OPEN POST; [ SEPHIROTH / FFVII ]

[supersoldier]

those chosen by the planet.

(( despite the ominous choice of music i default to a pre-nibelheim canon point, but can play post-nibelheim upon request! ))

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[supersoldier]

[It isn't like him to be pressed to the earth like this, as strange a sensation as it is -- surrounded by flowers. So Sephiroth guides a gloved hand into the terra firma, oddly put off by its strange vivacity in this steel city, pushing himself up and drawing to his full height.

There's a sense of him realigning his focus, like it's been sent askew during his fall, but that lasts but a millisecond. His back is suddenly SOLDIER-straight, his gaze purposefully placid. Assessing.

She appears relatively unbothered by his presence, which says something for her personality, all things considered.]

I'm fine. [For such a tumble, Sephiroth is made of sterner stuff than to break under the collision of a long fall. His gaze moves back towards Masamune, and he moves towards the blade, bending down to pick it up by its hilt.] I need to return to Shinra. Contact the company if you want to be reimbursed for the damage to your roof.

[terracanta]

[ He appears a dark angel in his full stature, cloaked in soft sunlight that gleams off his silver hair. And his eyes… they shine piercingly of a colour Aerith is familiar with. She sees it glow above the plates at night as well as seeping out of torn pipes in dark, uncared for alleys in the depths of the slums, like blood. (Gaia cries, but does anyone else listen?) Less often, she sees it sparkle from the ground… the Lifestream flows even in this dark, heaving metropolis that separates wealth and poverty so clearly. (Gaia fights, as humans do, but it is not yet her time for war.)

Aerith keeps her secret thoughts between her lungs as they fill with breath, the smell of old wood and watered soil dancing upon her senses. She is unbothered but she is also curious who this man is, where he's from and how he could feasibly use a sword like that. Isn't that longer than his body? Isn't that kind of excessive?

—"Shinra." The name rings in her ears. She tries not to reveal her shock, distrust. Aerith is fairly good at hiding behind a smile, though glancing at the ceiling and the light dusting the blooms, the smile is more grateful than he might expect. ]

Oh! There's no need. Actually, I think the extra light will do great for the flowers. So… thank you for that. What was your name?

[ She doesn't want him to rush out, but in case he tries, Aerith shuffles to a flowerbed and bends down to pick a particularly happy blossom. The yellow is bright like the sun, and its leaves stretch out like arms ready for an embrace. She stands to face him, holding this piece delicately between her fingers. ]