#{ Turk Verse }

[holyguardian]

he had sworn never to call the number when she'd given it to him by cosmo canyon - it was just another possible thread that could lead someone to them. but he hadn't factored in a rebellious teenager and his need to act out. he took precautions, not using his own cell, but a phone broden kept in the back room of the inn. she picked up on the second ring, 'i have kunsel, an old friend of mine found him in kalm, tell lodbrok i'll meet him near junon.'

@kunselxsoldier and @soldier-lodbrok

Ifalna knew better than to pick up on a strange number and answer. She waited, as always, for the other end to speak first. Though in this rare case she didn't have to wait longer than a beat.

It was Veld's voice on the other end.

He would hear a sharp inhale from her end at the mention of Kunsel. Oh. Oh, thank Gaia, her boy was safe... he was safe, right?

"Is he unharmed?" There came her first yes or no question. She could already feel the clock ticking down before the seasoned Turk would simply hang up. That had happened a few times to her already with Glenn, calls from the field weren't time to chat.

"The family and the farm, none of it is compromised?" Of course she wanted to know what happened. Had Kunsel been harassed by Shinra? It was easy enough to figure out how a teenager had gotten to a place they weren't supposed to be, she wrangled her own window-climbing-sneak artist after all. Though usually the pair of them were trying to get somewhere together, at least Aerith had been left out of this whim to walk memory lane.

"Thankyou Veld." The worry that creased Ifalna's expression tinged her tone. She could be grateful and concerned at the same time. People were multifaceted.

[tsukinoiri]

&. @badassbarmaid

"sooo i hear ya got somethin' new on the menu? what's it this time?"

[exturk]

I want cissnei to have a partner! Like how Rude and Reno are ....

...I think it would be fun!

[caeca-iustitia]

Turk Leader Vincent

Vincent is a strict yet caring leader who doesn’t take flack from anyone; least of all Heidegger who they both resent and consider moronic.

They became leader of the Turks after Verdot defected.

They rarely leave the office in the ShinRa building, attending meetings with their staff and the Department Heads every few weeks, as they handle the administrative work that many Turks resent.

Their staff has an understanding that calling Vincent to missions is a last resort and that there is an expectation that they pick up a few extra jobs as a fair trade.

Vincent is not a moron and is very aware of Reeve’s influence in AVALANCHE’s affairs and, while they don’t strictly agree with his actions, they turn a blind eye to his clear betrayal of ShinRa as it is ultimately for the greater good.

They changed the blue uniform to black after becoming leader because it was both more professional and because the blue uniform was an uncomfortable reminder of their time in the ShinRa Manor.

Vincent trained Tseng, Reno, Rude, and Elena personally but indirectly trained many other Turks under Verdot’s leadership before taking over with Tseng as their second-in-command.

They recruit those that not only fit the skillset of the Turks but also those that, in particular, wouldn’t otherwise fit into the SOLDIER program or survive the mako treatments required to become a SOLDIER.

While they do keep an eye on Aerith, they tend to fabricate reports about her to satisfy the Department Heads because they know what she is and how valuable her life is. They don’t want to see her used by Hojo in his sick experiments, so they lie to protect her from that fate.

-##-

In terms of uniform, Vincent has a unique style of dress. They changed their suit jacket for a long open coat over the typical white dress shirt and black slacks. They wear boots under their pants and have a single black glove over their right hand. 

While in the office, they remove the jacket and gauntlet to work more efficiently. They roll their sleeves up and put on a pair of maroon bi-focal glasses so they don’t strain their eyes reading the small text of most reports and documents.

When in the field, they wear their jacket and gauntlet which helps to conceal any weapons they carry. The gauntlet helps to eliminate a potential weakness for opponents to exploit and gives them a decently effective melee weapon. They don a pair of sunglasses not too dissimilar to those of Rude to protect their eyes. 

-##-

Vincent has a neutral or outwardly hostile relationship with many other department heads barring Reeve Tuesti and Lazard Deusericus. They have a mutually beneficial relationship relating to the people of Midgar and keeping their employees safe. 

However, they still don’t trust either of them and will do almost anything to protect their Turks. 

They work well alongside the other director to provide special backup by sending their Turks on missions with the SOLDIERs and investigating internal and external matters relating to the well-being/safety of SOLDIER candidates.

[solbound]

@reapersxfolly

He failed a mission, yet again.

Silently, he stared down at the body he had been tasked to eliminate. Lifeless and still as crimson red blood pooled from the wound at his chest. It was a clean shot. But it wasn't Soleil's work, yet he felt that burn of remorse in his chest anyway.

"Is this really what it means to be a Turk? Or just what it means to work for Shinra?" He'd say in a low tone, more to himself than anyone else. His tone was hollow, empty. He didn't take any pride in this like the others did. But then... perhaps he was too sensitive.

He couldn't seem to make it as a SOLDIER, and now it was clear that he wasn't going to make it as a Turk either. A change from a turtleneck to a suit really didn't make a difference. He was still too soft for the work he was forced into.

[soldier-lodbrok]

[ BACK ]:    sender stands behind the receiver while in the midst of battle in order to help them fight off their enemies.

Open battles always were bad - but unavoidable at times. Glenn didn't like them. He could handle himself in a fight. But he mostly stood there to protect those of the SRC, who couldn't. He didn't want to kill SOLDIERs and grunts of Shinra. He aimed to disarm and knock out. But if they forced his hand, he'd rather save one of his own than spare an enemy.

This attack had been an ambush. Cowardly. Glenn cursed Shinra under his breath for that. Hopefully these things would end... if the future leader if Shinra held his promises, there was hope for that at least.

Stepping back, Glenn heard the scuffing of steps behind him - before a blazing burst of flames went past him. He felt the heat on the skin of his face, turning away instinctively - and hearing the screams of a soldier behind him.

Looking up - there was someone Glenn had believed to be a ghost. Veld. The Turk that had once interrogated him, years ago, on the happenings at Rhadore.

Though... he had defended him. Intel on Veld was muddy at best. And that made Glenn tense - though not as tense as the pained screams of the soldier Veld had just burned.

Still. The rebel warily lifted his axe in Veld's direction, his eyes full of questions.

@exiled-turk

[chronicparagon]

[heavenprotect]

it's a given that no matter what verse he's in, steve is always a menace to some authority figures

[sentofight]

' honour and glory is just the dream they sell you, isn't it? a beautiful paradisiac illusion, in which people love you, hail your name and your deeds. my father was a fighter, too. murderer, more accurately. you can only carry that burden, and decide what to do now that you're aware of what your actions mean. ' ( aaaand Zack, context whomst? )

Buster sword rest against his forehead, in his usual manner, the FIRST class mutters his now personal mantra after a successful mission. Mako infused eyes opens and darts towards his mission partner--a new one, a new Turk agent. A smile curls his lips after seeing how she just mowed down the enemies with ease.

"Wow, you got a way with these weapons of yours, eh?" the FIRST class twirled his sword and placed it on his back, amazed by the new turk agent he got assigned a mission with. She is fierce. He thought Tseng was the hard core one, looks like this new agent is the no-mercy type. Not his type of partners but hey, it's not like he can choose them--he wishes.

"Huh?" he crossed his arms, head tilted to the side with a confused look. "O-oh ... sorry for what happened to your father, but I am not him." he shook his head and of course, whatever 'strife' comes his way, there is always a smile to fight it back. "There is nothin' wrong with having a dream! Actually, mine is to be come a hero! It's not something just brainwashed it in me. I know I want to be one not because someone sold it to me. I mean, I did see how cool SOLDIERS were when I was a kid but being cool is not just the thing that made me chose this path--I know I can MAKE a change, ya' know."

Nodding sagely, he walks in a circle and continues, "Your father chose his own path--whatever that path was, I chose mine, too. So, you did. It's about how we can face the choices we made, right? I'd like to think I'm pretty good with handling whatever comes my way. All I have to do is swing my sword and help people, right?" he flashed a smile at her. "I don't need ... a deep reason to help others, and besides, if my actions can get someone to change and pursue something they want then I'd say that's a win in my book, heh."

Hands rest over his waist, Zack took a moment, breathing in before turning back to his partner. "I get that we don't always have answers--heck, we can't even understand some situations we are thrown in, but I know we can work out anything if we just kept moving forward. Taking a break is dandy and all but stoppin'; surrenderin' is not an option in our line of work, right miss Turk?"

i asked for an ask! thank you~ | @furiaei

[holyguardian]

❛ i want you to forget this ever happened. ❜

Dialogue prompts.

Ifalna made a request that took weeks to fulfil. Honestly, she expected to be denied — how long had it been? Veld had been promoted shortly into her capture, and with his reassignment there was little-to-no reason for their lives to cross paths again.

To witness him walk back into her humble containment cell was less of a wonderful thing than she had in mind. He was polite, back then, but the man who walked through those doors was as changed as her. Layers upon layers had built up. He wasn't a man who glanced a kid that reminded him just enough of his own daughter to feel something, that had been long-buried.

His cold professional demeanour was nothing, though, compared to the state of her.

Ifalna, a nurturing mother doting over her newborn a distant 7 years ago looked like a shell of her former self.

She sat in a wheelchair. Though that wasn't exactly the truth. She was so devoid of strength that she slumped back. Her healthy weight had slowly diminished too. Not even her flowing clothes or the blanket upon her lap and halfway up her arms could hide how frail she looked.

The security camera was ever watching over them. What was said in this meeting could be scrutinised, and so she planned her words to perfection. Something that could be mistaken as a mother's plea for one thing, when it was a plea for something just barely hidden away.

"I wanted to ask... one last favour." Ifalna spoke, as though even speaking took its toll. She hitched a pained breath, her hands lifting, just enough to pull at the fabric of her dress. Red, angry lines were immediately apparent. The kind of marring that only came about from drastic surgery, and the further she pulled at her dress, the more horrible the unspoken stories. "Protect Aerith... don't let this happen to her..."

There was little time to linger. Her caretaker, Marielle, entered the room mere moments later. No doubt having been sent by whatever lead scientist currently surveyed the Cetra's live feed.

It had hopefully been enough. Most people would have studied the surface level. It was a mother's plea to someone she saw as like a bodyguard — a last ditch attempt to sway how her daughter would be treated under the 'care' of the science division.

That was the sum of their reunion. Ifalna held eye contact with the man while she was made more presentable again, and a couple of white coats came to see him out. This would cause a stir, but her words had deeper meaning.

There was still hope for the future yet. The Cetra, who had waited for the world to be kinder, for there to be a hero that would rescue her from the injustices she and her daughter suffered, had finally taken matters into her own hands.

Veld would uncover small moments. Fleeting. Faz Hicks was assigned to Ifalna's care, and the man had fallen into a blind obsession, one that she used to urge him on. There were blind spots in some of the surveillance footage, but the Turks were able to pull audio from multiple sources to piece together the puzzle. His 'dear Ifalna' would have a home.

Unusual activity in Hicks bank account backed the statement — he had recently purchased a home in the undercity, Sector 3. Among the activity was a large purchase from a department store for children.

The clues for their upcoming escape attempt were all there.

And yet, it went without a hitch. While the alarms sounded for a breach in monster containment, Ifalna and Aerith were smuggled out of the building and into a truck with crates bound for a freight train. Though rather than staying with the plan the pair emerged at Sector 4 station and ran the opposite direction.

What was running for Ifalna was a brisk power walk for anyone else, something that worked out in her favour in the end.

She felt faint. The stumble in her steps, the threat of her legs giving way. She almost collapsed in a heap near Sector 5 — when a mysterious figure stepped in and helped steady her. It was a small gesture in the grand scheme of it all. Miniscule. But he helped her to walk the length to a small table with chairs so that she could sit down to catch her breath.

It was only then that she caught his face. It was Veld sitting across the table from them, barely concealed. The fear that surged up inside her must have reached her face because it prompted him to sit forward.

"I want you to forget this ever happened."

Ifalna slowly nodded her head while Aerith perked up beside her. "Are you here to help us on our adventure?"

"Sweetheart..." Ifalna softly guided her daughter's attention to her. "This is very important for our adventure. We did not meet a man tonight. Okay?" If the worst happened, if they were recaptured, Shinra would reconstruct what had gone on the night the Cetra escaped. Veld was a piece of the puzzle that could never come to light.

Then she looked to him, a touch wary. "We can go...?" Without any strings?

[grieverled-moved]

𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐋 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐀 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑, 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐔𝐋, 𝐀𝐋𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓-𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒. He's careful, treating the other man like he was made of glass, something fragile, precious. He was, Squall argues internally, voice a whisper as he keeps his gaze cast down, flitting along Zack's frame where he remains perched, both keenly hyper aware of the space between & the parts where they make contact. The fabric of his pants is both welcome & frustrating, but they haven't had a chance to truly breathe in peace for a while.

Time moved too fast, missions grew in difficulty, something sinister seemingly brewing away beneath the stretching seams of Shinra in a way that made the Turk flinch, twitch, anxiously grow in his own restless unease as he felt something rising just along the horizon. Something he couldn't quite name, something he knows, pessimistically so, he'd likely have very little power in stopping.

That frustrating feeling of futility, it clings to his bones like tar, tainting everything until he feels so weighed down by his uncertain grief, it's noticeable to those that weren't as close to him as the man below him was.

Fingers curl, splaying softly to cup at the back of Fair's neck, thumb tracing along the side of his throat where he can feel Zack's steady pulse beat away beneath his skin. Strong, living, constant, reassuring that the fool of a man was really here over bleeding out somewhere because his golden heart demanding he take the brunt of a beating. He was so well-meaning, so genuine in his offered care - it'd always stun Squall speechless, always leave him trailing after his heels with worry as he tries to help keep things from escalating.

As he goes to slip his eyes shut tiredly, simply soaking in the moment & all it's shared quiet closeness, hands keep him steady, one moving, lifting, the brush of warm & living hands shifting to cradle at the side of his face. When Zack speaks, Squall reopens his eyes, peering down at the SOLDIER with glacial calm sights, melting along their frigid edges in earned softness, the barest lean into his hand as he scoffs out a light puff of air in a slight laugh. Maybe he was worried the other could do better. Hell he should. He deserved that much, but he reminded himself how little control the other already seemed to have in his life as is, how others often pushed their views on him.

It's calm enough to silence his woes, even if they weren't what sparked his silent pensiveness, the air of mourning that seemed to drape itself along him like a funeral veil. Shedding it for the moment, his eyes garner an old sharpness back to them, burning like frostbite in their wolfish depths as they lock back on bright inhuman sights of mako tinged skies. His tongue peeks between parted lips, wetting daintily along their curved edge before his brows furrow in determination. Leaning in, using his hold on the man's neck to guide him forwards, Squall grants a kiss, languid & lingering, mouthing what he didn't have the courage to say out loud in loving gestures. All expressed in loud caresses that end in him resting his forehead against the dark-haired swordsman's.

Breathless, he takes a moment to soothe his beating heart, gaze searching Zack's own before they thin to match to crescent of his smile.

❝ You got me attached. Made it so I'm going to struggle to find someone else after you. ❞ Maybe harsh, maybe out of place. Realistic as he'd argue. Couples weren't often known to last long. In their line of work, with how different they were . . . he isn't sure if the delicate form of their bond would survive whatever came next. That looming storm on the horizon prickled at his spine, momentarily smoothed away when Zack runs a hand up the curve of his back, dipping beneath the rim of his shirt to explore the now bared skin beneath.

His free hand lifts, curling under Fair's chin, a tender stroke of a finger given as something fond quivers in his tone.

❝ Ever the hero. You somehow won me over. ❞

*𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ➤ @myristicisms [ ; ] “ I don’t want anyone else. No one else can make me feel like you do. ” ;; From Zack

[akumanoken]

sweet stinger Souji is so fucking awake rn now....

can't imagine why....

[gcldfanged]

💿!!

What the hell are you to me? The lamb is neither wandering around nor being led astray “I hate this-" “It hurts-" Just because of that, you’re thinking— “Such a shame, such a shame!” So you’re going to drag me over the coals, right? Brimming with momentary anger, you just want to shine faintly - Bottom by Hiragii Kirai

The crack of Tseng's gloved hand across the high angle of his cheekbone is more jarring than painful, Jae-hyo's expression going strangely blank for a moment. Anger didn't sledgehammer it's way out of the narrow cage of his ribs so much as it slowly oozed like magma down the length of his neck and through his torso- Like branches of fiery veins and sparking nerves searing through a statue hewn from the coldest stone.

Yoon's eyes are dull with resentment at his senior, what he perceived to be a wretched and mirthless stiff-lipped ghost of a man pretending to have some semblance of morality.

"... Who the Hell are you to judge me. The job was obviously 'too dirty' for you guys, right? I was raring to go and commit corporate seppuku for the Chief- Deep down, he's actually a good guy, y'know. He gave me my first weapon, taught me how to defend myself and about learning to stand up on my own two feet. How to earn power and respect and actually keep it. Do you know what it's like to hit rock-bottom and manage to fall even lower than that? Because it's not the fall that'll kill you."

Normally he'd never even bother to share the crappy details of his distant past, content to leave it far far back in the misty swamps of some protean jungle where giant reptiles ruled Gaia and man was little more than an upright animal waving sticks around and pissing themselves at the sight of fire.

"He got me in touch with a skillset I never even knew I had in me. He cultivated the person I am today. And sure, maybe I'm a little fucked up, but at least I'm loyal. You think that's something you can just give up on, as if it's only a slightly unpleasant habit like smoking cigarettes? Well maybe you can go cold-turkey on Verdot and everything he did, does do for us, but I don't give ten-billionth of a shit whether you approve or not. As far as I'm concerned, this is none of your goddamned business."

The borderline obsession he harbored was stronger than 'Love'. More all-consuming than 'Hate'.

They didn't have to understand.

He'd do this with or without them.

[aceparagoned]

@hxroic-wxlls replied to your post:

(Zack Fair) Ask Hikaru for a date

"Mmm, I don't want to be rude or anything, so how about we take some more time to get to know one another, Zack? I don't mind friend dates, though!"

[soldier-lodbrok]

"Please tell me what I'm looking at."

"Nothing."

Glenn's reply shot back almost immediately. And he meant it exactly like that - and as a threat. Nothing. The Turk in the sharp suit with the scarred face and the metal arm, he better had seen nothing here.

Because what actually was right in front of him was the Cetra Ifalna holding on tightly to her Cetra daughter - the 'specimens' that had fled from Hojo's laboratory. Their traces mysteriously vanishing at the edges of Midgar... thanks to the ex-SOLDIER who stood right in between Veld and them.

Glenn's fingers tightening around the hilt of his axe.

They had just made it to the Corel Region on their way to Cosmo Canyon. They were so close. They couldn't be caught now. But so far it looked like only Veld had stumbled upon them.

No. No way.

Unsheathing his axe fully, Glenn widened his stance, shaking his head once more.

"Just forget what you saw here. Just forget that you ever found us."

@exiled-turk

[dextralwing]

closed starter for @starvingtongue.

Paine  listened  to  the  details  of  her  mission,  focusing  on  the  parameters  of  success  that  would  allow  her  to  seek  re-assignment.  Undercover  ops  weren’t  her  preference  but  she’d  been  hand-picked  for  this  particular  operation  thanks  to  her,  in  Tseng’s  words,  ‘inscrutable’  nature.  Paine’s  cover  was  far  less  likely  to  be  blown  if  she  worked  solo  for  the  duration  of  her  task.  That  was  how  she  came  to  be  in  the  back  alleys  of  Wall  Market,  dressed  casually  in  fitted  leather  pants  and  a  white  vest  with  aviator  sunglasses  pushed  up  into  her  hair.

She  was  supposed  to  seek  entry  into  the  establishment  known  as  The  Love  Tap  to  become  a  regular  patron.  Her  true  intention  was  to  investigate  behind  the  scenes  after  rumours  began  to  spread  that  something  else  might  be  going  on  at  the  venue  -  something  ShinRa  might  be  interested  in.  “Understood,  sir,”  Paine  acknowledged  once  her  debrief  was  over,  ending  the  call,  pocketing  her  phone  with  a  sigh.  Here  goes  nothing,  she  thought  to  herself. 

Approaching  the  entrance  to  the  club,  Paine  bypassed  the  waiting  hopefuls  outside  with  a  flash  of  an  endorsement  from  Madam  M  to  the bouncers.  The  card  stated  she  was  an  associate  of  the  influential  member  of  the  Trio,  and  none  could  contest  the  fact  after  Paine’s  performance  over  the  last  few  nights. 

She’d  done  her  homework,  gotten  herself  picked  by  Madam  M  to  represent  her  during  the  latest  Coliseum  tournament.  She’d  easily  won  her  battles,  amassing  a  few  fans  from  the  audience  and  successfully  gaining  Madam  M’s  favour.  It  meant  nobody  tried  to  throw  her  out  the  second  she  stepped  foot  inside  the  establishment.  Lingering  in  the  foyer,  Paine  took  in  her  new  surroundings,  working  on  formulating  a  plan  in  her  mind.