Yamanaka Ino (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
intraspective) wrote2016-10-07 07:34 pm
intraspective) wrote2016-10-07 07:34 pm
Entry tags:
Sector 5 Church, Midgar, Gaia, Friday Late Night
This time of night all the good boys and girls were in bed.
At least, they usually were in the stories. Ino knew far, far too much about how Midgar (and life in general) worked to think that being up late was any real indicator of good or badness.
She didn't have to be out tonight, patrolling, and she wasn't officially on the clock anyway (not that that meant much) but she'd been away for the last few weeks, out in Wutai since it was easy for her to pass as a native there, and so she wanted to reacquaint herself with her home.
Midgar was an ugly city, all dark metal, rust, and green smoke skies. She still thought it was beautiful, when she saw the flicker and glitter of mako lit streetlights and the old empty-eyed fallen trains. Beautiful in a lonely sort of way, which suited her mood completely.
There'd been no time, out in Wutai to celebrate her birthday (she was twenty-two now), and while the Turks had offered to take her out tonight, none of them had been surprised when she'd begged off. They could go drinking without her.
As she usually did, when she was in this sort of mood, her footsteps ghosted her to Aerith's church. This time of night, Aerith wasn't there. Aerith was (mostly) a good girl.
Letting the door slip shut behind her, Ino approached the flowers, somehow lit by the moon despite the plate overhead (she knew, she'd gone looking once and it still didn't make sense), and knelt down to touch them.
"Hey," she said, smiling slightly as her hair spilled over her shoulders to touch the flowers too. "How've you been? Being good for your mom?"
[OOC: Expecting one, but open for calls/texts, sure.]
At least, they usually were in the stories. Ino knew far, far too much about how Midgar (and life in general) worked to think that being up late was any real indicator of good or badness.
She didn't have to be out tonight, patrolling, and she wasn't officially on the clock anyway (not that that meant much) but she'd been away for the last few weeks, out in Wutai since it was easy for her to pass as a native there, and so she wanted to reacquaint herself with her home.
Midgar was an ugly city, all dark metal, rust, and green smoke skies. She still thought it was beautiful, when she saw the flicker and glitter of mako lit streetlights and the old empty-eyed fallen trains. Beautiful in a lonely sort of way, which suited her mood completely.
There'd been no time, out in Wutai to celebrate her birthday (she was twenty-two now), and while the Turks had offered to take her out tonight, none of them had been surprised when she'd begged off. They could go drinking without her.
As she usually did, when she was in this sort of mood, her footsteps ghosted her to Aerith's church. This time of night, Aerith wasn't there. Aerith was (mostly) a good girl.
Letting the door slip shut behind her, Ino approached the flowers, somehow lit by the moon despite the plate overhead (she knew, she'd gone looking once and it still didn't make sense), and knelt down to touch them.
"Hey," she said, smiling slightly as her hair spilled over her shoulders to touch the flowers too. "How've you been? Being good for your mom?"
[OOC: Expecting one, but open for calls/texts, sure.]
no subject
Zack heaved a sigh - Man oh man - and shook his head there in his mind's eye. But he didn't protest. He understood that when Ino said it was time to go, there wasn't much he could say to keep her there. And once she went, there would come the overwhelming quiet, and he really did need a quiet night. Hojo had been pushing them hard, and there had been a few times there when Zack had almost, almost stopped fighting to hang on.
You should go, then, he replied softly. Go do the Turk thing. Think about going to Homecoming. I'll still be here when it's all said and done.
And if he wasn't, the only person he was really lying to right now was himself, after all.
no subject
Then she got up and left the church, her footsteps silent against the hard, dark wood of the floors. Behind her, the flowers rustled in a soft breeze.
no subject