Sector 5, Midgar, 7:10 PM
Who: Vincent Valentine, Reeve Tuesti
Status: Open by phonecall.
When: 7:10 PM
Where: Sector 5, Midgar
What: Undercover barhopping? Not quite Vincent's style, but he's willing to go certain lengths to remain undisturbed.
::Thread ended at 8:45 PM::
CRASH went the mixture of thunder and lightning, with air that already smelled like crisp rain even though a drop had yet to hit the ground. Vincent leaned his back against the cool brick wall, shoving both hands deep into the recesses of the pockets of the large leather jacket he wore. The entrance of the bar was sheltered by an overhang, but that hardly protected him from the chill of the evening and the wind that had been picking up. By habit, he wanted to cover the lower half of his face, but the high collar of his crimson turtleneck only went up so far before it threatened to expose his midriff. So he let it be, feeling entirely too exposed without the heaviness of his cloak and leather body suit. All traditional clothing had been sacrificed except for the combat boots (metal plating having been taken off) and the gold of his prosthetic, carefully hidden by a glove he was sure to tear through sometime during the night. Even his forehead felt cold, despite the bangs swept over to cover it.
All of this to spend several hours in the warm bar inside the building he leaned against. Not inside yet, due to Reeve not being present. Vincent removed his human hand from his pocket, retrieving his cellphone and pressing a button on the side to light up the small LCD screen. 7:10 PM. He'd give Reeve five more minutes before going inside.
Another flash and sound of lightning as well as a gust of particularly strong wind, and he reduced the wait to two more minutes.
Status: Open by phonecall.
When: 7:10 PM
Where: Sector 5, Midgar
What: Undercover barhopping? Not quite Vincent's style, but he's willing to go certain lengths to remain undisturbed.
::Thread ended at 8:45 PM::
CRASH went the mixture of thunder and lightning, with air that already smelled like crisp rain even though a drop had yet to hit the ground. Vincent leaned his back against the cool brick wall, shoving both hands deep into the recesses of the pockets of the large leather jacket he wore. The entrance of the bar was sheltered by an overhang, but that hardly protected him from the chill of the evening and the wind that had been picking up. By habit, he wanted to cover the lower half of his face, but the high collar of his crimson turtleneck only went up so far before it threatened to expose his midriff. So he let it be, feeling entirely too exposed without the heaviness of his cloak and leather body suit. All traditional clothing had been sacrificed except for the combat boots (metal plating having been taken off) and the gold of his prosthetic, carefully hidden by a glove he was sure to tear through sometime during the night. Even his forehead felt cold, despite the bangs swept over to cover it.
All of this to spend several hours in the warm bar inside the building he leaned against. Not inside yet, due to Reeve not being present. Vincent removed his human hand from his pocket, retrieving his cellphone and pressing a button on the side to light up the small LCD screen. 7:10 PM. He'd give Reeve five more minutes before going inside.
Another flash and sound of lightning as well as a gust of particularly strong wind, and he reduced the wait to two more minutes.