Parade Square :: Winterheart One of the most beautiful areas of Winterheart is the Kekhaial Parade Square. Nearly a mile both in length and breadth, the ground is completely made up of ice frost blue granite, accented with decorative walls of Wukelan red granite. Statues to Roc are sporadically placed throughout the area, interspersed with evergreen trees and guard posts. Citizens mull about here, utilizing the grounds as the only park in the city. This place is also where the administrative building for the arena is set up. It stands in an out-of-the-way southern corner of the Parade Square. This is the place where those who wish to see a fight purchase their tickets, as well as the place where the less-unpleasant spectator's entrance to the complex resides. Contents: Sephiroth Obvious exits: Arena Complex Market Arcology Governmental Bloc Mortuarium Industrial Sector Military Base ShinRa Enterprises Satin Seductions The square was a breath of fresh air from the sore on the earth the rest of the city had a habbit of being here...even with its layer of snow from the last fall and interspersed intimidating figures of Roc-- it was welcoming in its own way. The air was it's familiar icy chill despite it still being 'day' out, it was a brighter shade of grey if you wanted to get technical if you bothered looking up at the sky. Sephiroth wasn't here to admire the scenery persay on the other hand, despite how appearances may seem. The colonel stood at the center of what looked to be trampled snow on the mile long stretch, scuffed and scattered to show some of the granite below it. There was also a smattering of red that had long started to congeal, or rather freeze staining both white and blue. The three squads he'd hauled out here to train had left minutes earlier under the command of their respective captains, and not all of them would be going to the barracks to dress down and relax. One would have to make up for the lack of discipline from a couple of their comrades. Moral wasn't particularly at it's high point right now, despite what the news may be saying here in Winterheart, the Militsii had ways of hearing the unglossed version to things and how the 'disturbance' in Middleton had gone. Gone against them that is. The frustrating thing was that Sephiroth had been there not too long ago-- ahh, Nanashi. You'd been planning all along hadn't you? He had to respect the blindman, it's a good thing he hadn't lingered for his sake. He might have had to kill him again. There really weren't that many people wandering around the Square, atleast not where the exercises had gone down. The inhabitants knew to give them their birthe, and they were only now starting to trickle back in there. Day, night, cold, warm--it doesn't really much matter to Setsuri. Perhaps cold and warm do, a little; were it much warmer, the encompassing outfit she wears now would be sweltering hot, instead of merely comfortable. Or at least warm; 'comfortable' might not be precisely the word she's looking for. But perhaps it's just the dirt. After a few months, she's become marginally accustomed to getting dirty again, but the cancellation of her god-gift has still left her with a much lower tolerance for picking up dust and dirt and stains. She's not in the square to bitch about laundry issues, though. Nor is she prowling here again hoping to find that Uchiha fellow--she doubted he'd return here, after their fight. It would be... perhaps not obvious, but it doesn't seem in his style. No, really, the only reason she comes here is that, sooner or later, most of the important people of Winterheart end up walking out here, perhaps to talk where spies or hidden devices have a harder time following, perhaps on their way from one place to another, or perhaps--most rarely--simply to enjoy the place. The hope that she would actually find something useful--a whiff of a familiar aura, a stain of power that might have resulted from being around one of Golden Hall's artifacts--has long since faded, but still she comes. Habit, perhaps, or weary rote actions, or just nothing better to do. Most likely the latter. The square is a little different today, though, and she pauses upon noticing the emptiness of it, punctuated by the single lone presence far off in the center. Her curiosity stirred, she approaches, snow crunching beneath her boots. The familiar stink of violence rubs against her senses as she nears, until she's standing perhaps ten or twenty yards away. No sign of bodies. Just the man and the old aura of death and violence. A policeman, perhaps? A murderer wouldn't simply stand around the place where he'd killed while someone else hauled the bodies away. The swordsman fist curled and uncurled. He'd split the soldier's lip, broken his nose, and probably bruised his chest badly enough that it would be tender for several days. But he'd made his point atleast, his partner in the upstart had faired much better and had recognised when not to push the darkly clad man. It hadn't been his usual squads, some of those had gone off to Middleton-- they knew, the veterans not to try his patience. He had some, but when it ran out-- that was another story. The youth's ill temper at not being able to aid his comrades in Middleton, not being able go to make a stand was understandible though. He just went about it the wrong way. It most likely wasn't that alone which Setsuri would feel from Sephiroth, that was just the barest of a wiff incomparison to what clung to him, unwilling enough to let go each both a victim in their own right. Those that had suffered at his hand, and his own suffering. Even without such a sense, it was clear he was a man who harkend to battle, to strife and bloodshed. His most faithful of friends lay strapped across his back, Masamune, though out of his way it might aswell be within his hand if he needed it. And despite the soldiers insubordination-- he hadn't merited drawing it. For all appearances, he doesn't seem to notice the woman's approach, infact he was completly absorbed by his own thoughts, though he wasn't. He all but ignored her approach till she was only a few more yards away and with a small toss of his head he turned to regard her. Feline eyes showed not the slightest hint of anything remotely pacifist, but clearly that of a preditor, he studied her. Her stance, her movement, the smoothness and inherant graceful balance. And at the corner of his lips, they tugged with a ghost of a smirk. You had desired to find someone of import? He might do this evening. "If you came to watch the training exercises, you're late." He knew she hadn't been. Unfortunately, while Setsuri's sensitivity goes to greater degrees than most would guess, it does not work so well in more than the immediate sense; past history is difficult to discern, unless it's made a strong imprint. But souls have a mark of their own, and this one... she can tell his soul isn't clean. Not that those in Winterheart rarely are, but this one goes a level beyond most. Death follows him. She's drawn from her study of him by his casual inquiry. Shifting her weight slightly, she simply cocks a brow, the one silver eye visible oddly blank and unreadable. "Training exercises? You are a member of the military, then?" she inquires lightly, her voice surprisingly smooth and cultured for one of her slightly rough appearance. If he is, then she's in luck. Although they had decided to start at the top, perhaps this one would do... it all depended on what rank he held, and whether he would know anything of use. Even if he wasn't all that high, he might be a decent starting point--and if so, then he might be the path to their getting out of the damned place. As far as fishes went in the pond of Winterheart, Sephiroth was definately one of the larger ones, but hardly one of the kind she might have desired to encounter. Not that his capabillities were lacking, the ex-General saw no need to push foward to a higher ranking with any rush. Being where he was kept him involved physically rather than sitting all day involved with strategy and paperwork...the political wranglings that went on as each vied for a better position failed to interest him enough to dabble more than he needed too. So far...he had suffered no direct repercussions from any stupidity that required a change in course. Then again, what of the fiasco that went down in Middleton? It was interesting his take on loyalty towards the Winterheart. He would fight till death if required to protect or overtake, he would sacrifice all to get the job done, or close enough for someone to finish it. On the other hand, he bore Middleton no strong ill will for their clever insurrection. Infact, it kept things interesting, and him with a job. There was very little here in this Dream he kept personal outside of his own past...and it worked towards his favour. Sephiroth actually smiled, something of a brethren to the chill snow scattering the landscape. "Not necessarily, I could be civillian who takes interest in such things." He could, but he wasn't, though he wouldn't admit to it just yet. He canted his head as he looked down at her, "Why are you here?" He asked simply. It wasn't an order coming from a Rota about some suspicion, it was curiousity partly. She was a kindred spirit, atleast in arms...and even if she wore no weapons he would still be able to tell. Things that became habit and instinct was noticable to those who knew how to look for it. Something so simple as maintaining balance at all times, to a decision to position themselves that their flanks were least exposed. Setsuri hasn't heard yet of what went on in Middleton; she would certainly be interested if she'd heard, though, and probably even applaud them a little. They'd been, as she sees it at htis point, pretty pansy to just let Winterheart walk all over them like that, so it's about time they showed some balls and struck back. She wouldn't have tolerated the presence of a foreigner on her lands, or so she thinks. If nothing else, she would have left before suffering indignities. But then, her pride is rather important to her. "A civilian who takes interest, standing in the middle of where the exercises must have taken place, and with such a bearing?" She almost drawls the question, sounding faintly amused. "I think not. If nothing else, I would think they would do better than to allow uninvolved civilians to watch their training exercises." If they did, her opinion of them would drop sharply. "As it is, it must have ended recently, or there would be more people about." People have just barely begun to filter back in; she was really one of the first, perhaps because she was unaware of the exercises going on and happened to walk in just as they finished and the remains were cleaned up. At the direct question, she offers a lift of one brow and a ghost of what might be a smile, were it about ten times bigger. "Are citizens not allowed to walk the public square any more?" It isn't something that would be broadcasted from the tops of all the roof tops here in Winterheart, no. Sephiroth's position afforded him a few information luxeries, though sadly while there had been rumours of dissension...which was of no suprise, everything had gone to hell shortly after he had departed. That was probably the most annoying thing about it. The swordsman was a tenacious individual, and what he had fought for and claimed as 'his' he disliked giving it up. Yes, Middleton had taken their yoke far too easily incomparison to what it could have been and it was enough that he returned for a lack of anything productive to do. "Maybe it is because of who I am that they did? The Militsii are always on the lookout for persons who fit the bill of a fine soldier. They have to come from somewhere...why not the civillian populace?" Was that a hidden recruitment add for Setsuri? Maybe. Maybe not...he wasn't beyond offering a stranger a job before. He'd done so with a mercenary who'd caught his attention and nearly one of his men's throat. "Don't be so quick to dismiss the uses of a public display, what better way to bolster pride?" His smile deepened and darkened simultaneously with words he'd yet utter. "Or in the case of discordance, mute it." Sephiroth shrugged with an easy roll of his shoulders, "They are. But I've found not many actually care for its cold beauty, rather having a business agenda for rendez-vous." And then he raised his own silver brows, "Naturally I expect you to confess." He spoke it in tones so serious that it could only be taken as sarcastic humour. Sephiroth had a twisted sense of one, and he appreciated it in others so long as it didn't extend to naturally...himself as the subject. Not negatively. Clever of them to act like that, although apparently it hadn't done great good--she'd heard that the Militsii General himself had gone to settle matters there, at least. It hadn't seemed to be very secret news, anyway, since she'd heard of it--although admittedly, she'd been listening for anything concerning the military. "Oh? A high opinion of yourself you have. Who are you, then?" The question is tossed off lightly, in an indifferent tone of voice--though she is in fact interested. It has to do with what she came here for, after all, but it would be no good to seem too interested for a chance encounter. "If for such a purpose, perhaps; but as a training exercise, it would be less efficient," she counters-- then remembers that she's just supposed to be a regular citizen. One who knows how to fight--there would be no point in hauling around so many weapons, after all--but not one who is supposed to know anything about the other implications of exercises or anything of command. Best to keep a low profile. "Nothing to say I was not stopped on the way to another part of the city, or waiting for a rendezvous with someone." In a manner of speaking, one could say that she is--a rendezvous with a head of state. Hopefully. Although it seems unlikely. "Though if I am or if I am not, I am going to have to disappoint your expectations," she continues dryly. "Confessions are not something I have ever become habituated to." It's very common, there are few reasons to publicize what can be considered percieved weakness in defeat-- only the rare subterfuge from plots that if they fell correctly, would end with the so-called loser the winner. Unfortunately for Winterheart's case, this wasn't such a scenario. Yes, the General himself was there to attempt to do damage control-- an individual Sephiroth would have to automatically respect for climbing to such a position in this city of all cities. Underhandedness was the law verses exception. You had to be quick of mind and strong of hand to thrive in such an environment. "Opinion? I state merely fact. A capable individual should always inherantly know what they can achieve." Sephiroth pointed out, his tone didn't carry flagrant arrogance of one who sought to support an overblown ego either. There lay within a hidden challenge, that if she truely desired to contest him on this point, he would have no problems proving it. The swordsman never really sought to hide his identitiy, there weren't many long-haired silver haired dressed in black and weilding a huge long sword about in the Militsii if she decided to do her homework. And he had rank. His reputation amongst those in the army wasn't all encompassing either, but it was there in pockets. Those who naturally encountered him, or was due too. Sephiroth was a man who had risen in his old world to the status of General himself, it was something that was aided yes, by his alterations. But he was no fool, he had a sharp mind and he narrowed his eyes a hairsbreath at her own assessment. For it had been a solid one. A smart citizen? Or something else? She could be both, or none. He ignored her question and continued, "I would have been suprised if you answered truthfully, so you need not worry yourself in causing me any disappointment. Truth it often seems has a small shadowed niche in this city." Those who didn't know how to use it offensively. "Atleast, the less harmful kind." So then, what was he to do with this woman? "My name is Sephiroth." He answered suddenly, and added, "A fine soldier." And he smirked openly. There was your 'less harmful' 'truth'. "Which are you?" Civillian, fine soldier, take your pick. A name would be nice, but he wouldn't fuss if she desired to withold it. Clever of them to act like that, although apparently it hadn't done great good--she'd heard that the Militsii General himself had gone to settle matters there, at least. It hadn't seemed to be very secret news, anyway, since she'd heard of it--although admittedly, she'd been listening for anything concerning the military. "Oh? A high opinion of yourself you have. Who are you, then?" The question is tossed off lightly, in an indifferent tone of voice--though she is in fact interested. It has to do with what she came here for, after all, but it would be no good to seem too interested for a chance encounter. "If for such a purpose, perhaps; but as a training exercise, it would be less efficient," she counters-- then remembers that she's just supposed to be a regular citizen. One who knows how to fight--there would be no point in hauling around so many weapons, after all--but not one who is supposed to know anything about the other implications of exercises or anything of command. Best to keep a low profile. "Nothing to say I was not stopped on the way to another part of the city, or waiting for a rendezvous with someone." In a manner of speaking, one could say that she is--a rendezvous with a head of state. Hopefully. Although it seems unlikely. "Though if I am or if I am not, I am going to have to disappoint your expectations," she continues dryly. "Confessions are not something I have ever become habituated to." It's very common, there are few reasons to publicize what can be considered percieved weakness in defeat-- only the rare subterfuge from plots that if they fell correctly, would end with the so-called loser the winner. Unfortunately for Winterheart's case, this wasn't such a scenario. Yes, the General himself was there to attempt to do damage control-- an individual Sephiroth would have to automatically respect for climbing to such a position in this city of all cities. Underhandedness was the law verses exception. You had to be quick of mind and strong of hand to thrive in such an environment. "Opinion? I state merely fact. A capable individual should always inherantly know what they can achieve." Sephiroth pointed out, his tone didn't carry flagrant arrogance of one who sought to support an overblown ego either. There lay within a hidden challenge, that if she truely desired to contest him on this point, he would have no problems proving it. The swordsman never really sought to hide his identitiy, there weren't many long-haired silver haired dressed in black and weilding a huge long sword about in the Militsii if she decided to do her homework. And he had rank. His reputation amongst those in the army wasn't all encompassing either, but it was there in pockets. Those who naturally encountered him, or was due too. Sephiroth was a man who had risen in his old world to the status of General himself, it was something that was aided yes, by his alterations. But he was no fool, he had a sharp mind and he narrowed his eyes a hairsbreath at her own assessment. For it had been a solid one. A smart citizen? Or something else? She could be both, or none. He ignored her question and continued, "I would have been suprised if you answered truthfully, so you need not worry yourself in causing me any disappointment. Truth it often seems has a small shadowed niche in this city." Those who didn't know how to use it offensively. "Atleast, the less harmful kind." So then, what was he to do with this woman? "My name is Sephiroth." He answered suddenly, and added, "A fine soldier." And he smirked openly. There was your 'less harmful' 'truth'. "Which are you?" Civillian, fine soldier, take your pick. A name would be nice, but he wouldn't fuss if she desired to withold it. Alas, she is unable to discern hair or clothes colors, and although the length of said hair and sword are clues, she holds her judgment in reserve until he should say something confirming it. She has heard a few whispers of this man, but in truth, had not paid much attention to them; at the time, she had been listening for whispers of Raidho and, later, Nauthiz, not of officials in the Militsii. That came much later, rather more recently. "Ah, but the difficulty is in determining whether one is a capable individual or an arrogant fool," she counters. "So often are the latter the case that they overshadow the existence of the former nearly entirely." A subtle insult, perhaps, or perhaps just an overly blunt way of stating her view. There is no sneer or lifted brow to indicate the existence of an insult, though. Merely the same neutral, still expression she'd kept for most of their conversation. "I find truth to be much more advantageous," she says thoughtfully. "People do not expect it." And then follows that up with a blatant lie: "I am Shikharin. Not a soldier." Which is also true enough. At least, she doesn't consider herself a soldier, despite having a position in an army--she is a Knight, or a priestess (sometimes), or a warrior. 'Soldier' suggests something faceless and .. hm... not so honorable, perhaps.