[The device comes to life in a fizzle of static and white light. Having become accustomed to such devices before, she finds the watch easier to operate than the phones back home. Currently uncertain of who might be on the other end, she speaks slow and with caution in her tone.] "To any one listening, can some one please tell me what this place is called? Where it is exactly?"
[Her head turns from side to side, taking in the surroundings with a sorrow filled sigh which escapes between her pursed lips. The device captures her puzzled look, recording her as she raises her eyebrows with worry.]
"It looks too much like home, but it can't be, can it? This isn't any section of the city I've ever seen before, if that's the case."
[She sits down on a nearby bench, tossing her hair over her left shoulder as she makes herself comfortable.] "Looks like I'm gonna' be here a while, huh?"
Third Person
She wasn't sure what to make of the new situation. Living with a Turk? This kind of thing was unheard of! Tifa had held in her lifetime some rather personal grudges. Some she had been able to forgive, and some she had not. This fell into the later category. Though she was thankful for the offer, she wasn't completely sure how she would respond to the invitation. She deliberated over hours, imagining how their fights would play out in her head like scenes in a movie.
There was no question that she needed a roof over her head, and there were little to no other options for her at this point. This was a pickle, to say the least. Would she swallow her pride, turn her back on principles she had been holding on to for so many years? Or would she at least have the decency to politely withdraw and leave it at that?
Rubbing her tired legs as she sat down in a dusty, old chair, Tifa's thoughts became audible as she hummed and groaned over the dreadful circumstances. "At least I've got bar space", she thought aloud, "But how would I do sleeping in there every night?"
She turned her head to look upon the pocket watch she had set on the table beside her. With a dry throat and a sense of apprehension filling her from head to toe, she reached for the communicator and promptly tucked it away into the pockets of her skirt.
Re: [REVISION REQUESTED]
[The device comes to life in a fizzle of static and white light. Having become accustomed to such devices before, she finds the watch easier to operate than the phones back home. Currently uncertain of who might be on the other end, she speaks slow and with caution in her tone.] "To any one listening, can some one please tell me what this place is called? Where it is exactly?"
[Her head turns from side to side, taking in the surroundings with a sorrow filled sigh which escapes between her pursed lips. The device captures her puzzled look, recording her as she raises her eyebrows with worry.]
"It looks too much like home, but it can't be, can it? This isn't any section of the city I've ever seen before, if that's the case."
[She sits down on a nearby bench, tossing her hair over her left shoulder as she makes herself comfortable.] "Looks like I'm gonna' be here a while, huh?"
Third Person
She wasn't sure what to make of the new situation. Living with a Turk? This kind of thing was unheard of! Tifa had held in her lifetime some rather personal grudges. Some she had been able to forgive, and some she had not. This fell into the later category. Though she was thankful for the offer, she wasn't completely sure how she would respond to the invitation. She deliberated over hours, imagining how their fights would play out in her head like scenes in a movie.
There was no question that she needed a roof over her head, and there were little to no other options for her at this point. This was a pickle, to say the least. Would she swallow her pride, turn her back on principles she had been holding on to for so many years? Or would she at least have the decency to politely withdraw and leave it at that?
Rubbing her tired legs as she sat down in a dusty, old chair, Tifa's thoughts became audible as she hummed and groaned over the dreadful circumstances. "At least I've got bar space", she thought aloud, "But how would I do sleeping in there every night?"
She turned her head to look upon the pocket watch she had set on the table beside her. With a dry throat and a sense of apprehension filling her from head to toe, she reached for the communicator and promptly tucked it away into the pockets of her skirt.