Gun AU 7

[warmskies]

"It would be missing the point to send the pair of you out past Midgar when the threat that may undermine ShinRa could potentially still be lurking here," Lazard tells them. "So while there are far more missions worthy of your skill, you will have to simply deal with more minor matters here in Midgar."

Rosso's mouth curls in distaste. "If there were truly anything worthy of us, then I could not imagine that ShinRa would have let it exist for so long unattended to."

"Ha... Yes, I must admit that is the case, Miss Rosso. The threats which exist in the sewer systems and have thrived in the slum mostly manage to be so successful because, even if they are weak, they reproduce rapidly or at least cleverly. There will not be many things here in Midgar which would truly require your attention. However, considering the aftermath of what happened to ShinRa, the president would rather consolidate his power again here in Midgar so that the base beneath his feet is not at risk of cracking while we are still at war with Wutai."

Yes, that makes sense, and Sephiroth nods. "ShinRa may want what Wutai has, in many ways... but I suppose it did not become successful by ignoring what was around its feet."

"As you say, Sephiroth. So that people do not lose their faith in the company or think it weak, the president does indeed want some of his cards close at hand, at least for a short while. I imagine that if the Turks do not find enough information or any leads on the attackers soon, or our own joint operation with Deepground and SOLDIER, he will assume that the group which attacked ShinRa has made a run for it in some manner, and that will be the end of it here."

A click, a small thud.

Cocking her head to the side, Rosso taps her nails along the floor. "And that will be the end of this little operation," she says thoughtfully. Perhaps it is Sephiroth thinking too deeply into it, but he feels as though there is a trace of disappointment in her voice. "Would it be better for your little games if they were caught all the sooner, Director?"

A couple of metallic squeaks. "I am afraid I am unsure of what you mean when you refer to 'games', Miss Rosso, but I will agree that it would look better for both Deepground and SOLDIER if we were able to find the culprits before the Turks did. There is apparently some manner of drama in that department, so it would take relatively little for SOLDIER and Deepground to shine. However, I do not expect that to be an easy task for even both of you, considering I know this is not something which normally falls into your jurisdictions."

"We will ensure that we investigate things with due diligence and care to make up for the inexperience," Sephiroth tells him. It doesn't hurt to say such a thing.  After all, nowhere they'll look will lead to any evidence that could take them to Gillian.

He and Lazard both know this, and his director gives a nod. "Very good. Although speaking of something which falls out of one's jurisdiction...." Lazard sighs. "Why am I helping you both put together a couch...?"

Sephiroth mimics Rosso, tilting his head to the side, albeit slower. "It proved to be slightly more confusing than we expected it to be," he says matter of factly. "Neither I nor Rosso have experience with this sort of procedure, as you had hired other people to furnish my apartment for me." It had been a very busy couple of days, a very busy week or two, back then. There just hadn't been time for him to put together furniture in his own apartment when he was also becoming an actual person with things like paperwork to his name. Things to dupe any nosy reporters, apparently. "I thought that you would know more about such a matter."

Leaning away from the now mostly put together couch, Lazard pinches the bridge of his nose underneath his frames. "For such a small matter... Didn't the couch come with any instructions whatsoever?"

"They were simply terrible," Rosso drawls, not mentioning that she tore them to shreds when they couldn't get the couch put together quick enough on their own. "Truly I did not foresee that it would be such a trial that not even Sephiroth could overcome."

Lazard glances over to him with a raised eyebrow, and Sephiroth schools his face into a completely blank mask. Completely. No emotions. He refuses to let there be any emotions. In fact, he thinks he will not even make eye contact with Lazard, and he looks away towards the window. "The instructions," he says slowly, "were poorly written."

"Of course," Lazard says. He sounds amused, doesn't he? It was one thing when it was Rosso bickering with him on the construction of the couch. Somehow, it feels more awkward for Lazard to acknowledge it. "At any rate - I already have your first set of extermination missions prepared."

A huff slips out of Rosso, but she doesn't move from her spot, instead watching with her eyes alone as Lazard gets up to his feet. "I suppose credit must be given to how busy you are, there in SOLDIER," she says, while he starts going through the briefcase he brought with him. "You must have your nose about every little thing, to have it all prepared already."

"I shall take that as a compliment towards my industriousness," Lazard says, putting on a front of good nature while sliding out the appropriate folders. "But here, Sephiroth. I expect that this arrangement will go on for a week if there are no changes. So, for this week, simply report down to SOLDIER headquarters for your latest assignment. I will keep them relatively simple, so that the two of you can have a degree of flexibility while out on your missions. Feel free to investigate whatever catches your attention... and I will give you both communication pieces so that you can maintain contact with one another no matter what might happen."

Sephiroth gets up and, after a moment, so does Rosso, the both of them accepting both mission and device. "Did you not already give me one of these?" Rosso asks, turning it over in her hand idly.

"That would have been the device which connects you on a longer signal to SOLDIER headquarters," Lazard explains with a nod of his head. "However, this one is for much shorter distances. This way, if you and Sephiroth feel the need the separate for whatever reason, you should still be able to stay in contact with one another, no matter what may be in the way. That is the idea, at any rate." He crosses his arms. "It is still a bit experimental, so let us know if does not work as well as one would like it to, and we can complain to the engineering department."

Or at least that is what Lazard says.... and yet as Sephiroth looks over the device in his hand, he can't help but note its similarities to what he retrieved for Gillian, Angeal, and Genesis.

Well... He supposes this is also one way of doing things.





"For such a dull assignment, we should add something more to it," Rosso suggests, as the two of them go off on their first assignment. They have their own private train car for this sort of thing, isolated from the average person, which is probably for the best. Sephiroth can already tell that she's a little bit worked up all over again, and he's not entirely sure if a spar with him would get her energy out. "A... competition, if you would." Raising curled fingers up to her lips, she smirks over to him.

Competition... That wouldn't exactly be the first time that he's engaged in such a thing, technically. Back during his early days in SOLDIER, he was more than aware that the Peacekeeping Department wanted to put a bit of pressure on SOLDIER, and Lazard especially. Lazard had gotten his help, then, in engaging in a few faux friendly matches between them.

They'd been called "friendly" competition, but Sephiroth hadn't entirely understood what was so friendly between them until Lazard eventually admitted that they weren't.

However, that had been between departments. He's never had anyone suggest one on an individual level - no one has ever dared to approach him in such a confident and friendly manner. "What kind of competition?" he can't help but ask, curiosity piqued.

It's exactly what Rosso wants to hear, judging by her smile, and she flicks her hand through the air. "Our prey for the day are these... Sahagins, is that not so?"

"That's right. A colony of Sahagin are starting to become larger than is normal, and their activities may damage some of the machinery in Midgar's sewers," Sephiroth recites, having memorized the mission summary already. "We are to eradicate their main base of operations, clean up any remnants, and ensure that the machinery down in the sewers is not too severely damaged."

Rosso chuckles. "I wonder, were I to ask, if you could recite every little single word from that file..." He could, as a matter of fact, but Rosso doesn't ask him. Instead, she proposes, "Then, if it is such a large amount to form a colony... Why not see which of us slaughters the most of their ilk?"

A matter of numbers... Honestly, Sephiroth is confident that probably only one of them is needed for this sort of menial task. Even if he is relatively confident that he is stronger than Rosso, she's clearly still skilled in her own right. So what would happen if the two of them tried to go as quickly as possible, tried to eliminate as many of their targets as they could...?

For all that he's done his best to be efficient and quick during any mission... Sephiroth has to admit that he's never done anything like her suggestion before.

And.... it's exciting.

"We will have to make it fair," he says, already thinking on the manner. "For example, we will have to start at the exact same time... so that there is no extra edge towards the other person."

Rosso taps her boot heel along the car's metal floor. "I suppose... Hm, then let us agree on this." She raises one finger, near to his face. "We start only when we arrive at the colony together. Nothing else shall count towards our little game until we arrive there, to their little den."

"We can keep count of our scores by taking the spears that Sahagin tend to carry," Sephiroth adds, because it's the simplest thing to deal with. If they clever enough to use tools, then that may very well mean there are Sahagin who do not, and have other purposes within their groups... but they will see about that when the matter arises. It is not as though he is an expert in Sahagin matters, so he can't think of any other way of showing proof.

"Why not tear off their shells instead, to show that our numbers?" Rosso suggests.

...Which is definitely another way, Sephiroth supposes.

"If you would like to waste time tearing apart a Sahagin's corpse instead of making more, I would not stop you," Sephiroth states plainly, and Rosso pauses.

They go with the spear method for the time being.





For someone that had only just recently seen the sky for the first time, Rosso navigates the sewers with extraordinary ease. There is no hesitation in what ladder to go up or which tunnel to go down. "They permitted us this much," she says dismissively when Sephiroth comments on it. "The weakest of us were ironically give more freedom... Sent out to distant battlefields, it seems, to play fetch with corpses."

He thought that most corpses out on foreign lands were unable to be retrieved... Is there an implication to her words? Such a thing would have sounded unbelievable, once upon a time, but...

No. Maybe it never would have sounded as unbelievable as he pretends it is, now. Not when he knew from a long time ago that he was always just a tool raised in a lab, even if he never knew the true extent of it. Probably... The idea of ShinRa taking back corpses, to use for who knows what, would have always been something he could have believed in easily.

There is nothing he can do about that now, honestly. "So if they were sent to retrieve corpses from the battlefields, then why were you sent into Midgar's sewers?" he asks.

"I wonder why," Rosso muses, glancing down past the railing, into the path that's long since dried up of water and now leaves behind only filth and debris. "They would never tell such a thing to tools of our status. Perhaps practice... perhaps to tease us with the idea of freedom. In the end, it matters little, would you not agree?"

She may be right, there. Sephiroth was always taught that there was much to be gained from learning the process of things, at least in the lab, and Lazard as well tried to impart upon him that it was important to know why things happened... if only so that he could gain power and stability for himself. Yet at the same time, sometimes the reasons may not matter. Sometimes...

The reasons will never matter in comparison to the effect.

"You are not wrong," he says quietly, and there is that moment when Rosso looks back at him... It's like when she helped him in the kitchen, when they locked eyes while out shopping, many moments like that.

It's strange, honestly. Never did he think he would ever, in his lifetime, find others who might understand him the way that he's found so many people understanding him in just the past week or so. To know that there are others... how should he feel, with this knowledge resting in his breast?

There is hardly any difficulty, between the two of them combined, in finding the exact place they need to be at. They even get there with minimal distractions, although the Ceasars which flourish in such a wet environment truly never seem to let up. But soon enough, they've slipped through one of the larger pipes and into a large central area of some sort. A place that would be more pipes and levers and wheels than anything else... if not for the fact that a variety of trash is propped up in all sorts of areas, forming roughly made shelters.

In that respect, perhaps they are no different from thee people who live in the slums, struggling to make lives out of abandoned train cars and whatever refuse that could be found.... but unfortunately, Sephiroth cannot look too deeply into those sort of matters.

They are clogging up the sewer lines of Midgar, and becoming an eyesore to ShinRa most importantly of all... and so they must be rid of.

He and Rosso brace themselves in the large pipe that they took to get to this area. Masamune isn't really suited for such tight quarters, but that just means he will have to be a little more creative in how he uses it. "On the count of three, then," he murmurs. Besides him, Rosso only bares her teeth in barely restrained delight.

Sephiroth lunges out first, Masamune already unsheathed in his hands, ready to pierce straight through -

- and a gunshot. His target crumples to the ground, limp, and he doesn't even have to look back to know the kind of smile that must be accompanying Rosso's laugh. Doesn't have to look at his reflection in the puddles of water or rusted metal to know that he's smiling, too.

His fault, for not considering the dual nature of Rosso's weapon. He can't find it in himself to be upset at all.

All he can do is twist on his heel, braced against fragile railing, and readjust who his target is, Masamune sliding through so neatly inbetween the gaps of the pipes.





"See? You're missing a couple from what you called out before."

"Tch! Picking up the spears once they've been dropped... It truly is such a troublesome process! Yet you seemed to have so little trouble at all kicking them to one portion of the room."

"Well, it'd be a waste if I didn't recall the rules that we agreed upon... Hm. Look, that one is yours. It has the gunshot in its head."

"Ah! Very true. Then... There we go. One more to my pile. I should have used my gun more, for that would have made identifying the corpses so much simpler..."

"You wanted to tear through them too much... You should use your gun more. You are far from a bad shot."

"Oh, I am more than aware of my skill, my dear, but there are times when skill alone is not enough for one's satisfaction. I could see it in you, too, you know... But this place is a paltry battlefield for a weapon such as yours. We should have that director of yours give us a mission in a place with far more space to it."

"...I am fine working in any conditions that are given to me."

"Yes, yes, we are all capable of as much. But should you have to limit yourself so when it is not needed? Is there not a wondrous freedom, in feeling one's blade curve so neatly through flesh? To throw your full strength behind everything?"

"...If I were to put my fell strength behind a swing, I would cause damage to the buildings in Midgar. I've only done it on the battlefield. If you make an example out of even just one enemy squadron, then... it demoralizes the rest of their comrades, and they're more likely to surrender. It leads to less loss of life that way... on both sides. It's more efficient."

"Of course. Efficiency. And yet that surely cannot be enough as a reason alone, hm?"

"...."

"Ah, there... A bullet hole and a sword piercing together. It is impossible to tell which of us caused its death first, alas. That one will have to be discarded."

"...Why do you like fighting so much, Rosso?"

"Ha, a silly question... but I suppose, for you, I will grant the answer. Is it not the place of a weapon to find joy in being used properly? I was made for nothing else, you know. My existence, from the very beginning, was to be used as a weapon. Would it not be foolish of me, to find anything less than joy in it? It was not even so difficult. The way blood spills, the pull of flesh separating... There is such beauty to these things, when you adjust. You know it too, do you not? To find freedom in the only direction they allow us?"

"...Could we call that freedom?"

"Who knows... Not I. And yet what other freedoms can we gain?"

"I admit the options are... limited."

"Ha! Such a kind way of putting it, Sephiroth. Mmm, but you know, now I must ask as well. Why do you like fighting so much? Hm?"

"I suppose... it is for the same reason that you gave. When I was first able to lay my hands on Masamune... Even if it was only but for a moment, I was still able to have a say in things for the first time in my entire life. Masamune... is what gives me air to breathe. And Lazard helped me find more of it. Out on the battlefield... nothing holds me back besides myself."

"Exactly.... Exactly."

"...It seems as though the machinery and pipes here are mostly intact. There are a few areas where they punctured through in order to access water, however. There should be some excess metal laying about here; have you seen any of it?"

"Yes, I saw some scrap here and there. Industrious little vermin, are they not? What do you plan to do with it?"

"It will take some finesse, but I should be able to use Fire in order to meld the metal back into place and replace the pipes to their original purpose."

"For what reason?"

"With how ShinRa functions... I doubt that they will have anyone return down here to fix the pipes for some times. In that time... Another infestation may occur. And, this way... Well. We were told to be thorough in our mission, weren't we?"

"Yes.... Yes, we were. And who knows? Perhaps these devious little terrorists of ShinRa's have been messing with the pipes, no? Stay right there, I will see about the metal."





Midgar is a complex and enormous place, as is only fitting of a city made up of numerous layers. Rosso is more than happy to agree with him on this front, and that they should look into every space they can. If this keeps them away from SOLDIER headquarters, and especially the Restrictor or Hollander or Hojo, for just a little while longer... Surely, they agree that it is just purely coincidence. That is what they confirm with one another, as they make their way through the sewers.

And it is nice, honestly, even if the sewers are dark and suffocating in some ways. Sephiroth doesn't mind it. He merely likes... that he and Rosso can have time away from everything that reminds them of their positions.

There is a sort of privacy to the sewers as well; he can see why Gillian chose to use it when her group slipped away from ShinRa's grasp that first night. Only their short term communication devices work down in the depths, with everything that could connect to ShinRa finding nothing but static. Too much metal and concrete is in the way... at least, when it comes to the radios.

If only that was the case for ShinRa as a whole. If only there was a distance that seemed like it could truly be enough.

At least it's interesting, seeing the different ways that Midgar is connected to itself, the intestines of the city. Rosso also seems to have a decent idea of how they're structured as well, more than Sephiroth would have guessed due to her particular interests. "They never told us where they would release us," she says dismissively as the two of them glance down a long pipe shaft. "It was merely to throw us to the monsters, when we were young, to see which of us learned quicker, and who would survive. In truth, I was never in this particular place... but they all follow the same rules and choices, in the end."

"In what way?" Sephiroth asks, pushing away from the shaft, back onto the walkway.

Rosso taps along the outside of her thigh a bit, coming back to join him so that the two of them can continue their journey throughout the massive underground. "Certain equipment is only under certain places, or connects to certain things. Trivial pieces of knowledge such as that. Truly nothing worthy of any interest, compared to everything else... and yet I suppose it assisted me, in surviving, when I was still so dull as to not be able to shred through all which stood in my way."

When he had just started his career in SOLDIER, some had commented on the things he went through while so young. Only twelve... Yet he suspects, just from what Rosso tells him, that twelve is nothing. Not really.

Saying something like that, however... wouldn't do either of them any good. So Sephiroth only nods, because that feels like the most he can do in such a case. "Like knowing that certain plants grow near water, or in the presence of certain trees... I understand."

"So you have even been sent out into the world to see things such as plants," Rosso says. Her expression seems mostly distant, but.... Sephiroth can understand.

With their movements restricted as they are, Sephiroth won't dare to make her promises that he knows he wouldn't be able to keep. The best he can offer is, "If the results of our missions go well, even if we do not catch the perpetrators of the ShinRa building attack... Deepground may send you out on missions beyond Midgar. To where you can see the sky more, and plants."

It's meant to be a reassurance. Rosso only laughs at him some more. "And be wielded by pathetic hands such as those of the Restrictor?" she mocks, before she seems to settle down in some way. She even leans against him - maybe it would be more accurate to say that she bumps into him with her whole body, just a step below a body slam. "I would sooner wretch, my dear. For all the wonders that I could see in the world, they would be naught but bile on my tongue, to know that I would see them with a short chain around my neck." She shakes her head, a bittersweet smile there on her mouth. "Even if I am only to be a weapon, I deserve to have some pride in who wields me, no?"

Pride in who wields her... In other words, only those she approves of can tell her, truly, where to go and what to do. And in order to have that pride... She'll even bite the hand of any who approach her.

It's a life that Sephiroth can't imagine for himself, honestly. It never would have even occurred to him. Stubbornly being uncontrollable? Refusing to be used to the point of even suffering extreme electrical shocks? On one hand, he knows it is illogical, and foolish, and wouldn't help in the long term.

And yet...

"That sort of pride... is enviable," he says slowly.

Or maybe it isn't even something that can be called pride. Rather, from his point of view... It's a sense of self so strong that it buckles to nothing. Could he have ever claimed to have something like that before?

Rosso laughs again, but it's not as sharp as the one that preceded it. "Oh, I am nothing if not full of pride," she teases him as they ascend up to a different level of the sewers. "That is why you should watch where you sit from so high, my dear. I am not one that is content to go against something so powerful and then let him rest."

A smile twitches its way onto Sephiroth's lips. "Then, when we have finished clearing out the sewer system, I expect you will want another sparring session in the training room."

"But of course. Just this meager amount of carnage is far from enough to satisfy me."

As though there isn't a small trail of bodies left in their wake, some of them gathered up into small piles that they'll have to properly dispose of later. Well, Sephiroth can understand what she means. With her level of skill and how long and hard she can keep fighting, this is really nothing more than a warm up at best. He nods his head in concession. "I will make sure that you will have a hard time even getting up to walk tonight," he says.

Because that's the kind of battle she's looking for, isn't it? And yet there's that delighted sort of grin again, an absolute delight towards something that is a mystery to himself. She not-quite-body-slams him again. "I shall expect you to leave my legs trembling," she purrs.

Honestly, he has no idea what it is that has her snickering so much, but he supposes he should just let it be. At least her laughing means she's in a better mood than when she's upset, doesn't it?

No doubt the two of them could roam the sewer system for the entirety of the week that they have... but Lazard has more missions for them that surely take place in more than just the sewers. And there are other things that will require their attention, too. Things he's fairly certain not even Rosso is considering... until a faint rumbling sort of groan slinks its way out of her body. Her stomach.

It's like a chain effect - his own soon mimics the noise she'd made and he looks down at his own body, bewildered at its betrayal. It's rarely ever done this to him before. In fact, he knows that he can go for much longer without food. It was one of the things that he was tested on, in the labs.

Rosso snorts a bit - an inelegant sound that doesn't normally leave her. "The look on your face is quite ridiculous... Did the passage of time startle you so?"

"That isn't the reason I was surprised..." Clearly there's no hiding things from her. If he were on his own, Sephiroth supposes that he would be fine with ignoring his own body, pressing forward, doing everything that needed to be done before bothering with his own bodily functions. And yet, as he glances up at her...

Lazard had implied... that they should take their time doing things, didn't he?

"Do you want to get something to eat...?"

There are actually a variety of paths up from the sewer system of Midgar onto its streets, although some are more acceptable than others. He and Rosso went in from a maintenance building that ShinRa gave them access to - not too unlike the one which Gillian and her sons broke into the night they escaped from ShinRa. However, if one is simply willing to walk a little bit more, and go up to the manhole covers, that gives them far more options.

It also gives them a whole host of other problems, considering the kinds of places that they open up into. The middle of busy roads where even a small lift almost slams it back down onto his head again from a passing car, to bustling plazas where they'd have to deal with paparazzi again...

"We should just slaughter them all," Rosso complains after the fourth manhole cover is lifted to reveal another place that doesn't fit their needs at all. "A single display, and the rest would fall in line. Is that not how you did things while you were sent off on your own missions?" She raises an eyebrow at him, even as they both move onto the next cover.

Maybe he shouldn't have told her about that. Rosso has a certain sort of aura to her, simultaneously sharp and blunt, that wouldn't make one think she's clever. Certainly, he suspects that she doesn't see the need for cleverness with her life being what it is. And yet she remembers things well.

It's too late to go back on anything now, however, so he only sighs. "That is when dealing with foes who would cause a loss of life on my own side. Civilians aren't worth that."

Rosso's snort says all it needs to on how she feels about that - on them having their own side when they're treated the way that they are, when they are what they are. Yet she doesn't press on the matter. Perhaps that's a sign that he's managed to make his boundaries more than clear enough... or maybe she just doesn't see any reason in pressing on the matter, especially with a promise of food soon to come.

And it does come soon to them, as it turns out, although Sephiroth doesn't think that's how it will start out when he first pushes up the manhole cover only to establish eye contact with another pair of deep red eyes.

He pauses. A young girl of a young age - he's never been good at ages past a certain point, but not a teenager - just watches him with a silent stare. It seems as though he has a tendency for the color red, lately... First Genesis, then Rosso, and now this child with dark red hair and a matching skirt. Looking past her, he can see that the manhole cover seems to be at the opening to some alley or another, and that there is a stall set up near some sort of storefront. And there are... fruit?

She's on the selling side, not the customer side, even if she is legally too young to work... probably.

"Hello," he says very quietly, while Rosso squeezes up besides him when it's clear he's not going to immediately retreat. He doesn't want to be too noisy and get the attention of the clerks that are busy at the stall. "Is this your family's business?"

A nod.

This is probably not the norm, in terms of buying food, but Sephiroth supposes it's fine due to their circumstances. "Then, may we purchase some fruit from you?" he asks, while Rosso squints past him to investigate the set up herself. As long as she doesn't crawl out, it's fine. "We do have money."

The girl seems to consider it with a serious expression that reminds him of, well, how Aerith would look whenever she was trying to mimic him as a child. Yet after a moment, she nods. "What fruit would you like?" she asks, mimicking him in how low she keeps her voice. "We have pears, apples - but no dumbapples, they're out already - and peaches."

Dumbapples.... That's a rarity he's never heard of, but that rarity may well be why they're sold out already. Sephiroth considers things carefully. He think it was a peach that Lazard gave him once upon a time, but... "Two of each. Please."

He's given a nod in return, and then the girl obediently turns away. The two people at the stall - something about them seems similar to her, so relatives? - are too busy to pay much mind to her as she ducks her way around their bodies. At least it seems as though she has some skill in going around troublesome places... Nothing stops her from getting a simple paper bag, and then depositing the various fruits into it, one after another. It's only, when she's done, she doesn't immediately come over but instead stays a few steps away from the cover.

Right - this is a business transaction and he is in a suspicious position. Balancing carefully on the ladder - something helped by Rosso's pressure in the enclosed space - Sephiroth reaches down and holds up his wallet. "How much?"

"Five gil per fruit."

So thirty. That much is simple to pull out, and the transaction goes smoothy enough... up until she holds out a pen and a small business card.

Guertena Delivery is written on it, in a pretty cursive sort of style that doesn't match what Sephiroth normally sees in ShinRa, and the borders are decorated with different colored roses. He stares down at it, and then up at the girl. "...A signature?" She nods. Very well. He can do that much, giving it to her once he's done. It feels as though he's doing a bit of that outside of his normal events for such things... Although that name sounds familiar. "Can I have a business card for myself?"

"What are you going to do with such a thing?" Rosso asks him when they duck back down into the sewer systems, going for another exit that will hopefully lead them to somewhere a little more secluded.

"Lazard said that we should have someone else get things that we want instead of making public appearances ourselves," Sephiroth says simply, making sure that the coast is clear before he accepts the bag of fruit from Rosso and lets her pull herself up. "I would rather... not rely too much on anyone else in ShinRa. But the delivery driver who took my couch seemed to be as reliable as any other choice, so it will be good to have their number on hand."

If nothing else, he had seemed like a simple fanboy... And that is honestly preferable to deal with than having a Turk handle the groceries they might wish to get.

Not that it's good news to Rosso, judging by the way she sighs while both of them scale a tall building together to get away from Midgar's bustle and any prying eyes. "Ah, and so we will not get a chance to go about on a day like yesterday... A pity, and yet I knew that the chain would tighten eventually sooner than later."

Heaving himself up onto a rooftop that has a lovely view of the plaza, Sephiroth looks over to her. It's true... For both of them, they would have been told off sooner than later, exactly as she's said. Even still - "Where would you go, if you didn't have the leash?"

Rosso pauses, already having rustled through the bag a little bit to properly inspect this new food. "Where I would go," she echoes, rolling an apple in her palm. "I suppose anywhere I had not been in before." Sephiroth holds his own hand out, and she finally seems to recall that there's other food in here in pairs, and that he may want some for himself. She hands it over before shrugging, a bitter little smile accompanying the action. "Just what more can you fit in an entire city? We have found the place where one fills their home, along with so many useless accompaniments, and then there are places where one buys food... I suppose there is a place where one would buy clothes as well?"

"There are, although I have not visited them often myself." His clothing was standard issue SOLDIER uniform at first, and then personally tailored for him when it became clear how much success he would bring. Things that would make him stand out, whether in public or on the battlefield. Maybe... "Would you want to choose clothing for yourself?"

Just like he was encouraged to choose clothing for himself... Given something by Angeal and Genesis. It's only been a couple of days since he saw them, but how are they doing now? Was Genesis able to retrieve the communication devices well enough? Will Angeal continue to send him things, or is this the last he'll taste of his cooking? And that's not even talking about Gillian...

Gillian. The first person in his entire life... to apologize for how his life turned out.

It has to be something that Rosso has been pondering herself, because there's no hesitation in her response. "It would be interesting to see just what could be offered to me... And yet all of it is so simple, and thin."

He understands what she means. "I thought similar, to a degree, when they first sent me out from the labs," he says, recalling how they had immediately put him into SOLDIER armor. "Especially when I caught wind of the sort of monsters that could still thrive even in a city such as Midgar. And yet... it is an industry that seems to thrive. To look exactly as one wishes to look... I think that's something that would normally be far outside our reach. But for them... They have the freedom to do exactly that."

Rosso scrapes one nail down along fruit skin, peeling it and pausing from the surprise before she scrapes it off. "Hmph, the freedom to dress in such a manner..." But he can tell that there's some appeal in it, to her.

For all that he has no idea how he would dress if he had a choice in it, Sephiroth has to admit... It's the same for him. Or maybe it's just the idea of having that kind of freedom which truly appeals, and the actual idea of clothing is but a secondary matter. "What would you do, then?" he asks suddenly. "If you could have control over your appearance... What would you do?"

"Me?" Rosso blinks at him before she turns her gaze back down towards the streets, where dozens and dozens of people go about their daily lives. "Hm... Perhaps... I would grow longer hair."

That isn't an answer that he was expecting, and Sephiroth tilts his head to the side. "Does it matter if it's long?"

"Probably it would be better for something like me if it were not!" Rosso laughs, picking up the peeled apple skin she has now. Just a tiny little thing, barely enough to start its curl. "And yet I have wondered what it would be like to have it. Our Weiss has quite the mane himself, and none are able to approach him to shear it short." She pops the skin into her mouth, chewing on it thoughtfully.

Another curious sound, although Sephiroth wonders if it is overstepping to imagine that it is not nearly as filled with emotion as the night before. Either way, it allows him a moment to look over her own person - the uniform with its faintly glowing lines, the boots, and the way her hair falls just shy of her shoulders. He wouldn't have said it was short, when his understanding of short is something shaved closer to the scalp... but he understands what she means. "I have a hard time believing that others could approach you with a pair of scissors, even with their leash on you."

Her smile is flashed towards him, relaxed and pleased - more from the apple skin or the compliment, it's hard for him to tell. "And yet the burn of materia and the slice of blades does not lend well to combat," she teases.

"Then.... You would have to stop fighting in order to have hair that is long." The look she gives him is enough to make him smile now, and he tries his best to hide it by pulling out an apple of his own to bite. "I see that is displeasing to you."

"To sheathe a weapon, what nonsense," Rosso huffs. "And to take away all my pleasure in the world! And to think that I thought you too mild in your disposition to be a sadist."

It's true that he isn't entirely sure he takes such pleasure as she does, in the bloodshed which comes with combat, even if there is a sense of freedom in being able to swing Masamune in as wide an arc as he likes. Perhaps he should take it as a compliment, for all that he has to hide his smile. For now... "Besides my lack of sadism, what do you think of the fruit, then? Have you only tried the apple?"

"If you were not busy distracting me, perhaps I would have had the time to try more, my dear." But the apple seems to have wet her appetite, and it doesn't take long before she's making a proper go at all three - first with the same kind of sharp and violent bites with which she'd had her chicken, before lowering her intensity to some degree when all that does is waste the precious juices of the soft fruits. "Tch - truly what a mess they make!"

In the time it takes for her to bulldoze through the fruits Sephiroth is still working on his third one, and he considers her habits. "Then you preferred the chicken from last night... Although that was just as messy."

"Hardly as messy.... although it delighted me, it is true, and I shall not deny that." With all the flesh of the apple now ride of, she tosses it carelessly across the street, without any consideration for who it might hit on the long way down. "...Will you make that again tonight?"

Sephiroth goes through his memories of the groceries that they had put away into the cupboards, and the fridge. Even with their levels of strength, the carrying capacity for their arms simply couldn't keep up when it came to groceries. Combine that with the fact that they had both admittedly gone after whatever had caught their eye first and he is ashamed to admit, in hindsight, that there is no rhyme or reason to what is in his cupboards right now.

"We do not have anymore chicken, and that is the only recipe that I know," he admits after a moment. "I would have to look into others..." Although, now that he thinks about it - there are other things filling his kitchen which he and Rosso did not buy. "But there is the food that was delivered last night. We will need to eat more of it to make room for any new groceries besides."

And.... he could tell that Rosso truly did delight in the food that he had made for her. The sounds of delight that had accompanied that first bite, her eyes shining from the simple pleasure of a good meal, even when she had tried to pluck another piece from his own plate. The dish, of course, wasn't as good as Angeal's, and that is just the thing. If she liked even his paltry imitation of Angeal's cooking, then, surely, she will like the genuine article, of which Angeal has provided many examples.

Apparently the only issue is going to be getting her to try new things at all, with the way her mouth wrinkles in distaste. "Hmph... Well, I suppose there is no harm in it, is there? If it is food that you deigned to keep over what you were sent by the Science Department, then it must not be too detestable to put into my mouth."

"It was the same food that you were eating without complaint not long ago as well..."

Rosso ignores him, to his amusement, and forges onwards. "Yet after we have cleared room in your kitchen, I expect we shall get more of that food. You have already made the arrangements for us to have someone who can fetch it for us from that store, yes? So there should be no trouble."

"I suppose," Sephiroth agrees, smiling perhaps just a little bit as he tucks away his own apple core and the peach pit and everything else into the bag. If he threw it like Rosso does, so carelessly, then he might break something, and he's already caused Lazard some unexpected trouble as it is. "Although does that mean you don't want to try the other things that we bought? I only know the one recipe, but... Perhaps we can learn more." There are books on this subject matter, aren't they? Angeal, certainly, had seemed to know a lot of things off of the top of his head.

Wiping her hands clean on her bodysuit, Rosso considers that. "....I suppose," she drawls, as though she didn't so eagerly fill bags of groceries that filled her arms. "Well, I will expect to be impressed upon your skills once again." And there's that smile again. "Just like I will expect a bit of a challenge when we go back to your headquarters and fight once more."

Sephiroth smiles right back. "I think... I can give you more than only a bit of a challenge."





And that is his life. For a short little week or so, that is his life.





He likes the way that he and Rosso go on their daily missions, taking advantage of the loose requirements that often accompany such things to dally about in a way that he's never been able to before. In a way that he's never had reason to do before.

Rosso is what makes it interesting, what gives him a reason to linger when he doesn't have to. She makes challenges for him to overcome when the mission is otherwise dull and unremarkable, teases him over the way he wields Masamune, sometimes even attacks him when the job feels just a little bit too easy.

"You should do it while blindfolded, my dear."

"Only if you try it in the same manner."

None of the others in SOLDIER would ever approach him so brazenly, whenever he was sent off on missions. He had always found that to be for the better, the first time he watched them fall around him, like shattered glass containing a human life. So it was fine, wasn't it, if he stood isolated from the others, and could only listen to their little conversations at a distance, never truly being a part of it all.

But Rosso - just like Genesis, just like Angeal - she doesn't seem to care about that kind of thing at all. Is it because she is also a part of whatever strange project is going on within ShinRa? Or would she always be like this, casting a sharp smirk towards him, the blindfold ripping from her eyes so carelessly. "There - just like that," she purrs, burning in triumph as she strides across the empty lot down here in the slums. Well, empty after they cleared it out to lay a bit of bait so that the different monsters could come to them instead of bothering to hunt them all down. "And here you doubted me, when I said I would do so well while blindfolded."

"I never said that I doubted you," Sephiroth counters, leaning down to look over one of the Whole Eater's corpses. He has to admit that, while being blindfolded had been a bit awkward for him even if only for a brief second, Rosso really did seem to do well right of the bat. Something that they have to go through in Deepground? Or simply a sign of quickly adjusting?

Either way, Rosso just smirks at him. She always smirks, so confident in herself, even when it seems as though she's against odds she can't possibly win.... whether that's in a fight against him, or refusing to bow her head to ShinRa.

"Good. You never should."





He likes the way that they end their days, every single time, no matter the mission, no matter what Lazard has to brief them on in meetings that fairly quickly have less to do with the Restrictor or Lazard and only him. No matter the mission. No matter whatever else happens in that day.

They figure out their meals together, there in that little kitchen.

Angeal could not have foreseen that he would be sending food to two people instead of just one, although he still sent quite a bit of food with that in mind. And, as it turns out... Going out every day, sparring every day, all the things that he and Rosso get up to, means that their appetites are actually worked up a fair amount by the time that the sun sets and evening drapes itself over Midgar. They eat more of the food that Angeal sent over than Sephiroth was expecting and, well... Needless to say, there's more then enough room in their fridge for anything else they might want to make.

It's something that Sephiroth brings up to Lazard on the third day or so, once they've returned with their assignment completed. "...And so that is the state of my kitchen," he says, reciting it all as though it were just one more mission. He's not particularly sure how else he could phrase it all. "So... Do you know what things we could possibly make with those things?"

Lazard clearly knew that they went shopping once - apparently it's all in the newspapers and gossip magazines? Something about the Silver Soldier and the Crimson Vixen.... Sephiroth isn't entirely sure, he doesn't glance at those very often, although he knows that Lazard does. Yet somehow, being reminded of the actual physical consequences of such an outing has him pinching the bridge of his nose before he sighs.

"While it seems that you managed surprisingly well with your first attempt... Sephiroth, I would recommend that the two of you stick to takeout first, instead. Here-"

Twisting around in his seat, Lazard pulls open one drawer from some filing cabinets, and retrieves what appears to be an entire folder filled with nothing but takeout pamphlets and menus. He hands it over to Sephiroth, who promptly flips it open while Rosso peers over at it with unabashed interest. Sephiroth has to admit that there is no small amount to choose from.

That does, however, have him wonder something, and he slowly turns the page on one of the pamphlets. "Lazard... Do you not do very much home cooking yourself...?"

Lazard flashes him one of his incredibly fake smiles that he usually reserves for ShinRa executives. "I believe you and Rosso should get your training done for the day instead of asking about my personal diet, Sephiroth."

Turning her head to the side, one hand raised to her mouth, Rosso doesn't even attempt to fake a whisper. "So it seems he is incapable of cooking, no?"

"Rosso the Crimson, please leave my office."

Fortunately, Secretary Micah seems to have a little bit more to offer them in terms of suggestions, and even writing down a recipe for them to try that is easy enough to manage with just one call to the Guertena Delivery Service. A simple thing involving a large chunk of meat that Rosso bought with his money the other day, and which they work on together.

Granted, it's a good thing he works together with her there in the kitchen, because it means that when Rosso starts to slice towards the meat, he can grab her wrist immediately before she slices right through the counter.

"You will break my kitchen," he says, her wrist trembling with all the bottled up energy straining against his grip.

"You can get a new kitchen," she says dismissively.

Probably he could. "I like this one," Sephiroth deadpans. "And besides... You could hurt yourself with the way that you wield a blade so violently." That is all well and fine, when she is going up against monsters in sewers or down in the slums, but, in the kitchen of his apartment, there are only so many other places that her tendency for excess violence can go.

As during many moments with Rosso, his words have her laugh, and she steps away, yanking her wrist out of his grip. In one swift movement, she raises the knife again - but doesn't slam it down against the counter. It slices through the palm of her hand, a cut that goes strong, threatens at least an inch deep. If it hurts, Rosso shows no signs of it. All she does is spread her fingers out wide, blood pouring down her palm and along her wrist. Yet, even as he watches, the initial pour seems to ebb, slow, stop entirely while flesh pulls itself back together over the course of but a couple of minutes. "Does it matter, even if I were to sever a finger?"

His own body heals much quicker than that.... But he can understand what she means. What point she aims to make with this.

Yet somehow, his stomach does something unpleasant, having seen her flesh torn though like that.

"Even so." He holds out his hand. "Give me the knife and select a new one. I don't want to taste your blood in with the meat when it's cooked."

Rosso jabs him in the stomach with the hilt of it before going along with what he's asked. "Such a delicate constitution!" she teases, walking over without being asked to clean her hand of the blood first. At least she has that much consideration for sanitation... although he has to admit that he has likely played a part in that, with all the times he's reminded her to take a shower. He just can't stand the idea of too much filth in his own living space.

And speaking of filth...

His eyes fall on the knife in hand, still slick with Rosso's blood all along its edge. He puts it to the side, and lets it lay there, forgotten by both of them, for the longest time.

It is only when Rosso is not looking does he seal it away in a small bag... and tuck it away. Hidden.





He likes it when they spar together, too.

There isn't even a time that Sephiroth could say he sparred properly with another person, from the day that he first joined SOLDIER. There was the time that Lazard introduced him, of course... but Sephiroth isn't even entirely sure if that could be considered a proper spar. In the end, what it truly ended up being was him learning how to fight by observing the senior member of the department he was aiming to join... and from there, never again. Everything he's learned to do, he's learned on the battlefield, or the occasional simulation that Lazard prepared specifically for him.

But who would dare to go against the General who has lead to so many victories in Wutai? The esteemed prodigy that has surpassed so many even at his young age?

Rosso the Crimson, apparently, who goes right for him without an ounce of hesitation.

It doesn't matter how many times he sends her flying across the entirety of the simulation, how many of her bullets he slices through. Even at his best to handle her delicately, like he has so many SOLDIERs in training, all amounts to naught and is met with only more aggression, more tactics, more storms of bullets sent his way.

And it can't be said that Rosso doesn't learn, either, although her speed and strength still has a ways to go before it can match up against his own. If one tactic doesn't work, then she tries another. If it still doesn't, then she mixes up what her strategies look like. And sometimes, just when he thinks she's trying to be clever, she bull rushes straight ahead with a slash towards his jugular.

He always blocks, of course, or dodges, but... he can appreciate the way she mixes things up, and tries to catch him off guard. He appreciates the way that she never stops trying, and how she claws herself ever closer to where she wants to be.

Granted, that may very well be standing over his mangled corpse, but Sephiroth doesn't mind that idea, honestly.

A swing of her blades, the tip digging into the false dirt beneath their feet, and she follows the momentum, twists her body, tries to slam one of her boots down onto his skull from where he's moved. A normal person, raising their arm to block it, would probably find their radius or ulna broken - both at once, maybe. Not him. Instead, he moves to smack her away, only for her to latch onto him, clawed gauntlets digging in tight. It tears right through his sleeves, into his skin, long red marks that clean up almost as soon as they shed blood. He has to slam her down against the ground, just to make her loosen up a little bit, and all that really manages is that it becomes harder for her to grab or kick onto him in other inventive ways.

Rosso the Crimson certainly doesn't let go of something once she decides to latch on... He can say that much.

She wakes up eventually.... after he had to suffocate her to make her let go, and maybe suffered a bruised rib from her thrashing. "So I will have to be in a better position for that," she says, stretching her arms up before her from where she lays there on the ground still. There's not even a roughness to her voice that betrays what happened to her. Sephiroth... feels more than a little relief at that, truth be told. "Hmph. Well, for the next time, hm?"

"For the next time," Sephiroth says, even if, for every day, he doesn't know if they will get a next time. Either way, he's content for the two of them to catch their breath just sitting there, his forearms resting against propped up knees.

He's thinking that she might start musing aloud about his techniques, or fantasizing about how it will feel to finally get one on him - things that Rosso has done before, at the end of their sessions thus far. Yet when she finally folds her hands behind her head, not caring how her claws tangle in those red strands, she asks something unexpected. "You never said what you would want to look like, if you could so choose."

Sephiroth blinks. "You are still thinking on that?" he asks. "I had never considered it before..." After all, it never seemed to be something that would be in his hands. ShinRa would never allow him that, with how important his image is to their efforts.

So.... What would he do, if the choice was left up to him?

It's hard for him to say, even with his mind trying to focus on the problem. What colors does he like? What clothing does he prefer? It's never mattered; he doesn't know. If he could be free on the morrow, would he even make an attempt to change anything, or simply go along with everything that others had already put him in before?

Rosso allows him to struggle for a few moments, no doubt enjoying the look on his face as he works through the conundrum in his mind, before she laughs. "You would think I had proposed a math problem that not even the greats could solve," she teases, before she kicks one leg over the other. "Think little of it then. We shall both grow out our hair together, if you cannot think for your own."

In truth... He knows that some of ShinRa's PR department has already considering encouraging the growth of his hair. Something to make him all the more striking, a figure that anyone can recognize at a distance. That it even falls to his chin alone is sign enough of that, or else he supposes it would just be cut short for easier maintenance. At least, he thinks it would be easier maintenance. So this isn't a particularly new idea to him...

So why does it feel nice, to think of doing this together with Rosso? To look forward to a day where both of them can look at one another, and find their hair having grown so long in sync?

Maybe... It is far from the worst choice he could make.

Around them, the simulation shivers and disperses, leaving them right back into the cold metal of the training room as it really is. At the same time, the metal doors leading into it slide open, and there stands Lazard. "I see that the two of you have been keeping each other in top form even despite the missions that we have been giving you," he comments, striding over to them, his sharp dress shoes clicking against the metal paneling. "That's good. I do understand, after all, that these missions are far below your caliber."

"And yet we get nothing of interest," Rosso drawls, narrowing her eyes in a displeased glare.

All Lazard can do is shrug. "Unfortunately, my hands are tied in regards to how ShinRa and Deepground want to keep both of you kept close at hand," he says. "Although you will both be glad to hear that it seems as though the Turks are having issues of their own, and a little bit more leniency is being given to SOLDIER as a consequence of that."

Issues... Lazard brought up that there was something going on over in the Turks before, didn't he? "Are their problems anything that will affect our department?" he asks. If there is anyone who would be keeping an eye on what the Turks are doing, then surely it would be Lazard.

For just a brief moment, Lazard's eyes seem to darken, but then he shakes his head. "You do not have to worry. From what I understand, the... vice president is involved in it all as well, so I am sure that matters will get resolved in due time. More importantly, this does mean that I will be able to send you on a few missions on the outskirts of the city. It seems that you both have made a good enough partnership for this to be possible, so find some content in that."

Sephiroth nods. So they'll be able to go outside of Midgar... At least they will be able to find larger opponents to fight. Rosso should be glad for that; slicing through Whole Eaters doesn't seem to give her any particular satisfaction. "We will live up to your expectations, Director." Rosso doesn't say anything, just looking away, still laying there on the ground.

If it were any other Third or Second class SOLDIER, Lazard would raise an eyebrow at such disrespect... but thankfully, Sephiroth is glad to see that he's been rather patient with her. There's no offense on his face as he reaches into his suit jacket. "I trust that you will. In addition, I received additional good news that is relevant to you, Miss Rosso. It took some small effort, but I was able to rearrange some financial funds in regards to Deepground, and can now give you this." From his jacket, he pulls out a thick paper envelope, and holds it out to her.

Being directly spoken to finally gets Rosso's attention, and she pulls her fingers out from her hair, frowning a little that she's being given something. "And just what may this be?" she asks, accepting the envelope as she pushes herself up.

Of course, she's already opening it even before she's finished her question, staring with bewildered and wide eyes at the money she pulls out. "Payment for services rendered, of course," Lazard tells her, and there's a faint little smirk on his face as he enjoys the look on her face. "It wasn't easy, with how isolated Deepground is, but I managed to find out that they have forgotten to pass your payment along to you, as someone who is doing work for ShinRa." Just by his tone, it's clear he knows Deepground forgot nothing... That this was on purpose. "However... work done deserves compensation. So I made sure to get your pay, Miss Rosso."

Can she even hear him talking? With the way that she's staring at the gil now in her hand - not even all of it removed from the envelope - it's hard to say. She grinds her finger along it, for a moment. "...And what do you get out of this?" she asks after a moment, brow pulling together.

"As I said, nothing." And there's - a moment. Where his voice seems to shift, and his gaze lowers just a little. "We should all have the money necessary to take care of ourselves." The moment is gone, then, and Lazard shakes his head as though pulling free from it. With a smirk, he crosses his arms and raises one curled hand to his chin. "Of course, if that bothers you, then you are more than free to consider it a bribe for taking care of Sephiroth so well."

"Ha." Rosso smirks right back, before sliding the gil right back into its envelope. "A reward, then. I can accept such a thing."

"We should get you a wallet," Sephiroth says immediately, thinking on the practical. "I can get it... as a congratulations gift." A celebration... of the fact that Rosso has the first thing that is truly hers.

Proof of being a person.

Rosso jabs him in the ribs, although this time it's not with the intent to shatter them completely. "Hmph. And to say that to a woman who can afford her own things, is that the kind of man you are?" It's clear that she's not saying it with any serious intent, however. Not with the way that her thumb is rubbing along the envelope, still thoughtful and almost as if to convince herself it is still real.

Before they can both leave the training room, however, Lazard places a hand to Sephiroth's arm as he passes by. "That reminds me, Sephiroth. It shouldn't be too much trouble, but our offices are somewhat overworked right now. Looking into just this one thing would be nice to have off our plate."

"Of course, Director."

What the slip of paper reveals, however, when he unfolds it.... is a simple thing. A date. A time. It needs say nothing more than that for Sephiroth to understand what it means.

In only a few days, Gillian and the others will be ready.





He likes this life that he's managed to stumble into in just under a week, and a part of Sephiroth doesn't know how to deal with it all.

"Is even this much not enough for you?" Rosso asks when they're sent to clear out some problematic pests around the Midgar area, dust kicking up after her heels as she leaves her latest prey - one of the Devil Rides which has been scavenging scrap and making itself a pest in the process. "Well - it is hardly enough for me, either, so I cannot judge, although the chase is at least thrilling.... not that you seem to have cared much for that, either."

The chase? Ah, yes - how Devil Rides are so prone to speeding off, trying to do circles around their targets or sliding into them with the full force of their wheels. He really hasn't paid attention, so he can't say anything against that. "Was it obvious, then?" he asks.

Rosso shrugs, her hands going easily to the side. "There is only efficiency in your swings. Beautiful, I suppose, but uninteresting."

There aren't a lot of people who would call his method of fighting beautiful, nor uninteresting. Then again, Rosso not being like most people is part of why he has grown so fond of her - similar in why he supposes he has liked Angeal and Genesis, for how short their time together was. "I was thinking of things," he says, which isn't false. "We are getting closer to the end of the week... and it seems as though there have still been no leads on the ones that attacked ShinRa headquarters. So... I was thinking of the future."

"Ah, the future... A silly and worthless thing." Rosso shakes her head, hands falling to her sides. "You truly do fuss. Well, it is in your nature, for someone who controls his kitchen just so."

"I do not control my kitchen."

"You refuse to let it rest even for a single hour before insisting that we clean it."

"Kitchens are supposed to be clean."

...There is perhaps a brief few minutes - or half an hour - where they get somewhat sidetracked into an unusually intense discussion about what the proper level of cleanliness is for a kitchen, and how neither of them truly have any experience in a normal person's kitchen, and why one should not just be allowed to microwave a bowl of blood.

Eventually, Rosso sweeps her claws through the air impatiently. "Really, if only you were so stubborn in other matters than this one... Then very well." She cocks her head to the side, and smiles that dry and dangerous smile of hers where it betrays that she is five seconds away for lunging for his throat. "Then we shall say you control nothing in that kitchen at all. But why bother in thinking so deeply on the future? It is nothing that a weapon need think of."

No. For 'weapons', they don't need to think of the future. All they need to do is be on standby, to wait for whatever missions may come their way, to do them perfectly and without fault. That is what weapons need do.

...But what of "Sephiroth"? What of "Rosso"? Are they not allowed to think about the future?

These are the sort of thoughts which have been plaguing him more and more, ever since he first saw three wings spreading out there against the shimmering darkness of the city... And he doesn't want to be alone with them.

He doesn't express any of these thoughts in words. Instead, he says, "Do you want to battle out here?"

In the training room, they have to hold back - or, at least, he has to hold back, so that the room isn't damaged. While ShinRa does have a lot of money, they would still rather not waste it all on continuous repairs to the training room. That's what he was informed, at any rate... and he's never truly wanted to hurt Rosso, which is all the more reason to hold back.

But out here, in the wide desolate and dead desert which surrounds all of Midgar... Perhaps, just this once, he can go a little harder than normal.

The idea certainly seems to excite Rosso, at any rate, her eyes lighting up and her weapon already back in her hands. Certainly she wastes no time in getting prepared. "Then, I shall expect you to go all out and let me receive all of you," she purrs, using that particular teasing tone of hers that he can't quite decipher.

He doesn't go all out. That would be wholly unnecessary, and probably draw too much attention to them than ShinRa would necessarily like.

They do leave an enormous gash in the earth the length of a city block, and a small crater, in the earth instead.

He isn't entirely sure if that's enough to truly satisfy Rosso, with the way that she is, but it's enough for at least today, and the two of them return back to the gates leading into Midgar and more directly its slums side by side. He's not expecting anything, honestly, as the smaller gates leading in take their time in going through the procedures - the identification, the checks to make sure nothing ends up smuggled in or out, and just the sheer slowness of the machinery with how it's connected to the overall larger gate that allows vehicles through.

No one ever said that Midgar was built particularly smartly, really... And not even ShinRa headquarters is that much different. Sephiroth wishes that he could find an explanation for why one of the floors recently seems to have a complicated puzzle attached to finding a spare keycard that lets people up further, but it's evaded him thus far.

Of course, it's exactly as the two of them are making their way along the paths back to the train station, past towers of rust and obsolescence, that they're approached by someone.

Two someones, as a matter of fact, one of them holding a camera in her hands while the man has a notebook in his. Sephiroth can't recognize them right away... but there's no doubt that they were waiting for him and Rosso, considering how they perk up and head straight for them. Still remembering some of the incidents that happened the first time Rosso was out in public with him, Sephiroth carefully positions himself between her and the pair. At least for right now, perhaps as a consequence of being sated from stepping out from Midgar and having a proper fight, Rosso appears content with that arrangement. All she does is press against his arm, peering with the kind of lazy interest a large predator has while sunbathing with no intent to move.

The woman with the camera takes a picture of this. Sephiroth suddenly has an unfortunate idea of just what these two are here for.

"Excuse us, General Sephiroth, sir," says the man, nodding to him with at least some measure of politeness. "We're with the paper, Midgar Speaks, and we were hoping for a moment of your time, if you could potentially spare it for us - and your companion as well, of course."

Once upon a time, Lazard drilled it into his head just what he should say in encounters such as these. Sephiroth has rarely gotten a chance to use those words, with how rigidly he's followed his life following ShinRa's rules... but he's never forgotten. "All inquiries into official ShinRa operations or interview arrangements should be made to SOLDIER's official channels," he recites, his voice plain and unemotional. "My apologies."

He suspects that the pair have already tried to do so and have been turned away for one reason or another, considering the awkward way the man's smile sticks onto his face for a split second. "I understand that your usual interviews are usually planned far ahead in advance, but it appears that your schedule is incredibly busy," he tries again. "This would only involve a few quick and simple questions, in order to not interfere with that. From what we understand, the train is also meant to only go or stay at your discretion, so this much should be alright, don't you think?"

Honestly... This all sounds as though it's going to be all a big and frustrating problem. Doesn't Lazard instruct him not to speak to people unnecessarily unless he truly has to? And he really doesn't think he has to here...

Before he can refuse again, however, well - he may be in the way of Rosso causing any civilian injury, but that doesn't mean he's in the way of her voice. "And just what would those simple questions be?" she purrs, her claws lightly digging into his arm from where he's holding her back. He doesn't think others know how much that is, when only looking at it. "If they were merely simple questions, one would think you need only make a little call, and even a mere secretary could answer them... Besides you running about, so desperate to ambush us like mice with delusions of grandeur."

Hm. Maybe he should have stopped her mouth. Rosso has a way with words, much like she has a way with a blade.

He watches as the paparazzi's mouth twitches stiffly, not expecting quite that comparison no doubt. "Well... They are questions that sometimes are best answered by the most relevant people," he tries. "For example, could we have the pleasure of knowing your name, Miss? SOLDIER has been rather reluctant to give us that information, you see."

Sephiroth wonders how much of that is true. With Rosso's existence now common knowledge, he can't see any reason why Rosso's name of all things wouldn't be told.

He'd wonder if she's under any orders to stay quiet herself... but she tosses aside that worry fairly quickly, cocking her head to the side with a little smirk. "I am Rosso the Crimson... a name that they would have gladly given to you, and yet it seems your mouth is so slick that I would perhaps have trouble keeping my blade from sliding across it."

The air goes very and awkwardly still as the threat hangs there in it.

"Rosso," he says mildly.

"What? I bestowed upon him a compliment. Truly, he should be on his knees, thanking me for the pleasure."

Maybe he's trying to suck up to her. Maybe he's scared of her actually carrying through with the threats. Either way, the man wavers, but doesn't run away. "I... I thank you very much for such consideration, Miss Rosso. Truly, your name seems to fit you perfectly! Then, if we could ask you just one more question - I am sure you must be very busy!" Is that an excuse? Sephiroth thinks it might. "Just what is your relationship with our famed General Sephiroth here?"

So it's just something like that? He can't see why anyone at SOLDIER would refuse to answer that kind of question either. Even Rosso should be able to answer it simply. This really does seem like a waste of time.

She must be thinking the same, her sharp eyes looking over them thoughtfully, before she smirks. Just a slight shift of her weight, and she's resting her head along his arm, her hair mussing up from the motion. "Now, what a ridiculous question," she says in that relaxed drawl of hers, so confident in what she's saying. Teasing, even, he thinks. "I thought such a thing would be clear, even from a distance." She lightly drags the set of one claws down along his arm. "We are partners."

Oh. He thought she would say something different, with the way that she was acting up. But that is just a factual statement, honestly. So he nods along with it, agreeing without having to waste so much as a breath on it.

Yet with the way that the man is gawking at them as though they've said something surprising.... Something is going over his head now, isn't it? "I see!" he finally manages, and Sephiroth can already tell that he has even more annoying things to say right there on the tip of his tongue.

There's only one way to handle this. "Director Lazard is expecting the two of us," he says abruptly. "We need to go." And with that, he bulldozes straight past, fortunately helped by the way that Rosso is still holding onto his arm... and how she seems satisfied with whatever mischief that she has caused already.

At least, it doesn't take them very long for him to find out just what exactly she's done, with Lazard already writing Cease And Desist letters when they step into his office. "Miss Rosso, can I ask you to please stop making people think that you and Sephiroth are romantically involved?" he asks, pinching the bridge of his nose underneath his glasses. "I understand that Deepground doesn't often interact with much of ShinRa's PR matters, at least from what I've been able to tell, but causing such a ruckus means that I have to handle a great deal of work."

So that's the kind of partner that she meant. Sephiroth raises an eyebrow down at her. "I had no idea that you held such romantic feelings for me," he deadpans.

Raising one clawed hand, Rosso laughs at him from behind it. "I was wondering how long it would take for you to realize that I was saying such things..." Wait, she's using plural. Is she talking about how she's done this multiple times? "Sparing that rotten little thing's life was worth it, in the end. I suppose maybe I should be thankful." She crosses her arm, head cocked. "Although romance... Certainly that is a new word. I was thinking merely in terms of sex."

Over at his desk, Lazard makes a peculiar little wheezing noise. All Sephiroth does is blink. "Oh. I see." If it's something like that... Well, he still doesn't entirely understand, but at least this makes a bit more sense. He narrows his eyes slightly. "Is this why you've stayed close to me when we've been in public...?"

"Let us move past it," Lazard interrupts, shaking his head. "And allow me to simply request, Miss Rosso, to please not play such games when you are out in public with Sephiroth. Deepground is proving to be rather useless in handling matters outside of their department, so I've had little luck in getting them to focus on such affairs.... although it has proven far harder for them to ignore all the paperwork that I have sent their way." He reaches for his coffee mug, only to look into it with a wrinkle of his nose.

Sephiroth doesn't think twice on the matter. He merely moves over to the small table that Lazard keeps near him at all times, and the coffee pot which waits there. He knows exactly how Lazard likes it, too, outside of the fancy to-go cafes that seem to thrive around ShinRa headquarters especially. The right amount of sugar, the right amount of creamer. Lazard isn't a man who takes his coffee black.

And of course, used to this routine, Lazard accepts it without a second thought, murmuring his thanks as he shuffles through the various papers on his desk. Things from Deepground, things to do with SOLDIER's PR.... His work is never done with.

It seems as though there's less work on his desk than usual, however... All the things he's sent to Deepground and Hollander, perhaps?

No longer attached to his side now that they're not in public where she can annoy others with her proximity to him, Rosso watches all of this with a peculiar look in her eyes. Sephiroth doesn't quite understand it. Not until she says, "Oh~. Is this a form of incest, then?"

Lazard chokes on his coffee, just barely managing to turn away from his desk and spit it out onto the floor instead of all over his computer. "Incest?" Sephiroth asks, puzzled, even as he grabs some napkins from the table. Lazard seems as though he needs all the help that he can get. "That would require us being related by blood. I don't understand."

"Does it, now...?"

Dabbing at his mouth and along his pant legs, Lazard takes in a ragged breath. "Just what were you thinking, using that kind of word in relation to us?" he manages to wheeze out.

Crossing her arms, Rosso shifts the weight of herself from one leg to the next. Sephiroth almost wonders if she'll even answer, with how she can be, but her words come sooner than he thought the would. "There are not many others who could truly call themselves Tsviets in Deepground... There are many who dream of becoming better than what they are, and yet, how could they ever be more than fodder?" Her smirk is a little bit empty, her shrug sharp. "And yet, despite this, there are a few others. That way you both acted just now, one trotting about to so eagerly fulfill the wishes of the other without a word being said... How could it not remind me of them?"

Lazard's breathing evens out a little bit more. "And that word is connected to the two of them?"

"Certainly, it was one that I heard used when speaking of the pair, from the worthless filth that hold our reins."

Sephiroth isn't entirely sure he understands the implications that are at play here.... Or if Rosso is necessarily telling a factual statement uncolored by her own biases or lack of experience with the rest of the world. This is a woman, after all, who just accused two unrelated people of engaging in incest because Sephiroth was helping him get another mug of coffee. Still, at any rate, it seems to be enough of an answer for Lazard, who shakes his head. "Well, as Sephiroth said, it is something which often requires a blood relation to be called incest, and certain actions as well." Folding up the napkin and setting it to the side, he raises an eyebrow in exasperation. "It would make my job so much easier if you could avoid using language like that, Miss Rosso.... I have simply known Sephiroth for a long time. That is all."

That is all... Is it? Sephiroth holds back from frowning just a little bit. It would be safer for both him and Lazard, he knows, if they present their relationship to the rest of the world as nothing more than a professional thing. And yet... It feels a shame to still say that to someone he's grown to like, even if he knows her connection to Deepground means that it's all the more reason that they should say it.

Is this why some people find lying to be so distasteful? He isn't even the one doing it right now, not really...

"At any rate... Well, we can discuss this matter at a later date, Miss Rosso." Lazard looks back towards his computer, clicking on a few things. "It appears that... Deepground would like you to return to them as soon as possible, now that you've checked in with Sephiroth. Apparently there are some matters that they would like to go over with you." His lips thin. "I was able to pry from their reluctant teeth that they will be going over your equipment before Deepground and SOLDIER begin pressing forward in earnest our own search for the assailants from a near week ago."

His expression says he doubts that will be all.... and Rosso's mocking laugh only confirms that. "Oh, to update equipment, is it?" she drawls, before she shakes her head. "Well. If they demand their weapon to be sheathed, so be it."

Lazard's frown only deepens, as does Sephiroth's. So... He once again has to be thankful to his director for speaking up to him. "Sephiroth, could you escort her back to the main building? They said that they would send a Restrictor to pick Miss Rosso up if she waited here, but it seems to be a waste. I am sure you know the most ideal route back."

Words can mean a lot of things, even though they should all have a strict dictionary definition attached. Sephiroth used to think it was simple as that, really - following the black and white definition of something as it was read in a book.

And yet, what a dictionary does not take into account is something very simple.

Sephiroth has learned that there are other definitions. Personal, subjective, and self-serving.

Perhaps it would be ideal for Deepground if he went straight to them, and dropped Rosso off with little fuss. Instead, however, he takes the far longer route - detours the long way around SOLDIER, a separate entrance into the main building, going up some of the floors via an elevator. "Lazard only said that you were to come to the main building," he deadpans, when Rosso stares at him. "We can't be sure where in the main building that we are to meet them, so we should check every floor to ensure we do not miss them."

Well... At least Rosso's laughter fills the entire massive elevator, all the way until they reach the higher floors.

If nothing else, it is an interesting diversion as well. He rarely visits anything here in the rest of ShinRa, not ever since Lazard first pulled him out from the labs and raced past everything in order to have him happily sign his life away to SOLDIER instead of Hojo and the scientists. They get to look into the little gym that is on one of the higher floors, which is an amusing diversion even if there is no equipment that is truly of benefit to them. Rosso and him both get to investigate the new map that is a floor above it, physical, interactive, and absolutely necessary for anyone missing their key card to the other floor - Sephiroth doesn't understand it himself. Lazard told him once that it was a work of spite by one of the newer department heads.

Although speaking of spite... Rosso doesn't even bother to keep it out of her voice when the Reestrictor finally tracks the two of them down on one of the early 60 floors, filled with plants that almost look real, if Sephiroth hadn't seen them actually living outside of Midgar. "You were unclear on where exactly you were to be," she drawls, under the blank glare of the Restrictor's helmet. "Such faults within that which claims to be above us."

For a moment, having witnessed the power that the Restrictor holds over her, Sephiroth wonders if they'll use the electricity device on her... but they don't. Not here, anyway, in view of so many average office workers who would no doubt raise a fuss if they saw it happen right before their eyes.

Instead, they merely say, "Into the elevator, Rosso." And even though that sort of subservience doesn't suit her at all, they all know that there's no real choice here.

Rosso goes into the elevator.

"Your assistance in handling Rosso the Crimson during this week has been appreciated, First Class SOLDIER Sephiroth," the Restrictor tells him. "We will contact your Director soon in order to proceed with plans for future cooperation." That's all he's given before the Restrictor gets into the elevator as well, and both they and Rosso disappear.

What else can Sephiroth do? All he can do. That is to say, he obediently goes back to SOLDIER headquarters and makes sure to sign off on anything that he brought with him out on his annihilation mission with Rosso. He lets Lazard know that he is done with his assignments for the day. He goes outside, and he allows the ShinRa personnel to drive him back so that they can keep an eye on him, and he goes up into his apartment. He makes dinner for himself, or, rather, he heats up the very last of the food Angeal had given to him before. When he goes to throw out the box of nutritionally balanced dinner that the Science Department still sends, he only has to take care of his alone. Deepground never bothered sending another for Rosso.

He supposes that this would be why.

And then, when all of that is done, dishes washed and set to dry... He goes into his room, into a portion of it that he knows cannot be seen from the outside, and he takes out the communication device taken from SOLDIER around a week ago. He attaches it to his ear. He waits for the signal to go through.

A low humming, a sort of click. Gillian's voice, there on the other end of the line. "And there we go... Are you ready, then?"

"I'm ready."