Tho' Your Promise Count for Nothing...
Who: Rude, Vincent Valentine, Reno, Lavi, Sebastian Michaelis, Rufus ShinRa...
When: Saturday Evening of Ghost Week, Right after Vincent's arrival
Where: The Saloon, Facility 3
Summary: Rufus gathers his Turks & their friends for a meeting...
Rating: Possibly PG-13 for language?
Warnings: Turks from different times, a demonic butler, a President with a Guard Hound cub, and Lavi? What in heaven's name could go wrong?
Rufus hid Dark Nation under his coat, hefted his shotgun, and ventured carefully out of the church into the street. There did not appear to me too many people around, though he could see shadows; one of them inevitably was the ghost of his father, moaning and bloody, guts hanging out through the fine, damaged cloth of the insubstantial shirt... Rufus did his best to ignore the Old Man. His presence was unnerving but mind-numbingly the same. He did not seem to have the means to harm, only to complain and attempt to cow... but that had never worked too well once Rufus had grown up, and it did not work now.
He made his way through to the hotel without incident. There were a lot of people here, some seemed to be celebrating, others drowning their sorrows or bandaging injuries. Rufus went into the Saloon, found an empty table in the back corner--a place that seemed to make Turks comfortable, after all--and sat in the absolute corner himself, where he was able to see all entry and exit points from the surrounding area. Now it was just a matter of waiting...
When: Saturday Evening of Ghost Week, Right after Vincent's arrival
Where: The Saloon, Facility 3
Summary: Rufus gathers his Turks & their friends for a meeting...
Rating: Possibly PG-13 for language?
Warnings: Turks from different times, a demonic butler, a President with a Guard Hound cub, and Lavi? What in heaven's name could go wrong?
Rufus hid Dark Nation under his coat, hefted his shotgun, and ventured carefully out of the church into the street. There did not appear to me too many people around, though he could see shadows; one of them inevitably was the ghost of his father, moaning and bloody, guts hanging out through the fine, damaged cloth of the insubstantial shirt... Rufus did his best to ignore the Old Man. His presence was unnerving but mind-numbingly the same. He did not seem to have the means to harm, only to complain and attempt to cow... but that had never worked too well once Rufus had grown up, and it did not work now.
He made his way through to the hotel without incident. There were a lot of people here, some seemed to be celebrating, others drowning their sorrows or bandaging injuries. Rufus went into the Saloon, found an empty table in the back corner--a place that seemed to make Turks comfortable, after all--and sat in the absolute corner himself, where he was able to see all entry and exit points from the surrounding area. Now it was just a matter of waiting...