"Remember, Sephiroth," Lazard says, so soft and quiet that even he almost can't hear him, "if you have a chance, more than anything else, you should take it." Perhaps in any other scenario, they would be encouraging, or at least meant to be.
It's just that, right now, Director Lazard has his hands held placidly up, and a gun is pointed at his head.
Behind him, the woman takes a step back, her fingers digging deep into the fine suit of the director and encouraging him along with her. Sephiroth steps back with them - off to the side, matching their slow pace, and his gaze flicks back to her. He has Masamune with him. He is positive that he could erase the threat here in the blink of an eye. Nothing about her says soldier, after all, all capitals or not.
Or maybe that is not entirely true. Her hands are not soft, but they are not the rough callouses of a gunwoman. She isn't holding Director Lazard in the most optimal way to stop him from escaping, if perhaps he really tried. And yet as she looks down the hall, situated where she is in the precarious position at one of the highest floors in ShinRa's building, there is no fear there like a regular civilian would hold. There is only an endless sort of calm to her, like the way water pulls back right before a storm. It is intense, in a way that feels somehow familiar.
It wouldn't help her against Masamune's edge, of course, but it makes Sephiroth wonder even as he grips the sword tightly in his hands.
"Step away from the director," he says calmly, even though he has to raise his voice slightly as the hard stomping of boots and the clacking of equipment signals the arrival of more soldiers here to take care of the intruder that has somehow slipped right into the heart of the massive facility. There are probably Turks there as well, intermingled amongst the more common SOLDIERs, but he doesn't care about that. He cares about the only person who's only cared for him, with a muzzle pressed against his head. "This is your final warning."
This may be the last warning he gets for the Director, too. Sephiroth has no faith that, if they really wanted, ShinRa could find another replacement director, if they thought it would be easier, more beneficial, to capture this strange woman and find out how she was able to get in here so easily. And... And he won't let that happen. No matter what.
The woman - short black hair held back with bobby pins that catch the artificial lighting - doesn't look at him. Not exactly, not quite. There's a twitch, small muscles near her eyes, that hint she might very well want to. "You are the boy in the labs, aren't you?" she asks, and there is something in his ribcage that - jerks.
He's lived in the labs for as long as he can remember, patiently having to endure test after test after test, up until Lazard was introduced to it all. Until Lazard managed to convince and work with the scientists to let him out. It has meant being in a war, yes, but it has meant tasting air sweeping with it the distance scent of rain or feeling the rolling warmth of sunlight. It has also meant him not being allowed to talk about that kind of thing - trade secrets for ShinRa, or something similar. He's never questioned it. People have never known.
Except Lazard, and the scientists, and this strange woman with her hand steady on a gun and eyes that don't waver.
She has a backpack. Sephiroth wonders if there is paperwork in there, files and CDs and other things just full of information. Did she read anything, before she stumbled upon Lazard? Took him for a hostage, and ran into Sephiroth? She can't have been in ShinRa for that long. How does she know?
And why does she says, with a quiet trembling voice, "I apologize that I did not come to you sooner."
"Sephiroth," Lazard says, still quiet, so quiet and careful that his lips don't even seem to move, and that's enough of an anchor for him. Enough to pull him together a little bit, from the way something inside is shaking. "Don't hurt her. You should go with her - quickly."
The idea of leaving Shinra - of leaving the only place, the only thing, he actually knows is actually quietly terrifying. And yet, if Lazard told him to do it, Sephiroth would, in any other circumstances. It's just the idea of leaving without him that is far more horrifying. He feels cold. Like ice. "I am not leaving you behind," he says firmly, and his stance shifts slightly.
Down the hall, all the way in the back and far past what normal people could see, he knows there is a flash of black there that is nothing like what the average SOLDIER wears. A Turk. Someone with the shine of a gun on them. They might be able to shoot at the intruder from this distance, but it's far more likely that they'll either go through Lazard in order to do it, or, at the very least, hit him entirely by accident. If by some miracle they don't, Sephiroth still doesn't trust this woman's finger to spasm from the pain, pull the trigger...
For the first time in his life, Sephiroth takes a breath and prepares to disobey an order. He'll have to position Masamune just right, of course, make sure to act fast enough to move the gun's muzzle away from Lazard. If he executes it smoothly enough, he can use the momentum, force her to the ground with minimal injury, get Lazard free-
The building rumbles, and something massive rises up past the floor-to-ceiling windows near them, blocking the bright lights of Midgar.
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1/2
It's just that, right now, Director Lazard has his hands held placidly up, and a gun is pointed at his head.
Behind him, the woman takes a step back, her fingers digging deep into the fine suit of the director and encouraging him along with her. Sephiroth steps back with them - off to the side, matching their slow pace, and his gaze flicks back to her. He has Masamune with him. He is positive that he could erase the threat here in the blink of an eye. Nothing about her says soldier, after all, all capitals or not.
Or maybe that is not entirely true. Her hands are not soft, but they are not the rough callouses of a gunwoman. She isn't holding Director Lazard in the most optimal way to stop him from escaping, if perhaps he really tried. And yet as she looks down the hall, situated where she is in the precarious position at one of the highest floors in ShinRa's building, there is no fear there like a regular civilian would hold. There is only an endless sort of calm to her, like the way water pulls back right before a storm. It is intense, in a way that feels somehow familiar.
It wouldn't help her against Masamune's edge, of course, but it makes Sephiroth wonder even as he grips the sword tightly in his hands.
"Step away from the director," he says calmly, even though he has to raise his voice slightly as the hard stomping of boots and the clacking of equipment signals the arrival of more soldiers here to take care of the intruder that has somehow slipped right into the heart of the massive facility. There are probably Turks there as well, intermingled amongst the more common SOLDIERs, but he doesn't care about that. He cares about the only person who's only cared for him, with a muzzle pressed against his head. "This is your final warning."
This may be the last warning he gets for the Director, too. Sephiroth has no faith that, if they really wanted, ShinRa could find another replacement director, if they thought it would be easier, more beneficial, to capture this strange woman and find out how she was able to get in here so easily. And... And he won't let that happen. No matter what.
The woman - short black hair held back with bobby pins that catch the artificial lighting - doesn't look at him. Not exactly, not quite. There's a twitch, small muscles near her eyes, that hint she might very well want to. "You are the boy in the labs, aren't you?" she asks, and there is something in his ribcage that - jerks.
He's lived in the labs for as long as he can remember, patiently having to endure test after test after test, up until Lazard was introduced to it all. Until Lazard managed to convince and work with the scientists to let him out. It has meant being in a war, yes, but it has meant tasting air sweeping with it the distance scent of rain or feeling the rolling warmth of sunlight. It has also meant him not being allowed to talk about that kind of thing - trade secrets for ShinRa, or something similar. He's never questioned it. People have never known.
Except Lazard, and the scientists, and this strange woman with her hand steady on a gun and eyes that don't waver.
She has a backpack. Sephiroth wonders if there is paperwork in there, files and CDs and other things just full of information. Did she read anything, before she stumbled upon Lazard? Took him for a hostage, and ran into Sephiroth? She can't have been in ShinRa for that long. How does she know?
And why does she says, with a quiet trembling voice, "I apologize that I did not come to you sooner."
"Sephiroth," Lazard says, still quiet, so quiet and careful that his lips don't even seem to move, and that's enough of an anchor for him. Enough to pull him together a little bit, from the way something inside is shaking. "Don't hurt her. You should go with her - quickly."
The idea of leaving Shinra - of leaving the only place, the only thing, he actually knows is actually quietly terrifying. And yet, if Lazard told him to do it, Sephiroth would, in any other circumstances. It's just the idea of leaving without him that is far more horrifying. He feels cold. Like ice. "I am not leaving you behind," he says firmly, and his stance shifts slightly.
Down the hall, all the way in the back and far past what normal people could see, he knows there is a flash of black there that is nothing like what the average SOLDIER wears. A Turk. Someone with the shine of a gun on them. They might be able to shoot at the intruder from this distance, but it's far more likely that they'll either go through Lazard in order to do it, or, at the very least, hit him entirely by accident. If by some miracle they don't, Sephiroth still doesn't trust this woman's finger to spasm from the pain, pull the trigger...
For the first time in his life, Sephiroth takes a breath and prepares to disobey an order. He'll have to position Masamune just right, of course, make sure to act fast enough to move the gun's muzzle away from Lazard. If he executes it smoothly enough, he can use the momentum, force her to the ground with minimal injury, get Lazard free-
The building rumbles, and something massive rises up past the floor-to-ceiling windows near them, blocking the bright lights of Midgar.