I am one of them. [Open]
Turks.
He was one of them now.
A leader. Commander. One of perfection. Pulled under the wing of the most elite. This was to be his home now. His place of refuge. His darkest comfort.
For many years the training had been tough, and as the last faded before his eyes, as something hollowed out the smallest part of his heart that still had feeling and it vanished with the death of a man he hadn't told how much he cared about.
Veld was gone. His whereabouts unknown, and that disturbed him.
The stale office now was left to him and he left it as it was. The dark cherry desk, the large window behind it, the tall black leather chair, and the deep thick drapes that shielded the room from the rarest of sunshine peaking through grey clouds that were as constant as the polluted rain.
A heaviness hung over his head, weight down his shoulders, making the tea seem even more bitter to his tongue. Tseng relented and placed the cup back down on the elegant saucer. Dark eyes moved to scan the files on his desk. Several had been left untouched or signed by the previous Commander, and a few were new and laying in a neat pile for him to review. To his right sat his laptop, the screen mostly black save for the ShinRa logo that passed causally withing the frame as if it didn't even have a care in the world. If only one day could move as slowly and as carefree as that...perhaps...a Turk could fine peace.
But the weight of being the Commander was a task he was bred into, his body sleek, muscles firm and toned, hidden beneath the dark suit that framed it, his power unknown until it was released. All that encased what it meant to be a Turk, and add that to the uncanny skills Tseng possess in the mere tips of his fingers, and it created a lethal combination. There were many who feared him, 100s who followed him, and an unmeasurable number who were required to respect him. Power was an easy thing to fall into, melting it with the soul and forgetting that there was life to breath beyond the doors of his office.
Forbidden to have relationships? A Turk might abide, but many did not, for it might be the last comfort one had before death would take their last breath away. Taking a slow breath, Tseng turned in his chair to face the window behind him, eyes moving slowly, following the newest dark cloud that covered Midgar, giving way to rain once again.
