[OOC: Started up a new log because the other thread disappeared off my f-list]The need for air was getting overwhelming.Rufus staggered away from Scarlet's very drunken attempts to get one arm around his shoulders and another down his pants, banged his leg painfully against the table, split punch down his jacket, and figured that a strategic retreat was called for. Perhaps he would even return to his room for reinforcements. No one, however drunk, messed with one large panther, black, fully equiped with enough jaw strength to crush bone. And tentacles. Two tentacles.Abandoning the now empty glass, he staggered towards the doors of the ballroom, wondering why the world seemed to insist on listing slightly to the right. Surely it wasn't because the room had been built on a slope. He'd have been... notified if it was. He'd have to take the Head of Building Administration to task very seriously about allowed sinkage to this extent. No wait.He paused just outside the doors, shaking his head violently as his senses caught up rather belatedly with him. How many glasses of punch had he drunk? It had been one. Then another when he'd talked to Reeve's secretary. And another when Heidegger had started telling his... jokes. And... oh gods.He groaned as he dimly recalled several more in between that one and the one he had split. Well, maybe he simply wouldn't be back. After all, it wasn't as if anyone would miss him----the world listed again, and sharply, and he stumbled, lost his balance and staggered into the wall. Except that there was a Turk in the way.[Tags: doublegunshot]
"I worked for Don Corneo in the sector 6 slums. Mostly enforcement and bodyguard duties, though there was the occasional freelance hire on the side." Rafe wonders how much of his real work made it onto his file. Probably a lot, or the Turks wouldn't have come after him. Even though relations between Corneo and Shinra had been strained in the last few years (not the least because of that nasty incident involving the marketing head and a certain bottle of wine - after that mess was smoothed over, the Don kept his hunting strictly below plates), there still remained a steady flow of information between the mafia don and his connections within the corporation. "But I grew tired of the Wall Market rat race, so when an offer from Shinra came up..." Rafe shrugs. "At least it takes care of job security." There was a lot more to the story than that, but he doubted even Veld knew the full details.
Rufus blinks.Don Corneo? The self-same Don?Something that has been vaguely hoping that the Turk would misinterpret his movements earlier screams and withers and dies. Tragically.He musters a tired smile as he glances over. "Shinra's a huge rat race, itself. Although I dare say that we dress it up a little-- a lot more-- expensively than Wall Market would."Alcohol makes him talk. It's a bad habit, but at least he's still in possession of enough of his senses that he's not likely to talk about anything he isn't supposed to."Not that I've ever been to Wall Market, myself. What's it like? Is it as dangerous as they make it out to be?"
The Turk chuckles wryly. "That depends wholly on two things - how much money you have, and which people you know. One usually follows from the other." He shrugs. There were exceptions to the rule, of course, but generally they came under cover of darkness and left quickly afterward, always with a slightly guilty air about them. No one said the only thing that passed between upper and lower plates was gil."It's not that bad a place once you get used to it, so long as you carry cash and don't cross the Don. He keeps the gangs in check." And the chickies lined up at his door. Rafe neglects to inform the VP of that little aspect of every marriagable (and some not) girl's life in Wall Market, though he's sure by now Corneo's adventures have become infamous. "Anyway, Mr. Vice President, perhaps you should retire to your rooms now. I'll be glad to answer any more of your questions once I'm off duty."
Is he not in his rooms--?Oh.Wait.Antechamber. Right right right.He gets to his feet -- remarkably steady now that the world has (momentarily or otherwise) stopped spinning, giving the Turk what he hopes is a nod and not a drunken bob of the head. "I trust I can find my way from here. Don't let me detain you." A Turk from Wall Market, he speculates, as he focuses on walking on a straight line and trying not to miss the card reader as he swipes his ID through it. Fascinating. Doubtless an interesting fount of information, and given that that is one place the old man frequents that he doesn't, Rufus thinks that it would be in his best interests to find out more. Perhaps a trip in person...?Tseng would throw a fit, but Tseng, as always, is never around. Perhaps......Zack.Hm.Possibilities unfold as he finally gets the card through the reader and steps through. There are weapons vendors there. He knows some people who would rather appreciate additional supplies.In the meantime--The bed suddenly seems way too far away. Kicking off a shoe, he vaguely recalls shedding his jacket before he falls faceflat on the couch and passes out.[Tags: Sephiroth or Tseng or anyone who has access and would like to drop by.]