naklog1

Scene: Nakago corners Tomo about Amiboshi, and ends up forcing the illusionist to reveal things he knows are being hidden. This ends up angering Sephiroth. Luckily, no battle ensues. Kutou would never forget the likes of that.

Characters: Nakago, Sephiroth and Tomo.

Date of Log: Finished Feb 27, 2001.

Afternoon, soon to be twilight as the sun's power in the sky wanes, preparing to dip beneath the arch of the world and slumber as night's shroud treads across the land of Kutou. Nakago, in a rare moment of idleness (or maybe not, who knows why he does things, for he always seems to have a purpose for being anywhere that no one knows but him), has wandered out to the courtyard, specifically to the gardens. Hands at his sides, he resists the urge to touch any of the plants here, for he's been known to select a delicate blossom and then crush it within his hand before watching the ruined petals slip between his fingers and trail lightly down to the path. For now, however, he'll forego that little pleasure. There really -is- a purpose for why he's here. The feeling of a stirring in the air, the sense of another's chi... who has been missing for awhile. Though the Hin has been busy as of late, he has not forgotten dear Tomo, or the traitorous Amiboshi, and not knowing (nor caring) why he senses the illusionist in the garden, he arrives nonetheless, face as impassive as ever.

Finding the pompous illusionist is not a difficult task. Merely follow the sound of childish laughter. And as Tomo's laughter, for all his childish ways, could hardly fit into that category, it's nevertheless apt that he be found in the same direction as the sound.
Two young women of less than holy prestige, Imperial concubines that have wandered too far from their designated halls, were one to wager a guess, stand at the foot of a pavilion, looking... up. At something. Which isn't even remotely hidden save for the fact that it's on a roof instead of on the ground. In a moment's idleness that's certainly NOT uncharacteristic of Tomo at all, especially when he's in a mood that he has been of late, abdomen sore and muchly so.
Balancing precariously upon the rooftop, back against it with his arms folded like a pillow against the crown of both head and headdress, gaze to the heavens and the stars that should be out shortly, Tomo lays with his legs crossed, doing so little as to occasionally wave a booted foot at the two ladies below, most of the only response they get as they call up to him in intervals stationed between giggling and talking between themselves. Tomo is none too thrilled with their company, detached from them as he is. Fangirls. Sometimes he appreciates the attention, but not now; he would rather they just go away. Eyes upon a point in the sky that he's determined should be about the right spot that the first star should come out, the illusionist is in the midst of puzzling out the best way to scare them off when a ripple of familiar ki nearby demands attention. Not that he gets down or moves, or anything, but it brings his eyes to roll in that general direction.

There is a tree here that is sometimes called the lovers tree for the shape of it. One side has a swing and the other has a limb that has grown strangely outwards in such a manner that it is perfect for sitting on... and sitting there is Sephiroth. Long white hair played with by evening breezes, the man is sitting with his inhuman patience as he looks out over the lake and how the water ripples. The man is dressed in dark colors as he normally is and there is a long coat of black with a harge furred collar pulled up against the chill in the air. After all spring has not quiet hit yet. He is aware of both Shogun and illusionist on two sides of him. However, he assumes that Tomo doesn't want his company right now and is sure the shogun has nothing to say to him at all. The two have talked on three or four occasions total since he was brought here.
The lean man is different from his astral self in only one way.. there ar his throat is a small pale pulse of light that beats at the same time as the man's heart. Yes, this is the real Sephiroth for all it doesn't feel any different at all from his projections Chi wise. His soul was in the projections you know and that always makes a difference. Should Nakago come close enough, and one of the paths goes right by here, the SOLDIER lifts his eyes to watch the tall blonde. The glowing green things blink languidly, but he says nothing right away. Nothing to say.. slave to shogun.

And guess who is to play killjoy for Tomo's fangirls? Nakago continues in the direction of the illusionist. Sephiroth is correct, for the Shogun has no interest in him at the moment, though he is aware of the other as he passes by him. But, there are plans forming in the ever scheming mind of the Hin. Nakago may yet have ways to use the former Midgar General. Cold blue eyes stare at the mako glow of Sephiroth's briefly, nodding to him as an acknowledgement, and nothing more. He does not stop, however, only pausing as he notices the harem women and their giggling, a faint smile crossing his lips, the patented smirk of this paticular Seiryuu Seishi. A few soft words are spoken in their direction, to send them away. Soft in voice, but there is still the sheer command of the Shogun behind them.
"Tomo," he calls without really raising his voice, looking up at the roof, "Come down, your adoring fans will no longer bother you." The smile has faded again, to remain hidden until something else amuses the Hin.

Regardless of whether or not Tomo realized Sephiroth was there initally, the silent exchange from one general to the other is watched through peripheral vision, the nannerings of the womenfolk below quite thoroughly ignored. Uh-huh, right, sure, he'll come down if you coo like that, whatever... >.> He scuffs a booted toe into the rooftop, attention caught by a particularly loose shingle. Wouldn't it be funny if it broke loose, fell, and smacked one of the lovely ladies right over her pretty-faced head? He ponders over it, the idea amusing enough to warrant the effort, but before he can work the shingle out to any amount of movability, a deep voice has replaced the soprano rattle of femininity. There's not much of a pause, golden eyes narrowed on the darkened sky, before Tomo responds.
*thump* Suddenly Tomo is upright and looking down at Nakago, crouching at the edge of the pavilion, feathers spilling over his shoulders to dangle toward the ground sleepily. Only the gingerness of his poise gives away how uncomfortable it is; on any other day, he'd be quite relaxed, but this has him bent slightly over an injury hidden beneath layers of silk; it hurts, but he doesn't shift postures yet. "You mean you don't count as an adoring fan? Maa, Nakago-sama." His smirk is brittle, the humour forced; he makes light of the situation because it is something he is wont to do, ever of dry humour, but that doesn't make it genuine. "I'm hurt."

The nod is returned and Sephiroth finds himself wondering what all of this is about. So as Nakago approaches the girls and the center of their attention, the man turns himself around to face the other side. This involves lifting first one leg over and then the other, hair flipped up and out of the way so it isn't sat on.. leaving the SOLDIER facing the opposite direction he had been a moment before. Watching in amusement he murmurs teasingly, "After all, one should not cast pearls before swine." His voice doesn't carry far and so the odds are that neither of you will hear it. Since he isn't the center of attention, and he wonders what went on to have Tomo come back wounded, the man sits and he waits.

"So I see," Nakago replies to Tomo, making it sound about as interesting as the pebbles beneath his feet. But, this is something the other seishi is probably used to, by now. The Shogun rarely ever seems phased by things. But, Tomo's injuries are not why he is here. Still, blue eyes take note of how the illusionist holds himself and he inquires, "You have seen a healer, ne? If not, I can always call on Soi to increase your ki." So, unless the wounds are life threatening, the Hin does not see them as serious enough to warrant more than a glance. But... was that a -joke-? From Nakago? Well, he does have a perverse sense of humor.
There is a pause after that, the Hin glancing just slightly over his shoulder, blue eyes just visible over the dragon claw pauldron as he looks toward Sephiroth. Did he hear that? No, but he did hear the other's voice. "Tomo, what has become of Amiboshi, hn?" Of course, he may already darn well know the answer to that, but is asking Tomo anyway. There's always a method behind Nakago's madness, but he seems to be the only one who understands it.

Tomo was more in fact referring to the fact that he was hurt by the fact that Nakago could not be included among the numbers of his adoring fans, but the pun wasn't unintentional either; the brittle smile twists into a dry smirk of the illusionist's own, only to vanish entirely at the suggestion that's offered to him. His ire all too quickly flares, golden eyes wide and flashing for the brief moment it takes for him to press his painted lips together and emit a derisive snort of failed amusement, his tone almost recalcitrant as he mutters, "That's not even funny." Perverse sense of humour indeed. Had Nakago been any other, the illusionist would have most certainly taken offense, and he's tempted to anyway, but stifles the urge, instead giving into comfort and arranging himself in a less painful position, seated now with his legs dangling off the edge of the roof, kicked absently from time to time. He has no intention of coming down despite being told that he can, either a silent dare for such a pointless measure to be pushed or just simply liking it better higher up than on the ground.
"Amiboshi-kun has learned his lesson," is the simple reply, punctuated by a throw of slender shoulders into a shrug and the reproachful arch of painted brows, as if to inquire whether there was any doubt to that reply. "There were admitted difficulties, but they were hardly noteworthy." This is emphasized by an idle wave of his hand. Never mind the man bears scars from these unnoteworthy difficulties. Hand still in the air, Tomo uses it as a prop next, chin supported on his palm, elbow to his knee, and follows Nakago's gaze toward the green-eyed eavesdropper, or at the very least, follows his gaze in the direction that it turns. "My goal was achieved."

"Tomo," Nakago says, the merest hint of amusement twisting his words to sounding far more engratiating than chiding, "Has your travels left you without a sense of humor?" There is no attempt to bring the other down from the roof. The Hin sees no reason to force the other down, and if it serves no purpose, then he shan't waste the expendature of chi. Not unless the other becomes downright rude, and even then, Nakago tends to allow him and Soi a little more slack than others. Had Suboshi pulled this, things might very well be different... then again, Suboshi is still a child in this Seishi's eyes and Tomo is not.
However, the patented Nakago smirk (tm) disappears again, eyes notably darkening as he listens to the illusionist's vague claims of having dealt with the runaway Seishi, Amiboshi. Sephiroth is no longer getting the Shogun's attention, blue eyes returning to the painted face of Tomo, staring at him impassively under a tangle of golden bangs. "Your goal was achieved, Tomo. But at what price?" Yes, Nakago has heard a fwe things, all right. The man is rather creepy in how omnipresent and omniscient he comes off as.

A thousand biting remarks regarding humour and that woman leap to mine, but Tomo swallows them, lest he stoke undue ire. Pressing his lips together instead, he manages a thin-lipped smile that remains untouched for a half-second or more, then evolves, a thinner grin that bares a line of teeth within a frame of painted red. Rather than reply seriously, or do the dignified thing and merely leave the remark as it no doubt was intended, that is rhetorical, he replies lightly, "I couldn't be sure, Nakago-sama. Gallivanting from one ends of the world to the other as I have, it's doubtless that I misplaced /something/." He's being flippant, but not yet rude. The younger Seiryuu Shichiseishi may be an arrogant ass of a man, but he's not entirely stupid. Most of the time.
It's without looking back down that Tomo wrinkles his nose absently, the issue pressed. Just to be contrary, he continues to look off into the growing dark for a few moments before looking down to meet the blue gaze leveled upon him, serpentine regard half-lidded and aflicker in the dying light, seemingly amused for all that the illusionist's demeanor would imply otherwise. So does his voice dance to the same beat. Crossing his legs at their ankles, he returns with a blithe, "Two silvers and a copper, Shogun-san, but only if one asks politely." The grin blackens for the briefest of instants before Tomo stops babbling and grows serious, averting his gaze again while taking one of his feathers in hand and twisting it between his fingers. "A monk, or something of the like, tried to skewer me with his staff. He didn't succeed very well." Which is why Tomo's looking somewhere else.

The flippant comment does not phase the Shogun, for little does. And so the comment regarding the humor of one Tomo is left behind for other subjects. The illusionist's contrary silence leaves the Shogun waiting with seeming patience below, staring up at him as if he mimicked another statue within the garden. Only the cool breeze that speaks of spring's longing reveals him to be more than stone, winding through his robes to delicately puff outward before falling back against his frame again. His eyes speak nothing of impatience or ire at Tomo's next flippant comment. Lips curl slightly upward as he chuckles. "Is that so, Tomo?"
The character, kokoro, appears suddenly on the Hin's forehead, its azure glow a beacon in the growing twilight. The man himself does not perform any sort of fanciful moves or part his lips to even so much as speak. Chi gathers briefly, but is only channeled in a trickle, telekinetic powers prodding at the very spot that Tomo seems to find so delicate and painful at the moment. As if he stood right next to the man and could just suddenly -grab- that spot to test how well this monk succeeded in harming the illusionist.

As a cerulean candle shines amidst the shadows befalling the Imperial gardens, any feigning of disinterest is quickly discontinued in light (pun unintended) of this development, Tomo looking quickly to Nakago as the spending of ki catches his attention. Eyes are too quickly rounded, stress lining the perfectly applied layer of make up an instant before the painted mask becomes one of startled pain. Beneath the vivid silk are bandages that wrap all around the young man's slender frame, hugging against not only the torn flesh only recently considered 'healed,' but bones made brittle by the fall that the illusionist had suffered on top of everything else. A fall that he neglected to mention, and would have gladly have let remained thus, but any preconcieved notion of keeping his injuries to himself is ruined with a sharp gasp that accompanies a brief bowing of the young man's frame, an arm moved to hug his midsection. "--N-Nakago-sama!" is forced out, sharply. Golden eyes flash in the dark, narrow, angry and uncertain at the same time. If Nakago had been /anyone/ else--

Having been as silent and as patient as can be, Sephiroth has watched this exchange with a sharpening of attention. He hadn't much cared about what the two of you were talking about before, but as Nakago decides to prod Tomo in this manner there is a quite a lot of interest indeed. Green eyes brighten in the dimness of the garden as he slowly rises to his feet. There is a threat here.. all unspoken for all he only stands and doesn't move from that spot the man's stance changes drastically. He's never done this here before in this place. Never taken a stance hat screams of a readiness to fight and to kill and of tension. Every bit of it is directed at you, Nakago, and all for having prodded a slender illusionist.
Sephiroth has never challenged Nakago before, but there is no doubt about what he's doing now. There is no need for words as he tells you 'Do not do that.'. The wind that played with blond locks now lifts silver and spreads it out and slightly to one side on a black clad figure. It ripples gently, all at odds with the tension singing through leanly muscled limbs.

Chi released, channeling completed, Nakago seems wholly amused, but it is dark. Truly, the Hin is not really amused at all. He does not hold on long, or attempt to cause any real damage to Tomo. The character disappears, fading out like someone snuffed a candle. "Tomo-san," he says quietly, though the weight to his words is there without the need to raise his voice, "It is better that you are honest with me. Perhaps if your injuries are grave enough, you should be resting. I do not wish to travel into Konan to drag the Healer back for you, should your wounds fester enough to warrant it. Prevention is far better, ne?" That was the purpose to this, really. Though he is the master of lies and manipulation himself, he has no appreciation for it being returned to him, not when he can see right through it. His stance and tone of voice have noticably changed, a solititous tenor replacing the original dark humor.
Sensing movement, Nakago shifts slightly now to regard Sephiroth. Curiosity, that's really the only change in his expression. Interesting, how this white haired man reacts when Tomo is thusly prodded. This reaction is noted and tucked away into the insightful mind of his, the part of him that observes such human behaviors and learns quickly how to manipulate them. He recognizes the threat for what it is, and that ghostly smile returns briefly to his lips, not a word said, but his expression says enough: How interesting. But, the kokoro does not appear again, nor does the Shogun appear about to move against the former ShinRa General. While one is tense, the other is perfectly relaxed.

Like an irreverant child who's been caught skipping class, desperate to avoid accusation as he diverts attention by placing the blame on the teacher, the school, the other kids, society, and the fact that he can never find a window seat on the bus, Tomo snaps a somewhat harshly hissed, "I was resting!" in the aftermath. Really, getting Tomo to admit the truth in any situation is like yanking teeth from an unstrapped patient without the benefit of painkillers to keep them docile. The young man himself is a walking bundle of lies, each carefully constructed to protect him from just such occurances like this. A pity that the physical had to intervene, or else he might have gotten away with it as he has every other time. "There is hardly anything strenuous about sitting around, watching the sun set. It isn't as serious as all that..." The young man despises being looked down upon. The pain is not incredible, but enough to grate the words as they spill out through the performer's teeth, chattering even in the midst of wincing against the stubborn ache that's left now to chew on the flesh beneath his ribcage.
Something besides physical pain flickers behind Tomo's golden eyes, shadows thickening the oranged amber hue and taking from them their metallic shine, replaced with an illusion of cold solidity that hides from the world what thoughts lurk behind the young man's gaze. The message in the gesture was clearly understood, but it hurts nevertheless. Nor does the expression fade as the third silent member of this party draws attention to his person, the illusionist's eyes turning toward him and staying there, looking a moment's worth more distraught for having seen Sephiroth's willingness to intervene in that single movement than he had been before. Swallowing, then rocking unsteadily to his feet, so that he stands upon the rooftop rather than sits and holds his stomach, his stance not in the least bit as dignified as Tomo would like it to be, but endured anyway, the illusionist adds, like a recalcitrant child, "It was hardly necessary, Nakago-sama."

Since Nakago stopped there will be no conflict, however the warning still lingers. Act as relaxed as you like, this man knows that if the two of you clash there will be a great deal of mayhem and destruction. Might even give him the first challenge he's ever had in his life. Sephiroth has never met another that could match him in his ability to be able to fight, but some of that has to do with the fact he doesn't go around picking fights. This time though he will make something of an exception.... but only if Tomo is further harmed. That is the only reason why this started and the only reason as to why he keeps his tension. The SOLDIER is very serious here, lifting his chin and watching the Shogun calmly and levely. Two opposites; one relaxed and the other tensed. Has to be rather strange to watch. A challenge presented and yet not taken. Then nothing forced.
As Tomo replies and makes his protests there is no response from the white haired man by the lovers tree. He holds his stance and his place, waiting to see if Nakago will rise to this challenge. It would be better if the shogun didn't.. for the whole city more than each other, but Sephiroth WILL fight for Tomo. Doesn't matter if Nakago learns of this weakness for it had always been only a matter of time. The collar at his throat doesn't change tempo for all that he's tense and ready, nor do the man's glowing eyes leave Nakago. Tomo can whine as he will.

If there's one thing Nakago is very good at, it's blanketing someone in the cold truth of a situation. Hence, he shakes his head slightly at Tomo, recognizing that stubborn willfulness to continue hiding the truth, no matter that it has been completely unmasked. The actor who doesn't wish to quite relieve himself of his role. Oh yes, it was necessary, if for no other reason than for the Hin to remind Tomo that he is not one who can be easily deceieved, not even by an actor who can craft such devious illusions. Sephiroth is ignored yet again, even though he is obviously standing there, tense stance issuing a challenge without a spoken word. If the two actually did battle it out, well, the city would probably feel as if two creatures the size of Godzilla battled it out on their homes. Nakago vs. Sephiroth? Heavens forbid these two ever fight. The Hin would be just as surprised as the former General, for he considers himself the top of the food chain, powerwise.
But, the Shogun doesn't rise to the bait, replying to Tomo instead. "The truth sometimes hurts, Tomo-san. If your wounds are such, perhaps you should not be perching on roofs. What would Yui-sama say if she knew you were doing this, hn? Please come down." Please? Nakago said -please-? Yes, he did, and even has a hand lifted up toward the illusionist as if he meant to aid him. Kokoro appears on his forehead again, ki gathered but not channeled. Should Tomo at all act like he will fall, then he will not.

Life is far more interesting when lived through masks, and far more safe. It doesn't matter if the character is hurt so long as the actor survives to play another day. Or so Tomo would like to believe. What's very real, however, is the discomfort made evident in dark yellow eyes, an unease born of the prodding that bore the tension now hanging over the scene like a thick, leaden weight; if there is one thing that Tomo most certainly doesn't want to happen, it's to see these two clash. Random destruction, mayhem, and violence galore are certainly wondrous things to watch, but the personal implications and decisions that would be forced upon the illusionist are not ones he's particularly enthused about dealing with. Ever the coward. As it stands, with one heathen general challenging another, especially over the youngest present's welfare, he is hard-pressed not to flee the scene and pretend to be apart from it all anyway. Next time he will choose a less obvious place to seek solitude.
A bitter laugh rises, hoarse. "Nakago-sama, there are few people whose words could bother me, and you know as well as I that Seiryuu no Miko-san is not one of them." There is a defined respect inside the illusionist for the girl's mettle, but that's all. It's the please that gets him, golden eyes blinking as they turn from the sight of Sephiroth emanating his reserved hostility, looking down to Nakago and the proffered hand lifted up to his person. He hesitates noticably, then leaps down from the rooftop of the pavilion; there's no fall at all, merely a graceful descent broken as he stumbles a bit, again reminded that such things are not recommended when one is injured; but as before, he too quickly acts as if nothing is wrong. He doesn't want anyone's help right now.
Once on the ground, Tomo doesn't move, gaze surreptiously shifting from one to the other. Nakago may be ignoring Sephiroth, but the illusionist isn't. He's all too aware of them both; there are few times when the Seiryuu Shichiseishi's arrogance wanes enough to let him respect others' power, and this is one such time, enough to make him want to be elsewhere. Not that this is hinted at in anything besides body language. Quietly, he mutters, covering for his discomfort with the familiar string of words, "And where would you have me be but holed up in my chambers until some idiot doctor gave me the correct bill of health? Saa... It wouldn't have hurt at all if it was left be." Whining? Him? "All you had to say was, 'Tomo, get off the roof.'"

Since he's being ignored again Sephiroth goes back to his waiting stance. The man is still very much watching what is going on, but the threat calms some as he shifts to one side and leans back against the tuck of the tree. Fingers are threaded together before his abdomen, thumbs brushing against one another lightly. No, as a matter of fact he isn't going to do anything. So long as Nakago deals out no more harm to Tomo there won't be any problem. How you two deal with one another is your own business, but he will not sit idly by and watch the illusionist harmed. La de da. ;) Just leaning there watching.

"And it would not have been half as interesting. Had you been honest about such from the beginning, no prodding on my part would have been necessary," Nakago responds wryly, letting his hand fall back to his side without a wince or even so much as a flinch as he sees the illusionist come to the ground with that obvious stumble. If Tomo wishes to be a baka about it, then so be it. And that's how he feels about that. Kokoro disappears again, for there is no longer a need to grasp at chi or channel anything. "And I'm sure Yui-sama would be so disappointed to hear that." Nothing ernst in his voice about that, however. He's largely ambiguous when it comes to the Miko and that makes it a bit difficult to assess his true feelings about her. "I would not require you to be held to a bed, Tomo, but I would prefer you stay off the roof and give yourself proper time to heal."
"Sir!" a breathless voice calls, feet pattering across the walkway of the dormant garden as a pair of soldiers stride forward, moving at a pace that bespeaks urgency. They pause and dart furtive glances toward Tomo, who is rather well known for making the lives of many in the palace miserable, but largely their attention is on the Shogun as they salute to him. "The Emperor has requested an audience with you, at once." The pair have been looking all over the place for Nakago, not expecting to find him in the garden, of all places. The Shogun turns toward them and the smallest hint of a frown crosses his lips before he steels his expression back toward cool neutrality. Oh how he'd love to just dispose of that fat lazy Emperor now... -.- But, it is not to be. Yet. Patience, Tenkou advises, paaaaaatience. "If you will excuse me, Tomo-sama," is said toward the illusionist and unless detained further, he drifts after the soldiers, cloak billowing behind him.

Unwilling to concede the point, but not particularly wanting to prolong the pointless argument any farther, Tomo merely lets slip a derisive snort and says nothing more on the subject on whether or not he should have owned up to the truth from the very beginning. "I'm sure," is remarked with a brief lightening of tone, dry with a humour that is briefly felt before it fades like all the rest, leaving a far more serious expression worn as Tomo lifts his gaze to Nakago's blue-eyed regard and steadies it there, a subtle crease warping the red dot painted at the center of his brow as he suppresses the urge to frown again. Tomo eyes his Shogun for quite a few beats before inclining his head in a slow nod, feathers drifting lazily with the movement. He's even polite in agreeing. "Yes, sir." He'll stay off the rooftops. Sephiroth's presence is actually forgotten now as well, something flickering behind eyes darkened by thought and emotion, uncertainty and wariness walking arm-in-arm while something deeper tags behind. What does it matter to Nakago if Tomo watches himself or not? Why so much effort placed in that simple gesture? The illusionist thought he understood, but the cordiality now surprises him.
So the interruption of the soldiers is not an unwelcome one. On any other evening, Tomo would resent having a moment alone with the Shogun invaded, but the aforementioned Hin has succeeded in thoroughly confusing the illusionist and now he's grateful for the distraction. Schooling his own expression into one of detached unreadability, lest the soldiers get any clue toward the tension riding the air, the only change comes when Nakago takes his leave. A nod; the illusionist murmurs, "Of course." As if he could stop him anyway. Tomo keeps his eyes on the caped, yellow-haired figure as the man moves away, then drops his gaze, rubbing gingerly at his wrapped abdomen. Only after a moment or two does he look back over his shoulder, remembering the other person that was here. Still there?