(no subject)
Cyr was bored.
No, that wasn't the word.
Cyr was tired.
Not physically tired, although her work was demanding, but tired of her world, of Midgar, the slums, SHINRA... even of the people.
Oh, the people of her world were interesting - fascinating, really. But there was no incentive or drive to know them better - just polite smiles and small talk in the break room, sipping lukewarm coffee from foam cups as the dawn sky lightened from black to grey. Not that it was ever truly dark in Midgar - the light emitted from the city seemed to push back the darkness of the sky.
And it was in the SHINRA break room that Cyr, the only occupant of the room currently, was watching the sky slowly lighten, slowly realizing the miasma she was under.
In a nutshell, she reflected, she had stalled. She was going nowhere fast, figuratively speaking.
She would've left months ago. She should have left months ago. But she had stayed.
Why?
Why did she stay? Because there was nowhere she could go? Who was she waiting for?
After all, what could Planet hold for her?
She was empty, going through the motions of living with no fulfillment.
Cyr set the half-finished cup of tepid coffee on the counter, solemnly watching the sky fade to a pale gray.
Perhaps it is time to leave.
But where would she go? Who could she turn to?
The Nexus.
After all, she was - is - a mercenary. She was no stranger to dirty jobs, having worked as SHINRA's guard dogs for nearly two, three years. She was used to being despised, hated.
Her mind was made up. Go now, with no delay - she was leaving Planet as soon as she could. There was nothing to hold her back.
Turning from the window, Cyr walked briskly to the door, out of the door, the soles of her shoes on the linoleum resounding softly throughout the room, as her coffee, sitting forgotten on the counter, cooled - the only sign of anyone having been in the room.
No, that wasn't the word.
Cyr was tired.
Not physically tired, although her work was demanding, but tired of her world, of Midgar, the slums, SHINRA... even of the people.
Oh, the people of her world were interesting - fascinating, really. But there was no incentive or drive to know them better - just polite smiles and small talk in the break room, sipping lukewarm coffee from foam cups as the dawn sky lightened from black to grey. Not that it was ever truly dark in Midgar - the light emitted from the city seemed to push back the darkness of the sky.
And it was in the SHINRA break room that Cyr, the only occupant of the room currently, was watching the sky slowly lighten, slowly realizing the miasma she was under.
In a nutshell, she reflected, she had stalled. She was going nowhere fast, figuratively speaking.
She would've left months ago. She should have left months ago. But she had stayed.
Why?
Why did she stay? Because there was nowhere she could go? Who was she waiting for?
After all, what could Planet hold for her?
She was empty, going through the motions of living with no fulfillment.
Cyr set the half-finished cup of tepid coffee on the counter, solemnly watching the sky fade to a pale gray.
Perhaps it is time to leave.
But where would she go? Who could she turn to?
The Nexus.
After all, she was - is - a mercenary. She was no stranger to dirty jobs, having worked as SHINRA's guard dogs for nearly two, three years. She was used to being despised, hated.
Her mind was made up. Go now, with no delay - she was leaving Planet as soon as she could. There was nothing to hold her back.
Turning from the window, Cyr walked briskly to the door, out of the door, the soles of her shoes on the linoleum resounding softly throughout the room, as her coffee, sitting forgotten on the counter, cooled - the only sign of anyone having been in the room.