As the Last Piece of Gilding Falls;

[princeshinra]

not-cait-sith·:

Reeve Tuesti was not a babysitter. He was an architect and mechanic for Shinra Electric Power company. Working to design and build the Mako Reactors that would be used to power the city when they were finished. Hopefully making things easier for those who lived there. 

But here he was, striding his way up to the President’s office after being told he was going to be watching the man’s son for the day. Why he was chosen for this job was beyond him, but here he was. He hurried past the boy and approached President Shinra. There was plenty of back and forth on the subject. Mostly, Reeve stating how he was trying to get these reactors to function in theory so they could begin building and was really just swamped with work, please sir. Eventually, he had to give in. A resigned sigh left his lips and he turned, stepping over to the boy.

He would have knelt to be on eye level if Rufus had been much smaller, but figured it might be a bit more insulting than inviting at the boy’s age. “I guess we’re both stuck with each other for today. I’m Reeve Tuesti. You can just call me Reeve, if you want.” He adjusted his hold on his papers and nodded towards the door and elevators beyond. “Let’s start heading back down and we can figure out what you want to do.”

When the man - Reeve - started talking, all Rufus could think was, ‘At least he didn’t kneel down.’ Sure, that was probably something that he planned up - something to make him feel more comfortable. But it really didn’t seem like he wanted to deal with this either - honestly. The little argument with his father was more than enough proof of that. Maybe...just maybe Rufus could afford to let his guard down a little bit. 

“Alright, let’s leave. But the moment you begin to treat me as some sort of child, I will leave on my own.” As if he had that capability. Of course, it might just get this man fired too - the thought at being able to have even a little power over an adult filled Rufus up with glee, though. So, he would be fine, this time. This man would be just good enough. 

Without any further hesitation, Rufus turned heel and began to walk himself to the elevator, head held as high as it always was. He hardly wanted to seem even the slightest bit weak. He wanted to give off that impression of adult elegance and knowledge. “So, Reeve. What is it that you do? Father hardly lets me know any of the business that occurs here, even though I want to. So, you should tell me, if you want to attempt to be friendly.” 

He was doing his best to sound like a young businessman, not a child. He hoped it didn’t come away as silly. 

[princeshinra]

angelstriken·:

        Sephiroth was on a tight leash. It would never slip, never falter- he was to be kept well groomed, well mannered and most importantly, on schedule. When President Shinra turned his cruel, sallow face towards him and informed him that for the time being he was to go on an extended mission he wasn’t surprised.

He only asked for how long he was to remain stationed in Junon.

“Indefinitely.” 

The command still rang heavily in his ears- was he being discarded? Fired? Was this the chance at freedom he so desperately desired? The chance to retire away and live in isolation, to die in obscurity? To be sent out of Midgar so suddenly was unheard of in his twenty-one years of life. 

It meant he no longer had to sleep in his cold room in the lab, where the bed felt like cardboard and the sheets would tear if pulled too taut. Maybe- maybe Sephiroth could experience the open sky without fear that it would be filled with smoke and missiles. 

That hope was quickly and suddenly dashed against the rocks of his mind. He was very quickly escorted to his new place of living by a frazzled bald man in a suit; a Turk.

Bad sign, very bad sign. It put him on edge but did not push him into full defense mode yet.

The manor he arrived at was an opulent one, crafted beautifully and with more care than half of the other buildings in Junon. Maybe it was the Shinra way to put the poor beneath you. Sephiroth bit back a grimace as he was escorted inside, paying no mind to the marble flooring and sleek tall walls, even as he was escorted into the office of one Rufus Shinra.

The Vice President still had his petulant expression scrawled all over his face, as if the world owed him some grand favor. Sephiroth simply bowed in response, dropping his head and placing his hand over his heart in salute. “Vice President Shinra, I am stationed here starting indefinitely.”

Of course that was what this was. He was supposed to be a babysitter to a man who couldn’t be well enough trusted not to have his father killed. Of course that was a company secret now, but still. The grounding didn’t look good on the VP’s record- it would lead to suspicion and question. It only made sense that Sephiroth was meant to make things look better.

“I am at your command, sir. If there is anything you need I will provide within reason.”

Being told that he could give orders freely (within reason) was nothing new. What was new, and oh so entertaining, was the fact that Sephiroth had been sent her indefinitely. Sephiroth, here to bother with the cast-off, for no real reason, indefinitely. Well, it was probably to make sure that Rufus behaved, but still, he couldn’t help the way his expression changed. His lips curled up, slowly but distinctly into a smile - and then his voice rose up. It was a laugh - a real laugh, a genuine laugh - not one born from his reaction to pain (emotional or physical), but from general amusement. 

“Haha, indefinitely! All the way out here! What did you do to make them so angry! You’re their favorite SOLDIER! Oh, please, please tell me that you threw something in Hojo’s face, or spilled hot coffee down my father’s suit jacket!” He lifted his face again, one more peal of laughter before he was able to reign it in; get himself back in control. “Or am I that much of a burden to my father that he was willing to give you up? This is almost...no, it has to be the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.” He cleared his throat, swept his hair back into its proper place - granted, there were a few stray pieces still flying away, touching down by his eyes to half-cover them.

“I’m very sorry, though. This must feel like a slap to the cheek.” With his outburst reigned in, back to being controlled, he let his expression settle back to its normal. But when he apologized to Sephiroth, he did mean it. He was someone important, someone that the entirety of Midgar held dear as an icon. And thanks to Rufus’ unfortunate little mishap in his assassination, now he, too, was being drawn into this pathetic exile. “I’ve made a determination now, then. I won’t cause further trouble to you - and I’ll be certain to give you better company than you’ve been receiving in Midgar. Anyway, this headquarters has plenty of room for you to do...whatever you would like. For starters, would you like to pick out a bedroom for yourself?” 

Rufus shifted, then stood up. He walked towards the SOLDIER, getting closer to him than he had ever been before - in the past, it had been nothing but fleeting glances in his direction, a stare from afar as he wondered what, exactly, the Silver General was like. Always an admiring stare - like so many others, captivated by his beauty and nearly divine grace. This close, he was just as stunning - and he smelled like lilies. It was the shampoo, the ones that Shinra gave him - but Rufus never knew that it was lilies. 

His favorite flower. His mother’s favorite flower. The one that she always wore on her blouse, or wove into her hair. The one that he still had pressed, dried, into a scrapbook that she had worked on with him before her death. He had to fight back a wave of emotion - an emotion he wasn’t fully certain what was, if it was sorrow or joy or nostalgia.

“You did bring a bag, right? Or...do you only wear the one thing? We could always get you something else. Something more fit for time in a casual life. There really isn’t much to do here, besides badmouth my father and learn a handful of life skills that I’ve never had the chance to pick up on. And, by the way, I don’t care if you’re to report what I say. The man knows I despise him, so nothing should come as a surprise to him.” 

[princeshinra]

@mariposaserpiente

Rufus Shinra was accustomed to more than his fair-share of stares and the occasional whisper. He was accustomed to hostility, to venom being spat his way and to the anger in eyes. 

What he was not used to, was seeing the same pupils he had reflected in those eyes back at him. 

Why this man was here, he did not know. How he got here was also a mystery. All of that seemd to flutter away now in the single glance it took to register the spiraling green eyes. Of course, he still had to be on guard...

...Though it was well-deserved, Rufus had no intention of dying. Not now at least. There was still a significant amount to atone for, to move around, replace. Rebuild. It wasn’t him with his name on it, of course, but it was still his place to do something. 

“Well. That look in your eyes seems to tell me you’ve made it here for less-than-pleasant reasons. Can I do something to help you, sir?” His voice still held the confident lilt it always had - a habit that died hard. It was just a quieter form of confidence. One more controlled, more somber. That was what leaked into his expression at any point in time. 

[princeshinra]

@sanctificavi​

To come here, of all places, was almost a death wish. In this city, built from the scrap and remnants of Midgar, Rufus Shinra had no friends. Honestly, he had no friends anywhere (at least beyond his Turks) and the one he felt that there was some connection there had moved on to better things. He had no one to turn to, no one to go see - no fashion or means to alleviate the loneliness he felt (a  feeling he had harbored from a young age, but one that he was formerly able to keep pressed away by the constant stream of work and people). 

This was why he came. There was a surface level excuse - a package that he needed to return to Strife Delivery Service, an incidental misdelivery that a certain someone refused to answer calls about. What was he supposed to do with a bunch of powdered baby formula anyway? Someone would sorely need this more than he - so it was a bit important to give back too. 

...Regardless. Here he was at the remade Seventh Heaven (not alone, of course. Rude and Reno had to come along). For this occasion, he had dressed down - a dark colored high collared sweater that hid the pitted scarring around the majority of his neck. For once, he wore his hair down, rather than gelled slightly back, and a pair of sunglasses borrowed from Rude to cover his family’s signature eyes, the ones he had hidden for so long (and continued to, when he at all could. There just was simply no way to make contacts now, and it was a waste of resources to make more of them when it could go to building). His pants, too, were plain, similar to those of the common working class about here. 

He was comfortable - but he felt distinctly unlike himself. Still, it was his idea to blend in, and honestly, wearing his old favorite white suits sometimes made him feel almost sick. He tried, often as he could, to revive them from the emotions that clouded their pristine shape...but it was hard to release everything that happened two and a half, nearly 3 years ago. So hard. He still refused to enter basement levels if he could, and the sound of chains (even those used for construction) often brought him to another place entirely. 

With the plain, cardboard box under one arm, he entered the bar, listening to the wooden door swoosh open without a creak, accompanied by the slight tingling of a bell. It was homey here; comfortable, again, with its wooden interior and calm, even lighting. Behind the bar - the exact person he was expecting. As the bell chimed, she even turned, her face bright and red eyes gleaming - and now...her face falls on seeing Reno and Rude and himself. No doubt she took one look at them and recalled everything at once. 

So Rufus lifted the box up. “Return package for Strife Delivery. Reached the wrong people. I’d like to...bring it back to its rightful owner.

[princeshinra]

@angelstriken

These days, it was a particularly rare pleasure to have the company of any interesting individual (or, indeed, a person of any worth) beyond his Turks; that, of course, was his own personal purgatory of his own making, something so sorely disappointing in the level of its failure that it verged upon making him sick when thought about in anything more than a passing fashion. Now, he had the particular honor of an individual not only of interest, but of a large degree of importance as well. 

His presence here was easily explained by Junon’s particular penchant for all things military, besides this certain individual’s popularity and military prowess. That aspect was not at all surprising - the part that was was his appearance here at Rufus’ prison. His father had decreed that none were to know exactly where his son was, casting him into the shadow of obscurity and further Shinra-typical lies (a family trait, by this point, so thought Rufus often and bitterly). Then again, the SOLDIER of all SOLDIERS was of a particular level of favor within the hierarchy of the corporation. 

Well. It must be important then. Rufus thought, sitting up in his chair and crossing one leg over the other to look directly into Sephiroth’s face. “Tell me. Have you been sent for a reason...or is this a more personal visit? Come to gawk at the cast-away son?”

[princeshinra]

Timelining Guide | Tagging System

Canon Timelines

00: Before Before Crisis - Anytime before the events of Before Crisis

01: Before Crisis - During or directly after the Before Crisis plotines. Ages 19-24

02: FF Core - During the main FF7 plotline. Age 25

03: Advent Events - After the FF7 timeline, during or after the Advent Children Events. 27+

Semi-Canon Timelines ;)

04: Tales of Jenova Materia - For OUR FF7 campaign. Rufus is 29-30. 

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General Aus

au01: Apartments  - Apartment Building AU. Rufus is absolutely a rich, shitty 25 y/o. Fight me. 

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Person Specific Aus

Nothin’ Yet

[princeshinra]

@not-cait-sith

He was 13 years old, and this was the definition of insulting. 

No! It was more than that; it was humiliating, degrading, and designated his father’s absolute lack of attentiveness to his personal growth and development, alongside his relative levels of capability! By no means did he need to have yet another babysitter for a day - he could explore and examine the facilities of the Shinra building on his own, he was more than equipped to do so! 

Instead, his father had simply come to the realization that he regretted bringing Rufus from the Sector 0 estate home into the actual building roughly 30 minutes after the fact, but decided it far too much of a hassle to arrange for him to be brought back, likely due to the complaints he would be forced to listen to. 

Of course I would complain.  Rufus thought, watching the door to the President’s Office open and footsteps echo across the polished marble flooring. He promises me one experience and then takes it away as soon as he becomes too ‘busy’. Why even take me if you won’t allow me to work! His hands clenched into fists, and he set his jaw before looking up, expression as hardened and stoic as he could reach. 

The figure that entered to play nanny this time, however, was different from the rest. Rather than a woman with an air of secretarial business, there was a tall man with dark hair who walked with an air of less corporate whipping and moreso a general air of confusion and perhaps a bit of frustration. 

If this man was at least a worker of some quality Rufus would be able to learn something useful out of him. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as the previous few times his father has pulled this stunt. 

He watched them talk with a genuine air of disinterest, watching closely and waiting while the adult men went back and forth over something or other. When the stranger, with a soft, half-hidden sigh, finally turned and walked towards him, Rufus stood up, quietly, his eyes still as cold and hard as he could make them; harder than they should be for a child of his age, though that was hardly something he knew. There was no standard to which Rufus could compare himself - he had no friends, no contact with children of his age (nor did he want any).