matter of fact.

Even without looking himself, Sephiroth knows that they've all started whispering even more energetically to each other, one even jabbing their finger in an accusatory point as though she thinks they can't see her.

Sephiroth is frankly expecting that to annoy Rosso all the more, with how she was but seconds ago. Yet, instead of getting more aggravated and making another attempt, or even just demanding they go, or whatever other solution she might have, Rosso relaxes. "Very well," she says, an unexpected concession. "Then I will follow along with that silly little rule of yours." Her eyelashes slip lower, gaze hooded. "But I imagine to be sure that I do not do anything to dirty your shining reputation... You will want to keep a hold of me all throughout this ridiculous little trip of yours."

He can't tell if she's asking him to do that, or if she's mocking him... With how Rosso is, just in the short amount of time that he's known here, it seems as though it could very easily be both.

Still, well, that does solve the conundrum, doesn't it? So he nods his agreement, and Rosso wastes no time in stepping forward again with her hand tightly wound in his while her free one goes to decisively pick up the thick cord-knit blanket she'd been eyeing. Maybe because of the cumbersome nature of it, even when wrapped up in the way that it is, she leans close against his arm.

The fanclub seems to be reaching a critical mass of agitation from their aisle corner.

Yet that isn't really Sephiroth's problem. A blanket has been chosen, Rosso isn't going to spill blood on the floor of a furniture store, and all he needs to do is go up to the counter to have everything delivered to his apartment. As for the couch he has now... Well, he supposes that he'll figure it out in a little while. Just not immediately, because he has one more stop.

People are even more prone to staring inside of a grocery store, as it turns out, and Sephiroth pointedly lengthens his stride as he quickly goes to make his purchases. Chicken is simple and easy, he can recall the cuts that Angeal chose with crystal clarity. But the sauces that he'd mixed together... Those had been premade, hadn't they? But he hadn't been able to see the labels on them clearly, with the clutter of the little apartment kitchen, and Angeal's large hands... At least he can remember the shape and color well enough.

Just dallying for too long is enough to make Sephiroth tense up, recalling how eager to start a fight Rosso had been in a furniture alone. With that in mind, it's almost embarrassing that it takes him a little bit to finally and properly look at her, checking on her condition while he has a bottle of sauce in his hand.

And she's... not looking at him at all. Not looking at any of the people crowding around the ends of the aisles or trying to very very slowly pass them by. Instead, eyes wide, she keeps looking along the rows and rows of shelves, and...

Oh.

Was he like this... when Gillian and Angeal took him into the various stores as well?

It's hard for him to recall that properly. His mind had been filled with so much information, with a choice that had seemed more overwhelming than anything else in his life up until that point, that some parts of that outing had felt like a daydream of some sort. He'd just focused on Lazard's warmth next to him, Genesis's voice in his ears, Angeal's broad back in front of him, and Gillian patiently leading them all, through sunlight and buzzing fluorescence.

Sephiroth blinks. He takes in the wide aisles, allowing multiple people through them at once. The shelves, decorated and bulging with various boxes and bottles and small packets.

He'd seen it all, of course. Had navigated the aisles in a way that felt distantly like muscle memory. That meant he'd had to see it all, take it in with his eyes. And yet, now, right now, is only when it feels as though he's actually seeing it all.

But this is what other people... get to see all the time, isn't it?

People who aren't like them.

People who were allowed to grow up in a regular house instead of the confines of a lab, and could see other people regularly, and didn't have to be tested constantly to no end.

"People buy food here," he says suddenly, quietly, and that finally seems to draw Rosso's senses back into reality, draw them back to him. "Any food that they want, that tastes however they want. I have never done this myself.... but the two of us could get whatever we desired here."

A pause.

"Within reason... We will need to carry it back to the apartment ourselves."

It's just a simple fact, and yet Rosso smirks, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards. "Worried that I would cause a little uproar, were you?" she teases, as though that's not a fact that she might have and in fact came very close to it before. "But... Very well. It is like a trade, is it not? I can agree to those conditions."

Perhaps this might be a bad idea. No doubt that the Restrictor would think it to be - probably he would have not seen the point in bringing Rosso along in the first place.

Sephiroth lets go of her hand.

Of course, only after making sure that they both have a time limit so that they do not stay in there the entire day, although Sephiroth has to wonder if that possibly only worsened Rosso's tendencies to go through anything in the pursuit of what she wants... even if that's shoving past a small family's shopping cart.

In a way, he even almost regrets letting her off on her own, not because she actually causes any trouble, but because without the presence of someone else, people suddenly become a lot more bold in approaching him even as he's just trying to get a tin of cookies.

Rosso laughs at him for it, although he's not sure the average person should be laughing so easily after pushing aside so many fangirls and almost causing an incident. "And you were only to go in there for a few little things," she teases him, both of them hidden away in a small resting area of some sort. A plaza, Sephiroth can recognize, with an enormous fountain there in the middle, and various art installations which double as shade for people. Or, in their case, somewhere to hide. "I believe there is a saying on this, about mice and men...?"

"The best laid plans of mice and men... It is from a poem, I believe." And never before has Sephiroth identified so much with mice, letting out a sigh as he leans back slightly on the stone ledge they're sitting on. The small wall of brick, right underneath a pale teal fabric stretched out over their heads... Right. "I did not mean to take this long."

"We could take an hour more, and we would not be late, so what does it matter?" Rosso says dismissively. Well, he supposes with how little is truly asked of her, simply being on time and listening to orders is enough. He can understand that... and, more importantly, it works out for him here. "I am surprised that you took so long, you know... Especially when you strode in with such confidence and purpose."

Yes, he is definitely being made fun of now. "I wasn't confident at all," he murmurs, looking out across the plaza. It won't last for long, but it seems as though no one's eyes are on them for now. Good.

"Oh?" Rosso leans forward, elbow braced against one crossed knee, her knuckles pressed against her cheek. "Yet from eyes, it seemed as though you were so very eager to show off."

Show off... did it? She's still smiling, but he wonders if there's an edge to her words, something as sharp as her nails or her sword or her teeth. It's not murderous, not bloodlust, not yet, but... "I would never have gone in there... if you had not been here with me," he says simply, running his fingers against the rough surface of stone underneath his hand. "Before today... I had never gone in a place like that before in my life."

And why? There was never any good excuse, he thinks... just him accepting how things had always gone, him accepting the orders he was given, even when he was pulled out of the labs and was no longer so beholden to them.

What really stopped him from going out to stores like he had done today? Nothing but himself. Truly, nothing but himself.

It's not the answer Rosso was expecting, apparently, because she stares at him before her eyes narrow ever so slightly. "Now, is that not a curious thing."

She's not saying it outright... but why does he get the feeling that she's accusing him of something? It's hard to say if this means she's suspicious of him in a way that would jeopardize their plan with Gillian and the others, or if this is... something else. Still, Sephiroth merely lets his gaze sweep out back to the plaza that is in front of them. "Hojo has always ensured... that someone delivered food to me that would fit his standards of nutrition."

Food outside of that... Much like fairy tales, they were things that he had only heard about in a way that made them seem as though they were anything but real. Not until Lazard had passed him his first orange. Not until Angeal had insisted on giving him an extra serving.

What does Rosso think of all of this? It's hard to tell, just looking at her face, only that her gaze seems withdrawn in some way. Analyzing? He doesn't have long to analyze her right back. She looks away from him, taking in the sight before him - a bunch of stalls, various carts, all selling a variety of things. Whatever might appeal to those who are out enjoying a nice day, he supposes. "So, you have never gone to things such as those either, have you?" she asks, leaning back and pointing one finger towards a random stall. At least, he assumes it's random. Or maybe it's a sign that she's hungry after all they've done today, considering that she's pointing to some sort of food cart. Hot dogs, he thinks....?

Well, while he had gone out with the others during that short day where he could pretend to not be himself... Angeal had been a firm believer of "we have food at home, Genesis", and so they hadn't bought anything from any such food cart. So he can shake his head in complete honesty.

Is she interested? He recalls her questions back at the bank, the knowledge that she had been used as simple labor instead of any sort of worker. Maybe... "Here." He hands over his wallet - fortunately a thing he had made sure to have on him, and far less attention grabbing than opening his briefcase full of gil every single time he's had to pay for something. "If you want."

Rosso certainly doesn't hesitate in grabbing his wallet right out of his hand, but she doesn't run off right away either. She turns it about in her hand for a moment, thoughtful. "Making up for how rough you were with some sweetness?" she says, although it sounds just a little too absentminded to carry its usual teasing tone.

Which doesn't mean it isn't teasing, granted, and Sephiroth frowns. "It's not for that."

Maybe one day she'll stop laughing at him. Just not today, and she finally rises from her seat to glance down at him. "No, I suppose it is not, is it?" she says, and does that relaxed smirk again. Somehow... it suits her far better than the expression she'd had prior. "I shall see about not spending it all on that one cart."

"Do cart foods actually cost that much...?" He's not expecting Rosso to know either, frankly, although the way she laughs at him while walking away isn't exactly a surprise. He supposes it's fine. After all, she'd managed to go through the grocery store without causing... too major an incident. And there's something more important for him to deal with as well.

He still has the communication devices hidden on himself.

The small stone sitting wall, there underneath teal-colored shade... That matches the description that Lazard gave him and the others, on where it wold be best to hide the devices. Sephiroth keeps his eyes focused straight ahead of him, taking in everything there in the plaza, even as his hand dips down behind him, along the edge. One loose brick - there. With his strength, it doesn't take much at all before he's pulled it out with no struggle... and there are the devices, taken out from where he'd hidden them on his person, and tucked away. Back into place the brick goes... for the most part.

Is this truly the most secure trade off location that they can all manage? Sephiroth doesn't feel as though it possibly could be... not compared to how ShinRa handles it. But then, they do not quite have ShinRa's influence, do they? Nor its resources... besides those stolen from the company.

It will have to do. He will have to put his trust in the idea that Genesis truly will be able to pick it up before anyone else, whether thieves or ShinRa forces.

That's really all he can do before he looks up and sees Rosso with one clawed hand pulled back and the other fisted in the shirt of a journalist.

"It was not in that shop, so why should you be so bothered?" Rosso asks, the two of them having escaped another problematic crowd, still carrying armfuls of groceries. It's really only for that latter fact that he's sure she isn't doing more than rolling her shoulders in some sort of shrug, apathetic to the disaster that could have occurred.

Is this how Lazard feels sometimes? Sephiroth has to wonder, considering how tired he feels, and the day is only a little past halfway done. "It doesn't matter the location. Civilians are not to be harmed no matter what." Lazard has always been very firm on that stance, and Sephiroth doesn't plan on breaking that particular rule. Not today, at any rate. He would hope never. "What were you even doing, to be worked up so quickly like that..."

"I would think it clear, what I was doing," Rosso counters. He can't argue with that, honestly. It was fairly obvious that Rosso intended to tear a man's entire lower jaw off with the force of her fingers alone - a feat he has no doubt she could carry through with. What he can do is flatly stare at her, because they both know that isn't what he meant at all. Chuckling, Rosso looks back towards the apartment building that towers high above them and which is drawing ever more near. "If one acts so rudely to their superior, is it not right for that superior to retaliate?"

Sephiroth shakes his head. "Even if they are rude, we cannot act out like that..."

There is a lot more that he can say on that - things he should say, just in case there is the faintest of chances that it will stick in Rosso's head. Unfortunately, it is a conversation that will have to wait for another time. As they approach the apartment building, Sephiroth can see a small group gathered around two very different vehicles right at the entrance. One is a large white van, some sort of logo just barely visible along its side - ah, yes, the furniture store. He can recognize the logo even by a slight glimpse of it. But the other looks like a rather average and run down truck....

His approach has one of the group perk up - one of the apartment attendants. Sephiroth has only ever seen her at a distance, and rarely. He supposes that's true for many people... "Ah, General Sephiroth! Excuse me-" She jogs over to him, casting a brief glance at Rosso. "I apologize for interrupting you right as you returned, but there is something that needs your attention."

If it was something to do with ShinRa, or SOLDIER, then it would be someone in uniform approaching him right now... So it can't be that serious, can it? "What is it?"

"It has to do with a pair of deliveries that were addressed to your apartment..." She glances back at the group waiting there, hesitant to approach him. "We can identify one as the Karra Furniture Store, and they have the receipt to prove that the purchase is legitimate. However, the other individual wasn't able to do the same, but has insisted that he was sent through the proper channels. We were actually about to send him away, but... If it isn't too much trouble, could you confirm things for yourself?"

On its surface, it really doesn't seem like anything serious. However, his address isn't something that is common knowledge, in part due to Lazard carefully cracking down on anyone who would release such information. Sephiroth has no doubt that, in short time, the furniture store will soon be getting a call to not release even the name of the complex Sephiroth lives in, as though he could really live anywhere else.

For that reason alone... He supposes he should investigate. "I will not take long, so please do not go ahead of me," Sephiroth tells Rosso, who's lost that particular privilege until he can be sure she won't attempt another murder.

Even if she shakes her head, still not caring about what she did... At least she stays, even as he goes over everything.

The furniture delivery is indeed legitimate, and the driver takes off in their van almost immediately after Sephiroth shoos them away. It's the other delivery person that is stuck there with them, looking tired and anxious. A young man, somewhere in his twenties, wavy purple hair falling over one eye with black roots - dyed? He straightens his spine when Sephiroth turns to him. "Ah - good afternoon, sir!"

"Good afternoon." Sephiroth sweeps his gaze over the packages there in the man's arms. They're... paper boxes of some sort? And there seem to be even more of them in the bed of his truck, in larger cardboard boxes. "You have a delivery for me?"

"Yes, I do. And we only do legitimate deliveries at Guertena Deliveries. I was actually given a message to pass along to you as well, if that would help. Of course, if you don't authorize it..."

Then it is likely up to the delivery group on what they'll do with all the packages. That could be a problem, if the sender didn't give them a return address, which is likely. If it were that simple, they could have simple have gone through the mailing system that goes throughout Midgar and is run by ShinRa itself... although admittedly, that only counts for those up on the plates. Well, it's too early to make that decision yet. Accepting the letter, Sephiroth unfolds it to find some plainly written words there.

If you don't eat well, I'll be upset.

...And then there is a picture of a cartoon dog face with its tongue sticking out.

With everything that they all need to be focusing on right now... It has to be Angeal who would still focus so much on him eating, who would doodle something like that. Sephiroth doesn't understand the significance of a dog, exactly, but, somehow, he's still certain in his chest that it's Angeal over anyone else.

He smiles.

"It is alright. I accept the delivery," he says, and looks up to stares from three different sets of eyes. The delivery man is even blushing, staring at him with a wide eye. "Is there something wrong?"

There's a jolt from the apartment attendant, who quickly shakes her head. "Oh, no - not at all, General Sephiroth! Then, it is good that the delivery was appropriate. I should leave you all be..." Already she's stepping away.

"Actually... If you are not busy, could I request your assistance?" Sephiroth looks back to the bed of the ruck. "I am afraid this would take some time on my own."

That's especially true because he doesn't expect Rosso to really help - she already has the groceries she chose and that's more than enough really. But with the help of the delivery driver and even the apartment attendant for a couple of trips, it becomes a much easier process to deal with. Sephiroth doesn't think he's ever seen his apartment look so full before, by the time they're done. Plastic bags and paper boxes fill up every bit of available surface space, from the eating table to the kitchen counters, and even the coffee table in the living room. The living room that still has that plain sofa in it...

"Thank you for your assistance," he tells the delivery driver, who's been looking nervous for a while now. Rosso probably isn't help that matter, with the predatory way she's been looming about and that look in her eyes. Maybe that's why the apartment attendant left a little bit earlier... Which is a shame. "I should... tip you, yes?"

Another little thing that he's only heard about secondhand. The delivery driver is shaking his head, but Sephiroth is already going to reach for his wallet... before something else occurs to him first.

A tip is simply to show appreciation for a service done, isn't it? With something given in exchange?

"Would you like a couch?"

He's stared at again. Is this not acceptable? "I - a couch?" the delivery man manages, after a moment. "I mean - I suppose I could use a new one, but..."

Oh, maybe he thinks that Sephiroth is going to be completely out of a couch like this... Best to put any such worries to rest. "I recently purchased a new one," he explains. "I did not have anything planned for the one that I currently have, however. Would you like it, then, as a tip for your services? I understand that my building put you through some trouble..."

The delivery driver's mouth opens and closes for a moment, a process that Rosso seems to watch with no small amount of amusement. "I.... Are you certain that you just - want to give it to me?" the delivery driver manages after a second.

"I did not have anyone else in mind..." Sephiroth tilts his head to the side. "If you do not need it, then it is alright to refuse-"

As it turns out, the delivery man would really rather actually have it, thank you very much. And despite his fussing, Sephiroth insists upon helping move the couch down to the first floor, where the truck is waiting. It honestly only takes him, to the point that the driver seems a little bit sheepish when he hands him a pen and asks him to sign it somewhere. Which... is frankly not too unusual, although Sephiroth cannot say that he's ever signed for a piece of furniture before.

Rosso, of course, hadn't helped with the couch... but she's still there, and leans against his arm again with that calm ease of hers. "So that is how one gets rid of unwanted furniture," she teases. "Not a particularly important thing to recall... but I will remember it anyway."

Before he can point out that he's not actually entirely sure this is the right way to get rid of unwanted furniture, there's the sound of boots stomping hastily across the pavement, and Sephiroth catches sight of a Third Class recruit running their way. "Ah - First Class Sephiroth! Excuse me - but the Director wanted to see you and Rosso as soon as possible."

As soon as possible, is it? Sephiroth frowns at that. If Lazard is sending a message like that... If it's by person instead of by phone or radio, then it cannot be deathly serious, but it still seems more than important enough. "I understand. We will be there shortly."

...And of course, the moment that he and Rosso arrive at SOLDIER headquarters is when the secretary from before comes up to them, mouth twisted in displeasure before they smooth it out at the sight of him. "Sephiroth - I apologize, but Lazard requested that you wait just a little bit longer before he sees you. He was supposed to talk over things about you and Rosso's partnership alongside that Restrictor - person, and Professor Hollander, but they got an unexpected guest, and Director Lazard insisted you stay out of his office until then."

Rosso snaps her teeth together, arms crossing. "A guest that would waltz into there so brazenly.... Who could that be, I wonder?"

While he doesn't snap his teeth... Sephiroth definitely has the same question, and it must show in his eyes. The secretary hesitates for a moment before letting out a slow breath. "Apparently... Professor Hojo had something to speak about with Professor Hollander, and he wouldn't wait for him elsewhere. They were having a rather terse discussion, when I last checked in on them."

Even before they've finished speaking, Sephiroth's gut is already clenching in the pit of him. "I see," he says, keeping his voice level. Always level, always calm. Being anything else never did him any good. "Then... If we may trouble you by waiting out here for a while longer."

"Oh, of course. Although I need to return to my desk to finish compiling some information that the Director asked of me."

He has no problem with that, honestly, although it means that there's not very much for either him or Rosso to do for the time being. If they disappeared off even to the training room, well... Sephiroth doesn't want to imagine how invested Hojo would get in the progress his personal experiment has been making, especially in comparison to one of Hollander's. He doesn't want him and Rosso to be cornered in a place like that.

So there's nothing for it but for the two of them to wait there in the lobby of SOLDIER, listening to the clicking of the keyboard. It's far from the worst thing in the world, honestly, and it gives Sephiroth some time to go over his own affairs. Mostly, pulling out his wallet and flicking it open. Considering the event in the plaza, he's fairly certain that Rosso never got a chance to use any of the gil in there... Maybe they should try again... on a slower day. When there are less people. And Rosso is not feeling so inclined to attacking civilians.

And indeed, there is still the same amount of gil in there that was left from when they left the grocery store.... along with so many receipts, he realizes. The receipts from the furniture store, receipts from the grocery store - when did Rosso pick up a scarf, he thought she only got food there? Hm.

Nothing but long lists of paper... Yet, as he looks over it all, a memory surfaces in his mind. A faint one, compared to everything else he's ever experienced in his life, and yet still one that he thought to keep stored away. Lazard coming back from business trips, receipts laid out along his desk, his eyes glancing back to them as he'd typed. Sephiroth rubs his fingers along the smooth paper, before looking over to the secretary. "Is there... a form I should fill out, to cover payment done for ShinRa business?" Not that any ShinRa executive told him to buy a single thing for Rosso, but maybe...

The secretary blinks up at him, their thoughts almost visible as they refocus on him from what they were doing on the computer. "Well, yes, but - oh, for when you stepped out together?" He nods, and the secretary leans back, fingers curling at their chin. "Normally, you would send that sort of paperwork to the financial department, and they would cover the appropriate funds from the right place, but..." A pause. They look off down to one of the hallways, where Lazard's office lays. "...What department did you say you were from again, Rosso?"

Rosso raises an eyebrow; no doubt this all may as well be a foreign language to her considering the kind of experiences Sephiroth has extrapolated she's gone through. "Deepground. I am a Tsviet."

A smirk spreads across the secretary's face. "I've never heard of that department, but that's fine. I think we should be able to take whatever funds you've used up for Rosso straight out of their budget, and back to your own bank account, Sephiroth. Can I see the receipts?"

Well, it's not as though he cares about his bank account... but he supposes this does well enough. Going around the desk, he hands over the receipts, and watches as those fingers fly across the keyboard. Hopefully, Lazard won't be too upset that he's sidetracked his secretary from doing what he asked of them... Rosso follows, of course, frowning a bit. "And just what is the point of this?"

"Spite," the secretary answers almost immediately, absent minded impulse taking over all other motor functions, before they pause and have the decency to look a little sheepish when they glance back up at Rosso from the corner of their eyes. "With... all due respect. It's just, you see...."

Oh. Sephiroth thinks he understands now, in hindsight, why Lazard always look so satisfied after he'd finished up those particular financial reports with his receipts. At least, he understands it now that he understands Lazard always wanted ShinRa to suffer in some fashion, even if he's yet to tell Sephiroth exactly for what reasons. "It is allegedly very pleasurable to get back at opposing department's or one's superior's by filing paperwork such as this," he explains, before he looks back to the secretary. "Am I correct...?"

Has he put the secretary in an awkward position by explaining things in that manner? They still don't seem entirely certain about it, but Rosso looks far from aggravated or annoyed. Why would she? Deepground... is unpleasant to her as well.

So when no complaints, insults, or threats come, the secretary clears their throat. "That's right... It's one of the best things in the world to witness, when you hand the paperwork over to someone and you get to witness firsthand just what kind of expression they make when they see the total at the end of the bill that they have to pay."

He thinks they might be encouraging them to be a little more talkative than would perhaps be best for a professional environment... But at this time of day, there doesn't appear to be many others around at all, so at least no harm is done.

Rosso cocks her head to the side, considering the idea. "I think it would be far more satisfying to simply see them dead and bloodied upon the ground," she drawls, which is an answer that honestly suits her far too well. "Such a roundabout way of getting payback against unpleasant things..."

For normal civilians, Sephiroth has found that such statements tend to make them uneasy and nervous. Yet maybe it's because of the subject matter, but the secretary looks right at Rosso and says, "Death is too good for some people."

...Hm. They are definitely starting to talk very unprofessionally out here in the lobby.

Fortunately, he doesn't have to get involved in that kind of damage control - which is a good thing, because he's no good at dealing with that when it comes to social situations. The secretary - Micah, apparently - is more than happy to explain the ins and outs of making up a report such as the one they're making in order to make Deepground pay for everything. Apparently the key is to overload the other department with information so that they just sign off on an agreement to pay, and thus it's not the financial department's problem exactly... Or something along those lines. Either way, Secretary Micah encourages them to spend a lot more, and keep all of the receipts. 

While they are going over some questionable lessons in the professional sphere, Rosso suddenly looks up, and Sephiroth understands why a split second later. There's the sound of footsteps - purposeful, sharp, and yet not rushing. Never rushing.

Why should that man ever rush?

Recognition weighs down on Sephiroth's shoulders immediately, in direct contrast to the slight disconnect he feels in his mind. It's like holding his breath, waiting for water to subside, to be able to breathe once more. All he has to do is wait it out. Wait it out.

What he's not expecting is for sharp nails to suddenly fist into the front of his shirt, and he's forcefully dragged from the submerged state his mind had slipped into. A blink, and he's looking straight into Rosso's burning gaze - bold and bright even at her calmest. She doesn't tell him anything. All she does is pull at him, dragging him down to his knees... and then, when she finally lets go, it's only so that she can push him down to his back with her boot upon his chest.

Secretary Micah stares down at the scene right there now beneath their desk, and then up at Rosso, eyes wide as saucers.

But they don't have a chance to ask anything, and Sephiroth doesn't bother speaking up. Not when those footsteps get louder, louder, only to pause. "So. It seems as though you are the imitation of an imitation that he has brought out at long last. I can see just why you were kept in that box of his for so long. How desperate of him... Does he think this will be his chance to redeem himself?"

From his position on the floor, Sephiroth watches Rosso's fingers flex and loosen, flex and loosen, right there against the outside of her thigh. He can't quite see what shape her smile is taking, as she looks across the desk. Her voice is still honey sweet, accent perhaps even thicker. "And yet if I am an imitation of an imitation, what does it mean, I wonder, that they think you so weak that you cannot even be relied upon for this? You may play your games all you like, and I care little about it all... But something to keep in mind, no?"

Quiet thought it may be, Sephiroth's hearing can still pick up that derisive scoff, and then the footsteps begin again. Louder, for a moment, before they grow distant, faint, nonexistant. A kind of sound he often waited for, many a time, so that it felt as though he were a little less under the microscope.

It's only when the remaining sounds are distant phones ringing and the hum of the lights does the pressure on his chest ease up. Rosso sighs, hands gesturing loosely to the side while Sephiroth gets onto his feet. "What is worse - the leers of science, or the emotionless masks of jailkeepers? It is a question that I wonder may never find a true answer."

"Scientists," Sephiroth answers without hesitation, dusting himself off from the back.

Rosso flashes him a wry smile. "I suppose that is a good as answer as one may ever have."

The secretary clears their throat, and looks away. For some reason, they're blushing - did they get that anxious? "Well - ah, it looks like the Director is available to see you both now... So why don't you go on ahead? And about the report to be sent to Deepground - I'll work on that, so just bring me any other receipts you get this week, alright?"

Something to look forward to, perhaps.

Maybe he will even be able to tell Lazard about it, since the Director certainly looks as though he could use some good news when he and Rosso enter. He's braced against his desk, hands clasped together, and a bone deep exhaustion apparent in his eyes even if his expression is as perfectly put together as always. "I apologize for calling you pre-emptively ahead of the time that we had arranged previously. Before we go further, Sephiroth, this is Professor Hollander."

Obligingly, Sephiroth nods over to the stout man that stands besides the Restrictor there in the office. So that is the man responsible for Genesis and Angeal... Hojo's opposite in many ways, although he seems to be in about as bad a mood as he could hear Hojo was.

Hollander doesn't return his greeting in any manner. He barely seems to look at Rosso.

Lazard's mouth shifts that bare centimeter to show he's displeased by that little fact, but he continues on. "With introductions done, we have been speaking on the matter of tracking down the culprits from the incident a few days ago. The Turks appear to be handling the investigation to start with, which means that both Deepground and SOLDIER are going to be on standby. However, in this respect..." Lazard's gaze flicks over to Hollander. "It seems that both of our departments agree that it would be a waste of our resources, after everything, to simply leave you doing nothing here in headquarters. So we will be assigning you simple monster eradication missions taking place throughout Midgar. After an attack on ShinRa of that magnitude, it would be embarrassing if we let our guard slip in regards to the various monsters which manage to sneak in and propegate in the city- especially the slums." Lazard gives one of his fake smiles. "And I am sure that ShinRa's peacekeeping department would be so grateful to have less on their plate."

Right... Sephiroth understands. This would have to do with the interdepartment rivalries... Likely if he asks Lazard about it later, when it truly is just the two of them isolated from others, he'll understand even more. But he can tell that this is something that is hiding a true purpose underneath it.

If he compares it to prior missions and the excuses given to them... No doubt that this is meant to get him and Rosso all across the city, and able to some investigating of their own. Some investigating of SOLDIER and Deepground's own.

Better for them to split credit if it means getting one over the Turks.... right?

Both he and Rosso nod. "We understand," he says simply, when it becomes clear that Rosso isn't particularly interested in participating in the conversation. "We will do our duties appropriately. If we witness anything unusual, we will report immediately." Rosso may not even report to Deepground... especially if Sephiroth says that he will report to Lazard.

They can work with that.

Lazard nods in satisaction. "Very good." He glances down to his papers, starting to move some things around. "We will start on that tomorrow, then. In the meanwhile, there is something else that we apparently must bring up with you." He takes in a deep, slow breath. "...Sephiroth, did you two go out in public today?"

...Oh, right. From the corner of his eye, he can see Rosso start to smile again in nothing short of deep delight. "I had to make sure that my apartment had the appropriate items for a guest," he says matter of factly. The couch was fine for just himself, but... he wanted to do something better for her. Something that maybe he would have gotten if they'd lived better. He'd tell Lazard that on any other day; unfortunately they're not the only ones in the room. "I ensured that Rosso the Crimson did not cause any harm to civilians during it."

"That is all well and good," Lazard starts...

...Before he's suddenly interrupted by Hollander, that serious expression of his focused right on Sephiroth. "With how much you have been held up, that sort of thing should only be expected, I would imagine."

So he's so criticaly examined already.... Whatever argument he got into with Hojo must be bothering him still. Sephiroth has seen that sort of thing play out at a distance to recognize it to some degree. He's heard worst, so this much is something he can ignore. Sephiroth doesn't bother responding; he doesn't need to. Lazard thins his lips and does so instead. "Sephiroth is merely reporting things properly to me as he should, Professor Hollander. This includes matters which may seem trivial." He clears his throat. "As I was saying, Sephiroth, while I commend you for endeavoring to succeed at this new task and a partnership, which I am aware is a new experience for you..." He shakes his head. "...Please find some other manner of retrieving what you need. We have been getting a great deal of people inquiring about and just who Rosso is in relation to you." One finger twitches, in a way that Sephiroth knows betrays Lazard's desire to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I've had to devote some of the time today to addressing those concerns..."

Ah. Sephiroth does feel a little bad about that. "I apologize, Director. I had thougth that the matter would be simple enough." He's gone out so rarely that he had never truly experienced all of.... that.

And it hadn't helped that his last experience in public hadn't been as himself, but rather in disguise, trailing quietly behind Gillian and Genesis, listening to Angeal's instructions. That had been his own fault. Next time, he resolves, he will ensure that he is far more subtle. Or, at least... they will do their business in the dead of night, when they can avoid paparazzi more.

Lazard shakes his head. "As long as you are aware of the issue for now. There's no erasing what's already been done, but I will need to contact you before you or Miss Rosso go out once again in public."

"Yes, Director." Sephiroth's gaze flicks back towards the silent pair standing there in the room. Unlike before, the Restrictor seems content to say quiet throughout all of this. Is it even the same person as before? It's impossible to tell right now, with the helmet and the obscuring cloak. Maybe it's easier to simply let Hollander speak. "Will Deepground have nothing to contribute on Rosso the Crimson's appearance in the public eye?"

Holland crosses his arms, seeming to at least consider the question. It's more than he's ever seen from Hojo, he will give the man that, although it also doesn't mean much. "For something as minor as this, simply explaining that she's being assisted by SOLDIER is enough. Although I would take care, even for someone of First Class such as your Sephiroth. Rosso is extremely skilled at what she does, but she is rather ill tempered. Since you are lacking the technology that those involved in Deepground possess, it would only take a brief moment of neglect for her to cause a serious problem for ShinRa."

Is he hoping that Sephiroth will indeed make a mistake like that? Perhaps that would suit him just as much as if Rosso did excellently by his side in this partnership - a show that he is still weak and can let something like that slip through his fingers.

Sephiroth doesn't plan on letting that happen.

"I will be sure to do so, Professor Hollander," he says plainly, no emotion in his voice. The same tone he's used before on so many other scientists and ShinRa executives. "However, you do not need to concern yourself with such a matter." He inclines his head towards him politely. "I am capable of working with Rosso the Crimson without the need to hide any inadequacies behind technology."

Maybe he shouldn't have said that. Even if the Restrictor makes the faintest noise of interest, even if one corner of Lazard's mouth twitches in amusement.... He can see the outrage widening Hollander's eyes.

Sephiroth takes her by the hand. "We will ensure not to go out without consulting you first, Director. In the meantime, we still have much to take care of in preparation for our continued partnership." He bows his head to Lazard, and Lazard only. "I hope you do not mind if we are excused."

"Dismissed," Lazard says before Hollander can say anything, and just the first syllable is enough for Sephiroth to leave, taking Rosso with him. Calmly and inoffensively.

...Save for the fact that Rosso starts to cackle before they've even made it halfway down the hall, head tossed back in utter mirth. "And to think your mouth has such thorns hiding behind it," she teases, and he thinks she steps on the back of his heel on purpose, there. "Was that a way of boasting too?"

He cannot deny that it undoubtedly came off that way, and was almost intended to, but... Sephiroth pauses, when it seems as though they're far away enough from Lazard's office. "...I wanted to thank you." He looks to her, into those baffled eyes. "When Hojo was coming out towards the lobby, you hid me from his sight... so that I would not have to deal with him myself." So he wouldn't even have to look that man in the face, the revulsion curling in his stomach. Sephiroth glances down to the floor beneath them. "I could not hide you from the Restrictor or Hollander myself. That much was all that I could do..." That does remind him of something, however, and he looks up at Rosso again. "Although I can only make that statement true with your assistance. So, if you could please cooperate with me, I will do whatever you wish. Within reason."

It feels very important to add in those last two words.

Then again, he wonders if Rosso has even heard them considering the way she smiles and turns towards him, her hand slipping out of his grasp. "Anything I wish, is that so?" she purrs, dragging her fingers up to his chest before she steps forward. Again, and then again, until her palm can press just past his ribs, up against the wall. "Then if you so desperately wish for me to take advantage of you..."





"Ha... And to think that you did not even break a sweat, after all of that..."

"That is simply how my body is structured. If there is anything to be impressed by, I underestimated your stamina."

"Oh ho... and yet in the end, truly that is not a match for you, is it? Such endless energy, I wonder if a single woman such as myself can eck out even a fraction fo it..."

"I have a feeling that if there is anyone that could leave me exhausted, you are a much finer candidate than anyone else, Rosso."

"And there is that fine mouth once more in perfect action... What a fine shape it made then, although your compliments can be accepted as well." The elevator dings, bringing them back to his apartment's floor, and Rosso steps out with her arms stretching up over her head. "You know, you are only the second man who has ever bested me in combat. I suppose I should be far more aggrieved than I truly feel."

Despite the fact that Rosso accurately pointed out he never sweat a single drop during their sparring session - "sparring" as much as that level of bloodlust could be called - Sephiroth still finds himself in a bit of a state. He has to push his hair out of his face while following after her, his other hand feeling for the key in his pocket. "So... one of the other Tsviets, then?" he asks, as he unlocks the door for them. It still feels strange, to open it and find so many boxes and bags still scattered about. Even in the dark, he can see it all so clearly, even before Rosso flicks a light on.

"Indeed." Rosso starts peeling away some of the clothing on her body. All the little accessories for the most part, such as the things on her wrists, belts, minor things like that. Her shirt. "You know, you remind me of him... Perhaps that is what some would call fate."

Probably she's going to take a shower - that's the standard when it comes to a habit one is trained into after intense training, or taxing tests. Sephiroth would know that from experience. Well, she can have the first go of it. Sephiroth himself goes to the kitchen, checking over everything to make sure that nothing was left out which shouldn't have been. Probably, by the time she's done, he'll have finished as well, and he can move on to making dinner. An incredibly... very.... late dinner. They've skipped lunch for that sparring session, so he supposes he should make this good. "Am I authorized to know his name?"

Rosso laughs again, although this one doesn't have the usual kind of bite to it. "Oh, of course not," she says, before she continues on. "But I will tell you regardless. Who knows?" There's the light flap of her shirt hitting the floor. He will have her pick that up herself, later. "Perhaps if this all goes well, or those little thieves are a bigger difficulty than thought... They may dare to pull out even more of us, and you will have a chance to meet him, our Weiss."

Weiss... Someone she seems fond of? Or, if nothing else, Sephiroth supposes that she must at least respect him. He focuses on putting some of the boxes that Angeal sent away. His entire fridge is close to overflowing, now. "Perhaps. I do not know how Deepground operates... besides that it seems to prefer secrecy."

"Indeed... Even I know that much, and they desired me as nothing more than as I am." He's fairly certain they might have hoped for something else than an out of control berserker, but that's their own fault. It's besides the point. Sephiroth expects that to be the end of the conversation, at least for the time being, considering Rosso's own state of undress. Yet instead of her footsteps going down the hall and disappearing with the click of a door, he hears her voice start up again from right behind him. "Who normally sends the food that you eat?"

Ah. This. Sephiroth continues to put away the other boxes, the ones that don't have things which need to be refrigerated. "The Science Department... And Hojo behind all of that."

Rosso hums, her thoughts hard to keep track of for him. "Indeed, something similar for us... Then, the place you stayed in was not always this apartment."

He thinks... he's starting to see where her mind is going, now. Sephiroth's movements become slower for a moment, hesitating even as he continues to put things away. "...In the lab for my particular project." He knows what she'll ask next. The only next logical thing. So, before she can ask - "I was kept there for over a decade."

No doubt from the day he first opened his eyes to the world, and then all the way to when Lazard finally found him, and offered him his hand.

It's been most of his life, now. More of his life spent in that life than out of it.

Nothing from Rosso. Maybe that is what she wanted to know, all this time... ever since they first stood in the same room as one another. But she doesn't tell him. Instead, she steps forward, picking up one of the boxes herself. He hadn't noticed before, his back to her, but she's wearing a smaller shirt - sleeveless, stopping over her stomach. "Over a decade," she echoes, taking in that fact, before she looks over at him. "So is there a method to any of this?" She holds up the paper box pointedly.

He does have a method to where he is putting each container, as a matter of fact. What else would he do - leave it all scattered around, mismatched items crammed into the same cupboard? The only things which do not get put away would be the chicken, the three bottles - two sauces, one honey - standing besides it.

"I thought you had only eaten what you were given," Rosso says, as he takes out the chicken to start patting it dry with paper towels. "So just what will we do with this?"

This.... He can't just tell her that he watched Angeal make it, so he has a small bit of confidence in replicating the process. "I saw something like this once," is all he says, which is true. "If we pour together those three things... We should be able to put it on the chicken while it finishes cooking." He can still recall the temperature that Angeal put the oven at, and how long it took for him to remove the chicken from it, can't he?

Maybe it's just from idle curiosity, but at least Rosso helps him mix the sauce together. Angeal hadn't used any measuring tools when making the sauce, so all the two of them can do is guess at the proper ratio and amount while the chicken cooks.

And from the first bite, when they finally seat at the table... Sephiroth frowns. It doesn't taste horrible, although he would eat anything so that food was not wasted. It's just....

Why doesn't it taste as good as the plate that Angeal handed over to him?

"Mm!" His thoughts fall away, then, and he looks up, across the table. This surely isn't as good as what Angeal has made for him... and yet Rosso doesn't look as though she cares.

Instead, one hand covered in sauce holds onto the chicken, and the other is against her mouth, underneath shocked wide eyes. It's but a moment of surprise, uncertainty on the food that's in her mouth, before all of those feelings are tossed aside. Without caring for how she looks, the mess she makes, she begins to tear through the meat as though seized with some sort of inherent feral nature. Sauce smears across her cheeks from those frantic motions. All she does is reach for another piece.

She doesn't say anything. She doesn't need to. Sephiroth... knows that feeling well.

This isn't Angeal's cooking... but he can still give her this, can't he?