Lyla was slow to descend the stairs the next morning, the renewed throbbing in her head keeping her from functioning as well as she would have liked. Maybe it had been a mistake to join Reno and Rude in the bar the night before, but to be honest, with all that had been going on this past week, she needed a drink worse than she ever had, that she could remember, in her admittedly short life. Her vision wasn't quite swimming, and thanks to another pair of aspirin, the throbbing pain was receding to a dull ache, and she decided, as she made her way to the inn's lobby, that it had been worth it.
Clarise was in a coat and high boots, brushing the snow from the ruff of white that hugged her neck. She peeped out over the fluff, shoving her goggles up to get a better look at Lyla as she descended.
"Rough night?" She guessed, lips drawing into a small line of curiosity.
The brunette looked up from the seat she had approached, paused midway through pulling her computer from the bag she had set at her feet. "You could say that," she said rather morosely, reaching to tuck her hair behind her ear, revealing faint circles under her eyes. "Just didn't sleep too well."
"Well, that's not what I usually hear." She snorted and paused, unwilling to cough a white puffball up, despite her lungs sudden insistence. After a moment to swallow she shoved the collar down again, trotting behind Lyla to peek over her shoulder. "Work?"
"Mhm," Lyla confirmed, settling the computer into her lap and opening it. "In a manner of speaking. ... we need a new destination, so I'm going to look to the news. See if there are any reports on our runaway."
"This... is going to be a long trip, isn't it." The ginger guessed with a soft sigh, pushing her eyewear up into her hair.
"It seems like it could be. There's a lot to be done," Lyla went on to explain, her voice growing less pained the more she spoke, narrowing her eyes as she brought up a number of news sites. She pulled a pair of reading glasses from her bag without looking, smoothing her hair back after putting them on. "You sound disappointed?"
"Well, I guess it doesn't -really- matter either way." She said reasonably, lifting up in her high-heeled boots to get a better view of the screen. "Have to move, in any case. So, uhm. What kind of runaway are we talking about here? A giant tentacled... thingie?"
"Have to mo- are you coming along?" Lyla glanced up from her screen, eyeing Clarise as best she could without straining her neck, a difficult feat looking over her shoulder. "... how did Reno and Rude manage that, I wonder. Oh, our runaway is - well. A person of some notoriety. ... he'll be recognized wherever he goes, which is why I'm checking the news first."
"Wow. Doesn't that sound super-special comforting." She frowned, dropping down onto her heels again. "And show stopping as the big guy is, it wasn't their idea."
"If you're coming with us, you deserve not to be coddled. We're chasing after- no? Was it the president's?" the brunette asked with genuine interest.
"Apparently the Turks file for crap."
She laughed, turning her attention back to the computer screen. "Why am I not surprised? Well. Welcome aboard. Brace yourself, you'll probably hear a lot of things you really don't want to as the trip goes on."
"Well isn't that just the story of my life," Clarise smirked, not laying as heavily into the dramatics as she would have liked, honestly. Something about the situation was just too morbidly funny.
Lyla shrugged, scrolling to the end of one page before clicking over to the next. "Just warning you, that's all. ... oh! Hey, here's something." She leaned in slightly, pushing her glasses up her nose as she read the headline over twice. 'Sephiroth Lookalike Spotted in Junon; Three Witnesses Speak Up.'
"Junon?" Clarise murmured, straightening up, even as she set her weight to one side. If the fact that they were looking for Sephiroth had sunk in, her face gave no immediate indication. But then, she had left the company before wide-spread discussion of his return. "You came up here, looking for someone in Junon?"
"No. He was in this area," Lyla corrected her, her tone somewhat distracted as she read. "We met him. He ran off afterward. I'm just trying to find out where to. I doubt he'll remain in Junon very long, but if there's another sighting or two, I might be able to predict where he's headed next."
Clarise turned a somewhat disbelieving stare on the back of Lyla's head.
"I can feel you staring. Did you have a question?"
"You know what? No. I do not." She pulled the goggles back down. "Less I know, the safer I feel. I'm gonna go pack a shotgun." She said, turning on her heel.
"Saw off the end," Lyla informed her, deadpan as she clicked over to the next article. "I hear it makes a bigger hole."
"Yeah." She agreed almost flippantly. "The buckshot helps."
"So I've heard."
Clarise opened her mouth, but the squeak of the stairs distracted the commentary, if only for a moment. She half turned, casting a curious eye up the thin flight.
Vincent paused mid-step as he felt sudden attention on him. He frowned down at the ginger, continuing on after a beat.
Lyla's attention was also drawn upwards for a moment; she averted her eyes and fixed them very decidedly on her screen once she spotted the figure on the stairs, fumbling to push her glasses up into her hair before setting herself to typing.
"Mornin', ladies," Cid announced from behind Vincent, catching himself against the railing to avoid crashing into his friend when he paused in the middle of the staircase, continuing when the way was clear.
"Good morning," Clarise offered with a slight trill, resetting herself into watching Lyla.
Then blinked, owlishly, and leaned forward.
"Hunny," she whispered, "Why are you typing 'oh god oh god oh god oh god' over and over?"
"Because," Lyla began evenly, her voice low, though not quite a whisper, "I'm neurotic. It's debilitating."
Cid raised a brow at the pair of them as he reached the bottom of the stairs, pulling a single cigarette from his front pocket and settling it between his lips, whipping his lighter out immediately afterward and putting it to use. "Guess the others're late risers?"
"Nae," Cait Sith offered, climbing up onto the table in front of Lyla from god-knew-where. "Jes' more'n a lil'l bit hung over, lad."
Clarise stared at him.
"Oh!" Cait Sith tipped his crown. "G'day lassie."
"Good... uhm. Day."
Lyla paused in her constant clicking to peer at Cait Sith over the top of her monitor. "Oh. Good morning."
"Gotta admit, I'm surprised yer up so early, lassie." the robot told her, leaning over the top of the screen.
The brunette blinked at him in reply, fixing her eyes on the screen again even as she went on to answer. "I don't sleep very much. Means I'm more of a morning person than I'd like to be, sometimes."
Cid nudged Vincent with his elbow as he passed. "I'm gettin' coffee, you wan' any?"
"Please." He said in the same, even tone as always, though the cat fancied it was somewhat flat, for whatever reason.
"Woulda thought ye'd be laid out flat what with all th'drinkin' ye did las'night, though." He continued blithely.
"Sure, be righ' back," the pilot assured him, heading towards a room where he had just seen one of the inn's employees disappear with two full pots of coffee. Not today, bellhop. Not today.
Lyla looked up again, expression perfectly blank before she turned on her sweetest smile, though weariness tugged at the rest of her features. "How kind of you to be concerned," she began evenly. "I can hold my liquor."
"Holdin' an' caravanin' are two different things, lassie." Cait Sith chirruped.
Clarise took a step away from the whole thing, and couldn't plainly justify why. But it bumped her into the tall, stoic looking man just to their left, and she overcompensated the next two steps to bring her 'round to face him.
"Oh!" She said with a point, "I know you!"
"Cait," Lyla went on, as though about to ask the cat for a favor. She carefully lifted her computer from her lap and closed it, setting it on the table in front of her. "Would you join me outside for a few minutes? I need to talk to you in private. I have a message for Reeve."
Vincent opened his mouth, but he had already lost the blond's attention as she turned to eye Lyla. And he had to admit, he couldn't blame her. He felt an aura of impending doom suddenly surge into being all around them.
"Aye?" The cat asked.
"Here," the brunette offered, picking the cat up and cradling him in one arm as she got to her feet, making her way to the front door and disappearing through it. She could be seen passing the window to the left, out of sight by the time the mechanical yowling sounded, followed by the screeching of a number of gears being crushed all at once, and a loud thunk.
She reappeared a moment later, going back to her seat and opening her computer again as though nothing had happened.
Clarise and Vincent were still staring at her when the others arrived.
"Is there something on my face?" she asked without looking up, deadpan as she continued to browse through current news stories. Cid looked perplexed when he returned, a cup of coffee in each hand, holding one out to Vincent as he took a long sip from the other.
"What're we lookin' at?"
The gunman took his and began to drink from it without actually taking his eyes off the woman at the computer.
Below him, the recently returned secretary cleared her throat, whirling on one high-heeled boot. "Him." She said, jerking her thumb in Vincent's direction. "It was definitely him. Not Lyla. At all."
Cid looked his friend over, appraising him. "Doesn't look any funnier than usual," he pointed out, taking another long sip of his coffee. Behind him, Reno appeared at the bottom of the staircase, yawning and rubbing at the back of his neck as he joined the group.
"Mornin'. Damn, Caraway, no hangover? You were almost on the floor last night," the redhead observed, stifling another yawn before running his fingers through his hair a few times, adjusting the glasses that sat atop his head afterwards.
"More of a man than you are, apparently," she said distractedly. "Hold on, I'm looking for something."
"It is an oil stain remover?" Clarise asked, looking over her shoulder.
"No," came Lyla's clipped response, clicking a few more times and biting at her lower lip as she skimmed another article. Rufus had brought up the rear of the group, making it down the last few steps by running his right hand along the railing with his cane in his left. "Ah, here we go. In the last 24 hours, Sephiroth has been spotted in Kalm, near Fort Condor, and more recently in Junon. There have been a number of sightings there, two of which are at the harbor. It looks like he's moving west, though I don't know why he would bother with a ship. I don't think he would."
"Costa Del Sol." Rude observed, straightening a cufflink as he spoke.
Clarise jumped, looking their number over in an effort to place the voice.
"Sounds like the next stop, logically," Rufus interjected, coming to a stop beside Reno and Rude. "As we have the airship, we can get there in relatively short order. Ask around for information, see if we can follow him more closely, if not beat him there." He paused, surveying all those assembled. "Where is Caith Sith?"
Vincent and Clarise exchanged a look.
"We should hurry, then."
"I'll let them know I'm out of here!"
They spoke at the same time, turning in opposite directions, though one perhaps more quickly than the other.
"Hey... yeah... where's my little buddy?" Reno asked, frowning as he rubbed at the back of his neck again.
"Dead," Lyla said plainly, closing her computer and tucking it back into her bag, followed by her glasses, which returned to their home in the front pocket.
"Robots don't die," Reno said pointedly. "... of natural causes."
"Apparently they're allergic to having their heads crushed and being thrown into a snowbank. Go figure, right?"
Rude frowned at her, perhaps in disapproval of robotic murder, though if it was, he didn't come out and say so.
Rufus cleared his throat. "Well. ... at least we know we won't be leaving him behind."
Cid grumbled faintly as he downed the rest of his coffee, setting the cup aside on the nearest table before pulling his goggles down over his eyes. "Truth be told, not gonna miss him. I'll go get the ship warmed up. Got a long flight 'head of us."