Who: Veld, Elfe, Aerith, Vincent, Cloud, Haurke
When: While Team Science is working on Sephiroth and Team Reno is in Wutai
Location: Forgotten City of the Ancients
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The Holy Machine is missing. There is no reason to believe that it's been destroyed. Instead there is writing on the wall and around the base of where the machine
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Veld smiled to try to stop Aerith from giving him a worried look. This was a new morning; he supposed that everyone could feel it. "Alright, Haurke, make sure that you're completely sure you don't miss anything. Remember the dig we did in Wutai. Don't rush." Veld leveled a look at Cloud to make sure that the younger man didn't think to be pressing for answers.
“Valentine, if I need backup, you’re receiving.” It wasn’t that Veld didn’t trust Cloud, quite the contrary, but Veld knew that Vincent was by far the fastest out of all of them and if someone needed backup, it would be Vincent who was the go-between. And he did trust Vincent more. That was only natural when someone took a bullet for someone else. Veld tested his PHS in regards to the correct numbers and then turned.
“Elfe, Aerith?” Let’s head out. He led his daughters into the city itself. The streets were glistening with an almost crystal feel and the buildings still looked livable. In truth, it was like the place had been frozen in time.
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Just out of the corner of her eye, Aerith slowly became aware of Elfe's closing distance. She was at first flattered and humbled, the thought that her newly-aquired sister had such a concern for her was endearing. But then she became aware of Elfe's heightened awareness and serious focus. Granted, Aerith was a healer and not a fighter. But she became aware that she was indept in her own protection. I'll have to take Veld up on his offer to teach me how to defend myself.
Nodding in agreement with Elfe's question, Aerith craned her neck to look around Veld to the center of the city. Her stomach knotted and became a heavy mass as the building seemed to nearly loom over them. "The machine is in the center of the city, isn't it?"
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He hadn't had much to do with Shinavi prior to this mission; occasionally Cloud had seen Shinavi around the background when visiting Reeve. Or hustling Rufus because of Reeve. Come to think of it, there was that one time when Tifa had called Cloud's PHS while he'd been driving Fenrir and it had seemed like a perfectly good idea to answer the phone without stopping and he'd nearly run over somebody who, now that he thought about it, was actually Haruke.
(Was it? Should he apologize? Should he doublecheck? The others had occasionally ragged Cloud for being inattentive, which was not true. He remembered Reeve's birthday; Tifa had written a note in his work diary, and stuck a post-it note on the fridge, and on his computer, and she'd sent him a text, and Yuffie had sent him an email, and Reeve had sent him a formal invitation to some sort of dinner thing, and all in all ( ... )
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"Sorry for moving around so much," he said, glancing up from his translation notes briefly. "It's kind of hard to make out..."
What's this word...Cloud? Huh, weird coincidence.
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The guy was kinda polite, Cloud supposed, not that Cloud particularly minded if he muttered to himself a lot.
"... It's fine," he said, but then he paused; it seemed Shinavi had already been distracted by his notes.
Cloud eyed him curiously, before turning back to scanning the area. If there were anything important, Shinavi would tell him.
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"Clo-- er, Mr. Strife?" he asked, not looking away from his papers. "There's six of us here, right? You, me, Profes-- er, Veld, Aerith, Elfe, Vincent?"
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