[Day 3, morning] And a red sun rises
Who: Rufus, Elena, anyone else who has been invited to the spaceport or wishes to show up
Where: Spaceport
What: Plans, plans, and more plans. What else is a scheming ex-President good for?
Rating: PG
Warnings: Dun.
He'd slept. Humans needed to, after all, especially humans who had been through a somewhat rough captivity tired out by the events of recent days. But he was still Rufus Shinra, used to an infinite number of late nights, and when he uncurled from the couch in the spaceport, he supposed that only a handful of hours had passed. Night had turned to day at some point, though, and morning light was streaming in.
They'd blundered into the spaceport, himself and Elena, still unable to locate a light source. Rest had seemed the prudent course, the waiting area in the building which sported a few of those generic dispensers and sofas had seemed safe enough to him, even with monsters stalking around outside. And there had been so little they could do before the power came back on. It was pathetic, their reliance on electricity...
uSUC was still down. The screens were blank, and didn't respond to a query from him. The dispensers were powered down, without even the low idling lights.
But first, there was something digging into his thigh. He stood, yanking the object out of his pocket, only to discover that it was the little journal systems that they had been issued with. The network was probably down, what with the power evidently still being off, but--
--it wasn't.
And there was a broadcast, from a most intriguing newcomer.
"Fascinating," he muttered, under his breath, in a voice that suggested it was anything but. A number of people had responded, it seemed, and Rufus ran his eye down the list. Then, pulling up his own journal screen, he began sending out messages of his own.
Where: Spaceport
What: Plans, plans, and more plans. What else is a scheming ex-President good for?
Rating: PG
Warnings: Dun.
He'd slept. Humans needed to, after all, especially humans who had been through a somewhat rough captivity tired out by the events of recent days. But he was still Rufus Shinra, used to an infinite number of late nights, and when he uncurled from the couch in the spaceport, he supposed that only a handful of hours had passed. Night had turned to day at some point, though, and morning light was streaming in.
They'd blundered into the spaceport, himself and Elena, still unable to locate a light source. Rest had seemed the prudent course, the waiting area in the building which sported a few of those generic dispensers and sofas had seemed safe enough to him, even with monsters stalking around outside. And there had been so little they could do before the power came back on. It was pathetic, their reliance on electricity...
uSUC was still down. The screens were blank, and didn't respond to a query from him. The dispensers were powered down, without even the low idling lights.
But first, there was something digging into his thigh. He stood, yanking the object out of his pocket, only to discover that it was the little journal systems that they had been issued with. The network was probably down, what with the power evidently still being off, but--
--it wasn't.
And there was a broadcast, from a most intriguing newcomer.
"Fascinating," he muttered, under his breath, in a voice that suggested it was anything but. A number of people had responded, it seemed, and Rufus ran his eye down the list. Then, pulling up his own journal screen, he began sending out messages of his own.