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Rufus Shinra [userpic]
Parties, contd
by Rufus Shinra (crisis_control)
at January 22nd, 2006 (09:18 pm)
Feelings on this:: drunk

[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]


Posted by: Rafe (doublegunshot)
Posted at: January 22nd, 2006 08:39 pm (UTC)

With navigational skill born of years of babysitting the Don's drunken parties, Rafe wove his way through the clusters of corporate suits, around groups of pipe-smoking foreigners, and finally, past the completely sloshed waiter in the corner to arrive, thankfully intact, at the exit. Just as he was congratulating himself on making a spotless retreat, Rafe turns once more to find himself neck-to-face with the Shinra Vice President. A 15-year-old, very inebriated, Shinra Vice President.

Cue the warning bells.

"Sir?" Rafe quickly steps back, reaching out automatically (another skill he'd learned at the Don's, if by skill one meant useless piece of shit reflex that usually ends in chauffeur duty) to catch the young blond. "Do you need some help?" He casts about the room, praying for someone, preferably sober - wasn't that redheaded Turk on bodyguard assignment tonight? - to intervene.

Posted by: Rufus Shinra (crisis_control)
Posted at: January 22nd, 2006 08:43 pm (UTC)

White black white--



Ah shit.

Rufus realises that firstly, there's a suit somewhere in front of him, and secondly that there's an arm around him to stop him from hitting the wall, and thirdly that it's Undignified with a capital U.

"Let go of me," he growls, trying to shove -- who is it, anyway? -- whoever it is away, and not succeeding very well.




Maybe not in that order. Damnit world, stop trying to go in circles already--

"I'm going to kill whoever spiked the punch." He squints unsteadily at whoever it is. Turk. Tie. Not Reno, then. Black hair. Tseng? No, get a grip, Rufus...

Posted by: Rafe (doublegunshot)
Posted at: January 22nd, 2006 09:00 pm (UTC)

Well, so much for gratitude when it came to drunks. Though he suspected he'd have a hard time prying gratitude from the dead fingers of the sober either. With immense effort, Rafe resists the temptation to just let the kid go like he had been ordered and high-tail it out of there at top speeds.

Except...that probably wouldn't go over very well with the management here. Specifically, Veld. Who was probably watching him right now.

"You might want to sit down, sir. There's a chair over th - " Rafe trails off as his eyes search the room for a suitable relocation. Finds none. Next to the exec table? No. By the orchestra stage? No. Back to the bar? God, no. Rafe sighs inwardly. Chauffeur duty it was tonight then.

"Maybe we should go to your suite instead."

...Which brought up a very good question. Where did the Vice President stay anyway?

Posted by: Rufus Shinra (crisis_control)
Posted at: January 22nd, 2006 09:08 pm (UTC)

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Posted at: January 22nd, 2006 09:22 pm (UTC)

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Posted at: January 24th, 2006 02:19 pm (UTC)

Posted by: Rafe (doublegunshot)
Posted at: January 24th, 2006 03:02 pm (UTC)

"Of course, sir." Rafe strides forward the few steps to wrap a strong arm around the Vice President and prop him up with ease. The boy was actually quite light for his age, in contrast to his father, who looked well on the way to a heart attack. Must be all that shotgun practice, he thought wryly, as his gaze trails over the heavy weapon. Quite magnificent make and finish. Looked to be imported from Gongaga, none of the usual cheap factory trash he encountered in the slums.

Only the best for the President's son, of course.

Turning a corner, Rafe scans the area for a suitable exit. If there was one thing you could say about Shinra HQ, it was that they had no shortage of elevators. He makes a beeline for the nearest one.

"The 40th floor?" Rafe shifts his weight back up against the glass to better support the boy, hoping no onlookers below had an eye on their movements. The position was suggestive enough without further invention.

Posted by: Rufus Shinra (crisis_control)
Posted at: January 24th, 2006 03:42 pm (UTC)

[OOC: Rufus is so skinny because he spends all his timing running from bullets XD]

Long seconds of his consciousness are starting to drift away again. He thinks of something, and then there's a gap, and the next he knows they're in an elevator.

"40," he mumbled in reply to a query that he's not quite sure he actually heard.

Wonderful image you're creating for yourself, the inner voice continues to say, sounding positively irritated.

He blinks, thinking vaguely about keycards. "Do you have access to those floors?"

Glass elevators, he thinks crazily. People who live in glass elevators should not cast stones...

"Was there a commotion?" he asks again, without waiting for a reply. "Did anyone notice I was gone?"

Posted by: Rafe (doublegunshot)
Posted at: January 24th, 2006 08:42 pm (UTC)

"By elevator, yes. But the residential suites will require your keycard to unlock. As for commotion..."

Rafe recalls the chuckles and stares from the party's guests. He also recalls the copious amounts of alcohol being gulped down like water by said guests. It was obvious which would win out by morning.

"...There wasn't too much of a fuss. Most of the guests were on their way out anyway."

A soft ding announces the elevator's arrival at the 40th floor. Slinging the boy's arm over his shoulder (by now, he wasn't so much supporting the VP as practically carrying him), Rafe trots down the corridor toward the presidential suites at the far end of the hallway. At least, it looked to be the presidential suites. No other place in the building had three separate ID checks just to get past the first door.

Posted by: Rufus Shinra (crisis_control)
Posted at: January 24th, 2006 09:07 pm (UTC)

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Posted at: January 24th, 2006 09:27 pm (UTC)

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Posted at: January 26th, 2006 07:41 pm (UTC)

Posted by: 01_one_man_army (01_one_man_army)
Posted at: January 27th, 2006 09:07 pm (UTC)

It was bad enough, Sephiroth reflected as he swept through the hallways like the world's most imposing, trench-coat wearing avalanche, that he had to put up with the ridiculousness of Shinra and Shinra corporation's policies when it came to making decisions that were, inescapably, military decisions that ought to be made by military personnel. Things like how many troops to send where, (none, to Fort Condor, the ornithologist cultists weren't actively harming anyone and meanwhile there were innocent people dying in the jaws of unhunted dragons up in the mountains), and why it wasn't a good idea to requisition armored tanks to handle guerillas in the middle of a Wutai swamp.

Bad enough, if one wanted to get technical, that Shinra brought him these problems at all. As though they expected that he was going to be able to solve them after they'd already gone in and mangled the situation beyond repair as only they could. How could he, when he was a product of Shinra himself; Shinra training, Shinra genetic experimentation….the entire Shinra mentality, perhaps, brought on from overexposure. He had never lived anywhere except Midgar. Or so he thought. He could never remember anywhere except Midgar and that wasn't truly the same thing.

He was a soldier. Not a politician and not a bureaucrat, no more than the product of training and clinical thinking and that cold eyed logic that came so naturally, possibly nothing more than the inhuman killing machine the rumors coming out of Wutai had painted him as. Zack always vehemently denied such things. Zack got into the few true arguments they had over similar statements.

Zack was doing this to him on purpose.

The blue eyed, blond SOLDIER under Zack's command trotting in his wake had an expression close to sheer terror; the carefully restrained temper still had irritation rolling off Sephiroth in waves. He was not happy about this turn of events involving the Vice President. He was not happy about his second in command acting out of turn and involving both himself and Sephiroth. He was especially not happy that there was not a damn thing he could about it now.

There were days when he wondered if he might press his luck and see if President Shinra really would overlook murder on his behalf. They would never find Zack's body. Midgar had plenty of shallow ditches. The Turks had certainly proved it.

Speaking of the Turks, it's a very irritated looking Tseng that he nearly runs into turning the corner; an irritated Tseng and a very, very smug auburn haired SOLDIER. Smirking. With Tseng's hands on the wall on either side of his head. Oh how very compromising, the entire scene suggested, and Sephiroth did not believe for a minute that it had not been staged. No wonder Zack had been confident that no one would see to the Vice President before Sephiroth could get there. Irvine made for a very convincing diversion.

Behind him, Zell let out a squawk of surprise. "What the hell, Kinneas?!"

Exactly. Kinneas. Green eyes narrowed.

Tseng's expression had slid into horror and then full blown rage, glancing back at the SOLDIER he was …doing whatever it was he was doing with. Berating, likely, although that wasn't how it looked. The impulsiveness of youth. Irvine wasn't looking very chastised, which was probably the point.

There were, it seemed, no depths to which Zack's devious mind would not sink when he was making an effort.

Posted by: 01_one_man_army (01_one_man_army)
Posted at: January 27th, 2006 09:08 pm (UTC)

"Xian," the General acknowledged coolly, while the Turk stepped sharply away from the wall and his erstwhile captive pinned against it. Irvine straightened but made no effort to put himself together otherwise, just tossed off a salute with his shirt mussed and the top few buttons undone.

"Dammit, Irvine," Zell hissed. "You are in so much trouble…"


"Yes sir!" The blond snapped to attention so quickly he quivered.

"We are wasting time here." Tseng's suspicious and furious gaze bored into Sephiroth's, misplaced anger but there was nothing to be done for it now. He could make no promises on this thing that an overly altruistic idiot had set into motion.

"So we are, sir," Irvine drawled. To his credit, he neither paled nor flinched when both Turk and SOLDIER immediately glared at him.

Another moment of tension and Sephiroth simply strode off, Irvine and Zell at his heels and Tseng staring daggers at his back. He was past caring at this point. He might have been required to play, but he was not required to play diplomatically.

A few minutes later saw their collective arrival at the VP's rooms. Sephiroth left his unwanted escorts outside with a wordless icy look and keyed the access code, irritated at being forced into a role he was completely unsuited for. This should have been Tseng's job. This was Tseng's job. But now it was Zack's job, because Zack had opened his idiot mouth, and now it was Sephiroth's job because Zack had taken it into his head to play politics at the most inconvenient point possible.

The door slid open.

Posted by: Rufus Shinra (crisis_control)
Posted at: January 27th, 2006 10:14 pm (UTC)
Re: cont'd

"Later, Dark Nation," Rufus mumbled, caught in that zone where he wasn't quite asleep and certainly not awake, and probably closer to the former than the latter. Something shifted at those words, soft fur brushing the edges of his fingertips where his arm hung over the edge of the bed.

Huh? Not Dark Nation pawing at the door asking to be let out, then.

Belated, he thought that it might have been the sound of the door opening, which meant that--

--he flung himself over the edge of the bed, except that it wasn't the bed and his reflexes were wallowing somewhere in cotton candy land, all fluffy and happily sticky. He hit the side table instead, sending something crashing to the ground, and Dark Nation took off with a yowl. He pulled a pistol from its concealed jacket, noting fuzzily that his shotgun was not by its usual stand beside his bed -- wait, this was the living room, not his bed room, what the hell -- and tried to keep his head down behind the very inadequate protection that the couch offered. It took him three tries to get the safety off, and with the world dancing the way it was, he knew that he wasn't going to be able to aim worth a damn.

Weren't there supposed to be guards? Wouldn't he have heard a commotion if someone had tried to force his way through all the layers of security to break into his room?

If you're caught sleeping, sir, it's better to pretend that you aren't awake. It makes our job easier, sir. Tseng's voice nagged him, belatedly, and he groaned mentally.

Dark Nation was growling, somewhere out there, and he hissed at her to return to his side. Oh crap. Party. Post party. He was still drunk, and there was no way he was up to this. Where were the Turks?!

Posted by: 01_one_man_army (01_one_man_army)
Posted at: January 30th, 2006 04:56 am (UTC)

Upon entrance into the outer room, Sephiroth had certainly not been expected to hear several crashes along with an abrupt assault by---a cat.

A very big cat with very sharp teeth. And tentacles.

He eyed the cat. The cat eyed him, and growled. Sephiroth was tempted to do the same right back.

“I’m not going to argue with you,” he said aloud instead.

The cat made a peculiar yowling sound. A few moments later her fur rippled and smoothed down, and she sat back on her sleek haunches, regarding him with her unblinking feline gaze and periodically sniffing the air.

There was some strange thing about Sephiroth’s presence around animals, they’d discovered, that either pacified or drove them wild. The scientists had given some vague explanation about the sheer amount of mako in Sephiroth’s body causing strange reactions in living things that could sense it. Zack expounded a crazy theory that predators recognized predators, either as threat or no-threat, which didn’t at all explain why every chocobo Sephiroth had ever encountered had felt the need to snatch at his hair with their beaks.

That’s just because of the shiny, Zack had said, tugging on a handful.

I know that explains yourfascination, Darklighter, but I was talking about the birds.

Har har, sir.

Sephiroth folded his arms. “May I go in, now?”

The cat lifted a paw and began to wash, ignoring him completely. He took that as a positive sign and strode forward.

….what was not a positive sign was the pistol wavering above the edge of an overturned couch. Instinct whispered and he turned his head. A neat hole appeared in the wall just beyond his right ear, sizzling and its edge faintly blackened.

Good aim for an inebriated child, he observed. Or else it was a fluke.

“My apologies for disturbing you, Rufus,” he said mildly to the impromptu couch fortress, pretending that this wasn’t completely ridiculous and All Zack’s Fault. “However, I would appreciate it if you did not try to shoot me again. It would seem to be very hard on your decor.”

Posted by: Rufus Shinra (crisis_control)
Posted at: January 30th, 2006 01:23 pm (UTC)

They say that certain scares can cause the alcohol to completely evaporate from your system.

Rufus, frozen in shock behind the sofa, vaguely hoped this was true. Because that voice was utterly unmistakable, and utterly unwelcomed at this time. The esteemed General. The only one Rufus really considered a threat in the Company. The one person he needed on his side more than the entire Board combined.

And here he was, clutching a pistol, having shot at the guy, and drunk out of his mind.

He groaned softly, despite himself.

"General," he replied. Because no one, not even the most skilled of actors, could imitate that smooth tone, or that sheer presence that made even his hair stand. He hoped Dark Nation was okay. The yowl hadn't been promising. He snapped the safety of the pistol back on, gratified to note that it was rather easier than his attempts to get the safety off. Maybe he was sobering up. But ... good grief. What did a man have to do get some sleep around here?

Hastily combing his hair flat, he stood, clutching the edge of the couch. He truly did not trust his balance at this juncture. A pity his jacket was lost somewhere. He hoped that the General was one who would not place an overemphasis on appearances.

"I am deeply sorry. I wasn't expecting visitors." And my security phobia is getting worse by the day, I swear.

"To what do I owe the honor of this visit?" he asked, scanning the area for his tentacled panther. If the great General Sephiroth had hurt her, he didn't trust himself not to launch a suicidal attack on the man.

Posted by: 01_one_man_army (01_one_man_army)
Posted at: January 30th, 2006 04:40 pm (UTC)

The great General Sephiroth had indeed not hurt her, but he did wish she would stop batting at the edge of his coat.

He waved off Rufus's apology. "It was an honest reaction." Refreshing, actually. He hadn't been shot at by children since Wutai.

And as for the dubious honor of this visit, there were a few answers, but only one of them was the truth, and did not involve inquiries about the boy's health.

"Blackmail, actually. Your new security detail.."--self appointed, no doubt--"..went to a great deal of trouble to arrange it." Cold green eyes swept the young man before him, assessing, and Sephiroth dropped a lure to see whether Rufus knew just what it was that Zack had been up to. "I am not sure myself what prompted such intervention on your behalf."

Posted by: Rufus Shinra (crisis_control)
Posted at: January 30th, 2006 06:15 pm (UTC)

Ah. Dark Nation. Safe and sound and professing an interest in the General's hair. It probably reminded her of a ball of yarn. A very shiny, unravelled ball of yarn.

Rufus wasn't up to cryptic hints and suchlike. And even if the General was hinting that SOLDIER might be aware of certain plots stirring in the upper echelons of the Company, specifically, the ones targetted at the Vice President, well... Rufus hadn't stayed alive as long as he had by telling everyone everything he knew. Tucking the pistol into belt, he waved the General over to one of the chairs still standing after the debacle. "Please, take a seat." The mannerisms were automatic. "Can I get you something to drink?"

Still clutching the edge of the couch, he meandered over to the wall and flicked on the lights as he did so, staring unhappily at the hole in the wall. Hopefully, they'd be able to get that fixed.

"Captain Darklighter?" he asked. Rufus turned eyes that he were sure were bloodshot and black-rimmed on Sephiroth. "A chance meeting in the hallways. I requested assistance in the form of possible escorts from SOLDIER ranks from him. Although I didn't expect him to volunteer, himself.

"It was all rather unplanned, actually. The Captain was rather more enthusiastic than I'd expected." He smiled, deprecatingly. "It was all signed, sealed, and approved in record time, even for this Company."

Posted by: 01_one_man_army (01_one_man_army)
Posted at: January 31st, 2006 07:33 pm (UTC)

"No, thank you, I won't be disturbing you much longer." The boy very obviously needed sleep and Sephiroth had no intention of keeping him from it for more than this obligatory first contact required. Not that Rufus would probably remember half of what was being said in the morning with his hangover.

Zack volunteered. Of course Zack volunteered. Before training had beaten it out of him, Zack had been the type to have his hand up in the air before the person requesting assistance could even say what they needed volunteers for.

"Typical," Sephiroth muttered. "Enthusiasm is one of his more .." he bit back the phrase 'colossally idiotic' "..endearing traits. No doubt he offered to do the neccessary paperwork himself?"

Posted by: Rufus Shinra (crisis_control)
Posted at: February 2nd, 2006 06:08 pm (UTC)

"That he did," Rufus said, willing himself not to fall flat on his face or zone out. His brain had a distressing tendency to do that when sentence length exceeded 10 words. Water. He had to remember to get water. A lot of it. "He also had a certain innovative way of filling out the paperwork. And I believe he used the back of a takeout menu."

Good grief. He was babbling.

"Either way, I hope he filed it properly in the end. Or..." sharp glance at Sephiroth here, "Is there a particular reason you're here?"

That took you long enough, his brain shouted at him. The General himself turns up on your doorstep, claiming blackmail, and you end up gossiping about his second in command? What do you think he's here for? To talk about Chocobos?

He could feel the beginnings of a headache blossoming in his left temple. Early hangover, yay.

He dug his fingers into the back of the couch to prevent himself from swaying visibly. "To be perfectly honest, I've been having a problem" -- he hoped his tone had kept quite level there, rather than giving way to the sarcasm he knew was lurking behind it -- "with my security detail. The last ones got killed, unfortunately, and the Turks are presently too busy to spare their number on extended business trips. I apologize. I should have approached you directly instead of going through the Captain."

Except you would likely have thrown me out of your office as soon as listened to me, wouldn't you? Or asked me to ask Heidegger, which largely amounts to the same thing. The great General doesn't play politics, they say, doesn't get involved, especially when the lives in question are as insignificant as one dispensible heir still in his minority.

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