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 a power like he’s seen before, not exactly. Though he does expect it to a certain extent, having been privy to the glow around her hands up until now, knowing that she must be holding it at ready, much like an infantryman releases the safety of their rifle before firing it off at a threat.

Sephiroth treats it like magic — and he had been trained (likely so, the memory so far gone now, stretching itself into the background of his mind) for years to avoid attacks flung his way, and to counter swiftly, terribly. He springs up, leaps into the air with inhuman ease, her energy blast slicing just past him and slamming into the ground where he once stood.

Masamune shivers in the warping heat of the atmosphere, reflecting the flames in an orange-brightness as it careens directly towards her, a downward swing of his sword aimed straight for her head this time.]

[higherfurtherfaster]

[Whoa, he's fast. That sword is heading for her again. Carol dodges in the air, letting him go past her and flying slightly higher this time.]

What's your problem anyway? Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed?

[Her fists glow brighter, building up more energy than the last blast.]

Or do you always go around trying to cut people open and look at their insides?

[Her tone is conversational, with a hint of sarcasm. Yon-Rogg always told her that humor was a weakness. Vers never believed him. Carol certainly doesn't.

She releases two photon blasts this time, one from each fist. One is aimed at his head, the other at the hilt of his sword. Given enough time, she can melt most metals. Of course he's probably not going to hold still long enough for that, but maybe she can knock the sword out of his hand.]

[supersoldier]

[Sarcasm and humor might as well be empty words, for how little they affect him. At this point, so much of Sephiroth cares not for what others might say, what they might think, in this world forged of lies and filled to the brim with those who hold a stolen inheritance in their hands.

But again, there’s something quite different about this one, made obvious by her easy flight that not-magic bursting from her hands and flying at his head. A swift dodge to the side avoids the first, and a slice of steel careens through the second. The force is still enough to push him back, as though he has just cleaved an explosion in two, jostling his frame; but Sephiroth remains planted to the ground this time, not pursuing her mid-air.

Eyes sharp, at least this time they flicker with curiosity.]

What are you supposed to be?

[higherfurtherfaster]

[It doesn't escape her that he phrased his question as 'what', not 'who'. Rude.

Since he didn't attack again, Carol considers how to answer as she lands, still keeping a good distance between them. There's no easy answer to his question. The ranks and titles she has claim to mean nothing on this backwater little world. And even if they did, she wouldn't call herself a Kree anyway. She still flinches mentally at the memory of her arrogant description of herself as a 'noble warrior hero' Kree to Fury. Of course at that time, she had considered Earth to be a backwater little world.

She shrugs.]

I'm a traveler. Just passing through to somewhere else.

[She doesn't offer a name, just throws his question back at him with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.]

And what are you supposed to be?