Shin-Ra Company
Who: Elena
Status: Open to Turks and Rufus
When: 2:37 am
Where: Shin-Ra Company--Elena's private office, Turk lounge
What: Turks get burnout, too.
Sources indicate that Strife submerged body in lake near Forgotten Capitol. Remains never recovered. Interviews with Gainsborough's adopted mother rev--
It had taken Elena twenty minutes to type two-and-a-half sentences. Most of the time, she had been staring blankly at the screen, mind numbed by too much work and not nearly enough caffeine. Her coffee was cold, but that didn't really matter since there's wasn't much left in the mug anyway. It was mostly just the dregs, and she was feeling far too lazy to get up and refill it.
It had taken several hours for her to completely sever all financial ties with the WRO, as the President had requested. She'd had to draft memos and hunt down bank statements and reprogram all the keycard readers in all Shin-Ra properties (though Shin-Ra's holdings were decidedly smaller than they had been before Meteor)...which was going to be hell, come morning. Well...later in the morning, anyway.
Now that all that had been taken care of, she was back on her original task--the dead coming back to life. She was compiling everything she could about Aerith Gainsborough and Zack Fair--everything from the original files that the Turks had kept on them while they were alive (the first time) to elementary school report cards were fair game. Unfortunately, it was proving to be a lot harder than she thought it would be. Both had been experimented on by Hojo, after all, and a lot of what Hojo had done hadn't exactly been Company sanctioned. He'd kept two sets of files--one "clean" set to hand over to the Board, and one set that recorded (in excruciating, sickening detail) exactly what he had done to his "samples." His "personal" files were coded and encrypted up the wazoo, and Elena was starting to feel a sneaking suspicion that he had done that so that he could personally annoy her years later and from beyond the grave. Of the dozens of files she had pulled, she had managed to decode maybe five or six of them. And they were...bad. Really bad. Vivisection and experimentation with mako and...
It had brought back a lot of bad memories for her, too. Memories of those days in the Northern Crater...and of what those Sephiroth-wannabe-freaks had done to her and Tseng.
She empathized with Fair and Gainsborough on more than one level. After going through all that in the name of "science," maybe they did deserve a second chance.
Elena finished typing the sentence, saved the file, and yawned. There is a point at which the brain stops processing higher thought, and she had passed it over an hour ago. She'd literally hit the wall.
It was probably better to cut her losses at this point. She wasn't exactly doing "quality work."
Elena saved the file a second and third time out of force of habit, closed the program, and started to shut down her computer. It wasn't worth it to go home, get two hours of sleep, and then have to wake up again so that she could be back at the office at seven, but she could probably take a nap on one of the couches downstairs. Actually, the more that she thought about it, the more appealing a prospect it became. She flipped open her PHS and shot off a quick message to Reno, informing him of her plans.
Fifteen minutes later, she was lying on the couch, stripped to her undershirt, her blouse wadded up under her head as a pillow and her jacket draped across her shoulders like a blanket. She was fast asleep.
Status: Open to Turks and Rufus
When: 2:37 am
Where: Shin-Ra Company--Elena's private office, Turk lounge
What: Turks get burnout, too.
Sources indicate that Strife submerged body in lake near Forgotten Capitol. Remains never recovered. Interviews with Gainsborough's adopted mother rev--
It had taken Elena twenty minutes to type two-and-a-half sentences. Most of the time, she had been staring blankly at the screen, mind numbed by too much work and not nearly enough caffeine. Her coffee was cold, but that didn't really matter since there's wasn't much left in the mug anyway. It was mostly just the dregs, and she was feeling far too lazy to get up and refill it.
It had taken several hours for her to completely sever all financial ties with the WRO, as the President had requested. She'd had to draft memos and hunt down bank statements and reprogram all the keycard readers in all Shin-Ra properties (though Shin-Ra's holdings were decidedly smaller than they had been before Meteor)...which was going to be hell, come morning. Well...later in the morning, anyway.
Now that all that had been taken care of, she was back on her original task--the dead coming back to life. She was compiling everything she could about Aerith Gainsborough and Zack Fair--everything from the original files that the Turks had kept on them while they were alive (the first time) to elementary school report cards were fair game. Unfortunately, it was proving to be a lot harder than she thought it would be. Both had been experimented on by Hojo, after all, and a lot of what Hojo had done hadn't exactly been Company sanctioned. He'd kept two sets of files--one "clean" set to hand over to the Board, and one set that recorded (in excruciating, sickening detail) exactly what he had done to his "samples." His "personal" files were coded and encrypted up the wazoo, and Elena was starting to feel a sneaking suspicion that he had done that so that he could personally annoy her years later and from beyond the grave. Of the dozens of files she had pulled, she had managed to decode maybe five or six of them. And they were...bad. Really bad. Vivisection and experimentation with mako and...
It had brought back a lot of bad memories for her, too. Memories of those days in the Northern Crater...and of what those Sephiroth-wannabe-freaks had done to her and Tseng.
She empathized with Fair and Gainsborough on more than one level. After going through all that in the name of "science," maybe they did deserve a second chance.
Elena finished typing the sentence, saved the file, and yawned. There is a point at which the brain stops processing higher thought, and she had passed it over an hour ago. She'd literally hit the wall.
It was probably better to cut her losses at this point. She wasn't exactly doing "quality work."
Elena saved the file a second and third time out of force of habit, closed the program, and started to shut down her computer. It wasn't worth it to go home, get two hours of sleep, and then have to wake up again so that she could be back at the office at seven, but she could probably take a nap on one of the couches downstairs. Actually, the more that she thought about it, the more appealing a prospect it became. She flipped open her PHS and shot off a quick message to Reno, informing him of her plans.
Fifteen minutes later, she was lying on the couch, stripped to her undershirt, her blouse wadded up under her head as a pillow and her jacket draped across her shoulders like a blanket. She was fast asleep.