Last Train Home [Midgar | Open!]

[kris]

Another night... another boring suaree.

At least that was over with, much to Addison's relief. Lord only knows how much longer she could've feigned interest in the toilet habits of some overweight producer's prized Shih-Tzu, Fifi. Even with her acting prowess, even the blond had struggled to keep her eyes from glazing over when it came to the absolutely dull conversations that were commonplace in Midgar's theater scene. You'd think that they'd save some of their personalities for after the curtain comes down - and yet I'm the one going home alone! Tch, ah well... at least I won't have to deal with any awkwardness tomorrow morning. The slightest of smiles tugged at the beauty's lips as she chuckled softly, shaking her head. There was a reason that Addie didn't indulge in the alcohol that seemingly flowed like water at those parties, after all - why, she wouldn't have been able to live with herself if she would've woken up next to Fifi's owner, what with the five chins and the horrible body odor. She was quick to push that thought well away from her consciousness before it caused her to get sick.

Once the temporary moment of feeling ill had passed, the usual beauty that Addison carefully prepared to show the world was allowed to show through. Lips carefully lacquered crimson, the rest of her make-up was just as thoughtfully done to best accentuate her features, kohl lining those vivid green eyes to make them pop even more than they would on their own. Her thin black pea-style coat has been left open over the strapless crimson silk dress that she had poured herself into, legs left exposed in the slight chill of the night air. Black strappy high-heels clacked against the sidewalk as her feet carried her to the train station, her pace slow and leisurely despite the late hour.

Even if she wouldn't have been able to hold her own against a squadron of Wutai's finest, she did have her dagger stashed in the left pocket of her jacket; its location was why both of her hands were in those small hideaways as well, what with how she needed to keep her outerwear hanging evenly and all. Besides, hiding one's hands from view would make any potential muggers think twice about trying to get at her earrings since they'd have no idea just what she was holding. It was one of the oldest tricks in the book for a reason; it worked, and it worked well enough to let her feel at least vaguely safe. Rounding the corner, the blond found her steps slowing as she caught up with one of the older women that she had seen around in her near-constant commuting. Addison offered up a smile as she nodded in greeting, the gesture returned. "Excuse me, but what time is it?"

"It's about eleven thirty," came the reply.

Another smile and nod. "Thanks." The last train that she could take home wouldn't arrive for another ten minutes, so she had plenty of time to traverse the block that separated her from her destination. Of course, that didn't mean that she would make it - but that was ultimately in the hands of fate, not her. Despite how she had forgotten that most critical of facts, anything can happen in Midgar...

[shelke]

[shadow=red,left,300]Shelke[/size][/shadow]

The people here were rather odd, Shelke noted to herself as she sat alone on a bench at the station, her sunny auburn hair untucked and sweeping to each side of her face, her armored shirt clinging to her petite figure as she held a rather large messenger bag in her lap, where part of her Synaptic Net Dive helmet poked out, carelessly thrown in because of a little argument she and her new guardian had about a morning ago. Tifa had requested her to go outside and “get some air”, and as much as she would have liked to refuse, the woman was the only reason she had a roof above her head and enough mako to sustain her daily needs. She was kind, but only saw her as a child because of her exterior. She remembered first trying to leave the little home in Edge fully armed, Tsviet suit, energy sabers, even a pocket syringe of mako, but being the woman Tifa always had been, scolded her, grabbing her arm before she left and pausing for a little chat – A chat meant for an adult and a child. Shelke was no child, and retorted logically, explaining her point of view. However, with the body of one, it made arguing back much more difficult, and eventually made a decision to leave with most of her possessions in a small bag; her sabers, her armor, a week’s worth dosage of mako and syringes, and the Synaptic Net Dive helmet and the blueprints for constructing a generator to use it. It had been about a month since she last used the device for her own satisfaction. Knowledge was a river in her mind, and needed to keep flowing to prevent insanity.

She remembered when she first approached the station—on foot, covered in dirt from her travels— a woman approached her and looked her in the eye, asking a single question. “Where are your parents? Wondering around in a place like this alone … It’s not safe.”

Of course it’s not safe. She had no parents. Her sister was in Comatose for two years out of a decision made on pure stupidity, and this lady decided to mention her parents of all things? She sighed and replied in her calm, sweet monotone of a voice. “I have business to attend to. My physical condition is the least of my concerns at the moment. I hope you understand.” And with that, she walked away. If it was not safe, she would make it safe. Attracting attention was no longer a concern. She was going to attract attention. She always did, and it could not be helped. After changing into her armor in a local restroom, she made her way to the bench she should be seated in.

Now, presently, she knew which direction the trains were going. She had processed this information before. However, in the corner of her eye she noticed another woman, one in a crimson dress. She seemed rather confident, walking around in a city this large alone dressed as if she’d just gotten back from some fancy event. She seemed to have no worries. She quickly turned her head back to the train. She didn’t want to her staring to go noticed. She was just surveying her surroundings, right? There was no harm in curiosity. It was a common brain function, one capable of answering questions and completing unfinished data within the recesses of the mind.

Her lust for data was inevitable, but she would not approach her. No, she would wait. This woman seemed to be waiting for something. A train, perhaps? Maybe she might be headed towards a solitary location, or maybe an inn. Even the abnormal needed rest.

[kris]

Well, the reason that the woman in a red dress looked like she had just left a fancy event is... because she had just left a fancy event, one that had proven to be more of a waste of time than anything else. While Addison certainly didn't mind being all dressed up, primped and polished and gussied up from top to bottom, at this point all the more she wanted to do was get home so that she could kick off those high-heeled shoes and put on some pajamas. Maybe she'd finally crack open that container of triple-chocolate-chip ice cream she'd splurged on a couple of weeks ago and have a few spoonfuls while she read over LOVELESS's script one more time. By now, she swore that she'd be able to remember everyone's lines rather than her own... and the thought of that preparedness getting her precisely nowhere earned a bit of a sigh, the blond shaking her head. Even if she told herself that it was their loss and not hers that they had chosen the buck-toothed, big-busted, tone-deaf bimbo rather than someone with actual talent, she couldn't help but feel inadequate. Such was just the nature of the show business, though, so she knew that she couldn't dwell on it... but what to focus on instead--

Rather keenly, she felt eyes upon her, apprasing her. Such was a common occurance, really, but something felt... different this time, like she was being looked at by someone that regarded her as more than, ahm, 'personal time' fodder. Turning her head, Addison quirked a brow as she spotted Shelke sitting on the bench. To say that the young girl looked unusual was an understatement, but to be fair? The blond had seen stranger-- a couple of years ago, even, she'd been dressed up weirder herself, trying to get home without being harrassed while wearing what was easiest to describe as a chocobo costume made of felt and straw. The blasted thing had left her with a rash... but that was neither here nor there.

No, what mattered was that Addison's maternal instincts, however slight, were kicking in-- and that no matter how much they tried to influence her, they wouldn't help just how lousy she was with kids. Softly clearing her throat, the young woman spoke. "The train ought to be here any minute..." She hoped her tone was soothing and trustworthy rather than nervous, the role she found herself in as unfamiliar as setting foot on Mars.

[shelke]

Shelke let a small smile come upon her lips. This woman probably thought the same of her as the others did, not that it mattered anymore. Though, this woman has something different about her. She did not seem to be one for scolding, simply for conversation, exchanging information. She could be useful.

"I've been sitting here since the last train came by, and the one before that. The next should be arriving in about two minutes and fourty-seven seconds, now fourty-three because of the estimated time it takes me to speak...."

She paused. She knew which way the trains went. Of course she did. But what if that direction didn't have an inn of somesort? Wouldn't Tifa be worried if she didn't call from a solitary location? This wasn't the first time she ran off.... She'd come back in a week, unless she happened to find some more mako to sustain herself and wonder around some more, hopefully to find a place with enough electricity to build a generator for the Synaptic Net Dive. That way, she wouldn't have to demean herself socializing and get this trip done as soon.... or as late as possible. Her fingers tapped her bag as she begun to speak once again, not realizing the handle of her saber was poking out of the bag, along with a few stray wires belonging to the SND.

"... However, miss, I haven't memorized the structure of the city. It was not information I was given to process. Is there an Inn or perhaps an empty building I may take refuge in for the night?"

Oh, how naive she sounded. She could memorize the layout of Edge, so why not Midgar? Was it because this place always reminded her of negative experiences? Well, that would have to change. Her posture stiffened once she realized she had spoken possibly out of turn. Her first statement was rather... off topic.

"I... apologize for sounding so odd. I just never have to confront strangers for directions."

[Bharune]

Train, train, blow your horn~
Breathe your steam to carry us home~

A vague silhouette of a man hovered near a broken streetlight, which was now dejected pole that no longer offered any illumination. Even though it might not be good for keeping the patrons from tripping over the cracks and litter that scattered the paved station, it proved an excellent spot for Seun to sit. Under it was a black blanket untouched by the stretch of dulled yellowed light from its functioning clones, so Seun was damn near invisible, camouflaged by his similarly shaded Turk suit, and there was no solitude he enjoyed more than simply remaining unnoticed.

The blonde had claimed this spot half an hour ago, and he sat with his back against the useless streetlight, unconscious or uncaring about the thin cover of dirt over the cement. A bottle rested on his left, empty and discarded, and Seun was immensely disappointed to find himself still painfully lucid.

Home again, on the other side~
Once we’re there, we’re safe inside~!

Sometimes, when Seun watched the people passing by the station, he felt a little flicker of something in his chest. That candle’s flame of emotion never lasted long, though, snuffed out by jaded bitterness and apathy. Then why did he continue to sit here? Waiting on the train, of course. Somehow, he always ended up back in Midgar.

The blonde Turk picked up the used pack from his lap, tugging out his third – and last – cigarette. In everything, he saw the ghosts of the Wutai War. In the dirt. In the smoke. In the stains and wear that crawled along Midgar’s infrastructure. Once, he had tried to dispel the hauntings, but now he simply accepted it. The fact that the quick consumption of the alcohol he had purchased several blacks back hadn’t offered a reprieve from anything didn’t pain him, it merely disappointed him a small bit. Most likely he would remain here until something spurred him to move, most likely he would miss the last train and not even care. Not much more amusement awaited him at his destination.

He wasn’t really waiting for the train, anyway. He was waiting for something else, and regardless of where he went he’d still be waiting for it. So what difference did it make if he was here or there?

It was during this absent-minded contemplation that Seun noticed the movement of a rather…familiar individual. Mild surprise touched his dark eyes and a small smile curved his lips as the brown-haired child took a seat on a bench at the station. Yes…he recognized that one, even if he had never interacted with her personally. How just like Shinra to let old weapons run around unchecked -- hadn’t they learned their lesson yet?

One of the Tsviets…Seun couldn’t recall her name, but it didn’t really matter. Interesting. He wondered briefly if he should engage her, but then he remembered he was off-duty and his interest waned considerably. However, Rufus would probably be annoyed if he came across a piece of Shinra’s lost property and didn’t report and, while Seun didn’t particularly care even if he was reprimanded, he figured since he had no intentions of going out of his way to capture this Tsviet he could at least inform his boss. So, from his heavily shadowed post, he lifted his mobile phone and took a quick picture of the young thing, forwarding it to Rufus without attaching any additional message. Then he put his phone away and lit his cigarette, expecting that if he hadn’t given away his position with his movements the glow of the lighter would certainly do the trick. But Seun didn’t care, he wasn’t hiding.

His focus on the Tsviet had prevented him from glancing twice at the woman accompanying her, and now that the interest was gone he didn’t spare a thought to either of them, dipping back into his own debate about whether or not he would actually get on the train when it arrived.

Maybe he’d just surprise himself.