Yamanaka Ino (Iris)

She was never, ever taking any portal that had stopovers ever again. Sure, their hosts had been great, she now played one hell of a mean game of croquet (it would have been two-time world champion except Reno had stolen one title from her on a technicality, damn him), but really, all being stuck in croquet hell for three years the local time had done was kill any momentum she'd had for saving the world.

Iris still came out of the portal swinging her mallet, just in case. (Look, before croquet hell there had been some much less friendly worlds out there and old habits died really hard.)

Nothing attacked her, though she did startle a man feeding his chickens as she stepped out into his yard. Ignoring his yelp, she glanced around their surroundings, her mind reaching out to judge any potential threats.

"Oh thank fuck," she said cheerfully. "We're someplace peaceful. I demand a shower!"

Sure, they'd have to figure out where and what reality they were in. But this was a start.

[For that title-stealing guy!

NOTE: The second thread has talk of torture, actual murder, torture, and blowing up a building in it.]

"Yeah," Ino said, spinning around in her chair. "I've got it. Thank you. Let me know if anything changes, okay? Great! I'll be in touch."

Hanging up, Ino swung her feet up and over until she was lounging sideways in her chair, knees hooked over the chair arm, her back pressed against the other, and she let her smile fade.

Gods, but she had a headache!

No rest for the wicked, though, so she rapped smartly (but lightly) on Tseng's mind—he was mid-phone call himself, after all—and said, "Got a moment? Buzz me, when you do."

Then she picked up some of her neglected paperwork and tried to focus on that while she waited.

[For that boss dude.]

Ino still hated Icicle.

It was easy to hate since it was cold, it was white, it was boring if you didn't like snowboarding, and it was depressing after sifting through all the old evidence about Aerith's mom's story.

But Ino hated, at that moment, Tseng a lot more than she hated Icicle.

Actually, it had been building for weeks, fueled by her own sense of something being wrong, her increasingly indignant texts to Jono (who, at least, agreed that something was most definitely UP), and the fact that she still couldn't reach any of the other Turks for longer than 'hi, how are you—'

Tseng was reading her emails. But he wasn't answering them.

But the final, final straw came from Elena, who'd been babbling about how Rosa was out at all hours because The Turks were super busy these days, like, even busier than normal. Ino had probed Elena gently for details but Elena hadn't known much. Rosa was good at keeping secrets.

Ino was better at ferreting them out.

Which left her in what was an ugly quandary. She was clearly being isolated for a reason and she hadn't done anything that would be considered suspicious. She'd been good up here for what felt like months, just paying their bills like normal and sneaking off occasionally through a portal to go somewhere warm. She'd gotten the job done and done well.

So why wasn't she being called back to Midgar anyway?

She had her orders but, as anyone in the Turks knew, rules were made to be broken.

Ino plotted her escape from Icicle as carefully as if every, single Turk was watching her at all times. She didn't dare use a car—they were probably all bugged; the ones she'd checked had been—and since she wasn't sneaking off somewhere warm, she didn't dare use a portal—Tseng likely had someone watching her expenditures if she really was being isolated—both of which made getting out of Icicle harder.

But Ino still had Staffy, the flying staff that Liir had gifted her with years and years ago. Flying through the air would be even more brutally cold than hanging out on the ground would be, especially since she'd have to fly over open water.

That, though, she could work around. When she wanted something she always got it, no matter at the cost to her. Tseng could watch what she bought all he wanted.

All her heavy-duty snow gear was easy to explain—she was doing as the locals did and learning to snowboard (Ino hated every minute of it, except when she finally figured out the trick to going really, really fast; that was exhilarating and she loved it)—and the extra food she bought was because she needed to eat more to make up for the energy she was using while being out all day in the cold and playing at sports.

When she had all her supplies in hand, Ino made herself sick. It was a simple trick of chakra manipulation to raise her temperature, give herself a cough, and get herself confined to bed and being waited on hand and foot.

She suffered through that for two days, long enough for people to get used to the fact that she was sick and not out and about, and then healed herself up to tip-top shape in the dead of night, wriggled into every bit of heavy-duty cold weather gear that she owned, stuffed everything else she needed into her pockets, and then translocated herself five miles away.

Ino landed in a snow drift, which made her swear, but digging Staffy out and getting into the air was more important than cursing fate, destiny, and Tseng. In the distance, she could see the lights from Icicle.

Ninja were all trained in how to navigate by using the stars. Ino had been on Gaia long enough for these stars to become as familiar as the back of her hand. She oriented herself, spreading her mind out to make sure no one else was around, and headed off on Staffy at a decent clip.

It would be a long, likely painful flight to Midgar. She was going to have to avoid people, avoid purchasing anything, and remain utterly undetected by any security system.

It would be a challenge but she was up for it. She was a Turk.

It was time to go to Midgar and remind Tseng of that fact.

[Establishy!]

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.]