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It's been a surprisingly fun few weeks in Midgar, but today it's coming to an end. Artemis lounges around in bed as long as possible, nursing a hangover because apparently people just do that here, but eventually someone in a dark suit shows up to collect him with a distinctly unimpressed air.
That makes two of us, Artemis thinks, and ignores the guy as he wanders around his suite packing up. It's another hour - nearly noon - by the time he's finished trying to shove a lot of shopping he'd done in the city into the already overstuffed bags he'd come with. By the time Artemis is sliding his oversized sunglasses protectively over his eyes there are more than a few cracks in the suit's professional demeanor. A few more appear as Artemis hands him two suitcases and a backpack. Should have sent a bellboy instead of a jailer. Artemis, Turk, four suitcases and three backpacks make their way to the elevators in mutually annoyed silence.
It only lasts far enough for Artemis to jam the button to take them to the parking garage where they'll be departing from, unfortunately.
"President Shinra sends his apologies for not sending you off in person."
"I'm sure he does." Artemis really couldn't care less.
"He wishes you a safe journey back," the Turk continues, ignoring the interjection. "and hopes that you'll give his regards to President Hart."
"I'm sure I will." Artemis absolutely won't. He's seen exactly what ShinRa wanted him to see here, and he'll pass that on if he has to. The way ShinRa's building a super-soldier army is pretty concerning, or would be if Artemis actually cared about CITIE at all these days. Or anything.
He wants a drink. Or breakfast.
He doesn't get either of those. What he does get is one of ShinRa's little human experiments waiting on him by the car. An important one, too. Artemis had seen the man running drills for a group of them, clearly in charge, clearly at ease just a few days ago. Not the butcher, not Sephiroth, but... What had it been?
"Fair," says the Turk. Artemis snaps his fingers and points.
"Zack, right?
That makes two of us, Artemis thinks, and ignores the guy as he wanders around his suite packing up. It's another hour - nearly noon - by the time he's finished trying to shove a lot of shopping he'd done in the city into the already overstuffed bags he'd come with. By the time Artemis is sliding his oversized sunglasses protectively over his eyes there are more than a few cracks in the suit's professional demeanor. A few more appear as Artemis hands him two suitcases and a backpack. Should have sent a bellboy instead of a jailer. Artemis, Turk, four suitcases and three backpacks make their way to the elevators in mutually annoyed silence.
It only lasts far enough for Artemis to jam the button to take them to the parking garage where they'll be departing from, unfortunately.
"President Shinra sends his apologies for not sending you off in person."
"I'm sure he does." Artemis really couldn't care less.
"He wishes you a safe journey back," the Turk continues, ignoring the interjection. "and hopes that you'll give his regards to President Hart."
"I'm sure I will." Artemis absolutely won't. He's seen exactly what ShinRa wanted him to see here, and he'll pass that on if he has to. The way ShinRa's building a super-soldier army is pretty concerning, or would be if Artemis actually cared about CITIE at all these days. Or anything.
He wants a drink. Or breakfast.
He doesn't get either of those. What he does get is one of ShinRa's little human experiments waiting on him by the car. An important one, too. Artemis had seen the man running drills for a group of them, clearly in charge, clearly at ease just a few days ago. Not the butcher, not Sephiroth, but... What had it been?
"Fair," says the Turk. Artemis snaps his fingers and points.
"Zack, right?