It takes a second for Reeve to even comprehend what he's staring down. What the black hole in the center of the metal means. His heart stops in his chest when his brain finally catches up with the situation, though, even fiber in his being stilling.
"Well, looks like there's a rat running around here."
There's a couple of things Reeve wants to say to that. One is that no, he belongs in the reactor, this man is the one running around where he shouldn't be. The other is that Reeve is, if anything, a cat, thank you very much. And in this case, one who is trying to catch some rats. He holds his tongue, though, because his tongue wouldn't move even if he wanted it to, because there's a giant fucking gun pointed at his head.
The gun-armed man takes another step forward. He's huge in every sense of the word, seeming even larger as he threatens Reeve. He's smirking, a threatening expression. Oh god, is this where Reeve dies? In his own reactor, trying to find his missing piece and failing just shy of success? He hopes Kunsel gets out of here, at least.
"And a Director nonetheless. Tuesti, right?" The gun-armed man says. He's closer now, the gun is closer now. Reeve's heart has started back up and it is pounding painfully in his chest, like it knows this might be the last time it has the chance to do so.
Reeve opens his mouth, intending to say something, but nothing comes out. The man chuckles, and it has no right sounding so nice.
"Well Director, so long as you're here, I have a little request," the man continues. "See, I'm not a big fan of these reactors ya'll have set up. So it shouldn't be a surprise what I'm going to ask of you." The gun presses to the side of Reeve's head, and it's hot, hot from all the bullets it's already fired, all the people this man has already killed. "I want you to shut this thing down."
Cait Sith would say something, do something. Make a puff of smoke, or have some kind of quip, cast a spell. Maybe at least be brave. But Reeve is not that other half of himself, not right now. He's a coward. He's ashamed of this fact, as much as he is painfully aware of it.
"I-I'll need to get to the cons-" he cuts off as the gun presses harder into his head.
"You're not going anywhere near a console. Who knows what kind of things you could trigger. Nah, you're shutting this thing down from right. Here."
