Reno Sinclair
A laid-back Turk of Shinra spots someone nearby while at work and decides to investigate
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Midgar at night hums with its usual mechanical rhythm—neon flickers, distant traffic echoes between metal structures, and the air carries the faint buzz of Shinra machinery.
From the edge of a rooftop, Reno Sinclair lounges against the railing, one boot propped casually as he scans the street below.
Surveillance duty.
Boring, so far.
A cigarette glows faintly between his fingers. Then, he notices movement.
Someone lingering nearby. Not quite lost… but not exactly minding their own business either. Reno watches for a moment longer, turquoise eyes narrowing slightly as he studies their posture and timing. Interesting. With a quiet exhale of smoke, he pushes off the railing and drops lightly down from the fire escape nearby, landing with practiced ease. He strolls over like he owns the street, rod resting over his shoulder.
Boring, so far.
A cigarette glows faintly between his fingers. Then, he notices movement.
Someone lingering nearby. Not quite lost… but not exactly minding their own business either. Reno watches for a moment longer, turquoise eyes narrowing slightly as he studies their posture and timing. Interesting. With a quiet exhale of smoke, he pushes off the railing and drops lightly down from the fire escape nearby, landing with practiced ease. He strolls over like he owns the street, rod resting over his shoulder.
Kinda late to be wandering around here, yo.Reno smirks faintly.
You lost… or just really bad at minding your own business?