(no subject)
Who: Zack
Status: Closed~
When: 10:03 AM
Where: Outskirts of Edge
What: Zack gets caught up on current events, still braving the city by himself.
Drug addicts. Thieves. Thugs. Once you flipped the new coin up, it was really just an echo of the same old, dirty counterfeit underneath. After his run-in with Sephiroth, Zack had more or less fallen off the charts, dropped off communication, and taken to the streets. It’d only been a day, but he had had enough of the city all over again. All he really wanted was to arm himself up properly before finding the General and trying to put an end to this whole mess before it got started.
(Though by the looks of things he was already too late. Whatever was up with all the tripped out freaks and even what looked to be armed guards on patrol wasn’t something he supposed was ordinary.)
Maybe it was pride, or some resignation he’d come to, the knowledge that he wasn’t supposed to be alive anymore, but even though he didn’t stand a chance, he couldn’t shake that conviction. Whether or not it was the Lifestream’s intention to use him as a pawn in some bigger game, he seemed dead set on it himself. Aerith was in good company, and there was that big, sentient dragon to boot. Cloud wasn’t a kid anymore (though that would never be a thought that sat quite right with Zack), didn’t need anybody hovering over his shoulder. No, all that was left to drive him was this one unpleasant thing.
The morning paper didn’t do anything for his mood.
Snatching a copy casually off the walk as he passed another stoop, Zack tore off the band and unrolled the paper with a snap. He read as he walked, keeping a cautious eye on the clouds above for the first signs of rain-a quick glance to the forecast had confirmed his suspicions, more of this bad weather. He nearly stumbled out of his boots, though, when he started in on the article that took up most of the front page. A crowd of innocent bystanders had been able to spot Sephiroth purely by accident, while he’d been scouring the city. He never should have guessed “low profile.”
But wasn’t that just like him?
Rolling the newspaper back up and tossing it lightly to the feet of a vagrant lurking in the mouth of a narrow alleyway, Zack winced but kept walking. His shoulder hadn’t seen proper medical care yet, but it wasn’t that big a deal. If memory served, he’d faced worse for longer and come out alive and completely functional. There were still a few good Samaritans hanging around in this mess; the bandages wrapped taut around his wound served testament to that.
Maybe it was stupid. Maybe. But he didn’t have time to think about that, he was already doing a bang-up job for the Planet, here, might as well have sat around for all the good he’d gotten accomplished. By now everyone had to know Sephiroth was back.
Zack swore under his breath and, again without much regard for traffic-both automobile and foot, altered his course abruptly to start back in what he thought was the direction of the bar. As wrong as it felt, the old Shin-Ra training was what spoke to him, now. There was no sense in letting a bunch of kamikazes loose on the same target with no game plan.
So much for that idea. Then again, of course, reason and logic had never been big factors in his plans.
Status: Closed~
When: 10:03 AM
Where: Outskirts of Edge
What: Zack gets caught up on current events, still braving the city by himself.
Drug addicts. Thieves. Thugs. Once you flipped the new coin up, it was really just an echo of the same old, dirty counterfeit underneath. After his run-in with Sephiroth, Zack had more or less fallen off the charts, dropped off communication, and taken to the streets. It’d only been a day, but he had had enough of the city all over again. All he really wanted was to arm himself up properly before finding the General and trying to put an end to this whole mess before it got started.
(Though by the looks of things he was already too late. Whatever was up with all the tripped out freaks and even what looked to be armed guards on patrol wasn’t something he supposed was ordinary.)
Maybe it was pride, or some resignation he’d come to, the knowledge that he wasn’t supposed to be alive anymore, but even though he didn’t stand a chance, he couldn’t shake that conviction. Whether or not it was the Lifestream’s intention to use him as a pawn in some bigger game, he seemed dead set on it himself. Aerith was in good company, and there was that big, sentient dragon to boot. Cloud wasn’t a kid anymore (though that would never be a thought that sat quite right with Zack), didn’t need anybody hovering over his shoulder. No, all that was left to drive him was this one unpleasant thing.
The morning paper didn’t do anything for his mood.
Snatching a copy casually off the walk as he passed another stoop, Zack tore off the band and unrolled the paper with a snap. He read as he walked, keeping a cautious eye on the clouds above for the first signs of rain-a quick glance to the forecast had confirmed his suspicions, more of this bad weather. He nearly stumbled out of his boots, though, when he started in on the article that took up most of the front page. A crowd of innocent bystanders had been able to spot Sephiroth purely by accident, while he’d been scouring the city. He never should have guessed “low profile.”
But wasn’t that just like him?
Rolling the newspaper back up and tossing it lightly to the feet of a vagrant lurking in the mouth of a narrow alleyway, Zack winced but kept walking. His shoulder hadn’t seen proper medical care yet, but it wasn’t that big a deal. If memory served, he’d faced worse for longer and come out alive and completely functional. There were still a few good Samaritans hanging around in this mess; the bandages wrapped taut around his wound served testament to that.
Maybe it was stupid. Maybe. But he didn’t have time to think about that, he was already doing a bang-up job for the Planet, here, might as well have sat around for all the good he’d gotten accomplished. By now everyone had to know Sephiroth was back.
Zack swore under his breath and, again without much regard for traffic-both automobile and foot, altered his course abruptly to start back in what he thought was the direction of the bar. As wrong as it felt, the old Shin-Ra training was what spoke to him, now. There was no sense in letting a bunch of kamikazes loose on the same target with no game plan.
So much for that idea. Then again, of course, reason and logic had never been big factors in his plans.