sonnestark | aefenglom: ic contact

[Considering how reticent he is, Karin is surprised to receive a message from Sephiroth in the first place. They see each other here and there, meet in passing quite regularly, but he's never been one for casual conversation— those they've had have often been straight to the point and hinged on their shared experiences, but he was the sort to dismiss pleasantries. As such, she's not quite sure what to expect when she takes up her watch and opens his message, but it's certainly not the image he's sent her.

Oh.]

I think so. That is, in a manner of speaking, yes.

[It hadn't always belonged to her, but in the absence of its previous owner, she can't think of anyone else who could lay claim to it now. Besides, there's no mistaking it. She knows that gilded hilt well.]

This delivery system really leaves a lot to be desired.

[It’s good that his search ends here, he thinks. No more texts flung wide in hopes of finding the owner of this mystery sword — it’s a mystery no longer. It belongs to her (“in a manner of speaking”) and her recognition is the end of it, or will be, with its impending return.]

More than that. If it had landed in the care of a stranger, you might not have seen it again.

[If this happened to him and, say, Masamune, he cannot fathom how agitated he would have been.]

I assume you want it back.

If you wouldn't mind, yes.

[She already has Durandal, so she doesn't even know that she'll use this, but... it was clearly here for her. It meant something, even if the sentiments attached to it weren't all pleasant.]

I can come pick it up whenever it's convenient, or I could meet you somewhere, if that's easier.

[They don't know each other quite well enough for her to be inviting him to the house, especially when she has a very private roommate whose space she respects.]

[He doesn't expect an invite to anywhere in particular, honestly, so in the end, it's fine. Sephiroth already had a mind to invite her over, anyhow. Barring... Yazoo sometimes being present (and even then), it's a quiet household, kept clean and without incident.

Easy enough for Karin to meet him there to pick up what rightly belongs to her.]

If you have time this evening, stop by where I live.

[Insert the address here.]

I won't be busy. [Unfortunately.]

Thank you for reaching out to me. I'll be along this evening, then.

[Her evenings do tend to be relatively free unless she's found a job to commit herself to, and so she doesn't have to do any rearranging to make herself available. Even if she had, she would have done it readily— she's inconvenienced him enough already by his having to track down the sword's owner, and there's a certain degree of anxiety involved, as well. She hasn't seen that sword in a long while, but seeing it in person will make certain things feel more real.

It's early evening when she arrives at the address she'd been given, knocking lightly before she proceeds to wait on the doorstep with a small, white box between her hands. A small token of her appreciation seemed appropriate, and to be honest, there's a part of her that hopes it detracts some from the memories of that full moon they'd spent hunting together.

She's been having some trouble shaking them, herself.]

[He doesn't make her wait, ever the punctual one even when it comes to opening the door for a visitor. It swings open, and there Sephiroth stands, great black wings pressed to his back, hair tied back in a simple ponytail which seems to tame the protrusion of dark feathers still interwoven in the silver. It lends him a more casual appearance, but that much has been unavoidable as of late -- his SOLDIER uniform is well beyond the capability of being worn, what with the protrusion of his wings.

It's been a while. It's good to see her, he thinks, as though she is one of the few acquaintances he cares to see again in this place.]

Punctual, as to be expected. [Hi. That's his hello. His gaze falls upon the white box in her hands, even as he steps back to allow her in.] ...You didn't have to bring anything.

[Her own changes have developed significantly since they last saw one another for any length of time— her wings are fully grown now, flightfeathers and all, brilliant crimson and folded comfortably against her back. She's starting not to notice the talons anymore, although the red and white tailfeathers have a habit of getting in the way. Altering her wardrobe to suit was an ever-evolving adventure these days, it seemed, but she's almost sure she's reaching the point where there will be little left to change before too long.

It seems strange to see him with his hair pulled back, but she imagines he must be struggling with many of the same inconveniences she is. Feathers are difficult to tame, and of course nothing either of them used to wear will do them much good anymore. Still, even like this, he has a stern and commanding sort of presence. The military is in his very bones.

She smiles just a touch sheepishly as she steps over the threshold, offering him a quick nod as she does so before turning to face him.]

It's nothing much, just a small show of my appreciation. Unless you don't like scones, and then I suppose it's not much of a 'thank you,' but— [Look, it doesn't really matter what's in the box, she reminds herself.] I wanted to. It's good to see you again.

[Her differences are easy to note — the grand splay of crimson wings compared to what he had seen last time, just freshly blood-coated limbs sprouting from the blades of her back. It suits her, he thinks, perhaps more than his own wings suit him; but his thoughts regarding wings, in general, are relatively complicated, given all that he knows of them on Gaia.

She even has tail feathers, which blessedly he has avoided… for now. He knows it’s a matter of time, and this thought sticks so brightly in his mind that he cannot help but remark on them, even though he lacked any prompting.]

You look different. You have a tail.

[Tail… feathers.]

That is to say, it’s been a while. [Maybe that’s what he should have said, but. Ah, well. Sephiroth doesn’t linger on the intricacies of conversation, which paths he should take and which he should abandon, and instead moves things along by grasping the sides of the scones’ box she’s brought along with her.]

I’ll eat them. [The scones. Food wasted is a shame.] Thank you. Come in.

[He turns, then, leading her inside once the door is shut neatly behind them. The house is all very rather spartan, indeed, almost no real sign of Yazoo, who has been oddly absent as of late. (He should check on him, shouldn’t he?)]

My… [uuuuh… fragment of himself? That sure isn’t something he needs to get into right now.] —brother is not here at the moment, which gives us the house to ourselves. Not that much space is needed to return your blade.

[A blade which rests quite nearly on the coffee table in the middle of the living room, which is exactly where he leads her.]

[Her face colors just slightly at the mention of her tail— of course, there's nothing subtle about the tailfeathers themselves, but she's still getting used to having them. They get in the way more often than not, so far.]

This place has been one surprise after another, with all of the changes.

[And everything else. Still, as far as changes went, there were some things she expected— wings and feathers, largely— while others she decidedly had not. The teeth had been... challenging, to say the least.

She'd rather not revisit that.

She smiles again as he takes the box from her, giving a nod of approval, glad that the small offering has been well-received as the door closes behind them.]

I didn't realize your brother was here— in Aefenglom, that is. [Or even that he had a brother, but it's not like they've talked a whole lot about their personal lives.] That's nice— I'm glad to hear you have someone.

[It's awfully lonely when you don't.]

Edited 2020-12-19 19:06 (UTC)

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