(Untitled)

[animus_inspire]

Who: Hojo and Reeve. Kira via PHS.
When: Concurrent to / around This and after This
Location: Reeve's apartment, Eastern "Edge" of Midgar
Rating: PGish.
Summary: Hojo has materialised within Reeve's apartment. The Professor is back and is prime to gain an advantaged position once again.

Comments

[ladyashikira]

Kira was dancing idly around her empty cafe, occasionally pausing to pick up a cookie from the plate next to the cash register, when her phone rang. The ringtone was the same as it had been in her SOLDIER days, something cheery; for that matter, the phone itself looked exactly like her old one, right down to the SOLDIER emblem on the front. She glanced at the screen once, then opened it quickly.

"Commissioner?"

There was silence on the other end for a moment, and then she heard, faintly, "Who's there?" Too far away from the speaker to be talking to her. Frowning, she cut off the music in the cafe in order to hear better.

He'll start making sense soon

[moralmisconduct]

The voices of the young ones dropped out of range... or had they really been there at all? The state of his mind was unreliable... His skeletal muscles were seized in some phantom anticipation, the pain widespread to the point of numbness. Hojo was vaguely aware of his fingers twitching, his internal organs in silent mutiny, and when he opened his mouth again there was the sound of rice paper being torn:

"...but you are wrong. Ethics is a word inapplicable to this scenario. Let's take a utilitarian approach, if you really want to be philosophical. You see

I apologise for this being short... there is much more Reeve has to remember....

[animus_inspire]

Reeve inched slowly into the main living room, gun held - hand in palm - in front of his face. It felt so alien, everything disjointed, discomforting; the garbled mess of language spewing forth from the blackness eerie and disconcerting. Sweat started to bead on his forehead and the Commissioner shunted ever closer, wrenched between logic and curiosity.

Eyes landing on a heaving figure upon his carpet, the Commissioner hitched up the gun and moved to the light switch. The harsh glare of illumination on sickly skin, whisped hair and glasses. A strange smell assaulting his nostrils and Reeve put his hand over his mouth. Choking down bile he stuttered out a shocked "Prof-essor.... Ho-jo?"

You poor, unfortunate man. And really, I mean that. XD

[moralmisconduct]

A mean flood of light burned behind his eyelids, forcing Hojo back to reality. Because, that was what this was, wasn't it? Reality? The thin touch of torn clothes, the familiar pinch of light glasses on the bridge of his nose, the stiffness invading every joint, and that damn brightness - all a part of the real, physical world he had unwillingly found himself back in?

The voice, too. He should know that voice. Who-?

Gingerly opening his eyes against the glare, he squinted up at the other presence. An apprehensive face swam lazily into view, blurred and smeared like a rain-washed painting, features only just discernible beyond a thin glaze of protective tears.

"...Tuesti? ...Reeve...?"

Was this luck or misfortune, to have been found in so vulnerable a state by a former acquaintance? Hojo grimaced as the name exited his lips. Pity; he had really meant to smile.

"I did answer to that name," he replied, finally, "But right now I'm a little uncertain. I think that's...understandable, given my current...incapacitated state

Never told you how much I adoooore your reply XD Pity; he had really meant to smile? WIN XD

[animus_inspire]

No. There was no mistaking it. The Professor's name, spoken in a question of surprise and shock, died upon the lips of the Commissioner; the unmistakable reality of the situation sinking in to Reeve's mind also as the strip lights bathed them both in a luminous glare.

Hojo was... in his apartment. Reeve blinked as the figure before him contorted that hideous visage in an effort to focus, his own name falling from thin lips sending a shudder down his spine. Yet Hojo twisted his features further, desperately pathetic like a lame dog that never learned to stop leering after it's prey. A sweat bead trickled into Reeve's eye, salt stinging suddenly until he brought up the back of his hand, still holding his gun, to brush away the pallid wetness of fear; slicking across his forehead like a cold film of grease.

Hojo was... in his apartment.The commissioner couldn't concentrate on why or how this might have occurred, his mind instead a mere scramble of memories and pricked emotions. Tongue tied with a tidal rush of feeling; some base fear