maybe one day we'll find a better way
Who: Vincent, Sephiroth, WEAPON
Status: Closed
When: 6:10 PM
Where: Border of Sector 4 and 5, near the edge of the city.
What: A fleeing WEAPON runs into Vincent, bringing with it a certain ex-General. Oh, shi-
Warnings: Violence, blood, gore, et cetera, blatant abuse of all body parts.
The sun, with the shortening day, had already slipped under the horizon by the time Vincent had stepped onto the invisible line between Sectors 4 and 5, the surrounding area of Edge far to his left and the rest of the city on his right. After his encounter with Forgiveness, he had returned to his apartment to rest away the next hour or two before grabbing a quick meal and returning to patrol. He had tailed one of the WRO groups for a time, then left on his own again - bringing him to where he was now. He raised his head from the folds of his cloak (such little buffer it provided against the cold wind that raised his hair from his body, but it hardly mattered) and gazed around for a quiet moment.
He debated calling one of the others, to check upon them and see if they were all right. But even as his human hand drifted towards the electronic tucked in his pocket, it paused over the thing. Well. They would call him if something went awry, wouldn't they?
He took his hand away, securing another belt closed on his cloak before continuing on.
Status: Closed
When: 6:10 PM
Where: Border of Sector 4 and 5, near the edge of the city.
What: A fleeing WEAPON runs into Vincent, bringing with it a certain ex-General. Oh, shi-
Warnings: Violence, blood, gore, et cetera, blatant abuse of all body parts.
The sun, with the shortening day, had already slipped under the horizon by the time Vincent had stepped onto the invisible line between Sectors 4 and 5, the surrounding area of Edge far to his left and the rest of the city on his right. After his encounter with Forgiveness, he had returned to his apartment to rest away the next hour or two before grabbing a quick meal and returning to patrol. He had tailed one of the WRO groups for a time, then left on his own again - bringing him to where he was now. He raised his head from the folds of his cloak (such little buffer it provided against the cold wind that raised his hair from his body, but it hardly mattered) and gazed around for a quiet moment.
He debated calling one of the others, to check upon them and see if they were all right. But even as his human hand drifted towards the electronic tucked in his pocket, it paused over the thing. Well. They would call him if something went awry, wouldn't they?
He took his hand away, securing another belt closed on his cloak before continuing on.