Quick vignette because I'm dragging my feet on finishing the last three chapters (and epilogue) of 'Repentance'... I'm sad to see it coming to an end, despite that the second installment is right around the corner, but I don't wanna let Yuffie take over my mind! This was originally posted at Professional Fools at http://www.showcasecomics.co.uk/turks/ Not my site, but completely worth a look.

... TO BE A TURK ...

Dusk was settling over the city as he prowled the back alleyways, his precious electro-mag rod balanced on his shoulder, warning Midgar's scum to stay away from the dangerous man in their midst. A thin trail of smoke from his cigarette rose in the air and his polished black shoes clicked on the pavement as he walked ramrod straight, loving the way his sharply pressed navy blue suit hung on his body.

He turned the corner, his senses aware of everything around him and alert for signs of danger. It was a routine mission. The goal: Secure the area. He hadn't had to murder someone in a long time and he was bored.

Boredom and the lack of a partner were getting to him. He missed Loralei. She had always been a speck of brightness in the hard existence he led. She was almost too cheerful to do what they did, but he liked her all the same. She had fallen to a mysterious illness, but the doctors said her chance of recovery was excellent.

He patted the breast pocket of his suit. His gun was there, loaded and ready if he needed it. Reassured, he continued on his prowl, passing by people who nodded to him as he passed.

He was Lock of the Turks. Infamous, feared, intimidating, even admired. He needed no other name than the one. The people of Midgar feared and respected the man that kept harm from befalling them, and no one crossed the Turks. He was a Turk legacy. Despite his mother's wailing objections, he'd joined, following in his father's footsteps.

He passed by a young woman who stood on her usual corner as he passed. She smiled at him as he walked by her, wanting to play with him. He politely declined her offer, telling her, "Another time."

He hopped the fence to his own backyard and tossed the stick stolen from the tree in the neighbor's yard on the bench next to the back door. He dumped the water out of the gun and set it next to the stick. Mom didn't like weapons in her house.

"Go wash up, Nicholas." His mother said as he walked into the house.

"Mom!" He protested as he did every night. "The name's Lock."

She laughed like she did every night. "All right, Lock. Dinner's almost ready. Afterwards, you can take Loralei some of the cookies from that plate. Her mom says she's not contagious anymore."

Lock smiled as he washed his hands and face. Midgar was secure for another day, and his partner was soon to return to active Turk duty. Life was good.

-.-.-.-

This has been floating through my head for two days now. It's not as good as I'd originally envisioned it to be, but I still think it's cute. Look for more of Lock in the future. He's wrapped his way into my head, and he (and Loralei) has a story to tell… in the future. – Aislinn