Sector 7 Blues

[Tseng]

"So this is how I die," the words rolled off Tseng's tongue like drops of rain against the backdrop of night desending upon his vision. He could hear the sounds of crying or was it just people talking? He couldn't really say; it all was playing out like a distant melody fading into obscurity just like himself. A smile crossed his face at the realization his body beginning to go limp as he lost feeling around the bloody hole in his chest. He was Tseng of the Turks, in charge of the most secretive and darkest organizations Shinra had to offer. Unthinkable levels of discretion had been given to him in his mission to do the dirtiest work for the only real power controlling the planet.

Now at the moment of his death did he realize how futile it had all been, how unimportant. The Department of Administration would not mourn his death nor would anyone other then select people in Shinra really care. For Reno and Rude, it would be business as usual, and the new president would just find it a hassle to appoint a new leader for the Turks. Elena, she would naively miss him, and Aerith...

Tseng shook the thought from his mind even in dying this was not the time nor the place for introspection. He was moving on now to a better place or perhaps the president had been right about the Ancients. The smile changed into a more serious expression as he attempted to quell the conflicting thoughts echoing through the expanse of his mind. He was Tseng of the Turks and needed to get back up and needed to live, besides since when did someone in his position ever just go quietly.

The question shook him to the very core as the voices became an indistinct murmur rather than distinguishable people. He was a Turk, and Turks never gave up when there was a mission to complete. They could fail and regroup or even change objectives, but they never gave up.

Feeling rushed back into Tseng's body, and he managed to jolt himself into an upright, standing position on the train. He carefully took in his surroundings letting the shock of being alive and the sensation of motion register. How did I get on the train? Didn't we discontinue it's operation? Why was I not informed of this sooner?, Tseng wrestled the unanswered questions down letting his usual sense of calm flow through. He had plenty of time to answer those questions once he got back to the Shinra building. Even the president would have some explaining to do about why he wasn't informed of important details like this.

The train came to a slow stop allowing him to disembark into Sector 7 which was rebuilt and looking just like it always had: improvished. He glanced skyward seeing the Upperplate above the slums to be in good working order meaning that Reeve had been busy and apaprently received the necessary funding, by some miracle, to repair the sector... at least to the point where the signs of the previous fight and destruction were no more, probably built over and picked clean by oppurtunistic inhabitants of the other sector slums.

Quietly, Tseng made his way through the poorly lit streets towards the bright glittering jewel of Wall Market in Sector 6. He was sure that he needed a drink, and seeing as he looked as bedraggled and unkempt as Reno, he saw no need to worry about following too many protocols. He would report in to Shinra when he was ready to, and once he managed to understand how he had transported himself away from the Ancient Temple, where the Turks were, and why he couldn't reconcile all the conflicting thoughts and emotions coursing through his head.

[Tseng]

The journey towards Sector 6 wasn't quite what Tseng had expected it to be. Throngs of angry people didn't move out of his way or give him the dirty looks he had expected, nor did large crowds of civilians mob together to protest the mass murder committed when Reno had armed and detonated the bomb on the Sector 7 Pillar. It was a welcomed surprise considering Tseng had thought he'd have to call Shinra for backup at least twice before reaching his destination or at worse having to request the assistance of a rapid response team meant to assist him in the pascification of the sector. Reeve had either performed his job better than usual or a pascification of the sector had already occurred and none of the usual remaining elements were left behind meaning that Shinra's coverup operation had been more effective then usual and not required that any guards be left behind to maintain the order. A small smile brightened Tseng's face. In reality, the answer was probably less complex; the people who watched his approach to Wall Market probably were under the impression that he had another bomb ready to detonate at a moment's notice. In some ways Rufus was right, fear was an excellent deterent.

Tseng's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a chain swinging through the air and the sudden impact of the chain meeting his left temple. Stars crossed his vision obscuring the follow up attack, however Tseng was a Turk and was prepared to defend himself. In a blur, he threw his body into the ground and rolled up using the momentum to help him draw his personal firearm. As Tseng rolled back onto his knees, he began to scan the area for his assailant only to get kicked in the hand sending his weapon sprawling just out of reach. The attack however gave away his opponent's position allowing him the oppurtunity to sweep the fool's leg out from under him in one fluid motion. As the man's overly muscled form hit the ground, Tseng leapt back to his feet and proceeded to calmly walk towards his opponent who was scrambling to get back up.

With a shake of his head, Tseng planted a foot against the fool's dirty, well worn t-shirt and pushed him onto his back. "You have made a grave error today."

The thug blinked in surprise as Tseng started to walk towards his gun leaving his back exposed. A rattle of chains told Tseng all he needed to know as he sped up and dove for the gun while twisting in the air to land on his side facing the thug his gun already aimed and steadied. Two rounds were squeezed off and lanced into the thug's arm and chest followed by a third into the forehead whipping the man backward and ending the encounter. Tseng rose to his feet and wiped the dust from his suit jacket and checking the man over for anything of value before continuing onward.

"Thank you for the gil," Tseng called over his shoulder as he continued towards Sector 6 leaving behind the dead thug and quite a bit of frustration.

[Tseng]

The gate between Sectors was closed barring Tseng's progess and preventing him from reaching his destination. Normally, a slight inconvience such as the Sector walls wouldn't have bothered him, instead the situation would have been just one more inconvience he would have filed away to deal with a later time. However, the circumstances seemed to still be arrayed against him as his ID card did not wish to cooperate with the aged card reader imbedded in the wall to the left of the massive door. Frustrated, he swiped the card again in a a vain attempt to get the screen to actually read it instead of constantly displaying the error message: "Error. Could not read card. Please try again." The card should have worked as Turk overrides were imbedded into most of the computers in the city, and at the very least, the thrice-cursed Mako powered abomination should have contained the protocols necessary to recognize a Shinra ID and requested the necessary password. In fact, Tseng would have settled for the ID to have requested a handprint, a voice print, and a DNA sample; if that had been the case, he would have just gone ahead and slid his secondary card he had imprinted with a Shinra Executive Authorization. However, the machine wouldn't even cooperate on that ridiculous and highly improbable level. Once again, the machine spat out his card and presented him with the glaring error message breaking Tseng out of his thoughts and bringing back to the frustrating task of finding a way around this blockage meant to keep the malcontents of the various Sectors from having easy methods of movement, however much good it had done them with AVALANCHE.

Tseng slammed his fist into the monitor hoping Reno's personal method of getting a broken piece of machinery to work would serve him equally as well; the machine did not cooperate and instead chose to give him a new error message followed by a polite request not to damage the machine under threat of a visit by Shinra Soldiers. Fat chance, Tseng mused. Shinra wouldn't be coming down here to investigate something as simple and mundane as equipment failure unless the Mayor was pestered enough or Reeve managed to convince the Board of Directors to do anything other then milk the city for all it was worth. No, Shinra wouldn't be coming down into the slums despite how helpful that would be to him; if they would arrive he could merely demand that they override the gate in the name of the Turks with no questions asked or at least none he would have to answer to anyone of importance. With a swift kick against the door, Tseng's calm was finally shattered. He did not consider himself a violent man or one with a massive temper (though some of his contemparies might disagree with his analysis), however the gate had finally managed to worm past the calm he had earned from executing the sector trash earlier. The foot's impact only sent Tseng backwards a step and enraged him further.

"All I wanted was a drink," Tseng angrily cried out towards the top of the gate and the floating plate above. A group of people passing by gave Tseng a curious look before carrying on attempting to ignore the crazy, ragged man talking to an inanimate gate.

The gate opened just as Tseng began contemplating putting a few rounds into the reader screen. A chocobo pulling a cart passed him heading into Sector 7 as he himself stepped into Sector 6. It was a fortuitous turn of events that projected him into the playground south of Wall Market, and it was here he found himself alone again his rage subsiding allowing a sense of peace ot return to his mind though his emotions remained tumultuous and his headached with a nagging sensation. Sector Six looked just as pristine as Sector 7 meaning Reeve's influence on the board must have expanded further then anyone had thought possible. No one on the board would have approved of repairing two full sectors unless Mako was somehow involved in the process.

Tseng made a mental note to ask the Elena about Reeve's recent political and corporate movements and machinations. If necessary he would assign her to watch over Reeve, he didn't feel the need to have another Rufus situation occur without his prior knowledge.

[Tseng]

The world aroudn Tseng was fairly bleak still as he took stock of his situation again, while he reached into his pocket for a smoke. A disappointed feeling washed over his body as his hand came up empty for either a lighter or even a package of cigarettes. He had probably dropped them during his encounter with Sephiroth and left them behind before he was transported onto the train in Sector 7. It was yet another annoyance he would remedy once in Wall Market; he would just pick up another pack there with the money he'd managed to steal from the former mugger.

A cold smile crossed his face as he thought about the man he had killed and just left behind to rot in these blighted streets. He almost had forgotten about the gil. Reaching into his pocket, Tseng pulled out the small bag of gil to see how much the thug had given him. The total came to only 200 gil, but it would suffice considering how cheap everything came in the slums. Tseng pocketed the gil again and took a seat on the bottom rung of the ladder leading up the strange animal head slide made of some sort of plastic. He wondered how many people before him had sat here and pondered exactly what he was thinking about right now; how many had looked at the floating plate above and thought about how annoying life could be when it chose not to cooperate? The answer was probably most everyone in the slums considering the level of poverty they had to deal with on a daily basis. It brought Tseng a cold comfort knowing that once he was done with his dalliance in Wall Market he would be able to return his nice warm bed in his apartment on the Upper Plate.

The smile faded from his face at his last thought. Why was he taking pleasure in the suffering of others? Had he been doing this job for too long now? Was it finally getting to him? The questions were fair ones considering how often he found himself drinking at the bar with Reno and Rude. They had done Shinra's dirty work for nearly a decade... or had it been longer? Murder, torture, kidnapping all were crimes which could be laid at the Turks' collective feets. No, Elena hadn't been with them long enough to dip her hands into the scarlet river they'd created. She of them all was at least somewhat innocent, which was probably why Reno was so hard on her. A smirk rose up to replace the long vanished smile, it was pretty obvious how much Reno had liked her.

A sigh escaped Tseng's lips as he pulled himself from his memories; he couldn't believe how much reminiscing he was doing right now. He was not known for his sentiments nor for being so attached to the past, but here he was wasting away his time in a dirty, decaying playground running through memories and ruminations. Cold shivers ran down his spine as he stood back up, perhaps all the reminiscing came from his recent brush with death. Afterall, he had almost died at the hands of one of Shinra's greatest SOLDIERs and just now was finding time to really think on it.

No, that can't be right, Tseng thought to himself his mind replaying the scene in his head. I am still a Turk and still alive. I do not fear death. I can't allow something simple as this shake my resolve.

The whirl of stale wind blew past Tseng sending his hair whipping about. Once it had passed, Tseng was once again left alone with only his thoughts.

[Tseng]

I thought I was going for a drink, Tseng thought caustically to himself. I guess by drink I meant sit around in a playground.

A couple of kids ran past towards Sector 6's Wall Market playing some inane game of tag through the dirty streets. They seemed carefree enough despite the danger of children moving alone through these wretched streets. Ignorance was truly bliss.

Once the children had passed, silence fell upon the empty playground once more which put Tseng on his guard. It finally registered that other than the children he hadn't seen anyone around here for quite sometime despite being one of the primary routes into Wall Market one of the slum's busiest blocks. A quick look around the playground's perimeter told him all he needed to know; he was surrounded. At least, twelve assailants probably armed with knives and various bludgeoning instruments stood heavily obscured by the natural shadows formed by the debris strewn around the area. Of course, they probably realized that he could now see them and were debating their next course of action. Inevitably, their decision would result in a great deal of bodily harm on themselves, but it really didn't matter. If they wanted to be sent to the morgue, he would be more than happy to oblidge.

Standing, Tseng straightened his badly rumpled collar and aimed a hand at the first semi-circle of opponents in front of him.

Idiots, they dare to attack a Turk? Do they really believe a Turk isn't prepared for such a fight?

The smile left Tseng's face as he cast a glance sideways his head cocked slightly to his right so as to catch the bare glimpse of the thugs formering the last half of the circle behind him, "So this is how the ungrateful citizens of this city treat a Shinra employee?"

With a flick of his wrist, Tseng's gun appeared in his hand; the arm remained stationary by his side. He could tell the thugs were less impressed than they should have been; it was time to finally explain to them the gravity of the situation.

"Perhaps an introduction is in order, my name is Tseng. Tseng of the Turks," he let the words hang in the air for a moment. Once, it had sunk in he was sure they would back down or run realizing how outclassed they truly were. It was thus a surprise to Tseng that instead of running as expected, the thugs move forward advancing on his position.

Are they mad or just suicidal?, Tseng shruged. It didn't matter either way. The fight would end now.

Tseng focused on the power of mako imbedded in his arm: "Demi."

Nothing happened which perplexed Tseng who quickly looked down the length of his arm only to see his dirt stained sleeve and exposed hand. The happy glow of materia noticeably absent. No materia? I thought I brought some to the Temple.

The thugs rushed forward towards Tseng just as he managed to raise his gun at them. He just hoped there was enough ammunition.

[Tseng]

Tseng's thoughts were halted by the reality of twelve armed thugs who began their attack; he was no slouch but this sort of situation was better suited to Reno and Rude's particular talents. The first ratty opponent managed to graze him with a glass covered chain; Tseng's reflects allowed him to lean back just in time to have it only create a small gash along his forehead. A rush of wind rushed past his face in the wake of the chain's deadly path. Before he could recover, a second strike came from behind as one of the vagabonds managed to grapple him. With his arms pinned against his back in a painful position, the third thug was able to easily smash his fist into Tseng's stomach doubling him over long enough to have a knee slam into his face from the same man. Blood trickled from his lips and down his chin as the impact rattled his teeth probably knocking one loose. The fourth assailant now had a Shinra standard issue semi-auto placed roughly against his temple.

"It's over Shinra punk," the man's voice boomed in a deep staccato. "Time to pay what you owe."

Through sheer force of will, Tseng managed to lift his head to face the man's dirt smeared face. Tseng's eyes dug deep into the dirty man's soul piercing past the layer of filth with an intimidating glare: "Apparently, you have never met a Turk. We've already paid or debts."

The force of Tseng's kick to the stomach of the thug in front of him was enough to send the thug stumbling. At that moment, Tseng thought back to his hand to hand instructor when he had first been recruited to the Turks. An ice cold feeling erupted in his stomach as he subsumed the firey pain in his body and began to focus on the energy held deep within. A trickle of sweat fell from his brow as he drew upon those hidden reserves of strength the ice cold rage catalyzing his combat skills into a fine point.

Quickly, he wretched his hand free and began moving amongst his attackers like a ghost his image fleeting and emphermal. A series of bullets launched at him which Tseng gracefully sidestepped his motions fluid and his reactions uncanny. The series of strikes from his unarmed opponent who had just recovered from being kicked missed by bare inches, Tseng dodged gracefully as he knew exactly where they were going to land. The thugs at the outer ring stood mesmerized by the display unable to comprehend the situation their gazes and bodies frozen in time.

The dirty faced man with the semi-auto couldn't understand why Tseng was so damnably hard to hit not realizing his own reactions were dwindling in response to Tseng's Limit. The chain fighter attempted to swing the impromtu weapon at Tseng's position only to hit the person who had formerly been holding Tseng in place.

A sharp gaze at the probably ringleader, the dirty faced man with the staccato voice, conveyed Tseng's entire message; they should never have messed with a Turk.

[Fujin]

[OOC: I apologize for not posting yet - I often have periods of several days where I'm unable to be online, and this one just happened to last longer than most. I've got a bit to do tomorrow still, but after that I'll get to work ^_^;; ]

[Tseng]

(OOC: It's alright. I guessed that you might have ended up with real life things to deal with. I just got excited and started posting a little early because I haven't had a chance to do something with Final Fantasy for years. Just jump on in whenever you want =^.^= )

The gaze however did not provide Tseng with any innate resilience to the wounds he had previously sustained; it seemed Sephiroth's strike hadn't actually healed completely like he assumed it had. The instructors at the academy would have ripped him to shreds for such as foolish assumption. Afterall, the adrenaline from his encounter in the Ancient Temple wouldn't have worn off so quickly though that still didn't explain why he wasn't bleeding still nor why he was still lived. A lightning bolt of pain ached through his body bringing his thoughts back into the present just in time for him to dodge another round from the semi-auto. The second wave still stood frozen in place which meant Tseng would have enough time to bring this fight to a close before the pain took a hold of him.

Bringing his leg down low in a sweeping gesture, Tseng knocked the legs out from under the dirty-faced ringleader. The momentum carried Tseng back onto his own feet in time to squeeze off a single round at the stunned and blinded thug to his right sending the former chain fighter into the afterlife a pained expression permenantly etched onto his face. A sharp pain exploded in Tseng's chest as he landed another round this time into the unarmed thug's torso. The shot probably wasn't enough to kill, but it didn't have to for the fight to end.

Finally, he managed to push past the pain completely continuing his kata without regard for safety or sanity as he moved into melee range with the second wave of opponents ignoring the recovering third wave behind them. Three waves of four, have to stay sharp. Keep focused.

Hitting a hidden button on his own gun, Tseng switched the weapon from semi-automatic to a hairtrigger full auto mode meant to allow for a rate of fire comparable to his current speeds. Hot lead flew like hungry wolves towards their paralyzed targets shredding flesh and piercing through layers of worn padding. ShinRa Standard Issues had at least one or two suprises the average civilian didn't expect.

When the dust settled, Tseng stood alone amidst a small cluster of badly injured and shredded people all with stunned, confused, or even frightened expressions hollowed into their eyes. Tseng's expression had gone back to the rigid mask he donned when he prepared for a mission. He took pride in his work but there were times when the stupidity innate to the human condition irritated him beyond reason. Why doesn't anyone ever choose to learn the easy way?

Once the gun was holstered, Tseng started off again for Wall Market. The spent, empty clip lay on the ground behind him as was the scene of carnage. No one else had better trouble him this evening... afterall, he was on break...

[Tseng]

The sounds of clamoring music and late night crowds filled the air as Tseng approached Wall Market's southmost entrance. Lights flashed in sequences meant to draw the eye and beggars wandered the streets, eyes ever vigilant for those who paid too little attention to their pockets. A small group of children played amongst the small crowds moving between restruants, bars and shops. A couple of off duty Shinra soldiers moved amongst the crowd as well most likely heading for the Honey Bee Inn rather than a bar. Afterall, if they merely wanted a drink off-shift there were plenty of better establishments on the upper plate.
Shinra employees would only come down here if they needed to escape the world above and what better way than by visiting Wall Market's star attraction?

A pair of highly conspicuous muscleheads were intermixed amongst the crowded streets their eyes scanned the crowd in an intimidating manner. They were most likely Don Cornero's men keeping an eye out for troublemakers or active law enforcement personnel not currently on the Don's payroll. He knew immediately by their stances that his presence was just the sort of trouble they were meant to keep an eye on. Unlike the incompetent thugs Tseng had fought earlier these men were most likely prepared to deal with him even if it was by the dint of sheer numbers and persistience. However, they wouldn't have anything to worry about tonight; he wasn't here for the Don. No, he was still here to relax and enjoy a drink. As long as they didn't push him too hard, he saw no need to do anything about the Don's operation. If they pushed though, he was still a Turk.

Getting to the bar was easy enough tonight, it seemed more people were interested in something else. In fact, Tseng was lucky enough to get a seat at the bar rather than having to sit back in a booth like expected. Idly, he mulled over what to order tonight his index finger tapping lightly against the bartop. As he did so he found himself steadly drifting back to the moments leading up to his sudden reappearance in Midgar. One question still nagged at the back of his mind despite his attempts to ignore it... how did I survive?

[Tseng]

Tseng shook his head in confusion as he sat with an emotionless, blank face eyes plastered to the bar's counter. He survived an encounter with Sephiroth which was not all too surprising when one realized that the legendary SOLDIER had not been specifically out to kill him. However miraculous his sruvival had been, it was his mysterious teleportation to Midgar which had him most perplexed. No one in Shinra's military or on the board of directors had the technology necessary to move him here, so his best bet was it had something to do with Hojo. If not Hojo then perhaps something to do with Sephiroth's growing strength and connection to the Mako energies buried beneath the surface of the planet.

A pair of shadows had slowly grown to his left and right lengthening across the countertop. They were approximately twice half again his size more than likely better armed. His best guess was that they were associated with the Don rather than yet another set of hooligans maurading through the streets looking for targets. It was in that instant another memory trickled back into Tseng's consciousness.

Didn't Reno and Rude dismantle Don Cornero in Wutai? He vaguely recalled such an operation and how the entire lot of them had been fairly quiet on Elena's precise role in the operation. They only said she had been integral in their efforts to uncover the Don's exact location and had assisted in distracting him long enough for them to get the drop on him and his men. The entire report was fairly spotty, but at the time, he had been preoccupied with his own mission to the Temple...

A strong, greasy hand was placed on his shoulder; the knuckles were scarred and worn from years of hard labor. One final thought crossed Tseng's mind as the hand's mate swung across his peripheral vision. Oh yeah, today was not a going to be a good day.

[Tseng]

A rush of wind passed his face as Tseng pushed himself backwards past the two rather well armed men and onto the floor. The impact knocked some of the wind from his body, but he managed a backwards somersault which propelled him back onto his feet in one fluid motion. Without missing a beat, the semi-automatic was once more in his left hand, the barrel aimed at the taller of the two men. A cold expression occuppied Tseng's face which was returned with a snarl by the smaller of the two.

The smaller one was dressed in biker leather with metal studs covering a good portion of his jacket and pants. Stylized tattoos ran the length of his arms formering into a pattern Tseng could not identify. The man had a bandana wrapped around his sweaty, red face and a length of pipe rested tightly between his hands. All in all the guy looked rather ridiculous assualting a Turk in public if it had not been for the simple fact that Tseng was most definitely still out of bullets as revealed by his cocked back slide and missing clip. In the end, it was Tseng who looked foolish at the moment; he really should have stopped by a weapon's shop before coming here.

This isn't like me. Why is it I'm continually finding myself unprepared for these encounters? Who in their right mind forgets to rearm after running out of ammunition? This isn't me.

"Well, well it looks like he's outta ammo," the tall man said with a toothy grin.

"It would seem so," the shorter one replied. "Here I thought ex-Turks were supposed to be tough."

Ex-Turk, the question echoed through Tseng's head. How could he be an ex-Turk? He hadn't been away on the mission for that long and had made regular reports before encountering Sephiroth. Did this have something to do with the rebuilding of Sector 7 and the restoration of the surrounding Sectors? A grim thought crossed Tseng's mind Was I set up? Was his death at the hands of Sephiroth planned out from the very beginning?

Movement from the smaller man snapped Tseng out of his reverie, he needed to focus on the task at hand. It didn't matter whether some new force within Shinra had decommissioned him or not. Until he was told otherwise, he was still a Turk. He had to be...

[Tseng]

The small man's clenched fist hammered into Tseng's stomach doubling him over from the pain. A cold sensation echoed through his body as he felt blunt metal pressed against the flesh exposed by the tears in his shirt. The man was armed with brass knuckles which had caught him offguard. Pull it together, Tseng thought to himself his own hand grabbed the small man's wrist and twisted it backwards with a sickening snap. With a sudden pull, Tseng had the man stumble forward and into his rising knee which connected with the small man's chest. The force jerked the arm Tseng still had a grip on out of socket illiciting a sharp cry from the small man who was now on his knees eyes shot full of pain. The larger man could only look on stunned which was what Tseng had expected. They had underestimated him just as much as he had of them.

In a cool, collected voice Tseng spoke his eyes levelled evenly at the large man who stood frozen in place. "A Turk never surrenders; a Turk never quits. We are a force of nature. You cannot hope to kill us, defeat us or stop us. To get in our way is to perish and to challenge us is to face eternal damnation."

A sensation of warmth ran through Tseng's body deadening the pain he felt in his chest, and a new found energy rushed into his body reinvigorating his muscles. With a flick of the wrist, Tseng had the gun flipped over to where he gripped it now by the barrel. The large man only had enough time to blink before Tseng had taken a step towards him releasing his smaller companion. In an instant, Tseng whirled around bringing the handle of the gun in a spinning upward strike. The blow connected with the large man's jaw with enough force to crack bone and send him upwards and back a ways. A couple of chairs broke the man's fall knocking him out cold. A sidelong glance to his smaller man sent the guy sprinting for the door in fright.

Without a word, Tseng was once again sitting at the bar his mind once more contemplating the words spoken just a moment ago.

[Tseng]

Tseng requested a shot of gin from the bartender his eyes never leaving the counter in front of him. The sound of gin being poured into the glass acted as a backdrop to his deep contemplation of the situation at hand. As the glass slid across the table towards him, he could only think about the thugs and their declaration of him being an ex-Turk. It wasn't a pleasant thought, but he had to admit the facts seemed to add up. The organization probably assumed his death despite a lack of body in the Temple, and if Reeve had gained control over Shinra's board then it stood to reason Tseng's passcodes would have been quickly removed to prevent the other Turks from accessing high level information related to their assignment. In other words, the Turks were probably on the outs with Shinra, and Tseng was legally dead for all intents and purposes.

The glass came to a stop in front of him, and he absently lifted the shot to his lips. He absently tipped his head back and consumed the firey liquid ending the motion by slamming the glass back down with a thunk. The alcohol burned slightly on the way down though the feeling was lost on the introspective Turk. Music began in the background eminating from the small juke box in the corner; it was a sad song and less lively than Tseng would have preferred at the moment. Regardless, the song matched Tseng's outlook on the situation. He was alone, tired, and most of all out of options. At the thought of being alone, Tseng reached into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone setting it down gently onto the counter beside his shot glass. It was his last working piece of tech in his possession and currently the most useless. No one whose number he possessed would either believe he was alive or care, and the one person he actually wanted to call right now probably still hated him along with the rest of the AVALANCHE terrorists.

A small smile passed over his somber face as he gazed at the cellphone. Despite all his confusion and lack of direction, he did know one thing for certain: he did finally get that drink he wanted.

[Tseng]

Tseng tapped the counter once more to get the bartender's attention nodding his thanks as the shot reached it's destination. He did enjoy moments like these when he could actually take the time to relax and forget about his troubles. The alcohol helped him let go of all his worries and unwind; the terrible sounds being emitted from the jukebox provided decent atmosphere. All he was missing were the other Turks and their peculiar brand of humor. The thought of the other Turks brightened his expression; he gulped down the shot while thinking back to the times the group found themselves together at a bar. Reno would always make a laughable attempt at drinking Rude under the table. It was an impossible feat but only because Rude never took off his glasses, and Reno always missed the fact that Rude usually passed out but remained upright. It was quite the sight to see Reno arguing with the stalwart, silent Rude's unconsious form.

And then there was Elena and her hairbrained antics, she always fussed over their health. They drank too much she would say, or they would be acting irresponsible. She would lay into Reno and Rude for their excessive drinking habits and their lack of decorum even when off duty. Tseng almost laughed at the image. Elena did have a firey temper that rivaled Reno's at times. However, bad it was for the others though Tseng had it the worst as Elena never laid into him. Instead, she would spend the entire time admiring his actions while explaining to the others how he was so great or always on duty. It was a tough standard to live up to, and it didn't help that in order to keep her from losing complete faith in the organization he had to make an effort at being the icon she expected of him.

Bah! All the Turks expected him to be great and terrible, a veritable force of nature. He always had to be aloof and distant in order to maintain his objectivity and position of authority while making sure to acknowledge their independence and unique dispositions. One of these days, he had expected the Turks to get together and attempt to get him to lighten up with a party or something equally as ridiculous. Another shot slid down into his vision which he promptly reached for. The liquid didn't even get a chance to touch his tongue before sliding down his throat.

[Tseng]

The shot tasted cheap and terrible, but it was what he currently could afford. The hadn't been very good at his occupation and had only a couple hundred gil on him to spare Tseng after their encounter. If the guy had been worth his salt he'd at least have had a couple of thousand on his person for Tseng to have relieved him of; some days it seemed as if the Turks were the last bastion of professionalism beneath the slime filled underbelly of Midgar. What he would have given to see Elena's expression at that thought. An image of a small volcano exploding appeared in his mind's eye followed by a shockwave similar to that of of the Junon Cannon's blast radius. Elena would have then imploded on herself, a star fading into the backdrop of space leaving naught but an empty void behind.

Tseng sighed loudly to himself as he tapped the bar for yet another shot to be slid his way. He never would do it of course because to break her so thoroughly was unmutual and a waste of resources. Tseng furled his eyebrows at himself. No, it had nothing to do with professional and supposed resouces. He never hurt her like that because she was a Turk, and they supported each other before all else. It was his one personal foible he was allowed by the Shinra hierarchy. He knew if it wasn't for the unique nature of the organization and the members who comprised it he would have never been allowed to even conceive of treating his subordinates so well. A scowl crossed his face covering the area around his face in deep shadows. Rufus and his policies were quite different from his father's and in Tseng's mind, they had dubious utility at best for the company as a whole. The Turks were the stiletto in the night, no question. However, the entire company being wielded as a threat was an entirely different situation. Rebellion was breed from overuse of fear and considering the monolithic nature of Shinra it wasn't too much of a stretch to see the new policies create larger and more powerful AVALANCHES.

A clink echoed through the bar as Tseng's glass reconnected with the table for the third time this evening. Back when Rufus's father had been still alive Shinra would have just kept the people too content to rebel and bought of those they could. AVALANCHE would have found less and less support amongst the populace as they were given better living conditions and food packages. It was the old theory of the carrot and the stick. Rufus, he was a fool who needed to learn a lesson in politics.

The next shot went down like a bomb finding its mark. He really did miss the others no matter what they thought of him. They had been his friends and the only ones to at least approach something of familiarity with. They may have feared him, been irritated by him, or worshiped him, but it was far better than the alternative he faced now... he was more alone now than ever before. He couldn't even walk back to Shinra now. All he had were memories of a better time.

What would have happened if I had never followed that one order? What if I had just gone ahead and defected for her? Tried to save her instead of capture her? Who would I have been then...