It's warm.
I don't own anything, anyone or anywhere you recognise. Sapphire, along with a few others who'll crop up every now and then, are mine.
I love it. Like...mostly. I love sitting out in the backyard and just basking in the sunlight. For the first time in my life, I'm not actually ghostly pale. I have a few almost dirty looking tanned patches on both arms. It's a bit gross looking but I'm so proud :'D
It's just night time. Have to sleep with covers because who doesn't love that wrapped-up cuddled feeling! So I leave the windows open to compensate for the heat. But then the entire bug population decides I'm good company x.x
There's just no in-between, when it's warm. Fortunately I live in the UK, so in two days it'll be raining and sad again!
Good grief. I'm so boring, I'm talking about the weather. I'm so sorry. Take this chapter as an apology. Also yay, new plot! And more characters to recognise :D
Chapter 9 - Peekaboo
"Six thousand gil, as promised." The thrice-counted wad of money was placed into Digo's patient hands, who thanked me before starting to flick through the notes.
Just when I had started to feel like I had a healthy cushion of funds developing, thanks to my efforts of accruing money in Costa del Sol with my protracted stay. Every new destination had a new way of leaving me close to penniless. But with the payment of my debts to Digo and Meryl, hopefully I'd stave off bankruptcy for a while longer. My travel to Midgar was secured, with my newly captured and trained chocobo.
It had taken Digo less time to break in and train the chocobo from wild to tame than it had taken me to get to grips with how to make a bird turn the direction I wanted. Acceleration was no problem at all though. Chocobos just seemed to want to run as fast as they could when I was on their backs.
"Have you thought of a name for her yet?" Meryl asked me sweetly, no trace of humour in her voice. Her husband snorted, still with his nose in the gil, drawing my scowl.
"Not yet," I admitted. Meryl pouted at Digo.
"I told you, you've made her second guess now!" she criticised. Digo threw his hands up in the air.
"It was a stupid name! You can defend her rights all you want but a dumb name is a dumb name."
Meryl shook her head, fixing me with a helpless smile. "I think Cobalt would've made a lovely name for her," she offered.
I scratched the back of my neck, shrugging. "Maybe not. Even if it was a good name, actually feels kinda masculine to me now."
Slamming the money on the table, Digo pushed himself to his feet, "Call 'er what you want, the bird's yours. As much as a chocobo can be. Thanks for your business, Mell." He stretched out a hand to shake, which I met and returned with equal vigour.
"Right back at you both," I returned the gratitude with a wide smile, reaching the same hand out to Meryl, which she took as an invitation for a hug. Knocked off-balance slightly, I nudged a foot backwards before returning the hug, slightly uncomfortable but not surprised by her characteristic show of physical affection.
"Can I walk you to the edge of town?" the woman requested, releasing me to spin to face her husband who looked ready to protest. "I have shopping to do, and a cousin to visit. Will just be through town." Digo sighed heavily, which seemed to be interpreted as a resounding yes, because Meryl grabbed my hand and pulled me out of their small but cosy home with a skip in her step. "He's such a worrier," she excused with a laugh.
"Can I help you both with anything before I leave?" I offered, shortening my stride to walk alongside the pregnant woman on our way to their chocobo stables.
"Absolutely not! You've done so much for us already," she refused energetically, with a blatant lie. I had paid for their services and nothing more, while they went above and beyond in delivering what I asked for. "Including giving me an excuse to get out for a walk!"
Frowning, I asked, "You don't have errands to run?"
Meryl laughed, explaining, "I do, but they probably could have waited. Well, the shopping could have. I'm spending as much time with my cousin as I can these days. He doesn't visit often, and doesn't stay long, so I treat him well when he's here in the hopes he'll stay this time."
Her tone, for the first time, lost a little bit of its bouncing cheerfulness - unusual, especially with the chorus of joyous chocobo warks that greeted her. "What does he do?" I asked, unsure if she wanted a listening ear but presuming she wouldn't have brought it up if she didn't.
"He's… a nomad. Like you! I would introduce you, except you might encourage each other," she joked, referencing the five separate conversations we'd had where she tried to convince me to stay, in the five days I'd been here.
"I…" I began awkwardly, unsure how to respond. "I'm not really looking for a companion."
"I'm sure you're not," she agreed with a wide smile. Then again, her mood seemed to turn a little wistful. "Besides, you're going to Midgar. That's the one place he assured me he's not going back to."
"Can't say I blame him," I confessed, good mood souring at the reminder of my destination, and the danger I was wilfully putting myself in. But then I remembered I was acting the eager small-town adventurer, and shrugged, dark cloud evaporating with a smile. "Sounds like a pretty intimidating place, don't think I'd wanna live there for really any length of time."
"Me neither," Meryl agreed contentedly. "All that metal, all the noise and construction… I remember it being kinda rough back when I was little, but at least it had heart, you know?"
Surprised by her seriousness, I said nothing, but nodded. I hadn't spent much time in the city proper, and what time I had spent out of the Shinra building was as good as forgotten. But I distantly recalled the huge cranes, cables, pipes, and so much metal on the train ride in when I joined up. Probably two years ago now. How much more of the mako city had been built in that time?
Meryl laughed, apologising sheepishly as she lavished her attention on one of the chocobos. "If you couldn't tell, I'm more of a country girl."
"That is surprising," I remarked flatly, standing with my arms folded in the middle of the stables, surrounded by the birds all too closely. Sure, I could sorta ride them now, but the more distance between me and them, especially a horde of them, the better.
The older woman studied me with a twinkle in her eye, resting her head on the neck of one of the birds, which trilled softly and curled its head down closer to her. Cute, but better her than me. "You're sure you don't wanna stay another day or two? You really don't look all that comfortable."
Harsh, but fair. "It's just when they're all… clumped together like this. I'll be fine once we get underway." Hey, I nearly convinced myself with that.
"If you're sure," she relented, pointing to the other end of the stables. "Your nameless bird is in the second last stall on the left. Please give her a name!"
"I will," I agreed, approaching the stall. The chocobo seemed happier to see me than I was to see her. Had she forgotten the torture of yesterday's steering lesson? Digo had looked like he couldn't decide between crying with laughter or spitting feathers at my abysmal riding skills. "I only think up the best puns when they're either out of context or no one's around who'll appreciate them, isn't that right?" I sighed, shaking my head at the bird, with my hand tentatively reached out as a greeting for her to approach if she chose to.
She tilted her head, presumably sneering at me for bothering to speak to her in a language she couldn't understand, before drilling her beak into my hand, searching for greens. Friendly enough to warrant a treat, I supposed, so from the small pack of greens Digo had given me at my left hip, I fished out a leaf for her and let her scoff it so fast she probably never tasted it.
"Good nameless girl," Meryl cooed at the chocobo over my shoulder.
"You'd wanna be careful, nameless is starting to have a certain ring to it," I teased, as she handed me the bridle that was hung up on the post outside the stall.
"Try it, I dare you. See what happens." She smiled sweetly at me, though as intimidating as she tried to sound, it wasn't even slightly convincing. She wouldn't hurt a thing. She would, however, give me a job that required getting up close and personal with an untethered chocobo in a confined space.
I frowned down at the bridle, then up at the chocobo, then across at Meryl. "Is there a trick to this I should know?" I asked, having seen Digo do it twenty times or more but never thinking of paying attention before now.
Meryl grinned, answering me, "She'll practically do it herself, just as long as you treat her after. Just hold the bigger loop open for her to put her head into, make sure there's no twists or anything so she's comfortable, then buckle it at the back."
The chocobo pushed her head so fervently into the bridle I held open that I nearly lost my footing. It occurred to me the similarity between that and Meryl's exuberant tackle earlier, and I bit down on my lip to stop any giggles escaping, as I corrected a twist in the smaller loop around her beak.
"Aw," Meryl cooed, "you do like her!"
With a raised eyebrow, I decided not to correct her on the origin of my grin, and struggled with the buckle for a few moments. The bird waited impressively patiently, dark eyes affixed to me, peeking in a slightly endearing way, so she got her second treat of the day. It went down faster than the first. "I feel like I'm gonna be stocking up on greens pretty often," I remarked, patting the overstuffed bag at my hip, before retrieving the saddle and strapping it on her back (which I had been taught how to do already, thankfully). Meryl laughed.
"You sure will. Most convenience stores sell them at a reasonable price, though like everything, the closer you are to Midgar the more expensive it'll be. If you do head there, be sure and stock up at the chocobo ranch on the other side of the mythril mine, you can't miss it."
"Thanks so much, you're really keeping me right!" I replied, smiling widely. She and her husband had done so much more for me than six-thousand gil would cover.
Meryl matched my smile but disputed, "Anyone would do the same. So! Do you have any idea on a name, or should I start throwing out some suggestions?" I rolled my eyes in good humour, leading nameless out of the stall by her reins as Meryl opened it for us, all the other chocobos chirping excitedly at the sight of one of their kin being lead out.
I practically jumped out of my skin as I felt the reins tugged forward, but held fast; nameless wasn't getting away from me, not after all the gil I spent on her! But no, she didn't actually launch forward in a bid for freedom like I expected. Actually, from walking just behind me, she dipped her neck over my shoulder and peeked around at me, trilling cheerfully.
Hm. Well that was more than endearing, that was just downright adorable.
Meryl giggled at my other side, reaching to stroke the small tuft of feathers at the top of her beak. "What about Peeka?" I proposed, as much to Meryl as to the chocobo, the latter tilting her head, presumably exasperated that I kept talking to her in human-speak.
"Peeka is a wonderful name," Meryl assured me, "and not just because I want her to have a name, honest."
"Very convincing," I remarked dryly, continuing to walk when Peeka tugged insistently on her reins.
"It is Midgar you're heading to first, isn't it?" Though I had kept my cards fairly close to my chest and played fast and loose with the truth at times, I had divulged yesterday that Midgar was my target destination. It probably didn't make much sense from a traveller's perspective, since I would have to double back on myself as Midgar was something of a dead end, but I guessed it was a popular tourist destination since my plans hadn't been called into question.
I nodded in affirmation. "I'll be able to ride into the city, right?"
Meryl shook her head urgently as we walked towards town, drawing a frown from me. "Can only get up to the plate by the motorway or by train, neither of which are chocobo-friendly. You can't even ride in the city without a license, either. If you're staying for a day or two, there're stables just outside the city and you can get a train from there, but they're expensive, and I actually think they don't treat the chocobos all that well."
"Say there's an alternative," I wished, because for all her cuteness, I didn't need Peeka to have any reason to dislike me. Her or her giant talons.
"Kalm has a pretty good setup for chocobos," Meryl proposed with a smile. "It's the closest village to Midgar, train would be around forty-five minutes from there into the city, if I remember right. It has been a while though."
Forty-five minutes by train, so maybe two days walking? That was really as close as I could get? Boarding Peeka would probably cost me an arm and a leg. Would I have to pay up front? But I didn't know how long I'd be in Midgar. I have no idea how this is all going to work…
My silence must've spoke volumes, because Meryl continued hesitatingly, "It isn't that expensive, but if cost is an issue, I can nip back to the house and take back—"
"No, Meryl," I refused, huffing with laughter, "stop trying to put me in your debt. That money is yours, fair and square."
Pouting, the grown woman rolled her eyes and folded her arms, drawing a proper laugh from me. Unable to quell her natural cheeriness, she hooked her arm in mine and laughed too. As if left out, Peeka warked excitably at my right side, almost skipping with her next step, the action awkwardly short as she was matching much shorter human strides.
A villager passing by on the other side of the street cast us a disapproving look, which had Meryl lapsing into helpless giggles while I straightened myself up, vainly not wanting to give them a bad impression of their own neighbour. The rest of our walk consisted of more of the same; me digging for any last scoops of information I could get for my travels while Meryl tried to keep a straight face.
We soon reached the other side of town that marked the end of our pleasant walk. After another bruising hug, she spectated my efforts to hoist myself onto poor Peeka's back. Despite Meryl's valiant efforts, her composure all but fled as the time wore on, red-cheeked and crying with mirth.
A humiliating three minutes and four impacts with the ground that would likely bruise later, I returned her wave with a raised hand that still held the reins in a white-knuckled grip, half turning my head but refusing to tear my eyes away from the road ahead. Peeka seemed to recognise that I didn't feel quite as confident as I had been at the end of yesterday's training (not that I was too full of myself then, either) and took pity on me, maintaining a slow walk until I got my bearings.
"You're not bad, Peeka," I complimented the bird, deciding that even at a steady walk she had been worth the investment. Sure my life would be shortened as a result, but at least the journey would be shortened too.
"That will do us for today, I should think," President Shinra huffed his dismissal, and waved to the door, making no move to vacate his own chair. The gathered executives of the Shinra Corporation collected their respective papers, and made for the exit with little hesitation. A few lingered, those who were like-minded, with the rest preferring to avoid the company of the former few when possible.
One of the latter, a man with perfectly coiffed blonde hair and pristinely dressed in a pinstripe suit, did not have the swift escape he was hoping for. Out of the boardroom, he was well on his way to the stairs (a strategy he had picked up early in his employment, to descend a few floors and catch the elevator by his lonesome instead of sharing with the rabble) when someone called his name.
"Lazard," a too-familiar voice drawled, perhaps intended to be welcoming but the addressee felt anything but welcomed. Well accustomed to dealing with persons he would rather avoid, a pleasant smile was painted on his handsome face, as he turned to acknowledge the professor.
"Hello, Professor," the Director of SOLDIER greeted, using the respectful designation even when Hojo would not extend the same courtesy. "What can I do for you?"
Because the professor was the type of arrogant individual that would find an offer of aid insulting. Lazard tried to extend respect to all he came across, but even he had a limit. When it came to dealing with the unpleasant professor, sly little snubs that no one else would notice or take issue with were what the director prided himself on. Even if that was about all he could really do to the man, it gave him some small childish satisfaction every time, regardless of how Hojo reacted to it.
This time, Hojo's reaction was disappointingly tame, in Lazard's opinion. He hummed with a vague sort of displeasure (but then was the man capable of expressing anything but, when not related to his own work?) before handing the director a stapled few pages from his clipboard.
Lazard took longer taking out his reading glasses than it took for him to study the form, before holding it back out to the professor. "Excepting extreme circumstances, mission proposals should only be requested through an officially arranged meeting between at least three executives or appointed staff, including myself and one SOLDIER: First Class, and I have another meeting to get to."
"This is an urgent matter," the professor rebuked, visibly displeased. "Also, it needs to be handled with maximum secrecy. No First Class SOLDIER can get wind of it."
Intrigued, but still determined to abide by the rules where Hojo was concerned, he shook his head. "Check my calendar and arrange a meeting. Thank you, Professor," he dismissed, and headed for the stairs as soon as the grumbling man accepted his paperwork.
Lazard took his usual route. He descended three floors, called the elevator, checked his organiser while he waited, then boarded for his next destination; most often his office, several floors below on floor 51. However, he hadn't lied when he had claimed to have another meeting; today his destination was a little closer, specifically the floor of the Department of Administrative Research.
The director was surprised to be met by the second in command of the Turks upon exiting the elevator. Usually it was just Reno who would grumpily saunter behind him as an escort, not the prim-and-proper Wutaiian who greeted him with the most delicate nod, and a vague wave in the direction of Veld's office. "Good to see you again, Director," Tseng greeted, with no inflection in his voice to suggest he meant it.
"And you, Tseng," Lazard returned with a smile. Recalling the circumstances of their last interaction, a concerned frown replaced his smile, creasing his forehead. "I trust everything since our last operation has been running more smoothly."
Tseng's poker face relented enough that the director could see some form of negative emotion. Dismay, or disappointment perhaps. "Most of my time has been dedicated to investigating those circumstances. But yes, thank you, sir."
"I wish you the best in that, and look forward to reading your findings," Lazard offered, his voice soft. What else could be said, when an entire platoon of Shinra infantrymen were all but slaughtered under the Turks' command? Certainly, the SOLDIER Director knew it was foreign forces, and held nothing against the Turks. He had made that perfectly clear when it happened barely a month prior.
Tseng gave away nothing, and said nothing. Lazard hoped that the young man, while already an irreplaceable member of the Turks, wouldn't take it too hard. There was no blame to be allocated in his opinion, unlike the much sterner stance the Head of Public Safety, Heidegger had taken.
Preferring not to dwell on past events that could not be improved, the director enquired lightly, "Will you be joining us for this meeting?"
"No, I will not be in attendance," Tseng informed, looking away. Lazard hummed thoughtfully and said no more. He wasn't able to tell through the Turk's poker face how much the exclusion bothered him.
The rest of the walk was completed in comfortable quiet, besides the clicking of polished heeled shoes on tiled floors. They soon arrived at the head Turk's office, the door without any embellishment or decoration (not even a nameplate) which Lazard almost envied. While he adopted an approachable, friendly persona to his work, he often wished that certain people didn't take his open door policy as far as they did.
Tseng offered a polite nod, and turned to stand with his back to the wall beside the door; not unlike a bouncer outside some of the flashier clubs on Loveless Avenue. The SOLDIER Director adorned his director smile, and entered the office. Immediately, he was thrown for a loop.
"There you are," greeted a voice that was almost shrill with amusement. Twisted in his chair, one white-coated arm over the back, a smirk plastered over his face as he watched Lazard with squinted eagle eyes. "We've been waiting."
"Professor," he declared, allowing himself to express some surprise while masking disdain. The leader of the Turks, a man with greying hair and severe frown lines, rose from his chair behind the desk. This was a man Lazard found far more palatable than the professor, and his displeasure lightened, if only slightly.
"Lazard," Veld greeted with some modicum of warmth, and gestured to the chair at Hojo's right side. "Please, take a seat. Everything alright on the forty-ninth floor, I trust?"
Sweeping into his seat and unbuttoning his pinstripe blazer in one seamless move, Lazard replied with a well-practiced response, "Never a dull moment. And with the Turks?"
"Doing well, for what I can attest to," Veld answered with his own non-specific, well-worn status update. Satisfied with the mandatory small talk, the man folded his hands together in front of him, leaning his elbows on the desk. "So, we have a mission proposal here?"
"Indeed," the professor chimed in shortly, and said nothing more. Perhaps he was feeling left out by their previous small talk, Lazard mused.
"Usually I would expect to see such a proposal before a meeting such as this is arranged," the SOLDIER Director issued his complaint, frowning down at the familiar few pages on the desk before him, "certainly not five minutes before. I would request some time to review the paperwork and conduct research to ascertain the most appropriate response."
"I do apologise," Hojo sneered, not sounding the least bit sorry to Lazard's ears, "but this is a matter of urgency. The more time wasted following your process, the less likely you are to succeed."
Veld hummed, "A time sensitive pursuit, then?"
"Precisely."
"By proper channels or not, we're gathered here to discuss this, we might as well consider it for now," the head of the Turks sighed wearily, casting Lazard a glance. The blonde translated it as 'play along so we don't have to do this more than once', and begrudgingly accepted the logic with a nod. Pressing his lips together, he turned a page and began scanning the paperwork for the second time that afternoon. "Would you like to break it down for us, Professor?"
"Certainly," he agreed, his voice chirpy in such a way that made Lazard feel slimy. "A short while ago, some incompetent lost track of one of my test subjects. It had been moved to a secure location, pending the outcome of a related experiment, and was discovered to be lost hours ago."
Lazard frowned bitterly, mind drifting to imagine what that test subject of Hojo's might be.
"The test subject should have been incapable of escape," another statement that brought a depressing train of thought to the SOLDIER Director's mind, "so I am inclined to think that it had assistance. My suggestion would be to start with interrogating the incompetents involved with the subject's transfer, then perhaps the villagers at the last known location."
"Yes, thank you Professor, but we will be the ones to carry out this mission," Lazard's tone was biting in its impassive professionalism, "if we indeed choose to go ahead with it. As such, we will devise our own strategy."
"As you wish," Hojo relented, sounding vaguely smug, perhaps by inciting a reaction from the well-liked SOLDIER Director. Then again, to Lazard, Hojo always sounded smug.
Veld cleared his throat, taking on the role of peacekeeper, and questioned, "What is your reason for proposing this to both SOLDIER and the Turks? Our two departments take on very different roles in this company, missions scarcely overlap where the Turks are included."
"I didn't make this proposition without thoroughly analysing the data and constructing the best approach for success," he retorted, sounding almost insulted, as though the lead Turk were berating him rather than making a genuine inquiry. "It is my belief that locating the subject will be most easily accomplished with the union of your two departments; the subterfuge and interrogative skills of the Turks to locate the subject, followed by the strength of SOLDIER to recapture the subject and bring the accomplices to justice."
The professor had apparently spent a lot of time thinking about this. Lazard asked a difficult question, aware that the answer may be a difficult one to stomach, "What precisely is the test subject?"
Hojo's beetle-black eyes riveted to him, as the leader of the Turk rooted his eyes on Hojo. "The test subject?" he repeated, his voice a slightly higher pitch, as if surprised to be asked such a question. Contemplatively, he put a hand to his chin and tilted his head backwards, examining the ceiling. "Well… it's hard to accurately describe," he began coyly.
Silence, as the two other men waited for his attempt. It soon became clear to them that the professor had divulged all that he was going to, with his vague and unhelpful declaration. Veld took the plunge this time, and with no hint of discomfort on his face, questioned, "Is it human?"
Hojo giggled, a sure sign that neither Lazard nor Veld would appreciate the truthful answer, and likely wouldn't receive anything close to it either. "Well, I wouldn't say that myself. In the past it has reacted in… unexpected ways, to my experiments. Outside of a controlled environment, I could only guess at how it appears, its abilities, strength…"
"By all means," Lazard interjected when he trailed off, "guess."
A far leap from his previous hysterics, the professor scowled. "Perhaps I wasn't clear, but I was using rhetoric. I simply have no clue, and my scientific mind prevents me from making any estimation without some degree of certainty in the answer."
"Well, shall we make the criteria more vague, then?" Veld proposed, linking his hands together over the document on his table; one which Lazard felt a growing desire to gather up and place in the shredder on the other side of the room. "Would you describe it as human-shaped?"
"How so?" the professor continued insisting on being difficult. "What is your criteria for defining such? Number of limbs? Height and weight? Amount of hairs on its head and body, or perhaps how fast it can run? These are arbitrary things I simply never cared to note about the test subject, nor could recall now. I can conduct a thorough analysis of such things when you have obtained it for me, if it pleases you."
Lazard looked exasperated, though his tone was level as he questioned, "You could not recall the number of limbs?"
Hojo looked at him over his round glasses, with a solemnity that was sorely out of place. "Well, I could guess, but I feel as if I previously made it clear that I was unwilling to do so," was the answer that had Lazard look to the Turk, a measure of pleading in his gaze.
Veld met it with an aloof solidarity, and dismissed the professor, saying, "Thank you for your input, you may leave so that the director and I can discuss this further."
Without complaint, the man leisurely rose from his seat, and sauntered towards the door. "You should know," the professor wheedled, stopping to glance over one hunched, white-coated shoulder at the duo, "if you refuse, I intend to appeal the decision, and I will take that appeal to the president himself."
The door clicking shut prompted a heavy sigh from both men still sat at the desk, leaning back in their chairs almost in synchronicity.
There was quiet for almost a minute following, as if the professor had sapped all of their energy from them merely by being in their presence. Only the dull buzzing of mako powered lights was audible, though the two seated at the desk were so accustomed to it that even it faded into nothing. The Turk Veld was the first to break it, eyeing up the director as he simply questioned, "Well?"
Cue another heavy sigh from the SOLDIER Director. "He insisted that none of the First Class SOLDIERs should be made aware," began his train of thought, Veld letting out a contemplative hum. "Urgent, and secretive… I think we should draw this out as long as possible."
Veld smirked, "Trying to pressure the man into revealing more information under time pressure? Sometimes I wonder if you're wasted with SOLDIER." Lazard chuckled appreciatively, entirely comfortable with his station but unopposed to the empty flattery the Turk offered. "As much as I would love to bury this in my backlog, I suspect we won't be able to avoid it for as long as we would like."
"We can make a basic outline now, and have it to hand when it next comes up to prove that it's not been forgotten," Lazard proposed. "A general idea of where to start, and operatives to be considered?"
Veld nodded. "I have one or two Turks in mind already, though that can change depending on whom you select. I know some might play nicer than others."
Lazard smirked. "I think I know just the one."
…
Three days later, at Shinra's helicopter pad (rather, the helicopter pad at the Shinra Headquarters in Midgar - every helicopter pad on the planet was built and owned by Shinra) stood a man with a stern expression. The black suit he wore, tailor-made and pristine, added to the intimidating mystique; complete with a pair of dark sunglasses over his eyes.
From a distance, sure. But Ash saw through that. "Oi, Turk!" she hollered with familiarity, the grin brightening her vivid eyes; a blend of green, blue and a trace of brown. The Turk, startled by the call, uncrossed his arms in a start, one foot darting backwards to shift his weight into a defensive position by muscle memory. His face turned to peek at the woman, dressed in the navy SOLDIER: Third Class uniform, and his stance relaxed.
"Well lucky me," he remarked, with a lazy smile that took years off his face. He spread his arms wide, inviting a hug from the woman.
At lightning speed, she plucked the sunglasses off of his face as soon as she was within reach, revealing wide brown eyes. He yelled in surprise as much as dismay, reaction time a fraction too slow to grab them back from her before she had them behind her back. "You look even more silly than usual when you try to look cool," Ash explained, smirking widely.
"Guess you would know," the blonde relented with a shrug, before grabbing her up in a hug. "Nice to see you again, roomie." Ash laughed as, behind her back, he wrestled his shades from her grip.
She gave them up willingly and stepped back from the embrace, the Turk left to drop his hands with a slightly befuddled expression. His eyes caught on someone over her shoulder; another SOLDIER, judging by the uniform, this one the dark purple associated with Second Class.
Tucking his glasses into his breast pocket, he took a few steps towards the stranger with his right hand outstretched, and introduced himself, "Will. And you are?"
"Rude," he commented, pushing the hand that should have shaken the Turk's up through his red hair instead. Blonde eyebrows furrowed as Will retracted his hand, burying it in his trouser pockets. "What, you don't remember me?" the SOLDIER criticised, all but beating his chest. "Merowian! I taught you to use Materia when you were just a squirt."
Abashed, Will grimaced. "Sorry about that, yeah I remember you! Just it's been so long…"
"Don't sweat it," the teacher relented with an easy-going smirk. "Though I really thought my classes were unforgettable."
"Pretty sure that's the review I put after my Cadet training finished," Will agreed with a chuckle. "In fairness, most of those classes were spent running away from you, so, never really got a good look I guess."
"Moving on?" Ash interjected, hands on her hips. "You've already made us late, we should've been in the air by now."
"Alright already," the SOLDIER: Second Class moaned, trudging past the two to board the helicopter. Will took the moment to examine his old roommate in curiosity.
"What's the deal with him?" he asked, tone light.
The brunette looked unimpressed. "Dude is the same as he ever was. Got back from Wutai a week ago with some injury, started being too exuberant in training sessions, so they're forcing him to go on holiday while he recovers. I guess Costa del Sol is on the way to this backwater town we're going to."
Will deflated, blowing out a relieved breath. "That's a relief. I thought he'd be on the mission too."
Walking towards the helicopter ahead of the Turk, the girl spun on her heels to look at her partner as she walked backwards, arms stretched wide. "Nope," Ash confirmed with a smirk, "you've got me all to yourself."
"That's worse, isn't it?" Will remarked with a laugh, following after the SOLDIERs.
"Rude," Ash echoed her superior's statement from earlier, along with the exaggerated move, running her fingers up through the roots of her long brunette hair. Sniggering appreciatively, Will gestured her to board the helicopter, before hopping on himself and slamming the door shut behind them.
"So what do you think of this assignment?" Will asked, in a volume just shy of a shout, when they were flying over open ocean and Merowian had dozed off beside them. Will had indicated that they take their headsets off so the pilot wouldn't overhear their discussion.
Ash frowned, shaking her head. "Not a fan."
"What, you don't like hide and seek with some escaped creature from Hojo's lab?" the Turk asked wryly.
"You do?" she retorted in equal fashion. "Nah. Only good thing about it is it gets me out of patrol."
"What, patrol is worse than this, really?"
Ash nodded flatly. "I get paraded around Sectors Seven and Eight, never below the plate."
"That sucks," Will agreed, sympathising but not knowing what else to say. As one of a grand total of two female SOLDIERs, it seemed Ash's pool of interesting missions (and by extension opportunity for advancement) was drier than the land surrounding the mako city.
Ash nodded, replacing her headset before turning to face the window. Will sighed, before doing the same.