"Extremely busy, I should hope." With a respectful nod, Tseng slips his PHS out of his pocket. A few taps later and the screens before and beyond his double light up with a scrolling feed of information. No doubt, his double has questions. Tseng knows because he had those very same questions and summarily sought out the answers, all of which are cast upon the screens now for this Tseng's perusal.
The most data he has is on Sephiroth, and most of his theories are based upon this research. His double will see that Tseng has posited they are, indeed, all the same people, not 'clones' imprinted with a genetic veneer. But the peculiar thing is that there are discrepancies: between timelines, beyond years of origin, subtle alterations that appear here and there.
"I've done what I can, but this has proved to be a very tumultuous time for the company. I trust you've made the necessary moves in my absence." He clasps his hands behind his back. "If there is anything that I can elaborate on, by all means."
Tseng watched as his other-self maneuvered through the room with a familiar gait, and how he spoke with an edge of assumption. He nearly felt as if he didn't belong in this seat; perhaps he didn't, and the dubious feeling etched a shadow across his face. In my absence? As if this man knew of him and his work endeavors. Necessary moves..? There was a solemn prickle to the back of his neck as he thought about disappointing the other; a conundrum in whether this means he's ultimately disappointing himself.
Tseng finally stood from the chair and exhaled with his ascent. He looked from his other-self, with a tight jaw, scanned over the provided information. His mouth felt dry, and his chest was tight. Despite his effort in comprehending the words he scrutinized, his mind kept returning to the fact that he was feet away from himself.
"You trust in me as if you know me.." He finally worked out, and his eyes returned to his other-self. He could barely concentrate outside this moment. However, despite his question, he felt the same affinity toward the other Tseng. He straightened, turned to face the double, then brought his hands up to his lapels to fix with leather-gloved fingertips. "I came from Kalm, before that .. It was Meteorfall. From which point in my life were you not absent in?"
"The night before my appearance here was the induction of President Rufus Shinra," Tseng explains. He knows of Meteorfall, of course; what little intelligence has not been handed to him, he has been able to discern through various covert means. People talk, and they do so love to do that talking in wide open spaces, perfect for payrolled ears to overhear.
He does not, however, believe that his future will align with this version of it that the others know. There are certain flags he's trained himself to look for, discrepancies between the memories he knows and the ones relayed to him by his associates.
"I am quite possibly the only one who truly knows you." A smirk begins like a rolling ember spreading flames. "If you would humor me for just a moment," Tseng says, approaching his double. Is it strange to stand before himself and make demands? After everything he has seen in this place, it is more of a comfort than cause for any great existential panic. "Might I see your hands? A strange request, I know."
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you are a gift
The most data he has is on Sephiroth, and most of his theories are based upon this research. His double will see that Tseng has posited they are, indeed, all the same people, not 'clones' imprinted with a genetic veneer. But the peculiar thing is that there are discrepancies: between timelines, beyond years of origin, subtle alterations that appear here and there.
"I've done what I can, but this has proved to be a very tumultuous time for the company. I trust you've made the necessary moves in my absence." He clasps his hands behind his back. "If there is anything that I can elaborate on, by all means."
;3; u r
Tseng finally stood from the chair and exhaled with his ascent. He looked from his other-self, with a tight jaw, scanned over the provided information. His mouth felt dry, and his chest was tight. Despite his effort in comprehending the words he scrutinized, his mind kept returning to the fact that he was feet away from himself.
"You trust in me as if you know me.." He finally worked out, and his eyes returned to his other-self. He could barely concentrate outside this moment. However, despite his question, he felt the same affinity toward the other Tseng. He straightened, turned to face the double, then brought his hands up to his lapels to fix with leather-gloved fingertips. "I came from Kalm, before that .. It was Meteorfall. From which point in my life were you not absent in?"
no subject
He does not, however, believe that his future will align with this version of it that the others know. There are certain flags he's trained himself to look for, discrepancies between the memories he knows and the ones relayed to him by his associates.
"I am quite possibly the only one who truly knows you." A smirk begins like a rolling ember spreading flames. "If you would humor me for just a moment," Tseng says, approaching his double. Is it strange to stand before himself and make demands? After everything he has seen in this place, it is more of a comfort than cause for any great existential panic. "Might I see your hands? A strange request, I know."