Vergil was supposed to meet him beyond the boundaries of Shinra HQ, adhering to their clockwork agreement like so many times before. He’s worked with the other man for a few weeks now, and while that’s not enough to develop true trust — especially for an individual like Sephiroth, who opens up only with time, and trusts completely in small increments — the other man had seemed reliable. No nonsense, straight to the point. All characteristics that Sephiroth could appreciate, that made him easier to work with than most of Midgar’s populace who always expected just a little more from him in turn.
Shinra included.
But he wasn’t there two days ago. Same spot yesterday, same time, and he’s just as missing. Today, he chooses not to stand around and wait, instead taking to Midgar’s murky streets, eyes scanning for anyone familiar.
He isn’t the usual visitor to the slums, or anywhere in the close vicinity. In this sector, he can feel every person’s eyes on his back, and it funnels him deeper into military professionalism, stone-cold and unapproachable. It works — there are only whispers of his passing, but none are bold enough to walk up to him, not even the children. Not when he looks like there’s something he’s seeking, suffering no interruptions.
For a long while there’s nothing, just a struggling populace and night threatening to overtake Midgar. But finally, down an alleyway, he sees a familiar stature, a familiar shock of white hair, and his gait turns, hastens, and he calls out with each syllable shearing outbound through the air—]
Where have you been? If our arrangement is suddenly disagreeable to you, I expect communication on that front.
got no more shelter, no more sun.
Vergil was supposed to meet him beyond the boundaries of Shinra HQ, adhering to their clockwork agreement like so many times before. He’s worked with the other man for a few weeks now, and while that’s not enough to develop true trust — especially for an individual like Sephiroth, who opens up only with time, and trusts completely in small increments — the other man had seemed reliable. No nonsense, straight to the point. All characteristics that Sephiroth could appreciate, that made him easier to work with than most of Midgar’s populace who always expected just a little more from him in turn.
Shinra included.
But he wasn’t there two days ago. Same spot yesterday, same time, and he’s just as missing. Today, he chooses not to stand around and wait, instead taking to Midgar’s murky streets, eyes scanning for anyone familiar.
He isn’t the usual visitor to the slums, or anywhere in the close vicinity. In this sector, he can feel every person’s eyes on his back, and it funnels him deeper into military professionalism, stone-cold and unapproachable. It works — there are only whispers of his passing, but none are bold enough to walk up to him, not even the children. Not when he looks like there’s something he’s seeking, suffering no interruptions.
For a long while there’s nothing, just a struggling populace and night threatening to overtake Midgar. But finally, down an alleyway, he sees a familiar stature, a familiar shock of white hair, and his gait turns, hastens, and he calls out with each syllable shearing outbound through the air—]
Where have you been? If our arrangement is suddenly disagreeable to you, I expect communication on that front.